Q

[quartermaster_q]

"Q could do it," Tanner had suggested, prompting the young Quartermaster to look up from what he was doing and frown deeply.

 

"He certainly could not," the fluffy haired boffin replied blandly, shooting Tanner a look, then returning his attention to his laptop. "Besides, I don't go into the field without double-o seven."

 

It wasn't even official work they were talking about. Q Branch had simply gotten wind that a certain soviet agent was in town, apparently not on business, and at some point had started talking about how useful it might be to bug his personal laptop before five worked out he was here and got to him first. It had started off as light banter, a joke even, but it had gotten more and more serious as the time passed. Serious enough that someone had opened the man's file and had started reading up on the agent in question.

 

"It's not the field, it's a bar," Hopper, a young tech, chimed in. "Besides, you're just his type. Go in, have a flirt, bug him, then get out."

 

Q scowled, but it was obvious that they weren't going to let up- And really, it wasn't a terrible idea. He didn't like going out on something like this without Bond, but Bond wasn't in the office right now. He'd have to do this alone.

 

"Fine," Q eventually agreed with a sigh. "I'll do it."

 

That was how he wound up in a dreadful bar, sitting at a filthy table beside a large man who was attempting to get him very drunk. 

 

"Oh, just one more, come on," the man insisted, putting another beer down in front of Q.

 

His head was already spinning, and he knew if he drank any more he wouldn't be sober enough to do what needed to be done. His fingers grazed over his ear, tapping the device that sat inside as he assured the man he couldn't have another drop, hoping to alert his team that he needed some help- Except there was nothing. No static, no sound at all.

 

"What's wrong?" the Russian asked, his tone calm as his arm snaked around Q. "Can your friends not hear you any more?"

 

Q's pulse fluttered, and he tensed as he felt a small blade press against his side.

 

"You're right, you've had enough to drink," the man whispered. "Let's get out of here, hmm?"

 

Getting to his feet, Q let the man guide him, though the young Quartermaster moved slowly, scanning the crowd for help. He'd known this was a dreadful idea, and the moment he got away from the bastard he was going to march right back to Q branch and tell them all what a bunch of idiots they were.

 

(OTA! Feel free to have your pup notice the hidden knife, or not notice and simply approach Q by chance.)

Comments

[ilowell]

First, Lowell was pretty surprised he could recognize the glint of a knife so instinctively.

Second, when he looked up from the sliver of visible blade to the man who was holding it against the young man's side, he knew even more. Their eyes locked for a second, and Lowell was thrown violently into a vision. And it was some seriously fucked up Spy vs Spy action that ended in the guy in the bar snapping his neck.

When he blinked the vision away, the man (and his prisoner) had moved a couple of seats farther away, and Lowell (clearly not thinking straight) scrambled up and followed after them. Oh, shit. Oh shit oh shit. Russian spy brains? Really? Really?

Third, Lowell apparently spoke Russian now and it just came out automatically, like word vomit. "Hey Bach, I think you've uh, got a phone call or something - " In flawless Russian, except awkward as hell. Though the worse part of the word vomit was that as soon as he said it he realized that Bach wasn't the guy's name, it was his code name.

He wasn't really sure where he'd expected to go with this. This wasn't the first time he'd had some ill advised bout of impulsive white knight syndrome.

[quartermaster_q]

Q evaluated the situation almost instantly. The man, the stranger, was speaking Russian, but it wasn't his native tongue. Fluent, but clumsy and hesitant. If he was a spy, he was new. Definitely not six- Perhaps five? Hard to guess really.

What happened next happened quickly. 'Bach' turned sharply to see who was speaking, and Q used that moment of distraction to swipe the knife. If he stabbed him there would be a lot of clean up to do. Footage would need to be erased, palms would be greased... It was messy. This whole operation was messy.

Worse than that, it was unauthorized.

Still, what other options did he have? He didn't fancy being held hostage tonight. He had things to do.

[ilowell]

"Who the living fuck are you?" Bach barked at Lowell in Russian. "And what did you call me?"

Meanwhile, Lowell saw out of the corner of his eye the smaller man swipe the knife. Thank god.

"Oh, just - glad to hear someone speaking the mother tongue!" he tried, and there was a brief moment of hesitation from the man where he was clearly trying to decide which of them was the bigger threat.

For a second, Lowell actually thought the smaller guy was going to stab him, so he took advantage of that moment of hesitation and did something else that he really shouldn't know how to do: he jabbed the heel of his palm up into the guy's nose, breaking it and purposefully sending him staggering in the direction of a nearby belligerent drunk, who shoved him back...

Instant bar fight. Though they only had a couple of seconds.

"I know a back way out," Lowell hissed to the smaller guy quickly, in English and back to his usual London accent now.

[quartermaster_q]

Q didn't like the idea of following a stranger out, but he supposed it was better than sticking around. The sudden chaos gave him the cover he needed, and he jabbed the knife hard into the large man's spine before swiping the man's keys and casually nodding for the stranger to lead the way out.

