#007G 2017

[akwelvhi]

007 fest 2017 about a year ago… 

I had a plan, which I did not quite follow.

This year, I have a plan again (which I will not quite follow).

[akwelvhi]

Q Branch headcanon

For Fluff Table Prompt - Trust

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MI6 thinks Q is omnipotent. Overlord of his branch of minions. Going toe-to-toe with the worst of the double oh′s. However, Q is human - shocking, but yes - he does have the brightest mind nestled behind his two eyes, but he only has ten fingers. And one bladder (as is normal for humans).

Q needs a few seconds to sip his tea. A minute to stretch, yawn, and rub at his tired eyes. A few minutes to run to the gents - after holding in seven cups of tea for the past 15 hours.

Q trusts his minions to hold fort. And the double oh′s grow to trust Q’s minions. That MI6 has every 00-moniker in unit filled with active, living, agents. Shows not only their competence, but the faith in Q branch and a confidence in their double oh’s.

Once, QB-J8 saved 004’s life, because of course shit decided to happened the moment Q stepped into the gents.

Twice, QB-A1 overrode the manoeuvring of drones equipped with darts. Away from 006, then towards the men pursuing 008.

Thrice, QB-M3 remotely created cover for agents 003, 002, 0011. Overheating lighting, malfunctioning sprinklers, faulty smoke vents.

Not to mention - all the doors they’ve locked and unlocked. Secure blueprints they’ve hacked. Surveillance systems they’ve overridden. Efficiently and timely executed, putting their double oh’s out of danger or in aid of the mission.

Many a time. It was a minion shouting out a double oh’s name - heart in their throat - before collapsing in relief as the agent reports back after a minute of gunfire. It was a minion on the other side of the comms, with a harried but grateful agent and their gruff thanks.

Oftentimes. It was a double oh, ordering food and ensuring the minions ate, and driving them home when they were quite likely to fall through the gap at the tube. 

The two teams may bicker and have snark wars. But in each other they trust their lives, for Queen and country. And so they say - To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.

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This triggered ^this. 

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[akwelvhi]

Biker!Q AU

Category: 007 Games 2017

For AU day & transformation prompt fill.

A wee little snippet because motorcycle-owning-Q is spawning this AU scene nibblelet.

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Q works as a DJ by night, and owns a motor-vehicle modification workshop by day. James owns the club Q works at, and several others as well. They flirt over shared snarks and Q takes James out for a ride.

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"Want a lift?" Q asked casually, like he hadn't brought an extra helmet for this opportunity specifically. James had been mocking Q's riding skills. Q had declared James would have his brains blown if he rode pillion. It was nearly 4 in the morning, quite the perfect opportunity indeed.

Knowing Q rode a bike was one thing. Actually seeing him perched with his legs splayed was another. Drinking in the sight of Q decked in a biker’s leather jacket, complete with probiker gloves and a HJC helmet that had more than one sticker on its surface. It really was quite the change from his usual drab jeans and t-shirt attire behind the DJ station.

His ride was a thing of classic beauty. Jet black seat covers contrasting beautifully against the chrome of the frame. Its straight-twin engine looked modified, but James couldn’t tell for sure from where he stood.

The smirk on James lips quirked in a way that fought back a smile. Sauntering confidently over to Q, who watched James approach with a smoulder that certainly took things up a notch. James swung his leg over and fitted himself closer than necessary against the DJ's leather clad back.

"If you want your brains intact." Q said, knocking the helmet against the knee that was pressed against his calf. Giving James an eye roll over his shoulder when the blond leaned even closer still, his fingers touching Q's purposefully before he took the helmet.

"Ready?" Q raised his voice, over the loud rumble of his modified engines.

"Blow my mind Q." James yelled back, his arms wrapping around Q’s waist. The bike must have gone from 0 to 50mph in a second, and breaking speed limits the next. James wrapped his arms tighter around Q as the wind whipped past them. The tension in Q’s body as he focused on weaving through the sparse traffic like a lunatic, the powerful hum of the machine between their legs.

James conceded on Q’s superior riding skills when they finally parked before the morning traffic could start. And Q conceded to James expert thrusting speed before the morning had even begun.

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[akwelvhi]

Q Branch Headcanon

For Fluff Prompt Table 005 - Pets & Gadgets

Q branch is an animal loving branch. The gadget inventing part is quite a given.

Maybe it was something of a job hazard, secret service and all. So 98% of Q branch employees, lived alone. With only their non-human companions for company.

The tally currently; 12 cats, 7 hamsters, 5 turtles, 3 dogs, 2 iguanas, a snake, a parakeet, a rabbit and an owl. 2 of the cats were Q’s. Val - head of cryptography - proud owner of Hedwig. And R - master of the beautiful Nagini.  

When Devin - head of R & D - fashioned an ultra carbon message carrier with satellite connected cameras and GPS, and gifted it to Val a few years ago. That sort of started it. 

Now all the pets with collars have at least a camera, speaker and GPS tracker installed. The hamsters and turtles were the first test subjects for a nanobot adhesive. The snake was a bit tricky, what with all the shedding. But they managed to peg a fiber optic sensor with the help of some local anesthesia. 

Q's cats of course has the best attachments. Turing has a bionic eye equipped with facial recognition scanners. And Keats has a smart blood chip prototype.

Q still lords over them with his patented cat pawprint and fur markings scanning algorithm. He puts it up as a prize for Q branch's year end hackathon. Val wins it much to the cat owners dismay.

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[akwelvhi]

Isolation

Category: 007 Games 2017

For Angst week. Angst prompt table - Isolation.

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Bond awoke suddenly to a persistent voice calling out his name repeatedly. Piercing blue eyes snapped open, looking around for the source of the voice, only to realise that it was directly in his ear. 

Having been knocked out and locked in a shipping container, which was currently en route to a warehouse along the Yenisei river. He was clearly disorientated enough to forget about the tiny receiver Q-branch had planted in his ear canal prior to the mission.

“007? 007? Report!” Panic was edging into Q’s tone of professionalism. 

Bond steadied his breathing, assessed his surroundings then himself, reporting the mission status back to his quartermaster who sighed in relief. With no knowing if or when his captors would return, Bond settled himself. As comfortably as one could be, injured and stuck in a cold metal box. With nothing to do but wait. 

“Tell me about the minions.” Bond asked, hoping to distract them both. The quartermaster huffed a dry laugh, a burst of static in his ear had Bond wincing in pain, not that a little bit more pain mattered at that point. His swim earlier and one too many blows to the head must have rattled the little receiver. 

“Yesterday,” Q began, “a large delivery of imported crisps was delivered to MI6. Security was concerned.”

“Large delivery hm.”

“Six foot by eight, bubble wrapped, cardboard box,” Q paused for effect, “of crisps.” Q groaned, remembering the monstrosity in the Q branch lobby - after it was cleared by administration and security. 

