Work Text
Alex doesn't spend a lot of time with Bond, James Bond, despite all the work that he and Q invested to get Alex off the MI6 Kill List and into Q Branch. 007 is like a god at MI6, strutting into the room with the pitiful remnants of the newest gadget Q had spent weeks perfecting for him.He'd looked the exact same when he'd marched into the dingy, boring, American office MI6 had stuck Alex in and said, "My name is Bond, James Bond. And I'm here to take you home."Alex sees Bond, James Bond a lot, between work at Q Branch and leisure time with Danny and Q, who took an immediate, if somewhat startling liking to each other. But despite the fact that their respective partners seem to adore each other, Alex and Bond, James Bond have never found that easy rhythm.They talk about work. And occasionally about Q and Danny. But there is really only one other subject that they are both passionate about: cheese.And on certain days, when Danny and Q are sprawled on the couch, watching Saturday cartoons and snacking on cheese strings, the heathens, Bond, James Bond takes Alex to the cheese market."Let's get out of here," he says to Alex one morning, eyes glimmering like they rarely do, "and find ourselves some true couture.""Piss off," Q calls from his sprawl on the couch. Alex can barely see him underneath the mass of his two cats. Princess Pampurria purrs at him enticingly. "This is the highest class you'll ever find."Bond, James Bond wrinkles his nose at the cartoons playing, and at the revolting junk Danny is eating, unintimidated by Turing's fluffy tail repeatedly batting his face. "I think some fresh air would do us good," he says and walks out the door.Alex says goodbye to Danny and Q and tracks down 007 two blocks away."There's a cheese festival down the road," he says when Alex approaches."Alright," Alex says.
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The cheese festival is filled with, well, cheese. More cheese than Alex could have imagined. Yellow cheese and squishy cheese and cheese wheels and cheeses Alex has never even heard of before.Bond, James Bond strolls over to a table and plucks two samples from the nearest tray. “Cheese?” he asks, extending one toothpick-impaled cube.Alex nods and takes the sample, bringing it to his mouth.“I could have done that for you,” Bond, James Bond says.Alex hesitates, unsure of how to respond. Danny would laugh, smile brilliantly. Probably flirt back. Alex settles for, “That’s alright.”Amidst the stands filled with cheese, there is also a wine table. Alex snags two glasses and they drink the cheap wine off to the side, watching the cheese enthusiasts jostle each other and vie for the best view of the samples.As Alex watches, a group of teenagers takes a selfie in front of a large cheese wheel.“In about a month, the Great British Cheese Festival will be here,” Bond, James Bond announces. “We should go.”Alex reaches for the nearest cheese sample and holds it in the air between them. A joke. A challenge.Bond, James Bond smirks and leans forward, letting Alex put the cube in his mouth. “Is that a yes?” he asks.Alex glances around the small cheese festival, imagines a bigger one, a grander one. “Yes,” he says. “Alright.”“Good,” Bond, James Bond says, polishing off the last of his wine. “I already bought the tickets.”