The Russian screamed, but it didn't matter. There was shouting and screaming all around. He'd be long dead before anyone managed to call an ambulance, Q felt certain of that.

"I don't suppose you're parked nearby?" he asked, sounding as calm and detached as ever. "The tube's dreadful this time of night."

[ilowell]

It occurred to Lowell perhaps belatedly that just because the man he was with now had had a murderer holding a knife on him didn't necessarily make him a good guy. And he definitely didn't feel any better about it when he'd seen him slip that knife into the spy pretty as you please.

"Uh," he said in answer to the question when they were out in the night air. He kept walking, heading towards his car, but he did say, "I guess that probably depends on whether you're going to stab me or something."

[quartermaster_q]

"I'm fresh out of knives, and these keys don't look terribly sharp," Q replied, his voice dry and mellow. "Besides, I'm not the one who was on a first name bases with a Russian spy- I imagine her majesty's government would be very interested to hear why, and how, it is that you are. I, however, am only interested in getting to his hotel room. I'm sure that a ride there would be worth my silence, don't you agree?"

[ilowell]

Lowell didn't actually think that at all. But he supposed it was worth a ride for even the potential that that was true. After all, it probably wouldn't be that hard to figure out who he was; there was bound to be at least one person in that bar who recognized him. And yeah, let's try to explain why rock star Lowell Tracey knows Russian and spies' code names.

"I guess her majesty doesn't also want to know what he wanted with you," he said as he led them to his ten-year-old black VW beetle parked on the next block.

[quartermaster_q]

"I can't speak for the queen's personal interest, but my boss would certainly have a lot to say on the matter," Q shrugged.

[ilowell]

"Your boss being...?" Lowell asked, but then said, "Wait, maybe I don't actually want to know that. But if you're getting at what I think you're getting at I'm actually a little dismayed that national security can be traded away for a drop off at a hotel. Wait, why did I just say that. I'm kidding." He unlocked the car doors and climbed in the driver's side.

He was seriously expecting to be stabbed any minute now.

He was already counting his lucky stars that the adrenaline of what had happened in the bar hadn't caused him to go Full Zombie. It had been a close fucking thing.

[0_0_7]

Bond had come into Six and heard about what had happened and with a scowl and a curse he'd gone to the bar in question. He was ready to shoot someone and he didn't particularly care who- M, Tanner, the mark, whoever. But he didn't have his gun out as he walked in.

He was utterly out of place with his fine suit and titanium watch. He looked around and saw Q and a large man, and he saw a blade. He moved forward and was blocked by a woman who had a smile and a chat up line and when he tried to move off her pimp stepped up to challenge him for being rude and not giving her the time. By the time he'd sorted out that mess and made it to the alley he knew he may well have lost the pair.

[quartermaster_q]

Q had started to struggle once they were out in the alley, grabbing for the blade- and finding himself thrown off guard as the large man smiled and tutted at him, nicking his arm with the blade.

"I've been told you don't like to fly, little one. Is good then that you'll sleep all the way there," the man said, just as a van pulled up and the world went dark.

Bond wasn't alone though. Q was gone, yes, but a shadow stood behind the double-o. Q wouldn't be the only one to make this unexpected trip tonight.

[0_0_7]

Bond stepped into the alley and realized a moment too late that the door didn't close behind him as fast as it should. He felt a stick and a sting in his arm through his suit and immediately whirled on the man. He threw a punch and another but then the world was gone and he slumped in the beefy man's arms.

[quartermaster_q]

When Bond woke, he would find himself in a small room, bound to a heavy metal chair and staring through a two way mirror. On the other side was Q, who was not bound at all, and lay unconscious on a cold cement floor.

"He's pretty," a man said, the voice coming from behind the double-o as two heavy hands came to rest on his shoulders, rubbing gently, as if perhaps they were old friends. "I can see why you like him. I can see why anyone would. Pretty is more important than we all like to admit, isn't it?"

The man had no notable accent, he almost sounded American, but not quite. There was something off about his words that caused them to hang oddly in the air- Confident, but uncomfortable.

On the other side of the mirror, Q began to wake. The fluffy haired boffin sat up slowly, taking his glasses off and frowning at the cracks in the lenses. It was immediately apparent that though Bond could see him- He couldn't see James at all.

[0_0_7]

Bond struggled but the bonds were strong. He then tried to shake off the hands and craned his head up and back to look at his captor.

"Let him go," he demanded. "We can come to an agreement. Make a deal. Let him go and I'll give you what you're after."

[quartermaster_q]

His captor, however, ignored him. Firm fingers stroked Bond's hair, his nails raking lightly over the double-o's scalp, then lower, caressing his neck and trailing lightly over the line of his jaw.

"Hello?" Q called out after a moment. He was half-blind without his glasses, and though they were cracked he slipped them back on to better inspect the room. The large mirror earned the most scrutiny, and he cupped his hands over his eyes as he tried, and failed, to peer through it. Eventually, however, he turned his attention to the door. He tried the handle, even dared to give it a kick- Though he instantly regretted that when the metal offered no give at all, and he hopped a bit as he swore softly at his own stupidity.