“Let me guess-” Bond hummed, a playful lilt in his tone. “From Japan.”

“Bloody- did you put them up to that?” Q exclaimed, then staring at his screen where a dot blinked red on the map of Krasnoyarsk.

“Unfortunately,” the agent sighed, “I can’t take credit for that.” 

“Cube has eaten herself into a croaking voice box, Phil managed to cut the sides of his mouth, the rest of them are coughing out a hospital orchestra.” 

Bond chuckled softly as Q ranted, the mental image of a Q branch covered in crisps crumbs.

“I don’t think you can blame the cough on the crisps.” Bond huffed a laugh, feeling oddly amused at his own sentence. Cough on the crisps. His shoulders shook as he huffed out quiet chuckles, lips pressed thin in a grimace. Laughing really wasn’t a good idea. 

Q seemed to have picked up on that, silence falling between them again as the momentary distraction lost its effect. Hours passed as Q listened closely to his agent’s breathing as his fingers flew across the keyboards.

“007.” Q called out, when the shallow breaths grew even harder to hear. 

“Bond, are you there?” Q heard the strain in his voice, he didn’t try to keep it out. It’s been close to 30 hours now since the double oh was locked up. Bleeding out, alone.

“Q.” Came the agent’s response, voice low and raspy as he straightened himself. Having slid down sideways as he listed away. He listened closely and tried to follow as his quartermaster led him though a few breathing exercises. Bond thinks he feels better, he’s not very sure, but at least Q’s voice sounds clearer in his ear.

Q branch had pinpointed 007′s location an hour ago, still on the river, edging closer to Divnogorsk. On a large shipping vessel, loaded with hundreds of shipment containers. It would take some several hours before the retrieval team reached their agent. 

“James.” Q’s voice is soft through the tiny speakers of the receiver.  “We’re on our way.”

The tightness in Q’s voice dredging up a memory of pale slim fingers clenched tightly against the agent’s back - the night he returned from Kosovo. It was the first time Bond had ever seen Q that distraught.

“I thought I’d look for my Walther first.” He tried to joke, hearing Q huff a laugh on the other end. 

“Never mind that now.” Q said. “Just hold on till we get there.”

“I think I can manage that.” He replied, before trying to fall asleep, hoping time would pass more quickly. 

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[akwelvhi]

Q Branch Headcanon

For Fluff Table Prompt - Home

Q Branch is home to Q and the minions alike. 

What with the amount of time they spend there, many call Q Branch their second home (if not their first).

Q may have his own office, with that old but comfortable sofa he sometimes sleeps on more often than his own bed.

But the minions have their sleeping bags, inflatable pillows, and a comfy nest they’ve made in a corner of their break room.

Often, after a long drawn out mission. Q could be found catching a nap in his office. While a few minions caught theirs in a tangled heap of limbs.

Bond pops by the break room whenever he comes by Q Branch, if only to fetch Q a tea refill.

So if he spies comatose bodies sprawled out in the beanbag corner. He’ll be sure to order something special to leave on the break room table. 

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[akwelvhi]

Headcanon - Prompt fill

Q is a stress baker.

Contrary to popular belief, Q’s kitchen at home is not empty. There always is enough ingredients for him to bake a few batches of gingersnap biscuits, a basket of scones, several Chelsea buns and at least one Victoria sponge. 

He has a Neff Slide & Hide® Oven, and a whole assortment of mixers, whisks, measuring cups, sieves, piping bags, and two dozen piping tips - just to mention a few.

Q favours the bite-sized easy to eat variety of bakes. As such, his Batternberg, Eccles, and Welsh cakes, were to die for. It took some time for him to perfect his scones and shortbreads. But they were now a staple of Q branch, with their own labeled glass jar on the break room table. Right next to the tea station. The glass jar was often refilled.

Breads in particular were a tricky spot - what with his cold hands that didn’t make for good kneading and rising. Q may or may not have invented heated latex-thin gloves, just for this specific purpose. 

Q baked so often that his house smelled like a bakery. He was careful to ensure the scent did not spread to his wardrobe. The minions were suspicious enough, what with how Q always shared the ‘bought baked goods’ from ‘that bakery’ which they were never able to find. 

It was 007 who unintentionally blew his cover one day. With an innocent passing comment on how the scones jar in the break room was running low, and that Q should bake the cranberry ones next. 

So much for his promising career in baking espionage. 

From Anon Prompt exchange ‘Q is a stress baker’

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[akwelvhi]

Q Headcanon

Q Headcanon - Bed sharing 

Bed Sharing fill For Fluff Prompt Table 005.

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Q had always wanted a king sized bed. He realised sometime in his youth, that a single just wouldn’t do. Not when you had to share.

It all started when his bedside table grew too cluttered, and he had to place his laptop next to him on the single before falling asleep.

It got more crowded as Q grew older. When his phone, tablet and other tablet joined him in bed.

Then when Q got a place of his own, there was his cat. Then another cat. And another. 

When he moved into the new - more spacious, MI6 issued - flat. He bought the king he always wanted, and even outfitted a proper study-workshop for all his tinkering and experiments.

But every time Bond snuck into bed with Q, the agent would find himself sharing the bed with more than just Q and his cats. 

The charger head of Q’s phone would poke him when he stretched out his toes. The coiled length of a connecting cable brushing against his back. A thumbdrive or two under the pillow.

And always, a warm and pliant body, legs rubbing against his own.

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[akwelvhi]

Author AU

Category: 007 Games 2017

Rating: General

Prompt fill for #23 and Reconciliation fill For Fluff Prompt Table 005.

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James Bond has lived his dream and suffered in the resulting nightmares and he wants nothing to do with this Waterstones event. And yet.

Here he was.

At the signing of Q. Langley’s magic, mystery novel series, second instalment - Skyfall. James barked a laugh when he first heard its title. Q definitely hasn’t forgotten him.

James had just settled the messy divorce proceedings of a marriage of four months. He was in quite the mood. After his launch to celebrity status after the release of his books more than a decade ago. James Bond has been constantly on the media eye and on a few notable occasions, even TMZ, with his short fabulous stints with one Hollywood actress after another.

Stuck in a dreadful mentorship stitch his agent had gotten him into. James had went into it with all the intention of mucking it up. He just wanted to forget everything, and Q was right there. Beautiful, young and eager to please. Q was brilliance. A truly bright young author with the potential to become a name greater than his. He didn’t need any help at all. But James played along, if only to keep meeting Q. 

James spent many days with Q, and nearly just as many nights. Q was breathtaking as much as he was a breath of fresh air. And in the privacy of James Skyfall residence, where they had vacationed for a week, he had found himself plunging. Falling into the depths of things he swore himself never to fall into again.

