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The mission was successful, but bloody. It was time to destress.The strobe lights flashed red and yellow. The bass line reverberated in his chest. The place was crowded and people kept pushing into him. Bond shouldered past a couple, knocking their drinks. He didn’t apologize as he passed. He was glad he had fortified himself with two tumblers of scotch and a line of Ketamine before coming out to the discothèque. The alcohol and drugs took the edge off the post-mission adrenaline. Dulled his senses enough that he could move through the crowded club without the sudden need to pull out his gun and shoot.He pushed his way towards the bar near the back of the room. Circling around the room with the frenetic movement of dancing. Arms and bodies twisting and waving as if excessive sweat made up for lack of skill or grace.He leaned over the bar and shouted for a beer. The bartender nodded and reached into a tub of ice and pulled out a long neck. Removing the cap with the efficacy of experience, he handed the bottle over to Bond, who slipped the twenty-pound note back to the man.“Keep it,” Bond said.Slowly he lifted the bottle to lips and took a long sip. His eyes scanning over the crowd – looking at the faces. He wasn’t looking for anyone particular, but he was also making sure he wasn’t seeing anyone he wanted to avoid.It had been a bad mission. Not where he had been injured excessively, but one where he had to shoot too many people. One where there was a moment he wasn’t sure he would make it back to England. His nerves were humming from it. And he needed to trigger the spark that would discharge the electricity that was crackling under his skin.He turned back to the bar to ask the bartender a question when he noticed the couple at the far end of the bar. A man and a woman. The man held a champaign glass in his hand as he glanced up at Bond. The woman, in mid to late forties, had dark hair and large expressive eyes. She was attractive in an effortless way that made a greater impression than overtness. She was slight in build but not fashion model/heroin addict thin. There was something familiar about her but he couldn’t exactly place her.The man, though, Bond knew immediately. Dark hair and a trim beard. He, too, was thin but Bond knew that there were whipcord muscles under his clothing. Bond remembered him. He collaborated with him in Rome five years ago. He was an excellent assassin, calm and relaxed with nerves of steel. He was also an excellent shag.The woman hadn’t seen Bond, but the man had. He paused lifting his glass to his lips and stared back at Bond. Then he leaned forward and whispered into the woman’s ear. She glanced over at Bond then back to the man. Bond saw the man say something else. She nodded her head and reached up to lightly kiss his cheek. Bond started to walk towards them as the woman glanced once more at him before she quickly turned and walked off, disappeared into the crowd.The man’s eyes never left Bond’s. He watched carefully as the agent moved closer. Like a prey animal caught in the stare of the tiger before it pounced.The man took another sip of his champaign then set the glass down on the bar. He let his hands fall to his sides, in a relaxed manner, but Bond was not fooled. Bond was certain the other man was armed. Probably an automatic at the small of his back.“Hello, James. Are you here for me?” Sam Young asked.“I didn’t even know you were here,” Bond smiled at him. “I thought you preferred Rome.”“Rome is lovely this time of year. But one misses home for the holidays.”Bond stepped nearer. He leaned into Sam’s personal space as he reached for Sam’s glass of wine.“Still prefer champaign?” Bond asked in a rumbling voice.He could see the younger man weave closer to him. His voice drawing him in like a lure.“Always. And you?” Sam asked.Bond picked up Sam’s glass and swallowed the remaining champaign. “You know me . . . always up for something different.”Sam twisted his chin slightly as he shifted towards Bond.“You were always adaptive to new experiences.”Bond smiled at the younger man.Sam’s eyes shifted away from Bond and across the room. He watched the dancing and the drinking.“Are you working tonight? I didn’t think London was on your patch.”“Just home from a trip. Needed a little diversion to get over the jetlag,” Bond huffed out.“So you’re not working tonight – just like me.”“Am I?”Sam smiled, “Off the clock.” Bond smirked and waved to the bartender. The man refilled Sam’s champaign glass. Bond took another large gulp before holding it out to Sam.Sam’s eyes narrowed for a moment then he reached out and cupped Bond’s cheek.“You took something.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.“Sorry but I don’t have any to share,” Bond said with smile.Sam cocked his head to the side slightly. He leaned forward and spoke directly into Bond’s ear.“I would be willing to share with you.”Bond’s hand slipped down Sam’s side then landed on his hip. Pulling the younger man closer.“And what would you be willing to share with me?” He purred as he dragged his lips over Sam’s cheek.“A little ‘Molly’ and a night in bed.”“Let’s go,” Bond growled as his hand slipped around Sam’s back. He pulled the smaller man tight against him.Sam twisted and pushed Bond away from the bar and into a wall behind them. Bond’s hands naturally encircled the lithe body as Sam pressed up against him. His mouth instantly searching out Bond’s.Bond hand moved the small of Sam’s back and lightly stroked down.“Not there,” Sam whispered into Bond’s mouth.“Where is it?” Bond asked as he shifted his stance wider to invite the younger man closer.“Front right pocket. And the pills are in my left front pocket . . .”Sam’s hand slipped from James’ face and down to his side. Sam’s fingers slipped into his pocket and then covertly back up to his mouth.Bond eyes shifted from Sam’s hazel eyes down to his open mouth where he saw the pink MDMA tablet sitting on the tip of Sam’s tongue. Bond smiled before plunging forward and sweeping his own tongue into the younger man’s mouth. Bond’s tongue deftly captured the tablet and pulled it back into his own mouth. Swallowing it as he continued to ravage Sam’s lips.It would be at least twenty minutes before the full effect of the drug took hold. Bond leaned forward and buried his face in Sam’s hair.“Where are you sleeping tonight?”“I have a hotel down the street. We can be there in ten minutes.”“Let’s go,” Bond growled as he bit down on Sam’s throat.&&&&&The view out the bedroom windows was of the river and southeast. The Shard could be seen as well as the Eye. It was a nice hotel. Not as flashy as the Savoy or Clarridges but still above average for the businessman on an expense account. The suite was probably eight or nine hundred pounds a night. Not outlandish for London during the holidays.By the time they reached the room, the MDMA was taking effect. Bond could feel the heightened euphoria. He ignored the way his vision got fuzzy at the edges as he concentrated on taking Sam’s clothes off.Sam was naked and pressed up against the glass. Bond was behind him, naked too. Bond’s hands were mapping out the features of the younger man’s torso. Familiar to him from a past encounter in Rome. The same smooth muscular arms and the very narrow waist. The dark curls and needed to have his fingers drag through and the scar from a gunshot wound.