"Hello?" he tried again, eyeing the chair in the corner and frowning when he noticed it was bolted to the floor.

"Don't worry," Bond's captor said, finally coming to stand at Bond's side so the agent could see him. "He thinks he's alone, but he wont be for very long. ...Are you hungry, James? You should eat. What would you like? Name it, it's yours."

[0_0_7]

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" he demanded, twisting away from the caresses. Cold dread settled in his stomach.

"Is it money? Secrets? What is it?"

[quartermaster_q]

The captor laughed. The light in Bond's room was faint, but not so dim that one couldn't make out the man's dark hair and classically handsome features.

"Oh, you'll figure it out, I'm sure. Though I hope not too soon. I've been looking forward to this for a while now. I couldn't stand for it to be over so quickly. ...Really though, you should eat," he added seriously, not looking terribly interested as Q's room slowly started to fill with smoke.

The young Quartermaster backed away from it, pulling his shirt up to cover his face- Delaying the inevitable. Did they intend to kill him, or simply drug him again? He didn't fancy taking a sniff to figure it out.

[codenameathos]

If there was one thing Athos was good at spotting, it was the flash of a blade, no matter how discreet it was. He'd been on the move before Q looked around for help, so that all he would have seen was the back of a patron heading out of the pub. The last thing he would have wanted was for the quartermaster to unwillingly betray his presence to the Russian agent.

Trust Six to mess up something so simple as this.

Athos waited until the two men walked out of the pub, and pulled the exact same trick on the Russian as he had pulled on Q, his own blade pressed in the perfect spot to be able to pierce his kidney. "Now, now," he stated quietly, his voice dangerous, as he remained on his guard in case the Russian was not alone. "I suggest you let him go."

[quartermaster_q]

The man stopped but pressed the blade harder against Q's side, drawing a soft hiss from the young Quartermaster.

"You want him?" the man asked, twisting the blade just a tiny fraction to the left as he spoke, causing the tip to break skin and draw another hiss of pain from Q. "Is all yours, my friend. I would catch him before he fall though- So much sharp glass here. Broken bottles."

Q didn't really have time to work out what that meant- Whatever the knife had been coated with hit him hard and fast, taking his legs out from under him and causing him to crumple.

[codenameathos]

Athos was honestly conflicted about this, for a split second, priority training warring with his natural altruistic instinct as his gaze swept across the floor. It wasn't as bad as the Russian said, and even as Q crumpled, he kicked out at the back of his knee, bringing him down faster than Q to ease his fall. His next move was to punch the man hard and fast once he was on the ground, fist curled around the hilt of his own knife, a blow calculated to knock him out. After checking that the Russian was truly out, he checked on Q's status, glad to find a steady pulse under his fingers. A team was already on their way, and at this hour, traffic should not hold them up. In the meantime, he grabbed each man by one hand and started pulling them into the side alley, before anyone might notice them here.

[quartermaster_q]

Had Q been concious, he wouldn't have been very pleased about being dragged in an alley. Honestly, all of this was terribly beneath him- Or possibly above him, if one was talking pay grade.

The team was just pulling up as Q started to come around, his glasses damaged from the fall, and his arms and back slightly scratched up from being dragged along the filthy ground. The fact that the first face he saw was the Russian agent's certainly didn't soften the blow to his ego, and he flinched a bit, before realizing the man was out cold.

His gaze drifted to Athos next, and he huffed a little before letting out a sigh.

"One day you're going to catch me on the job when I'm doing something I'm actually good at," he said dryly.

[codenameathos]

"If you stuck to doing things you were good at, I doubt I'd ever catch you," Athos replied in his usual disaffected monotone. Their areas of expertise wildly differed. He moved out of the way to let the other Five agents get to the Russian, and crouched beside Q. "How do you feel?"

[quartermaster_q]

"Unwell," Q admitted, lifting his shirt to examine where the agent had stuck him. The skin there was red and angry, and he hissed as he prodded it gently.

"I think I need to report to medical."

[codenameathos]

"We'll have you checked out before we debrief you," Athos replied, offering Q a hand to help him up, and ready to catch him in case he felt faint from whatever drug had knocked him out. "This is going to be quite the mess."

It wasn't even a question that Q ought to be coming back with them. He had jeopardised one of their operations, in their jurisdiction; Athos had had to move in a lot sooner than they had planned. Now they would have to try and turn the Russian on the spot, and in custody, which hadn't been their plan at all. So yes, Q would be debriefed while their superiors hashed it out between them. Checked out, treated, debriefed, then let go, precisely in that order.

[quartermaster_q]

"Lovely," Q replied flatly, clearly not pleased to hear he'd be dealing with five for the rest of the night- Though that was, in part, because six didn't actually know what Q branch had decided to do tonight. ...M would not be pleased.

"Or, you could turn a blind eye and let me just slip off," Q suggested, sounding far too hopeful for a man who was struggling to stand on his own two feet.