It was like killing two birds with one stone really. It was easy to convince himself that he had had his fill of shagging away the persistent nightmare that was Vesper, and that it was time to wake up from dreamland. He stayed away from Q. The next anyone heard of him, it was all over the media with his latest scandalous foray with an A-list star.

One year later. James Bond had appeared on TMZ yet again. At around the same time, Skyfall made the headlines as bestselling novel on TheGuardian. 

He went into the bookstore with all the intention of lurking in the background and waiting till the signing was over. James lowered his sunglasses and threw the girl at the door a smile, as he snuck into the backroom. He wasn’t expecting Q to be ready for him before he was. 

“What are you doing here?” 

James spun around, finding himself glared at by angry - gorgeous - hazel green eyes. James had never seen them quite that green before. They were usually a paler grey, but Q was happier then. He wasn’t happy now.

He wasn’t prepared to be caught, James mouth fell open just slightly, as Q’s question echoed somewhere in his head. Eve’s voice echoed back the words she said to him a few nights ago. 

Follow your heart, James.

This isn’t a bloody Disney movie, Eve.

But speaking of Disney movies. Q, looked like a prince, dressed in dark brown slacks matched with dark polished shoes, and a lilac button-up, sleeves folded neatly up above his elbow. His unruly hair, tamed just enough to make James want to run his fingers through them.

Q wasn’t wearing his glasses. 

It made his frown all the more pronounced, easier for James to notice the subtle shift when his hazel green blended into a touch of brown. Q sighed.

“What are you doing here, James?” 

The backroom had cleared out. James and Q stood facing each other. But each time James took a breath and opened his mouth, his words just wouldn’t come out. Q waited, his frown creasing deeper and deeper, until he finally sighed. Turning away.

“Let me take you out for dinner.” James blurted out, blue eyes pleading, hoping, Q would say yes.

Q stood, steadfastly staring down, with so much hurt and anger still thrumming in him. 

“Please.” The word came out unbidden, the shock in Q’s eyes probably reflected his own. James squared his jaw in resolution. 

“Please Q.”

A week later. James reserved a private table at Q’s favourite curry haunt.

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[akwelvhi]

Headcanon - Prompt fill

It was a week after James moved in with Q, when the quartermaster noted a new addition to the shelf in the shower.

‘Tropical Passion Aura’ read the label of a small silver-green and red bottle that sat on their shower’s shelf. The bottle had a very artful passion fruit motif with swirls and cursive writings. Q took a sniff of the shampoo before replacing it on the shelf. Later when he kissed the back of James neck before they sat for breakfast, Q noted the same fruity scent lingered on the agent’s skin. He didn’t think much of it. 

A month later James had a mission in Indonesia, and when he was back, Q noticed the new bottle. A deep brown, with a creme coloured label with tasteful neat small print that read ‘SavondeBali - Sabun Kelapa Muraya’. After a strong whiff of coconut, Q scrunched his nose and placed the bottle back. James probably didn’t like it much either, because the next day, the bottle was replaced with a ‘SavondeBali - Sabun Nanas’. James smelt of pineapple for a week. 

It was ‘White Grape and Jojoba’ next after the mission in Greece. And a ‘Yuzu Green Tea’ one when he returned from Japan. 

Q installed another shelf in their bathroom, so James could line up his collection. Also so that he didn’t accidentally pour ‘Jo Malone’s Basil & Mandarin’ on his head. Q had groused at James that one time, the agent responded that Q smelt good enough to eat.

And eat him he did. 

From Anon Prompt exchange ‘ 00Q. Q finds out Bond's secret love of fruity shampoos‘

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[akwelvhi]

Normal people knock first

"Normal people knock first.”

Category: 007 Games 2017

Rating: General

Warning: None

One-shot prompt fill from #24 for Trans character day.

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The moment the words left his mouth, the air around Q changed. The minute shifts in the lithe boffin’s posture, his expression - as Bond watched, and replayed his own words in his mind. A bad aftertaste growing in his mouth. 

“Don’t patronise me, 007″ Q snapped, his voice low, controlled, and vibrating with anger. The double agent leaned back, studying his quartermaster’s expression. Beneath the flush and eyes that glared daggers at him - only obvious by someone as trained as James Bond - was mortification so deep, Bond broke eye contact and looked to the ground. 

He always liked teasing Q, but this was too much, the sort that even made the likes of Bond feel guilty. When he looked up again, Q had composed himself, but the thin press of his lips was telling of how upset he was. 

“Sorry,” he said, looking at Q sincerely, sloping his stance down a notch from his usual confident stance. “That was, out of line.” 

The agent searched his mind for something else to say, but the fact that he was the cause of unearthing the dirt Q had so carefully kept buried. The guilt that churned in his gut was something he hadn’t had to deal with for such a long time, he didn’t quite know what to do. So he quietly left Q branch.

-

Driving around only helped so much, and after draining his tank dry, Bond returned to his flat. Mind set on the item he intended to retrieve. One of the many ‘lost’ firearms Q branch had equipped him with during missions.

He knew that returning one item wouldn’t be the cure-all to this. But he hoped, it would be something, while he grovelled his way through the rest. Because really, Bond couldn’t figure out a better plan. 

Finding out Q was undergoing a gender transition - still undergoing it - was a shock. Through and through, Q had always been male in his eyes, too slim and delicate features, but still very much male. That Q was born a different gender, wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind. Bond wasn’t proud with the way he handled that information - or not handle it. 

It took him completely by surprise, and the gravity of it was heavier than anything Bond ever had to deal with, emotion-wise. Out of depth for the first time in decades of his life, Bond had fumbled. And made a mistake.

Q’s branch, is one of the most diverse branches in all of MI6. There was an equal gender distribution, representation of several ethnicities, ages and an open no-discrimination what-so-ever policy as a core rule. Every newly hired minion would know of the Q branch rules. Any minion caught saying derogatory remarks or using discrimination practices could very well be fired immediately.

“He went home,” R said pointedly, intercepting Bond’s entry into Q branch with a fierce glare. Her usually warm almond-shaped eyes icy as she stared at bond with her nose tilted up. “He stopped by a liquor store, by the way.” 

The information Q branch provided him was valuable, but at times, Q’s minions would also feed him with details with carried on baggage. Their hints dead obvious, R’s irate unexpected, but only stressing on the lines he shouldn’t have crossed. 

Here he was planning to just sneak into Q branch, and leaving it somewhere Q or one of his minions would find. Instead, Bond finds himself standing in front of Q’s door, looking pointedly away from the security camera.

What was he doing here? Bond sighed, looking at a light that blinked green from a LED embedded in the door. 

“Normal people fuck first.” Q whipped his door open, eyes half-lidded and blinking slowly. Before frowning hard at the double agent standing on his doorstep.