“Com’on Bond let’s not be shy now,” Sam purred. “You know what to do.” He pressed his backside into Bond’s groin in hopes of speeding up the event.“Yeah, I know, but windows aren’t my idea of stimulating,” Bond hummed as his teeth dragged across Sam’s shoulder.“I love getting fucked in front of one,” Sam said. His eyes closed as he enjoyed the power and strength of the man behind him.“Ever hear of snipers. We are pretty exposed here,” Bond said.“We are exposed regardless. And why would anyone want to shoot us?” Sam teased, knowing that both of them were on several lists as high value targets.“Get on the bed and I’ll give you a perfect rodgering, otherwise, I’m going to sit back on the other side of the room and watch you stratify yourself.”“Bassstard,” Sam hissed as Bond bit down on his shoulder. Rewarding Bond with a full body shiver as Sam fell into him.“On the bed,” Bond growled as he stepped back. His internal alpha howling as he watched how just a few well-placed bites and strokes left the cool and skillful triggerman fumbling towards the bed.Sam laid down and rolled over on his back. He looked up as Bond kneeled on the edge of the bed and leaned over him. Bond’s hands lightly dragging down the smooth skin. Over dusky nipples and a taut muscle.Sam Young was not the person Bond wanted in the bed with him that night. But Sam was close enough in appearance to help Bond believe it was someone else. Someone with dark hair and narrow hips.Bond wondered if Q was as fit under his clothing as Sam was. Would he have the same smooth skin? Would he be hiding a scar like Sam did? A scar caused by a pistol.Suddenly, Bond wanted to ask Sam to shave his beard. He wanted the smooth skin of Q’s face to kiss. He wanted the shorter hair of his Quartermaster’s. Still dark and curly but not as long. Not as unkept.Bond wanted to hear Q moan his name as he stroked up and down Q’s body. To ravage the young man before burying himself inside his body.“Roll over – onto your side.” The words rumbled out of Bond. Sam purred as twisted his shoulders and his body followed him. Bond’s hand smoothed across the curves and dips of the lithe frame.Sam the strength and flexibility. The fluidity of a cat. Sleek and beautiful. Bond could feel his pulse rate increase the more he touched Sam. The more he memorized the man’s body. He laid down behind Sam and returned to kissing along the man’s shoulder. Nipping and dragging his teeth across vertebrae.‘Does Q taste like this?’ He asked himself. ‘No, no, Sam tastes of cigarettes and nightclubs. Q – Q would taste of gun oil and tea.’Bond growled loudly before he bit down hard on the point of Sam’s shoulder.“Basstard,” Sam hissed but he melted back into Bond’s body. “Get to it, Bond. I don’t have all night.”“Shame,” Bond purred. “I was planning on keeping you here all night and most of tomorrow.”

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Helen Webb hated attending receptions like this one, but it was her job.It was set in the GOGGS – the Governmental Offices Greater George Street. Formally known as Whitehall. It was a staged affair to pave the way for Prime Minister Eaves to bow out of office, if not graciously, quickly. Numerous members of Parliament were there as well as every member of Eaves cabinet. Everyone fighting discreetly for positions after Eaves departure. And his departure would be soon. Probably before the end of the month. Even though the CIA had not released the video recording of the Chinese ambassador’s murder, it was well known the Eaves had participated in the coverup and jeopardized both the security of the United States and England. His time in Downing Street was over.Helen sipped her glass of red wine as she carefully examined everyone in the room. Hamilton, the Deputy Prime Minister, thought he should be the next Prime Minister but too many within the Conservative party thought he was too close to Eaves. Margret Albert, Chancellor of the Exchequer was working to build her support to challenge Hamilton. Then there was Wallace. Wallace Webb, Helen’s husband. Minister of Defense Matters, and the only member of the Cabinet associated with Ambassador’s murder who came out of it unscathed.Helen watched as various members of government circled around Wallace like satellites. Before Eaves’ downfall, Wallace was considered a minor member in Eaves’ government but now he was the person that garnered the everyone’s attention. He wasn’t having to go to see people anymore, they were making the trips to see him.Helen tipped her head slightly to the side as she watched the parade of politicians ingratiate themselves with Wallace. Listening to each person for a brief few moments as they toadied before Wallace then pushed aside as another politician took their place. Wallace, always a humble man, was somewhat bemused by them.  She wondered for a moment how she would like to be married to the Prime Minister of the UK. A simple smile traced across her face for a moment. How far had she come from a coconspirator to murder to the wife of the most important man in England.Mrs. Reed, her handler for the Black Doves, would be over the moon. Helen could almost imagine the cold-hearted bitch’s smiling face at the possibilities.The waiter passed by, and Helen deposited her empty wine glass on the tray. She took a fresh glass of wine and turned to scan the opposite side of the room. She saw the two men entering. Both of them immaculately dressed in suits. Both with an air of danger.Helen knew practically everyone in the upper echelons of the Conservative Party. She knew the major players in Liberal Democratic Party, the Labor Party, and the Green Party, but she didn’t know who these two men were. Normally she wouldn’t have been more than mildly interested in them, but one of them she recognized. The one with startlingly blue eyes was the man who Sam warned her of at the nightclub. The older of the two men quickly scanned the room until he saw Wallace. He immediately moved across the room and interrupted Wallace’s talking to the Foreign Secretary. Helen watched as the four men had a quick and intense conversation. Wallace glanced over at her and frowned.A sliver of ice slipped down her spine. The blond from the other night glanced over at her. She could see the recognition in his eyes. He remembered her. For a brief moment, Helen thought her cover had been blown. Wallace knew. Knew she was a spy. Had been since their first night together.Her heart began to beat faster as she considered her options. ‘The front exit to the street would be blocked by police. Rear exit was viable but difficult to get to.’ Her eyes fixed on her husband as he and the other three men walked briskly across the room towards her. ‘The children – I need to get to the children and get them out of London.’ She thought to herself.“Darling, I have some bad news,” Wallace said. He bowed his head slightly. “There’s an issue.”Helen crossed her arm over her chest – the hand holding the wine glass was positioned carefully where she could throw it if she had to. She lowered her other arm to her side. Slipping her hand behind her back. Her fingers closing into a fist.“Oh?” Years of practice gave the right amount of concern in her voice.“Gentlemen, this is my wife, Helen,” Wallace turned back to the other three men. “Garth Mallory from MI6 and . . .” He waved his hand towards the blonde.