#cherrygoldlove

“You want me to hide in a closet?” Bond asked, incredulous that Q had even thought of suggesting something so ridiculous.

“No, Bond, I want you to be out and proud,” Q bit out. “Follow the orders of your superior officer, 007, and get yourself in that closet, your tail is advancing on you.” He could tell from the tone his agent was using that he was fighting a losing battle, even if he honestly tried to pull rank.

“You’ll be paying my dry cleaning bill,” Bond muttered as he did as Q instructed, turning the next corner and hiding in the closet.

Q’s eyes flitted over the screens, taking in the person that had been tailing Bond. They seemed to not notice the agent turn off down a different hallway and walked past, reaching into his jacket for something. Q sighed, somehow this mission was turning into a small disaster.

“Right, you’re clear,” he said when the tail had entered the room Grisham had gone into. “If you continue following this hallway, you’ll make it to the kitchen which will lead to an alley. You’ll be able to get away and no one will be the wiser.” Q tapped at his keyboard, issuing electronic commands to different teams so they could prepare for dealing with Grisham and his friend.

Instead of heading the way Q told him to, Bond moved cautiously through the hallway to the room he was meant to meet Grisham in, the one where two men were waiting—one of them most definitely armed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m taking care of this.”

“I told you to get out of there,” Q huffed, fingers tapping the keys furiously as he attempted to figure out a different way of stopping Bond from getting into that room.

“I’m not going to be made a fool of.”

“Oh Christ, 007. No one even knows it was you. Just get out of there and return to headquarters so I can properly reprimand you for disobeying an order.”

“Oh Q, you can reprimand me anytime,” Bond teased.

“You are going to be a test dummy for the next month if you do not get your arse out of that building,” Q threatened, desperately wishing he had control over the building's security systems. He was rushing to hack into the sprinkler system. It was the only course of action that was available and while the water wouldn’t slow Bond down, Q knew it would send the other two running.

“Please shut up, Q.”

Q sucked in a breath, his eyes narrowing at the agent on the screen. He was going to enjoy making Bond suffer for the next month. Q was going to get his minions to create a list of all the jobs they hated doing and make Bond do them, well, after he laid into Bond for being a prat. He was sure he could talk Mallory into keeping Bond off missions for the next little while. It would do the agent good to get a little taste of hard work that didn’t end with him in some pretty woman’s bed.

“Fine, 007. Shall we wager that you won’t be able to get out of this alone?” Q suggested, letting his fingers still on the keyboard.

Bond stilled in the hallway, eyes flicking toward the nearest camera as though he could look straight through it to Q.

“What do I get if I win?”

Q tapped a finger against his desk, thinking as fast as he could. There were many options really—he could wager up Bond doing all those terrible jobs or he could go down a different route. It was tempting to play it safe but Q felt reckless, could feel the tension creeping up on him at the tone Bond was using.

“You can choose one weapon from R&D to test for a day,” Q offered though it pained him to do so. Letting a double-oh free on his prototypes was not a good idea.

“Only one?”

”Don't push it, 007”

Bond smirked at the camera and Q could tell that the agent stopped himself from making some sort of innuendo. “What if you win?”

“I’ll think of something.”

Bond nodded at the camera and pushed open the door that led to Grisham and his friend.

Q watched, ready to jump in if Bond needed his help. It was difficult to sit back and not say anything to help his agent, it felt wrong like he wasn’t doing his job. But Q had to admit that was intrigued to see what Bond planned to do. If anyone noticed the three men in the room, they would likely all be caught and Q would need to step in.

Bond entered the room, all his earlier confidence returned and started talking to Grisham as though nothing was the matter.

Q smiled. It was one of his favourite things about working on missions with Bond, getting to watch the blond in action. There was an ease to him when he was playing a role like he was more comfortable being someone else. Psych would have a field day with Bond if they could ever get their hands on him, Q wondered if that should be what he made Bond do when he won the bet.

It didn’t take long for the conversation to descend into chaos. Grisham pulled out a gun but Bond was faster, ducking and taking the other guy out at the knees. Before he landed, Bond was up, disarming Grisham with a well-placed hit to the wrist.

Q shifted his weight from foot to foot as he watched the fight play out. He itched to do something, to contribute to his agent’s success somehow, but Bond has both men on the ground, unconscious before Q had any thought of how he could help.

“If you’re quite finished,” Q sniped, his fingers rapidly tapping away at the keyboard again. He had to get another team in there to collect the two unconscious men so they could be interrogated later to find out who they were working for.

“Absolutely, Quartermaster, all yours,” Bond said, standing and straightening his jacket before leaving the room.

“I expect you back here within the hour, 007.”

“Yes, sir.”

Q’s fingers faltered on the keyboard, accidentally sending a half-finished email.