“That’s not right.” He slurred as he tottered sideways, leaning against the door, one slender arm flailing in gesture that Bond took as an invitation to come in. Once he did, the sharp tang of Vodka hit his nostrils. His suspicions confirmed as Q shut the door and stared at him from over his shoulder, eyes still half-lidded, as he hiccuped. They stood like that for half a minute.

“Fuck. No, people.” Q groaned, breaking his stare as he rubbed at his face before taking a deep breath. “I meant. Normal people, knock, first.” with forced, slow, enunciation before padding over to his sofa. Waving at Bond to join him.

Their conversation carried late into the night, and the more they talked (and more water Bond got Q to drink), the more it helped dim down the many emotions warring in Q’s eyes.

Soft chirping of the early birds brought Bond out of his doze. Q, fast asleep next to him. Having curled up on the sofa, his cold feet tucked underneath Bond’s thighs. 

He carried him to bed, calloused hands unable to resist brushing away those dark locks as he placed Q’s glasses on the table. Looking down at the sleeping man, their conversation still swirling around in his head. 

It dawned on him that his surprise and awkwardness. It really didn’t matter.

Because all that did, was the person who is Q. Gender, orientation, physical appearance. It never was a thing that mattered when it came to Q. Hell, this relationship with Q was the longest Bond had stayed around with no sex involved. For once, Bond was genuinely interested in a person more than he was lusting over them.

Now privy to the more private aspect of Q’s life, Bond resolved he was going to do whatever it takes to be Q’s source of unwavering support. Embolden by his decision, the double oh slid into bed with Q, falling asleep with a grin. 

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[akwelvhi]

R is for Raoul

Category: 007 Games 2017

- for Angst week, prompt table 004 fill; capture and helplessness.

Setting: Canon divergence, pre-Skyfall.

Warning: Angst. Torture. Rape/non-con. Hurt!Q. Hurt!R. A probable squick that’s possibly a spoiler so - please scroll right down to the end of the cut for full list of warnings including the possible spoiler.

Thank you @10kiaoi and @sunaddicted for beta-reading this, and @spiritofcamelot, @opalescentgold , @jaimistoryteller for the sprints and tips. This 3k+ one-shot took horrendously long to type I’m so glad it’s done (at the end of angst week too).

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R is for Raoul 

.

Do not wait for that silver lining... It’s not coming. 

It’s too late.

“R.” Q hissed as he struggled against the electrical tape wrapped too tightly around his wrists. “R!” The Quartermaster nudged his second with his bound feet. But the pale haired man remained silent, staring blankly at his lap. He didn’t struggle when they captured him, and he wasn’t struggling now.

From the moment both Q and R were snatched into the van - literally right under MI6 - Q had been fighting tooth and nail. They were right there! In the basement of MI6. Their best chance for escape was before their captors had a chance to leave the building. Yet out they drove unhindered, as though security all simultaneously decided to go for a tea break.

“R!?” He was worried. Raoul hadn’t uttered a word since their capture. Q had a beefy hand slapped against his mouth when he started to shout. And R? With his grey-green eyes downcast. He had went along obligingly almost. Even now when they were dumped in this steel enforced cell. He remained still.

The door slammed open suddenly and Q’s eyes widened as he took in the figure that had entered. It was R.

The man that stood at the threshold of the room was the split image of his second that sat bound in front of him. The only difference was their clothing - R in dark slacks with a grey cardigan over a white shirt. While the man was wearing a cream coloured tailored suit.

“There you are!” The man exclaimed pleasantly, a wide warm smile stretching his lips as he sauntered over to R who looked up at the approaching figure. Recognition, horror then despair flashing across his face. The man’s hand curled lovingly around R’s neck.

“Raoul, my love.” The man crooned, his voice dropping to a husky rumble. He hoisted R up by his collar, kissing R roughly.

“No!” R shouted as he tore his face away. Identical faces with expressions at such polar opposites. Q stared, unable to wrap his mind around the madness, as the two Raoul’s stared at each other.

“We’ll have plenty of time love,” the man smiled serenely. “I’ll be sure to give you all of my special treatments.”

“No,” R had begun to struggle now. “No!”

The man frowned, his warm smile tipping several degrees lower as R kept struggling. Q watched helplessly as those long fingers gripping at R’s neck and arm clenched tighter. Still disconcerted by the likeness of the man and R’s face - one smoothed into a mask of controlled anger, the other pale and splotchy. His repeated pleas dissolved to pained whimpers as cruel fingers digged in.

“Now now my love.” The man fumed softly. “You know this would be so much more easier if you cooperated.” He waited, looking expectantly at R, whose face twisted suddenly in disgust. 

“Never!” R spat, fueled by whatever the man’s words had triggered in him. R began struggling again, heedless of the grip the man still had on his arm and neck.

“Fine.” The name said simply, dropping R who fell to the floor on his back. R breathed hard through his nose, eyes sharp and wary as he watched the man who gave his crisp white suit a few tugs. Then strode over to Q.

“No no no no! Tiago, wait!” R’s chants increasing in trepidation as the man, Tiago, grabbed Q and hauled him to the door. R’s struggles to get up and persistent calls were ignored. 

“In the meantime,” Tiago said as he easily tossed Q out of the room, where several muscled guards stood waiting, “you’ll keep my men entertained.”

Tiago stalked off down the long hallway, one of the guards dragging Q along, as the rest of them entered the cell R remained in.

-

Raoul Silva made an exceptional second for Q Branch. Stepping into the last Quartermaster’s shoes wasn’t something the young Q was worried about. Gaining the respect and recognition from the branch he now commanded, yes, that worried him. Q thought he’d have a power struggle issue with R - the most senior staff - and the most charismatic one to boot. But Raoul had instead became Q’s most reliable colleague, and his first friend in MI6.

They hit it off exceptionally well. With Q’s own adept take over of the branch, transforming it into the technological heart of MI6. Together with R’s rapport with the rest of the staff, the both of them made quite the team. Head and main lead of the minions of Q branch. 

Q would have never imagined Raoul to be anything but what he was. 

On hindsight, Q realised he should have done a background check on him. If he had digged far enough, Q would have found records of a twin, separated, a few decades back.

-

Q was tossed back in the cell, just as one of the burly guards was stepping out. A glimpse of the guard’s blood streaked penis before he tucked it in, to the sight of R curled up on the floor, pants around his ankles. Horror and realisation brought a strangled cry out of Q as he made to move over to R. 

“Oh my love,” Tiago sighed as he shoved Q away before he reached R’s body. The man gently lifting his twin from the floor onto his lap. Q tried to focus as his vision spun, his eyes fixed on how the blood from between Raoul’s legs smeared Tiago’s white pants. How R remained still as his brother caressed his face lovingly, before redressing him with a tenderness Q simply couldn’t believe.

This same man, who only minutes earlier was beating Q to a bloody pulp, carefully tugging R’s clothes back on. The blood oozing from the cut on his eyebrow trickled down his eye just as a hacking cough seized him. When Q opened his eyes again, Raoul and Tiago were gone. 