“Bond, James Bond.” The blonde said calmly. He held his hand out. Helen glanced at it, she brought her hand forward and shook his hand. He let her hand drop. Helen lowered her hand to her side and balled it into a fist again.“Yes, yes, Bond and David you know,” Wallace continued unaware of his wife’s defensive stance.“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked as she considered who she would throw the wine glass at and who she would punch first.“Nothing to worry about but I won’t be able to go to dinner tonight with you and the Brady’s.”“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll make the apologies,” she said as she slowly relaxed her fingers. “Is there anything I should say . . . or not say?”He leaned over and kissed her temple. “No, darling. You know what to say. You do every time.” He turned away then turned back. “Oh, damn it, I have to take the driver. Can you take a taxi?”Bond stepped forward. “I would be happy to escort Mrs. Webb home, sir.”“That’s very descent of you,” Wallace said as Helen tried to discourage him. “No need, I’ll be fine.”“No, I insist,” Bond said as he turned to her. “We can’t let the future Prime Minister’s wife be kidnapped off the street.”Helen blinked her eyes rapidly as Wallace coughed slightly to cover up his embarrassment.“No one has offered me the job yet,” he said.“But it is obvious that you are the best candidate,” Bond said.Helen noticed Mallory glaring at Bond as well as the David Lammy looking quite uncomfortable by the conversation.“Bond, your timing as ever is appalling.” Mallory snorted. Bond simply smiled.“It is only logical for Mrs. Webb to have a proper bodyguard to take her home,” Bond said.“Proper bodyguard?” Mallory questioned. “And you are a proper bodyguard?”“I’m the best at the moment. Do not worry, Secretary Webb. I will deliver her safely to home then join the three of you at MI6 later.” Bond reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys.Wallace looked confused for a moment, thinking he had missed something in the conversation. Then he leaned over and kissed his wife again.“Alright, let me know when you are home safely, and I will call you when we are done. Don’t expect me until late, love.”Helen frowned but knew there was very little she could do about it. She watched as her husband, Mallory and Lammy quickly leave the reception. Their departure noticed by everyone present.Helen and Bond watched as the men disappeared through the door. Several guests then turned to watch Bond and Helen. She knew it. She could feel their gazes. She didn’t turn to Bond but spoke quietly.“I don’t need a bodyguard.”“I think you do,” he said.“And being a man, you know best?” Her voice was sharp and critical.“No, because I know the type of people you spend time within nightclubs.”She turned and looked at him. “Are you making an accusation, Mr. Bond?”“I know Sam Young,” he said.“So do I. And so does my husband. We had him over for Christmas Dinner.”Bond smiled condescendingly at her. She didn’t return a smile.“Mr. Bond why are you here?” she asked.“There was a viable threat of a terrorist attack. I was at Vauxhall when it came in. Mallory is not allowed to leave the building except under guard. His normal bodyguard had taken sick, and I volunteered to accompany him here.” It was a lie. He just tagged along to irritate Mallory. “If Garth Mallory is to be kept under constant guard, shouldn’t you have gone back with him?” she asked.He smiled again. “You caught me. Mallory said he was coming over here to speak to Wallace Webb and I was hoping to run into you.” He took her wine glass from her hand and sipped it. “I have a better vintage at my flat.”She finally smiled. This sounded like a game she was familiar with. “No thank you. I’m more than happy with the one I have.” She took the wine back. “Did you tell Mallory about seeing me with Sam? It was completely innocent. We are old friends.”“And what did your old friend tell you he does for a living?” Bond asked.The razor of ice skidded down Helen again. “Insurance.” She kept to Sam’s cover story.“When I met him in Rome, he was working as something else,” Bond said. “I wouldn’t know. He disappeared for several years from me. We only corresponded occasionally.” Helen knew she needed to get away from this man. She needed to warn Sam. Get Reed to help Sam flee again.Bond could see the conflict going on behind Helen’s eyes. He could see her need to get to Sam. To warn him. Help him.He shifted his stance and leaned closer to her. “I like Sam. I like him very much. We share similar interests.”“Oh?”“I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to him.”She hesitated then said, “Neither would I. Sam is my friend. My best friend. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him.”“I can appreciate that. It is rare to have a friend like that. And I’m sure he feels the same way.”Helen quickly glanced around the room. She felt like she was being tested. She just didn’t know by who.“Are you interrogating me, Mister Bond,” she asked abruptly.“I would never presume.”“Are you?” she pressed.He leaned back. “I repeat, I like Sam. He’s a . . . good friend to both of us. But it would be better for both of you to keep your friendship secret.”“I already said my husband knows about Sam. You can’t try and blackmail me, Mister Bond.”“That is not my intention, Mrs. Webb. I just don’t think it would be wise for Sam to be too close to you given the amount of press coverage you will be receiving in the near future. It would draw too much light on people around you. And people like Sam and myself need to be kept in the dark.”Helen tipped her shoulders back. She took a moment to interpret what he was eluding. She wondered how much did Bond really know about Sam. About herself? Did Reed send him? Was this some kind of trap set by MI6?“I really don’t know what you are talking about,” she said as she shook her head. “But I think I would prefer to take that taxi by myself, Mr. Bond.”She knew she needed to get away from Bond now. She needed to warn Sam. Something had happened. They had made a mistake somewhere. Was it at the nightclub? They weren’t even there together. She had come with some friends for a hen party and seen Sam there. It was nothing. It really had been innocent. But what was this man implying to her now?The waiter came by and Helen placed her wine glass on his tray.“Goodbye Mr. Bond. I think you need to get to Vauxhall right away. I’m sure you think you have something to tell them, but I assure you, you are wrong.”“Mrs. Webb.” He held out his hand to her. She looked down at it but refused to take it.Helen quickly turned and left the room as Bond watched her leave. He immediately replayed the conversation in his head and added all the subtle inferences she had made. The twitch of the muscles in her face. The movement of her eyes around the room. The sound of her voice. She knew who Sam Young was. She knew what he did for a living. She may have even been involved with him.Bond needed to track Sam down. And this time not let his libido get in his way.

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‘Isn’t it always the way,’ Sam Young thought to himself.He had woken up in his hotel room after a wonderful night of being completely and gorgeously fucked by James to see the text message on his phone.
