#sixmith

Yours eternally, R.F.

“...Az utolsó Cambridge-i éjszakánkra emlékeztető tomboló mámorban fejeztem be a művem. Végignéztem az utolsó napfelkeltém, kiélveztem az utolsó cigarettám. Nem hittem volna, hogy a látvány tökéletességét fokozni lehet, mígnem megláttam azt az elnyűtt, puha kalapot. 

Őszintén Sixmith, bármilyen nevetségesen is nézel ki abban a vacakban, nem hiszem, hogy valaha is láttam volna ennél szebbet.

Ahhhhhhhhhh Roberttt plzzz do not let him hurt like thattttt ~~~ - anon

just come back from vacation and come across the cloud atlas one! Owww my GOD you can't let it be like THAT!!! For the love of God, plz make sure both double-oh agent keep their lover safe from now on! – anon

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Aaand here you all are! I like this crossover… Jen.

Part One – 006 is Rufus Sixsmith, and Q has a twin brother…

Part Two – Bond meets Robert Frobisher.

Part Three – The four of them at a concert!

Part Four – Robert is captured and tortured, instead of Q.

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Robert was taken into hospital, Sixsmith adamantly refusing to leave his side; Bond let the pair of them go, keeping Q in his ear, while his brother cried out in Q’s voice, sending shivers through Bond’s body.

“Jesus fucking…” Q muttered in his ear; he was long since out of MI6, making his way down to the hospital to find Robert. Bond had a strong suspicion he’d forgotten about the microphone that kept him tapped into Bond – Sixsmith had removed his, to concentrate wholly on his partner – thus letting Bond hear the caught curses, the slight hitches of breath that came with Q feeling what could only be guilt.

The moment he arrived, Bond scooped his partner into a solid embrace. Q was in an obvious state, barely maintaining his stoicism, falling against Bond and honestly shaking. “Q, this was not your fault,” Bond murmured to him.

Q shook his head. “It’s my job. This is my job, and it’s got Bobby involved. It’s not fair on him, he didn’t… and his fingers, James. They targeted… it’s the thing that matters most, its how he communicates, through his music, and I just…”

Bond hushed him, brushing kisses onto the top of his head. “If you hadn’t been tracking him, it would have taken twice as long,” he pointed out. In practise – if Q had been taken, they still wouldn’t have him back. God alone knew what they would have done in another day, another few days. Fingers could have been the least of their worries.

“He’s my brother,” Q murmured. “I want to keep him safe.”

“You did,” Bond repeated, as emphatically as he could. “You got him back. He’s safe now, with Sixsmith, and he’ll be alright. He’ll heal. It’s not okay, but it was not your fault.”

Q nodded, sighing slightly; he straightened as Sixsmith emerged, cocking his head to one side. “How is he?” he asked immediately; Rufus sighed a little, looking a little more composed than he had previously.

“He’ll be fine. He needs some time in hospital, physical therapy obviously – but he’s not in any real jeopardy,” Sixsmith explained, collapsing into a chair. “Go see him, Q, he wants to know you’re safe.”

Bond had literally never seen Q move so fast; it was almost impossible to keep up with the man. Q knocked gently on Robert’s door, pushing it open to find his twin looking quietly frightened, but very much alive. “Bobby,” Q said with a smile.

“Robert,” Robert rasped obstreperously in reply, and Q grinned.