-

"Raoul and I, we're soulmates. He was meant to be with me."

The words flew past Q the moment they hauled him into that room. All he saw was R.

R with his eyes open and vacant, head moving sluggishly. Drugged. His breathing so shallow Q was only sure after staring for seconds. Last he saw R, Tiago had taken him away, three days ago by Q's count.

"I knew we would have a special bond. I felt it, very early on."

Tiago didn't stop there, he went on and on and on. The more he spoke, and waxed poetry on his belief that his twin Raoul belonged to him. How it turned and twisted into an obsession. A possessiveness that took a morbid turn when the twins turned twelve.

By the time they were thirteen, Tiago had coerced Raoul into many things, sick perverted things. Q's head was spinning with the stereotypical villain monologue, he held his breath, waiting for 007 or anyone from MI6 to burst through the wall right then and there. Instead, Tiago kept on his sharing his ecstatic experience of wanting his twin brother - mind, body and soul.

He recalls an article on Gilles de Rais - stumbled on while he hunted down a child sex-trafficking ring - and he imagines Tiago as Gilles. And Raoul as a child. The bile in his empty stomach came burning up in his throat. Q's mind blanked out for several minutes as the words 'first time we made love' sent him into shock, body temperature plummeting as his eyes stared ahead, unseeing.

A harsh slap whipped his neck and rocked his whole torso, Q gasping as he blinked and saw cruel eyes set in a face Q knew well.  

"Did you miss the glorious details dear quartermaster?" Tiago chided, sniffing at Q before he strode over to Raoul. "Not to worry, I'm sure I can coax a reenactment out of my love." Raoul remained motionless where he was strapped to a metal bench.

One of Tiago's guards had stepped up behind Q, an arm across his chest, locking Q to face the two at the bench. Q turned his head away.

"Now now quartermaster, this show is specially for you." Tiago's tone chastising as he brought the taser down to tap at Raoul's bare thigh.

A startled shout echoing off the walls as the naked body jolted against the restraints. His earlier vacant eyes alight with panic as they darted towards Tiago, then Q, and back to Tiago. The sound that escaped Raoul's lips would haunt Q. As would the sight of R, straining against the straps that held him down with all the intensity of a desperate struggle. The man looming before him undoing his belt, shifting forward, triggering a sudden bout of shouted pleas.  

Even with his ears ringing, he could still hear the sound of the belt falling against the metal bench. The rustle of clothing. Grunts, pants, screams and more screams. Q had turned his head away till his neck ached. But with his hands bound behind his back, he couldn't block out the awful sounds. Auditory feedback painted its own picture in his mind's eye.

A rough hand grabbed at Q's jaw in a bruising grip, ensuring he couldn't turn his face away. Q's own breaths heaving out of him, as he forced himself to breath faster. Seeing faint white sparks behind his eyelids with how tightly he squeezed them shut.

Dorsal recumbent. Lithotomy. Dorsal recumbent. Supine. Dorsal- Supine. Supine. Supine.

Q forced his brain to words. Forced the words to binary. Binary to morse.

Inhale at every dash. Chasing an exhale at every dot. Looped, over and over again.

The hand at his jaw shifted to cover his mouth, he hadn't realised he was whispering rapidly to himself. The sound of a sharp slap startled Q to open his eyes. Immediately squeezing them shut again. Too late however as the image burned from behind his retinas into his brain.

Between his frantic run through of morse and binary, and his forced pants stinging his nostrils. It was the guard's unforgiving hand over his mouth, slipping up to block his nose, that did it.

Q welcomed the darkness as it came to save him.

-

Hacking coughs laced pain across Q's chest and up his throat as he continued to gag and dry heave. They had thrown him back in the cell, where he promptly leapt to the bucket in the corner and vomited.

Raoul's face - twisted in pain, despair - the anguish in his fever bright eyes. How when his gaze, fixed on the ceiling, drifted and caught sight of his quartermaster. Being made to watch.

Q squeezed his eyes shut, breaths heaving his chest and moving his head along it's rapid rhythm. Q tucked his chin in harder, wrapped his arms around himself tighter, fought to keep the vision out. Like it was a physical force raining blows on him. If only it was something as easy to block out as Tiago's cronies bashing him up. If only he could un-see, delete all traces of the video playback from his brain.

Shifting his arms as he rocked himself, Q felt them brush off his glasses that were on his head, heard them clatter to the floor. Focusing on the sound of plastic and metal frames connecting the cold hard concrete. Directing his thoughts to physics - sound waves - and chemistry - components: calcium oxide, silica.

He recalls R staring at the grey slush in R&D. A soft encouragement on his lips, bringing a hesitant smile to their newest minion.

R behind his desk at Q branch. Reddened-eyes squinting as he sent Q resources during a 47 hour mission.

R leaning back in his chair with a laugh. Kate had called him dashing in his Slytherin-green pinstripe shirt.

R with his head bent close to his two screens. Quiet and unassuming as Q scanned the list of his own completed reports, all he had to do was sign.

R and his brilliance saving the minion's hack against Q. Paying for the five dozen celebratory doughnuts before Q even reached for his wallet.

R. Raoul. His second in command. Adored by all, minions, Q, and even most of the 00's.

Q grasped on to that, with clenching fingers. Desperately holding onto the memory he has of R. The R of Q branch, where he should be. Q allowed himself to reminisce, lulling his tensed muscles. His curled body slumped against the wall as he fell into a fitful sleep.

-

Through a twist of morbid luck, the tiny button had popped out of his shoulder through a large gash during a punching bag session. Q prayed to whatever deities above and the micro-GPS button remained intact in the corner it had rolled in.

Between that time and now, Q had managed to activate the distress signal, sharing his location to Q branch. Before he swallowed the button, dirt, blood and all. All Q had to do now, was find out where they took R, and wait for retrieval.

Hours later, or the next day, Q wasn’t sure anymore. Tiago came by his cell again. Q didn’t have much time to formulate a plan, and with his head swimming in and out of consciousness, he hadn’t really thought of how he was going to find R. 

“Ah, my beloved Raoul.” Tiago crooned. He must have said something about R to Tiago, Q couldn’t remember what. “We were separated for so long, but he is mine again now.” 

His captor always spoke about Raoul, sharing updates Q would rather have not known. It reminded Q of the last time he had seen Raoul, strapped naked on that table. Q sucked in a shaky breath, willing his brain to get rid of that memory. Every visit from Tiago reinforced Q’s belief that Raoul’s twin was a sadistic psychopath with a sick sense of morality. 

“He knew I was coming for him you know.” Raoul’s twin said, as Q's breathing slowed down. He always waited for Q to stop screaming and catch his breath before he spoke. He wanted his words to achieve their full effect. Torturing the quartermaster, his body, and his mind.