‘I want to try again. But you need to be honest with me. Help me understand’. M.
Michael was reaching out to him. Michael was wanting to see him. To possibly get back together again. Sam’s heart was racing.He sat at the corner table in Michael’s local. His foot was tapping wildly on the floor as he nervously waited. He mobile pinged with a text message and his heart stopped beating. He thought Michael was canceling. What was he going to do? How was he going to convince Michael to speak to him.To his relief it was a text from Helen.
‘What have you told James Bond? Is he a threat?’
Sam stared at the message for several seconds trying to remember when he had told James about Helen. When had told Helen about Bond. When had he mentioned that Bond was the first man he bedded after fleeing London seven years ago. After his world had imploded.He pressed the number and held the mobile up to his ear. He stared forward, preparing himself for unwelcome news. Helen answered on the first ring.“Who is he?”“A friend,” Sam said.“A friend? He’s bloody MI6!” Helen snarled down the line.“I know, I know. We met in Rome.” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t going to go well.“What do you mean you met him? He knows things. Things about you and probably about me.”Sam could hear the tension and fear in Helen’s voice.“I never mentioned you. He doesn’t know your name,” Sam said trying to reassure her.“He bloody well knows it now. He came to the reception today.”Sam looked up. His eyes wide and frightened. “Did he threaten you?”“Not exactly. But he said he collaborated with you. What does that mean?” Helen asked.“We did a job together in Rome.”“A job? What kind of job?”Sam pressed his lips together and frowned. “It wasn’t offering personal tours of the Vatican. What do you think?”“The two of you killed someone?” she asked in a whispered voice.“Five someones. It was complicated.” He shrugged it off. “What did he say . . . at the reception?”“He said he saw the two of us together at the club. He said he was your friend.”Sam bobbed his head side to side. “After a fashion – yes you could call us friends.”“After a fashion?” she repeated. “He also warned me off you. Told me it would be better if I kept you a secret or even better if I never saw you again.”Sam had to admit to himself, he had thought the same thing about the two of them. Helen was going to be in the spotlight now. More than likely, her husband would be the next Prime Minister or at the very least one of the more prominent members of the new government. She couldn’t be seen with a man who worked for a local crime syndicate. Let alone been responsible for over twenty-seven murders.“Did he threaten you?” Sam asked.“No, not exactly but I got the strong impression I was being questioned. And that MI6 knew something was up. That maybe my background was questionable.”Sam shifted in his seat. “Do you need to get out? Do you need me to call Reed?”Helen paused for a moment then said. “No, Wallace didn’t say anything when he got home. He isn’t behaving differently towards me and he really isn’t that good of an actor to fake it.”The two were quiet for a moment on the phone. Then Helen asked again. “Is he really a friend? Are you involved with someone from MI6?”“Not really involved with,” Sam stressed each word.“Then what is it?”“I picked him up at the club and took him back to my hotel room,” Sam said.“You fucked a spy? A member of MI6?” Helen asked in disbelief.“Not only a spy, luv’, but a Double ‘O’ agent. Their absolute best. And I assure he does his absolute best.” Again he stressed certain words get double entendre across to her.Helen gasped a little as she understood. “Can you walk?”“With difficulty,” he said. “And now I’m waiting for Michael who texted me to said he wanted to meet with me.”“Sam, what are you thinking?”“Obviously luv’, I’m not thinking, or I wouldn’t be here waiting for the man who I can’t ever stop loving after being completely rodgered by another the night before,” Sam’s voice cracked slightly.“Sam, what can I do?” she asked.“Nothing dear, nothing. I just need to be honest with him. And with myself.”“And what about Bond?” she asked.“I’ll handle it. He won’t be bothering you again,” Sam promised.“You aren’t going to kill him are you?”“Are you kidding? Have you seen that man’s arse. Never. I’ll just . . . talk to him. Warn him off. It will be okay. I’ll handle it.” He tried to sound reassuring.“Call me and let me know,” she said, then added, “about both of them. I want to know you are all right. I love you.”“I love you too, darling,” Sam said as he disconnected the call.He looked down at his phone for a moment. He wondered if he should call the number Bond had left him. He knew that Bond had seen Helen with him at the club but Bond never asked who she was. He never mentioned her at all.Sam like Bond. He really like what Bond did for him. To him. He would hate having to kill him for Helen’s sake.Sam met Bond a year after he had fled London and his life with Michael. Reed had arranged a place for him in Rome and he made no attempt to leave the Lazio region. Then he received a message from Reed. An MI6 agent would be coming to Rome and Sam was supply local support and intel.From the moment he met James Bond, Sam was intrigued by him. Bond was arrogance and swagger but also intelligence and perception. After the two of them had survived a trap set for them by terrorists they had fallen into bed together. Bond was strong and forceful but in bed he was also attentive and mindful. Making sure that Sam was pleasured as much as himself. After two weeks, they had killed three Iranians and two Serbians. They saved the billionaire’s daughter from kidnappers and closed a conduit of human traffickers. For the first time since Sam had picked up a gun, he felt good about himself. About what he was doing. If only for a little while. Then it was over. Bond left with the girl and Sam was left in Rome by himself with his regrets.He didn’t want to think Bond would turn out to be one of the regrets he would have to carry too. He liked Bond. Bond had been good to him. But Helen was his friend. Helen had been there for him when there was no one else. She killed a man when she was seven months pregnant for Sam. Helen would always come first for him. Bond he liked but Helen he loved.  He looked down at his phone again trying to decide what to do when he heard someone softly say his name.Sam looked up and there they were. The soft brown eyes that he always thought about. The brown eyes that made his stomach flutter. That came to him in his dreams. The ones he only wanted to see.Michael.“You came,” Sam said quietly.“I asked you. Of course I would be here,” Michael gave a weak smile then sat down opposite Sam.“Thank you.” Sam closed his eyes to force the tears back as he nodded his head. He needed to compose himself. He needed to convince Michael to take him back and blubbering all off the table in the pub was not the way to do so. “Thank you . . . for texting me. For meeting me.”He opened his eyes and looked back into Michael’s open and innocent face. Michael looked back at Sam, studying his face. Trying to decide if anything had changed in his features. Was there some sign or indication that Sam was not the man he loved.Sam couldn’t stand the silence between them anymore. “I’m sorry . . . I mean I’m sorry for bring you into this.”