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Footsteps pounded down the dark alleyway. Closer and closer, until they came to a complete stop. Q shut his eyes briefly and offered up a silent prayer. “Please keep me hidden.” Q had a dislocated shoulder, broken glasses and a hangnail. He wasn’t in any shape to fight back. He peered out from his hiding place behind a dumpster. So far so good, only one knobhead. His attempted kidnapping had happened just around the corner from MI6. “Q?” 007 asked, his voice low and quiet.Q’s eyes popped open, oh thank God, it was HIS knobhead! "007. What kept you?"
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Just around the corner from the deli down the street,
There lived a magical man and his magical cat.
The magical cat was a magical accident.
All golden and tough with a torn tabby ear,
Together they made such an interesting pair
His neighbors would ask as often as air,
where did you get such an interesting cat?
And Q would reply with the cat nearby,
I met the fellow at work and how the sparks did fly.
Sparks with a cat?
He’s a very special cat.
Does the cat have a name?
Mr. James Bond is this cat’s name.
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He was standing on a precipice, the world seemed to disappear below him. Bond glanced up at the night sky, the stars winked at him through the passing storm clouds. Water dripped from his face and bespoke suit as he calmly considered his options. A voice, soft, posh and very threatening crackled to life in his ear. “Tick, tock, Mr. Bond. Tick tock. Time waits for no man.” A wry smile pulled at Bond’s lips and thought back to the trio of movies Q had forced him to watch months ago when he had discovered Bond hadn’t understood what my precious meant during one of their lazy lie-ins. “I am no man.”The voice laughed in response. It was broken up by static. “Very clever, now move your arse. You’ve got just one shot at this. Make it count.” Bond considered the height that he was about to drop from. “Just like threading a needle, Q.” He adjusted his stance and bent his knees.A snort came over the line. “Do you sew Mr. Bond?” “All my suits are Qustom made,” Bond said as he leaped. A delicate, black parachute unfolded from his jacket with the tug of a cufflink.
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Resurrection was a little known part of the Quartermaster’s job. It was a demanding procedure, tricky even. He’d had quite a few spectacular and dangerous results. Some agents weren’t meant to come back, some were never the same again and some...had to be destroyed.Except for Bond. He took to resurrection like a psychotic duck to water. There wasn’t anything that he had been through that Q couldn’t drag him back from. “I’m tired Moneypenny. He’s literally taking years off my life.”“Someone has to deal with him,” Moneypenny said. “And besides, you love seeing those blue eyes see YOU for the first time, every time you bring him back.”Unfortunately, Moneypenny was correct. Q coughed. There was something terribly enchanting about an assassin with wonder in his eyes when he spotted Q.“Remind me why you’re complaining?” Moneypenny asked.“Remind me why I like you?” Q sighed out through his nose. “Extraction team incoming,” Moneypenny said pressing her earpiece.“Can’t wait.”Terrible things happened every day. It was always a terrible day when 007’s body was brought into his Necro room, where the laborious process of resurrecting an agent took its toll on Q. One more year was taken from his life.“I know you,” Bond’s voice rough when he finally woke. His face lax and sleepy, his eyes tracking Q’s every move.“Of course you do, fool.”Now came the time Q’s strength would leave him and Bond would stay, keeping him company, sharing tea from a Scrabble mug.
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Resurrection isn’t a game. It’s a curse. To live, to die, to return again...and again and again. But only when you’ve been forgotten.Erased several times throughout his life, it was always a shock to be brought back and at frightening speed. He rose gasping from the bed, drenched in sweat. Dreams, neverending dreams. One on top of the other, combined into several. Faces and places he couldn’t quite place. Except for one faint memory of pale skin sweeping past his fingers, like sand through an hourglass. He would know that skin anywhere. He tossed the blankets to the side and stared at the wall. A voice soft and sibilant filled his head.“Stay with me, James?” A hand stroked along his face, caressing and cupping.“Until the end of time.” James followed the smooth line of the Immortal’s back. They could stay together in this time and in the next, Q would be there.“Remember me always.”“Remember ME always.”Extracting a promise from an Immortal is a tricky thing. James smiled against the smooth skin as bare legs and arms entwined with his until the strong wiry frame of his lover rose above him.CTION
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“Go on holiday they said. Bask in the sunlight they said. Enjoy your time away from the office they said!” Q’s voice was razor sharp and cutting as he hissed his rambling monologue in Bond’s ear. In fact, Bond could swear spittle hit his earlobe several times. Bond murmured carefully back to him from the corner of his mouth. “Are you talking to yourself again?” Again, Q was like an angry hornet in his ear. He even punched Bond’s shoulder with his bony knuckles, hard as he punctuated each sentence. “Yes. I am. Does that bother you?” “No. I'm just wondering how long it’ll take before they find us with you wittering on like an old nanny goat.” “Nanny goat! Hey, I’ll bitch about going on holiday when I want to bitch about going on holiday okay! You shot up the bar! It was a peaceful place.” “The decor was outdated.” Q sputtered. “It was a perfectly delightful, quaint Mediterranean bar. They had homemade lemonade and sodas. It had cute little chairs that I could sit on all by myself. At a table, all by myself.” Bond didn’t even hesitate in teasing Q further. “As I said. Outdated.” Q’s face grew red. Well redder than it already was. Poor, pale, old thing was sunburned. “It had umbrellas that protected my skin from the sun!” Q punched Bond again. “And now look at us. Look at me, I’m burnt to a crisp because you interrupted my holiday because M sent you out on a mission and you didn’t like the handler R assigned you so you led your target all the way over here! To my vacation spot, because you’re spoiled!” Bond smiled. “So you’ll help me then?” “I’ll help shoot you myself. Now give me that drive, you pompous git.”