-

Q was often left alone in the cell. Tiago would visit him to mentally torture him. When the guards sent Q his bottle of water - sometimes a stale piece of bread - they'd leave him be. When they had to empty the bucket, they'd beat him up some, then leave him be.

But alone, Q's mind was his only weapon. He kept a check on his body, and he kept a tight check on his mind. He'd count his binary set's in ten, clenching each finger to keep count. He'd keep track of days passing, with the schedule of water bottles, and emptied buckets. But he knew his count wasn't for sure.

So when day 5 came, he thought it was 7. When day 6 came, he thought it was 9.

Since swallowing the button, Q knew for sure it hadn't exited his body. But the micro-GPS had not been tested against the digestive tract's acidity. It could be sizzling away in Q's stomach for all he knew. Signal lost, and Q branch scampering.

When day 7 came, he thought it was 12. Q was losing hope. He hadn't seen R since --- Q shuddered, going through the numbers of pi. When he could breathe again, he picked up his train of thought, and realised that he hadn't seen R for more than a week. With the horror of knowing what had unfolded in just the first three days, Q shuddered, thinking of R undergoing all that. For more than a week. Q cried, then tried to plan. Q screamed his frustrations then was knocked out when a guard came to shut him up with a blow to his head.

Q woke up with a gasp, blood rushing to his fingertips, of his unbound hands.

"Q! Q!" A voice was shouting, as Q struggled to keep his eyes open. The sharp scent of ammonia hit his senses and Q found himself breathing in too quickly and for too long, choking on his breath. The sight of 007 and 006 greeted him. 006 gently straightened his legs as 007 wrapped his warm hands around Q's bare feet. The pins and needles fading from his hands, but still numb across his ankles. They heard gunshots and shouting and 007 was hoisting Q up. 006 watching the hallway from the door, gun at ready. At his signal they left the cell.

"Here, in here!" Q gasped, waving his hand at one of the doors down a turn, opposite from the one they just took. Q recognised it as the one Tiago brought him in, where R was. 006 kicked it in, brandishing his gun, took one sweeping look before he spun around. Alec exchanged a look with Bond, Q didn't hear them speak, but the next moment 007 had a firmer grip around him. Leading him hurriedly away from R's room.

"Is R in there?" He craned his neck to ask 006 who stood still as 007 led them away. "Get him out!" Q shouted, struggling weakly in Bond's firm grip. "Alec! Get R!"

Something flickered in 006's eyes, but Q wasn't sure, 007 and him were too far for Q to see Alec's face before the agent went back in the room.

"Bond, we must get R. He's - he-" Q kept trying to look back, hoping to see 006 behind them, with R.

"Let's get you out of here first." Bond grunted, half lifting Q along faster as a door unlocked for them. Bringing them to some type of service balcony. An agent Q didn't recognised signaled at them and Bond rushed over, nodded at the agent, wrapped his arms tight around Q. And jumped.

The free fall was very brief - they were probably on the second floor - but the landing was jarring despite the bags of rubbish and Bond's body cushioning him. Disorientated, Q felt himself being hauled up and bodily carried into a vehicle. They were speeding away by the time he blinked his vision back to focus.

"Wait." He called out breathlessly. "Wait! 007!"

"Alec has his car." Bond replied distractedly as he drove like a madman, eyes darting from the front to the side mirrors, to the rear view, before peeking at his blind spot.

"R! What about R?! If he's not in that room, then the other rooms?" Q shouted, turning in his seat to look out the rear window. Tiago definitely still had him. "Bond! Tiago, the man, he- he looks like R! Did you get him? He has R!"

"Not now Q." Bond swerved, bullets ricocheting off the side and back of the car. Bond cursed a streak and swerved again. The momentum had Q sliding off his seat onto the floor, his head slamming sideways against the door. Q blacked out again.

-

"You- No! You didn't find him!" Q shouted, as Eve calmly held onto Q's arm as she unhooked the IV fluids bag and placed it on the bed. Q ignored her, glaring hell at Alec.

"He's dead Q." Alec repeated, his eyes met Q's briefly, but looked back down as Q accused him.

"If you blew up that building, before finding him, of- bloody- course he's dead!" He seethed, heedless of the spittle, or the pain in his hand. He made a move to yank the IV needle out, but Eve's hand was in the way.

"I saw him Q. I-" Alec hesitated, looking back up imploringly at his quartermaster. Alec's gaze pleaded, but Q didn't want to see. He didn't want to believe this.

"NO! Where is he?! I ordered you to get R!" He shouted still, even when he felt his voice wavering. He glared still, even when moisture pooled in his eyes.

"I checked his pulse. I couldn't- the straps, there were, and-" Alec, smooth talker Alec, struggled with his words. The image of limbs and skin so swollen, the straps had cut into skin. The bulging skin on either side of the straps all stained red, while the rest of the skin - a pasty grey.  "They were closing in on us-" Q branch in Alec's ear had been near frantic, ordering Alec to leave the building. To leave the body. "I checked his pulse again."

Q sucked in a deep breath, ready to yell at the agent and his stupid sad face. A horrible sound escaped him when he opened his mouth. Forcing it close as his bit down on his lip, Q buried his face in his hands, his hands fisting the material of the hospital gown.

He doesn't remember heaving out sobs as his face grew wetter. He doesn't remember coughing into his lap as his body curled up on itself. He doesn't remember Eve's arms around him, nor does he see Alec step out, horror and anguish in his eyes.

Q is quiet the next day. He looks up when Bond and Alec visit him, Alec shuffling on his feet uncomfortably, as Q responded to whatever Bond said with silence.

Q doesn't speak again until he's discharged, a week later. Then only to M, to report.

Q goes back to Q branch proper five days after that, a week early, considering his mandated leave. Q thought he would feel better, in his domain, his branch. But his eyes couldn't help but glance at R's empty desk every so often.

R's desk remained empty, for six long months, before M reluctantly mandated Q to promote someone. The third in command filled up R's post. But it didn't help Q forget.

Little did Q know, his nightmares would live anew. When one Tiago Rodriguez, would take on the name of Raoul Silva. And destroy MI6 from within.

                                                            End

Full list of warnings and squicks listed below:

WARNINGS! WARNINGS! LISTED BELOW! WARNINGS! WARNINGS!

Q and R are captured, tortured - physical violence, bodily injuries, mind-fuckery, Q’s mind is tortured, R is raped (not graphic),  incest + rape (this is a spoiler), psycho villain doing sadistic shit, Q goes a bit crazy, Q suffers mentally more than physically, side-character death.

It’s angst week, and angst to me is torturing the hell out of my characters, there’s no rainbows and cotton candy fluff here. Try next week.