“I was in whether I knew it or not because I was with you,” Michael said.Sam nodded his head again. “I never wanted you to be hurt. I never wanted that. Or for you to be . . . scared . . . of me . . . or anything.”Michael reached across the table to took Sam’s hand. “Then explain it to me. Help me understand.”Sam looked down at their joined hands. Michael’s hands were always warmer than his. They always felt like a balm whenever Michael touched him. Sam missed that touch so much. He gripped Michael’s hand tighter.“It started when I was younger. Before I even met you. My father . . .” Sam’s voice broke. He coughed and took a sip of his drink. “My father wasn’t the best. I didn’t have much in the way of an education or anything else. I just started working for people who needed things done. Driving people around. Delivering things. Just stuff.”“Just stuff doesn’t include killing,” Michael whispered.“No, no . . .” Sam blinked again. He wanted to explain himself but he couldn’t find the words that wouldn’t push Michael away further. “I was supposed to protect certain people. Make sure they were safe and sometime . . . sometimes that meant using . . .” He glanced around to make sure no one was listening to them. “Using a gun. I was good. Very good. And then someone came to me and asked me to only do that.”“Kill someone.”“Never anyone innocent. I promise,” Sam said quickly.“You promised it would be over after you did one more job. You said you would quit and there wouldn’t be any reason to fear. Then I wake up and there is a scary man in living room talking to you. You had a gun. He had a gun. My daughter was sleeping not twenty feet away from you two.”“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. Not you or your daughter. I promise.” Sam squeezed Michael’s hand.Michael stared at Sam, then he reached up with his other hand and grabbed hold of Sam’s hand.“I thought you were dead. When those men broke into our flat – I thought they killed you. The last memory I had of you was blood on your face. Your blood on my hands. I thought I had lost you forever and then I realized I didn’t even have you to begin with. The man I love wasn’t real.”“I’m real, Michael. I’m here. I will do anything you ask of me. Anything.”Even as the words left his mouth, Sam knew he couldn’t do what Michael was going to ask of him. He knew he was lying.  “Tell me you are done. Tell me it is safe,” Michael pleaded. “I still love you, Sam. I still want to be together.”Sam’s heart jumped in his chest. “Yes!” he almost shouted.Micheal smiled. A small tear slipped from his eye and ran down his dark cheek.“We will have to start over again. I will need to learn who the real you is.”“Anything. Just give us a chance,” Sam said. He couldn’t hold the tears back any longer and they streaked down his face. If only it could be true. If only he could find a way out.Micheal’s smile broadened.“Come to dinner. Meet my daughter . . .”Sam’s phone buzzed. He glanced down and saw Hector’s name on the caller ID. Sam declined the call. Michael looked down at the phone.“Is that important?”“No,” Sam said.The phone buzzed again. Sam hesitated but declined the call again. It buzzed a third time before Sam could say anything.“Yes, I’m here,” he said as he answered it.“Don’t you ever refuse my calls again,” Hector snared at him.“I’m busy,” Sam said.“There’s a man you need to deal with,” Hector said ignoring Sam’s comment.“I’m busy.”“He is trying to poach my new contact. I want him gone.”Michael pulled his hand away from Sam’s. He leaned back in his chair. “I can’t help you,” Sam said as he looked up at Michael.“Look! You don’t get a choice. You work for me now. I’ll send you the information. I want it dealt with tonight.” The call was cut off.Sam slowly put the phone down. He was afraid to look at Michael.“Please . . .” he whispered.“I love you, Sam,” Michael said softly. Sam looked up at him. There was a sad smile of his face. “I love you but I love my daughter more.”Michael pushed his chair back and stood. He stared at Sam for a moment but Sam didn’t know what to say. Anything he did to try and appease Michael would automatically sound false. So he fell to the truth.“I never stopped thinking about you,” Sam said quietly. “I love you.”Michael turned and left. Sam sat alone at the table as he phone pinged with another text message from Hector.

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Bond was having a difficult time.He wasn’t still under the influence of the drugs from the previous night, but they had affected his self-control. That lack of self-control was probably the reason he had stupidly confronted Helen Webb. He would be lucky if she didn’t file a complaint with Mallory about him. And that lack of restraint was causing his problem now.When he returned to Vauxhall, he was immediately pulled into a meeting with Mallory, Webb, Tanner, and Q. The meeting was about a possible connection between criminal elements within England, and Spanish and North African drug cartels. Mallory was droning on about possible players while Bond’s mind was wandering back to the previous night in a hotel room.Flashes and images played across his mind’s eye. The images of Sam laying on the bed as Bond played with him. The sounds the man made that only increased Bond’s lust. It all jumbled together into an intoxicating fantasy.He shifted in his chair again and tried to cross his legs. He gave a subtle grunt. Again, he bemoaned his lack of discipline. Of all times to lose his will power to restraint his libido. He’s exquisite bespoke suits couldn’t conceal the stiffy he was suffering from. Memories of the previous night with Sam came roaring forward. The exquisite feel of the man wrapped around him. Sam’s whispered moans seem to drown out the conversations around. It didn’t help that Q sat down beside him. In fact, it was Q’s fault to begin with.Q had chosen to take the seat next to Bond. Bond could easily see the younger man in his peripheral vision. And the similarities between Sam and Q made Bond’s mind wander. His thoughts took him back to Sam’s hotel room. The smell of sex and sounds of pleasure. But this time, he imagined a clean-shaven man on the bed with ivory white skin. He imagined a man with a rounder face and shorter hair groaning underneath him.He could smell Q’s odd scent. A mixture of tea and gun oil. Bond’s mouth watered as his member twitched in his trousers again. Bond licked his lips as he imagined kissing Q’s dark red lips. Dragging his fingertips over the smooth skin. He growled softly, but not softly enough.“Do you have something to add, 007?” Mallory asked.Bond’s eyes flicked over the other. He realized he had lost the thread of the conversation as he stared wantonly at Q’s supple wrist. Bond imagined holding those wrists together over Q’s head as he ravaged the younger man’s neck.Bond shifted again in his chair. He gritted his teeth as his groin felt pinched. “Sir.”“Yes, what is it?” Mallory glared at him.Everyone in the room was looking at him. Even Q – with is suspicious expression. Somehow Q knew Bond’s mind was not on the meeting but somewhere else. Somewhere far more entertaining. Compelling.“I was just wondering why MI6 is engaging in a task that is obviously belonging to MI5,” Bond said as he tried to shift his hips to covertly give himself more room.Mallory frowned. “MI5 is undergoing an internal audit of its agents.”This was news to several people in the room.