Bond didn’t know why Alastair hired a boy to do the IT work, but he would be damned if he’d let this mission go wrong because of a kid with big eyes. He would do his job, stay away from the laptop and get the money.
It all sounded so easy, but in reality, James found himself drawn to the hacker. He looked so bloody young. His curls so soft, his clothes far too big on his slender frame, and there was something about his dry humour and his sassiness that James found refreshing. He could spend hours bickering with him and wouldn’t grow bored; Q always had words to respond to him and all of that while working on his computer, slender, bony fingers flying over the keys like he was running away from death.
James had nothing to do. He had to wait until Q found the treasure they were supposed to steal back, and until his guns arrived. Alec promised to send them immediately, but there had been problems with the customs.
Because of that – and his growing attraction – James was in the same room as Q when it happened.
The typing suddenly stopped. It was maybe the first time James heard Q halt, pause in his work. It had been a constant noise every time James had been in here, and whenever he had passed the room with the doors being open. Q never seemed to sleep either; there were dark rings under his eyes and he lost weight. James planned on dragging him out of here the first moment he had.
But right now, the lack of tapping and clicking made him look up, one eye cracked open to regard Q calmly. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Q jumped off his seat, turned around and began to pack hastily. Even from the distance, James could see that his hands were shaking.
Alarmed, he got up as well and approached. He had no idea what the numbers on the screen meant, as this went far beyond his hacking and technology skills, but the fact that a series of numbers was red, he could figure that something was wrong. He just didn’t know what it was, but that didn’t matter right now.
“How long do we have?” He asked Q, pushing his equipment into the boy’s hands so they would be faster. The response was incoherent babbling. James sighed and shut the laptop, pushing it into Q’s hands just as the boy turned around to take it. “Q, answer.”
“T-ten minutes,” Q said quietly, packing up as fast as he could. When he reached out to shoulder it, James just took it from his hands and put it on his own. He was stronger, more used to carrying weight and running at the same time. Besides, it made him feel useful. Seeing Q like this, so panicked and worried, it was... wrong. “They’re a-already on their way. Th-they tracked down my signal and found us, I... I don’t know how...”
“Is this the first time someone tracked you down?” James asked, already assessing the situation. If they’d hurry, they could make it down to the cars, or maybe even up the roof to the helicopter. James had no license, but he knew how to fly them, and he had a hideout not too far away from here, a few hours of flying, they could make it.
Q nodded, curling his fingers into the hem of his cardigan. “I don’t know how...”
James sushed him with a gesture of his hand, then opened the door for them. If they still had ten minutes, then he needed to take Q to safety. He had none of his guns yet, but knew there were some in the garage. “Do you know how to set up and start a helicopter?” He asked, instead of the dozen things he wanted to say. I will keep you safe, he wanted to say, I won’t let anyone harm you, just trust me, we’ll make it out of here. He had never been one for calming, soothing words, and that hadn’t changed since he came here.
“No,” Q said, straightening up a bit. Maybe James wasn’t the only one comforted by tasks, by a clear instruction of what to do. “But I can try. What are you...”
“I’m going down. We need guns. I want you to set the helicopter up and start it, but don’t open the roof yet. Lock the door. Stay away from it until I call for you, alright?” When Q didn’t reply, he cupped his cheeks, forcing the boy to look into his eyes. “Alright?”
Q finally nodded, biting into his lower lip anxiously. “Alright.”
James pulled away again and turned around, walking to the direction of the lift. Half-way there, he stopped, however, and turned to regard Q calmly. “How old are you, exactly?”
“None of your business,” Q hissed, glaring at him through the curls falling into his face. He walked away, muttering curses and insults under his breath.
James smirked. At least he stopped trembling and looking as if he was about to fall over any second. It was easier to work with an enraged, pissed off hacker than with a terrified one, and James made a mental note to pushing some food into the boy’s mouth, if it was the last thing he’d do. He needed fat on his bones. On their flight, James didn’t need an unconscious hacker to carry too; his equipment was heavy enough, already.
Pushing the button on the lift, he stood there, trying to contain the adrenaline, keep his composure. He didn’t know how many men were on their way. All he knew was that he had to deal with a civilian, an untrained, panicked one, and that he had a thing for said. Meaning that he had to calculate in injuries he’d gain in his attempt to keep Q safe.
James sighed, rubbing his face. That wasn’t how he imagined kidnapping Q to go on a vacation. There was far too much stress in it. Not enough alcohol, not enough cigarettes, not enough sex.
The door of the lift slid open. James froze, seeing four men standing there with their guns raised towards him, their faces masked, only their eyes visible.
“Oh joy,” James mumbled, ducked and rushed forward.
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