-

172-22412-D159-FDPFNP

[akwelvhi]

Masterpost - 007 Games

Team Q-branch |  Akwelvhi QB-V4  | Masterpost 2017

Category: 007 Games 2017

Fanfiction 

[WIP 1] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/162446732668/working-title

[Prompt fill] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/162480948943/q-branchs-got-talent

[WIP 2] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/162595717373/working-title

[Fluff Prompt fill - Transformation, Trans character day] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/162633870648/normal-people-knock-first

[Fluff Prompt fill - Pets, Trans character alt.POV] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/162747688443/normal-people-fuck-first

[WIP 3] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163016303073/working-title

[Fluff Prompt fill - Reconciliation. Anon prompt fill - Author AU] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163021318308/author-au

[Angst week, Angst Prompt fill - Isolation] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163060032453/isolation

[Angst Week, Angst Prompt fill - Capture and Helplessness] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163329723098/r-is-for-raoul

[AU day, Fluff Prompt fill - Transformation] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163493939313/bikerq-au

[Fluff Prompt fill - Holiday, *free space* Anniversary] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163601863418/liebling

-

Headcanons 

[Headcanon] [Fluff Prompt fill - Habits] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163018022198/q-branchs-headcanons

[Headcanon] [Fluff Prompt fill - Bed Sharing] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163057080193/q-headcanon

[Headcanon] [Fluff Prompt fill - Trust] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163288645313/q-branch-headcanon

[Headcanon] [Fluff Prompt fill - Home] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163531319033/q-branch-headcanon

[Headcanon] [Prompt fill - Pets & Gadgets] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163636456013/q-branch-headcanon

[Headcanon] [Anon Prompt fill - Baker Q] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163638745203/headcanon-prompt-fill

[Headcanon] [Anon Prompt fill - Fruity shampoos] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/163639604903/headcanon-prompt-fill

-

Others 

[Watch party] 6 Attended : Lin’s ST one, The Avengers, The Hour 2 episodes(?), Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace, Skyfall

[Chats] Attended : 1 Q branch chat

[Doodle] https://akwelvhi.tumblr.com/post/162465727153/would-this-chibi-count-as-a-doodle

[Other fancreation] [Round robin for 007 fest] http://teamqbranch.tumblr.com/post/163178563920/007-fest-2017-round-robin-tournament-is-open

[Other fancreation] [Q Branch HQ code 1]  https://qbranchhq.tumblr.com/post/163109051460/23-5-1-3-0-13-5-0010-5-20-00-0010-40-17

[Other fancreation [Q Branch HQ code 2]  https://qbranchhq.tumblr.com/post/163563363520/when-i-say-jump-youre-supposed-to-ask-how

[Other fancreation] [Love letter collab]  http://teamqbranch.tumblr.com/post/163645225890/love-letter-to-the-00s

-

Commenting count: 65 (likely more but I lost count)

 Total points count : 287 points

(For my ref)

Chronological order

(writings and headcanons count: 18)

172-22401-D147-FD  WIP 1

172-22402-D148-PF  Got talent

172-22403-D150-NP  WIP 2

172-22404-D151-PF  NPKF

172-22405-D152-NP   NPFF

172-22406-D149153-FDNP  WIP 3

172-22407-D154-PF  HC Habits

172-22408-D155-PF  Author AU

172-22409-D156-PF  HC Bedsharing

172-22410-D157-FD  Isolation

172-22411-D158-PF  HC Trust

172-22412-D159-FDPFNP  R is for Raoul

172-22413-D160-PFNP  Biker!Q AU

172-22414-D161-PF  HC Home

172-22415-D162-PF  Liebling

172-22416-D163-PF  HC Pets & Gadgets

172-22417-D164-PF  HC Q! Stress baker

172-22418-D165-PF  HC Fruity shampoo

[akwelvhi]

Working Title

Working Title [1/?]

Category: 007 Games 2017

Rating: General

Warning: None

-

Sleep deprivation, hormones and loneliness apparently made him susceptible to peer pressure. Online peer pressure of the anonymous hacker community sort. The hollow ache in his chest and itch beneath his skin eventually led to a slip of too fast fingers. Seconds of silence before the jibes started. 

Their words hurt less than his own self-chastisement at his slip. Vulnerability was a thing to be preyed on, his slip got him caught in one of their infamous dare games. He wasn’t one to get caught. He was one to accept dares, as and when he chose. 

Raking a hand through his unruly waves did nothing to tame it, nor ease his irritation, as he glared at the screen. Should he say no to the people who were his only “friends”? Should he salvage the reputation of this handle he had been using for the past three years? 

Slender fingers rubbed at tired eyes, before pushing the plastic rimmed glasses higher up an oily nose. Why not? He reasoned. Everyone his age was doing something special for their ‘sweet’ sixteen. It should count as extra special since his turning sixteen also coincided with the mid-term break as a first year University student. So while the rest of the hostel was out getting pissed drunk. He accepted the dare.

Hack into a specified public polling system, tweak the results, just a little bit to prove. Under half an hour.

He shouldn’t have. He really shouldn’t have.

But as he leaned back in his seat, surveying the many lines of code, the stopwatch widget on his screen flashed a fifteen minute countdown. Lips pressed thin in concentration twitched into a smirk. His finger pressed down onto the Enter key before he thought better.

The reward was instantaneous, especially so when the issued dare was successfully completed. The minimized chatbox on his taskbar sprang to life with incoming messages, its tiny pop-up screen scrolling faster than his bleary eyes could track.

The astonishment, disbelief and praise flooded on and on for several minutes. He soaked it in, letting their words fill the empty spaces inside him. The adrenaline rush, and following crash, had him flopping back onto his bed. And immediately falling fast asleep.

Mid-term break comes and goes and he caries on with his schedule, blissfully unaware, as a certain discrepancy in the polling system opens a case for investigation. 

-

172-22401-D147-FD

[akwelvhi]

Working Title

Working Title [3/?]

Category: 007 Games 2017

Rating: General

-

Follows this. Alternatively, start here. (I’m itching to rework the earlier parts…)

-

“Agent, is that an Mk II grenade?” Boothroyd asked, his voice maintaining professionalism, but Agent Quart heard the undertones of his excitement. 

“It’s a Mini-K 66 prototype.” The agent panted as he set the cube against the digital lock and activated the scrambler, instantly unlocking it. Taking off again down hallways and bends, glancing at his watch’s indicator before each turn.

“Just a little something I put together, want the specs?” Q said, flashing a grin at a security camera he raced past. 

“And will they match up with Q branch’s pilfered tech?” Boothroyd wondered out loud as Q scoffed loudly. Some static and Boothroyd disconnect before Q heard Anya - Q branch’s second - come onto the comms.

“Right on time.” Q replied to Anya’s log in. “I’m in the server room, linking up, now.” He spoke as his hands unravelled the cables kept in the inner pockets of his suit. Plugging them into the terminals main board, then to his pocket-sized laptop. Good enough to open a backdoor for Q branch to enter. 