“Why? What happened?” Wallace Webb asked.Mallory turned and looked at him for several seconds. “This information is not to leave this room. It is known that the PM was aware of certain members of the Met who were working with the Clark crime syndicate. That he was, if not directly involved, aware of criminal activities that include fraud, coercion, and murder. Apparently, MI5 agents were also aware of the collusions and the PM’s involvement. And their failure to respond appropriately resulted in a shootout between members of the CIA and CCP on London streets. Nine people were killed.”“Oh, that’s troubling,” Q muttered under his voice. Bond glanced over at him at the same moment Q turned to him.“Did you know?” Q asked.“If I did, I wouldn’t have asked the question in the first place.”Mallory continued.“We have been ordered to take over this mission by the Foreign Secretary. Although it involves criminal activities within our British boarders, it also involves foreign assets. We have been tasked with discovering the amount of criminal activity and the players involved. Then arresting both foreign and domestic criminals as terrorists. The meeting between Juan Fernandez, a member of the Barcelona Cartel, is tonight. It was supposed to be with a member of the Clark syndicate, but we are sending you instead, Bond,” Mallory explained.“Does Fernandez know what the contact looks like?” asked Q.“No, but it doesn’t matter anyway. The Clarks have suffered a decapitation,” Tanner said. “They are presently involved in an internal fight for control. They are too busy killing each other off to start up a new drug supply chain. But the Barcelona Cartel wants to open up conduits for drugs into England, Scotland, and Wales. Fernandez is meeting with several different criminal groups while he is here.”Tanner handed over a file for Bond to look at.“How do we justify treating them as terrorists?” Webb asked.“They are foreign nationals engaged in activities to bring civil unrest in England. I admit it is a stretch, but it allows us to work on British soil while also limiting their legal rights here,” Mallory explained.“And the PM has okayed this?” Webb asked.Mallory and Tanner both stared at him. “Eaves has been removed from all lines of information because of the allegations of collusion. The Foreign Secretary recommend that we include you in these meetings, so you are aware if at a later date you are . . .” Tanner trailed off.Webb looked at them as the light shifted behind his eyes.“If at a later date, I am elected Prime Minister, and you need to have the leeway to operate within British boarders.”“Yes, sir,” Tanner answered.“And if I disagree with this plan?” Webb asked.“Then we will return to the Foreign Secretary and inform of your opinion. Then we will proceed without your consent. But it will be brought up when members of your party start to discuss possible candidates to replace Eaves,” Mallory said coldly.“Damned if I do and damned it I don’t,” Webb replied.“You may be damned, sir. But I will be out there with a drug dealer who is more than likely going to be carrying a gun,” Bond said.Webb turned and looked at the man. “Okay, point taken. What happens after the meeting?”“We get a man inside the gang. We learn what the Barcelona Cartel are offering and who is buying. Then we will trace them back through the shipments. It is an opportunity to stop several different criminal groups not only in England but also Scotland and Wales,” said Tanner.“Bond will have to go undercover with the drug dealers?” Q asked.Bond wondered if he heard a note of concern or was it just his wishful thinking.“Depending on how the meeting goes tonight, we will arrange for an agent to go undercover until the drugs are shipped to the country and we are able to follow them to their destinations. The meeting came up too quickly for us to establish a good background for any specific agent. Bond is good at thinking on his feet and is just going to the meeting. The final decision on who will be going undercover depends solely on what happens tonight,” said Tanner.Q glanced over at Bond then back to Mallory again. “You haven’t given us enough time to prep.” “All he’ll need is a gun and communication. If he is able to convince Fernandez he is part of a different criminal organization other than the Clarks, then we start putting together everything he will need for a longer mission,” Mallory said.“So the meeting is the lynchpin. If he bollocks that up, we lost our opportunity?” asked Webb.Bond smiled. “If I bollocks it up, Mr. Webb, I’ll be dead, and you will be looking for a new double ‘O’.”&&&&&The wind was cold. It seemed to be blowing right up the river and into the Victoria Docks. The air smelled sour. The tide was low, and the exposed tidal flats were littered with debris and garbage.Bond stood in the shadow of a doorway trying to stay out of the wind as best he could. It was two in the morning. He wore his wool peacoat and his black leather gloves, but the wind seemed to be cutting through them. He wore his heavy leather work boots and a pair of black jeans. The knit cap his wore was pulled down over his ears.He had arrived early to the meeting site to get a better feel for the area. He wasn’t sure who had chosen the docks, but it seemed to have come right out of a Guy Ritchie movie. He was waiting for the tweaking sidekick to arrive at any moment to add comic relief to an otherwise miserable night.Bond wrapped his arms around his chest again trying to hold heat inside his coat. His face was beginning to go numb.“Ten more minutes, Q, then I’m getting back into my warm car and going home to a tumbler of scotch.”“This might be our only chance to make contact with Fernandez. Our only chance to get inside one of the criminal gangs.” Bond could hear clicking over the radio receiver in his ear. Q must have been typing.“Why are drug dealers such drama queens?” Bond said softly. “We could have had this meeting in a nice pub with heating. Or a decent restaurant that served caviar.”“You are an elitist, 007,” Q said over the coms.“Aren’t you a fan of caviar?”“Seriously, 007.” There was sarcasm in his voice.  “No, I guess not. For God’s sake, don’t tell me you are a vegan!” Bond sounded offended.“Not in the least bit. I happen to enjoy the steak and ale pie at my local.” There was hope apparently, Bond thought.“Maybe one night you could . . .”“A black saloon just pulled into the lot. This might be it,” interrupted Q.Bond pulled himself back further into the doorway. His back pressed against the icy bricks. He heard a car door slam then footsteps approaching. The sound of hard sole shoes on the paving stones.“¿Dónde estás?”Bond stepped out of the shadows. “Aquí.”“Clark?” the man’s accent was pronounced but not difficult to understand.“Clarks are dead. My name is Richard Sterling. I’m taking over from them,” Bond said.“Dead? When?”“Recently, when I put a bullet in their heads.”The man looked at Bond for several seconds. “I need approval before I talk to someone new.”“Then get it, but know my money is as good as anyone else’s. And I have a lot of it.”The man stared at Bond then nodded. “Give me your number. I will call you when I have you checked out.”Bond reached into his pocket slowly and pulled out one of his fake business cards. A simple black card with the name of Richard Sterling and Universal Exports. He held it out to Fernandez.It was a whoosh sound. Soft and if you weren’t familiar with the sound, you wouldn’t have known what it was. Bond knew instantly. A suppressed gunshot. Blood and brain matter splattered across Bond’s face.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

‘I still love you, Sam. I still want us to be together.’
Michael’s words bounced around in Sam’s head. He tried to figure out a way to make it work. To get himself back to Michael. He needed Michael. Just like he needed air, he needed him.Sam shook his head. He had a job to do and it was imperative he concentrate on that and not on Michael. He looked down at his phone again. The photo was a Hispanic man with dark features and heavy-set build. The accompanying message was short. ‘Deal with the person who meets this person.’‘Deal with it.’ Short and simple. Kill whoever is with this man on the docks.Sam knew where the meeting was going to take place. He found a place where he could park his car and observe the area without being seen. As soon as Fernandez arrived, Sam would get out and carefully make his way over to the meeting. Then put a nine mm round through the other man’s head.He fought against his body’s need for warmth and didn’t turn the engine on. He had been sitting for over an hour and the heat inside the car had disappeared, leaving him shivering in the cold. Sam blew on his hands. He didn’t like wearing gloves. He preferred to have a firm grip on his gun and he didn’t like the sensation of  something between his palm and the grip.After an hour he saw someone get out of a taxi and seemingly walk aimlessly around the area. Sam watched the man as he circled around the buildings and across the open ground. As he came near Sam’s car, Sam ducked down and hid beneath the dash. After a few moments, Sam carefully lifted his head to see the man had walked on and taken a position near a doorway. And there the man stood for almost forty minutes in the freezing wind.Just when Sam was wanting to give up on the whole event, a black car slowly entered the lot. It stopped about forty feet inside the gate. Sam pulled his gun from inside his jacket and checked it. He released the magazine and verified it was properly loaded and ready to use. He slipped it back into the gun. He was ready.He looked up as the two men met. The streetlamp flicked above their heads and for the first time, Sam saw the face of his victim.“OH FUCK! BOND!”Suddenly, Fernandez slumped forwards. He crashed into Bond and fell to the ground. Bond jumped back into the shadows.Sam didn’t hesitate. He started his car and revved the engine. The tires squealed on the tarmac as he floored the accelerator. The car lurched out of its hiding spot and directly towards Bond.Bond looked up as a car without its headlamps on rushed towards him. He pulled out his Walther when the car skidded sideways and the passenger door flew open.“GET IN!” Sam shouted.“SAM?”“GET IN!”Bond leaped into the car and Sam drove off even before Bond closed the door.“007, report. What is happening? Who is Sam?” Bond heard Q’s voice in his ear. He ignored it. “Was that you?”“No,” Sam said as he finally turned on his headlamps and quickly turned onto a street outside the yard.“What are you doing here?” Bond asked.Sam didn’t answer as he quickly took another turn and went down an empty street. Just then a car pulled out of the carpark and nearly hit them. Sam slammed his foot down on the brakes. Bond rocked forward into the dash. He threw his hand out and caught themselves before he hit the windshield.“Shit!” Sam hissed.Sam looked up at the frightened expression of the other driver. The blonde woman’s eyes were wide and her mouth was in the shape of ‘O’. He could imagine her cursing. Then she smiled at him. She recognized Sam at the same moment he recognized her. Williams. He looked again and Eleanor was in the passenger seat.Sam threw the car into reverse and backed away rapidly. He pulled on the emergency brake and turned the wheel. The car spun around and within a split second, Sam and Bond were going in the opposite direction.“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Who was that?” Bond asked.“No one you want to meet. Trust me,” Sam said as he drove rapidly out of the area.They drove for several minutes before Bond asked again. “Did you shoot Fernandez?”“No,” Sam said. “But I think I know who did.” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel as he concentrated on driving.“Who then?” Bond asked. “And slow down unless you really want to draw the attention of the police.”Sam shook himself once then lessened the pressure on the accelerator. “Does it really matter now?”“Why were you there?” Bond asked again. Q was  still questioning him through the ear mic.“Why do you think. I was there – to kill you.”“Are you?” Bond asked as he twisted his body to get himself into a  more defensive position.“No.”‘007 do you need assistance? Should I have a field agent intercept you?’ Q’s sharp diction came over the ear mic.Bond surreptitiously reached up and tapped the ear mic twice for no. ‘Understood,’ said Q.“Who wants me dead and why?” Bond pressed.“Look, let me think of some place safe to go to first,” Sam said as he turned onto a major road.Bond glanced around and thought he knew where they were. “Go west. Knightsbridge.”“Where?”“Knightsbridge. My flat is there.”“Oo-la-la, aren’t we posh.” Tension still bled from Sam’s body.“Did I mention I was a Scottish Laird too?” Bond said off-handedly.Sam turned towards Bond then swerved the car briefly into the next lane. A car’s horn made Sam jerk the car back into his lane.“You’re joking,” he said glanced sideways at Bond.“I renounced the title years ago.”“Oh, God, I’m in a fucking movie!” Sam gasped. “What the fuck are you doing in dockland at two in the bloody morning!?”“Meeting a contact who had his brains blown out and all over me. Now take me to my flat for a change of clothes and stiff drink. And not in that order.”&&&&&Bond’s flat was the first floor of a townhouse off Wilton Cresent. Sam parked the car on opposite side of the park and together the two men walked across the park and in through the front door of the townhouse.Bond’s flat was definitely not what Sam was expecting. For a man who prided himself on his clothing and exquisite cars. His flat was rather bare. Just a single couch and matching chair. No pictures on the walls or rugs on the floor. There was a nice television set in the corner but there was also a significant layer of dust on it.“Been here long?” Sam asked as Bond went and poured himself a tumbler of scotch.“Four years,” Bond said. Sam looked surprised.“Really?”Bond held out a tumbler of alcohol for Sam. The younger man looked down at it, confused for a moment.“Do you have champaign?”“Not now, drink. You’re still shaking. You didn’t act this way in Rome when we killed those men. You’re not a very good triggerman if you get this upset at seeing a man shot.”“I’m not upset about seeing a man shot.” He took the tumbler and drank. It tasted smoky and sharp. There was a warmth as it slipped down his throat. He shivered then made a face. “Yuck.”“Just like Q.” Bond muttered as he swallowed his drink. He savored the taste as it washed away the aftertaste of the docks. “You were told to shoot me.”