“Going in.” Anya’s soft clipped tones overshadowed by the loud noisy clacking of rapid fingers on a keyboard. “Kindly don’t touch your keyboard agent Quart.” The last time the agent tried ‘helping’ them, he accidentally set of their alarms as Q Branch registered his ping as an outside threat.  

“Will you let me test my fail-safe protocol in Q Branch’s mainframe?”

“Maybe after those specs are on my table Quart.” Boothroyd interrupted. Quart chucked before snooping around the servers for the several minutes Q Branch needed to get the job done on their end. 

-

Being a MI6 field agent was indefinitely a hundred times more interesting than serving on board a naval vessel. For starters, being land bound meant a solid internet connection. New technology at his fingertips. Gadgets. An MI6 issued laptop, connected to the MI6 mainframe. And - the best part yet - Q branch. It was still very much equipment and mission intel support. But with the potential to evolve into the technological nucleus of MI6. He had his eyes set on Q branch. 

Letting his skills shine in anything computer related wasn’t all that difficult. Many people still struggled with the ‘new machines’, a helping hand here and a show of hyper-fast typing there. He soon was the go-to agent for all missions involving anything technological. From analogue translation to hijacking servers either remotely or personally. Though most of the time, it was cyber reconnaissance, as organisations internationally plunged into the digital world.

It didn’t take him long to gain the good graces of the techies at Q branch. Major Boothroyd was a bit harder to crack, but once the young field agent discovered his love for modified firearms. A gift or two of detailed specifications had the head of Q branch more likely to turn a blind eye to a few missing items. As long as they turned back up again, accompanied with a set of new specs of what happened to them. 

His years as a field agent went swimmingly well. He was gaining recognition for his accomplishments on the field, and his work with Q branch. So when he was called in for an appraisal meeting some years later, he was expecting to be told of a transfer to Q branch. 

Not to the Double Oh training program. 

-

Oi git! I know you’re alive. Mummy is off her rocker! Send her an email at least! - E.L

I need new blades. You know my bank account. - Y.L

-

The top three field agents were named Hal, Drit and Quart. Because their trainer, Commander Edric, had a thing for Germans. The remaining seven were named after butchered versions of the seven dwarfs. 

Quart was glad he made the top three. 

-

Mummy’s birthday is tomorrow, don’t forget. You forgot mine. P.S. you know my bank account number. - Y.L

Quart ordered flowers and fudged the numbers a bit so that his order was delivered first. 

-

He went through the training program, and mentally hated himself for agreeing to this degree of physical torture. He really hated physically straining himself. Sure there was the adrenaline and satisfaction from being physically fit. But this. This insane training.

This was pushing it to limits he found to be quite ridiculous. And he really didn’t want to tear his ACL before he even hit his 30s. Quart wasn’t the only agent struggling to keep up with their training. But he was the only one who really didn’t want to be a Double O agent. 

Maybe if Double O agents got the chance to hack into Russia’s intel database he would be keen. As far as he knew, Double Oh’s were more likely to physically hack into Russia than they were to patiently type the lines of code required to subvert control of their operating systems. 

Another thing that puzzled him was. He was the youngest agent in the training program. At least he wasn’t the only young-faced one around, Lassie was the one to fend off questions about her age. A bit of snooping later had Quart noting that every single one of the agents he was training alongside, came from at least a decade of experience in the field. 

What was he, a field agent of only four-odd years, doing in a program like this?

-

“So they’re training children now?” The double agent asked, a smirk on his handsomely cut face. 

All eyes in the shooting range swerved to the source, a lone figure leaning by the side of the door, how had none of them heard him come in. Unperturbed by the room full of trained agents, the man levered them with an easy stare. Eyes piercing like an arctic wolf. 

Those blue eyes swept across the room and when they met dark green ones, Quart thought he saw a flicker of something in them. 

“Or maybe you, 007, are getting a bit too old?” Commander Edric countered lowly. “Line up!” the bellowed order had the younger agents at ready in neat rows behind the preparation benches.

“So obedient.” 007 commented, that handsome smirk starting to grate on Quart’s nerves. 

“There are some fine marksmen here,” Commander Edric continued. “Fine enough to put you old warships to shame.” 

“You don’t say.” The double agent observed, watchful gaze analysing the junior agents as he prowled up to the preperation benches. Selecting a gun and loading it, all without taking his eyes off his new prey. 

“Shall we?”

-

Some months later.

-

FAIL

Thick. Black. Glossy. Block letters.

Printed, front and centre, of a white card stock. At the back, details of a debriefing the following day.

“What?” Quart scoffed, staring down in disbelief, as the message made its way into his brain. 

“The fuck?” The exclamation came a few doors down, Laddie was reading the other side of his card, identical to Quart’s. 

“Did everyone get this?” Hickey waved his up.

“Some joke is it?” Lassie fumed, tossing her braid over her shoulder as she shook her card angrily.

While rest of his fellow training mates exchanged cusses, Quart dug out his bottle of Cpatain Morgan at the bottom of his locker. Commander Edric had clearly stated that last night was the final test. Even failure called for some celebration in his books.

Looking down into the swirling golden liquid in his glass. Quart’s eyes grew pensive as he stared at the melting ice and its water tendrils, diluting his shot of Captain Morgan. 

“Alright mates! Let’s get smashed!” Hal announced, holding up a bottle of Vodka. Quart didn’t recognise the brand, but from the make of it, it looked potent. Besides Hal and himself, six of the seven dwarfs were also present. Between the eight of them, nine assorted bottles of Vodka went down, and one Captain Morgan. 

Chesty didn’t have his shirt on, all pectorals and abdomen ridges on display. Quart may or may not have been staring openly, forgetting propriety with the amount of alcohol in his system. He may or may not have kissed somebody. He couldn’t really remember.  

-

To be honest, he had grown quite fond of the name Quart.

-

“Agent Quart. Formerly, Lieutenant Langley.” The lady said in lieu of a greeting, her sharp eyes pinning Quart with a piercing stare.

So this was M.

And M had an offer. 

With Major Boothroyd there, Quart really didn’t have to guess hard. Throughout the brief but succinct meeting, he was fighting more to keep the grin off his face under the – truly intimidating aura – of the formidable head of MI6. 

Major Boothroyd, Commander Edric and himself stepped into the lift, barely five minutes later, and Quart couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“So this?” Quart asked, holding out the white card with the word FAIL printed on it. 

“Oh all of you were bound to fail anyway.” Edric answered easily. “Didn’t you know, they only recruit orphans.” 

-

Tell Mummy I’m coming home for Christmas. - Lt. L

Happy belated birthday. P.S. Check your bank balance. - Lt. L

-

172-22406-D149153-FDNP

[akwelvhi]

Category: 007 Games 2017

Chibi Q