“Not exactly. I was told to shoot whoever was meeting with Fernandez,” Sam said as he sat down. He set his drink on the coffee table as he leaned forward on his elbows pressed to his knees.“Who?” Bond pressed.Sam’s mobile rang. Sam looked at the caller ID then sighed dramatically. He waved the phone at Bond as he sat up.“Guess who?” Sam said. He pressed the button and answered it. “What?”“A body was found on the dock. And not the body that should be there! You shot the wrong man!” Hector shouted down the line. Sam held the phone away from his ear while frowning. Bond heard every word.“I didn’t shoot the wrong man. Someone else shot Fernandez,” Sam said.“What do you mean someone else shot Fernandez?!” Hector shouted.Bond mouthed “Put it on speaker.”Sam did so.“Like I said. Someone else shot him. There was another triggerman there.”“Who?” Hector’s voice filled the flat.Sam glanced up at Bond. Then said, “I don’t know. I didn’t see them.”“Where is the man I sent you to kill?” Hector pressed.“In the boot of my car,” Sam said.“What? Why? Why didn’t you leave him there? I wanted people to know he was dead.”“Do you know who he was?” Sam asked as he stared up at Bond.“The Filth,” Hector said.Both Sam and Bond stared down at the phone.“You knew he was a cop and you sent me to shoot him!? Do you know the kind of shit they will rain down on us?!” Sam asked in disbelief that Hector could be that stupid.“It was one of Clark’s stoolies. They think they can set up their own game on my territory. Fuck them.” Hector sounded drunk. Sam had never heard the man drunk before. Something else was going on. Something in the background.“Look, it is better that I deal with him and they never know what happened. Old Bill might think they know but they can’t come after anyone unless they have proof. No body, no crime. Their hands are tied.” Sam looked at Bond and Bond nodded his head in agreement.In Bond’s ear he heard Q say, “Background check being run now on the original contact for tonight’s meeting. We will see if he his dirty.”It was becoming surreal for Bond. Hearing Q speak in his ear while Sam was sitting in front of him. His head was beginning to hurt.Sam was still arguing with Hector. “Trust me on this one. I know what I’m doing.”“You never had a problem before leaving bodies laying around. My three brothers were left right where you shot them,” Hector snarled.“And I left you alive. You need to know I know what I’m doing. Let me handle this. The police will think they know what happened but can’t do anything about it,” Sam said as calmly as he could.“Then tell me what you are going to do,” Hector ordered.Sam rolled his eyes. “Not on a mobile phone. You are the only one who has said anything that could be considered criminal and I won’t start.”Hector growled. Then he shouted, “BASTARD!”The line went dead.“Unable to do a trace,” Bond heard Q say quietly.“Thank you, Q” Bond said.Sam looked up and frowned.“Q? You said that name before,” Sam said.Bond shook his head. “It’s nothing.”“What do you mean it’s nothing. You said it the other night.”“I did not,” Bond said emphatically.“Look, regardless of how fantastic you are at giving a blow job, I remember when the man I’m with calls me Q.”Bond immediately heard Q speak in his ear. “Bond, don’t you dare disconnect this . . .”Bond pulled the ear mic from his ear and tossed it into the tumbler of scotch on the table. Sam looked down at it confused. He picked up the glass and carefully twisted it so he could get a better look at the small piece of MI6 equipment sinking to the bottom of the glass.“Has that been on the whole time?” Sam asked.“What if it has?” Bond asked.Sam pulled out his gun and pointed it directly at Bond. Instantly Bond pulled out his gun too. Both men started at each other. Completely emotionless in their expressions.“Well?” Bond asked.“Well, how much does MI6 know about me?” Sam asked. In his head he was calculating how quickly he could get to his car. Would he have enough time to make it back to Michael before he had to flee. Could he leave Michael again? Could he let Michael go after the door had been open for them to get back together again.“They know you helped me in Rome. They know that you saved my life tonight. They know that you are working against the orders of a criminal organization. How does that sound so far?” Bond asked.“Like I’m some kind of hero, but we know different,” Sam said.“Do we?” Bond slipped the safety back on his gun. He slowly lowered the weapon.Sam’s eyes followed Bond’s hand. He waited until Bond hand set the gun down on the table. Then Sam did the same thing. He engaged the safety and slipped the gun back in the pocket of his jacket.“That’s good because I really didn’t want to shoot you tonight,” Sam said.“Because of the fantastic blowjob?” Bond asked.The corner of Sam’s mouth curled. “Actually no. I have personal reasons that don’t include you. But don’t get me wrong. You have a talent there. And your arse is to die for.”“But not tonight.”“No, not tonight.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Bond washed the remainder of Fernandez off himself and then changed into a pair of sweats. He came out of the bedroom after he took the shower, rubbing his hair with a towel. He glanced around and saw Sam had left. He wasn’t surprised. Sam was never one to stick around for a long time.Glancing at his watch, he saw it was 3 am. He would be expected at Vauxhall around nine. That gave him about five hours of sleep. He decided it would be in his best interest to be rested before he had to face M and more importantly Q.By nine o’clock Q Branch was humming normally. Bond walked in through the doors and paused. His eyes scanned over the various faces looking for one particular but not seeing it. He glanced over at a young man he knew as TJ and saw the man nod his head towards Q’s office. Bond frowned when he saw the door was closed and the windows were shaded.Girding himself for the confrontation, he marched across the room and knocked briefly on the door. He actually waited this time for the voice to acknowledge the knock and invite him in.Q was sitting at his desk. His long fingers were tapping rapidly over his keyboard. He gave Bond a cursory glance then returned his attention to the computer screen.“007,” Q said tartly.“Q.” Bond sat down opposite his Quartermaster.Q continued typing while ignoring the agent for almost a whole minute. He finally decided he was satisfied with the amount of tension in the room and spoke.“Do you have any of your equipment to return?” Q asked as he turned and looked Bond fully in the face.Bond removed his Walther and set it down carefully on the desk. “Didn’t even get a nick in it.”There was a smirk on his face.Q reached across the desk and took the gun. He quickly unloaded it and then checked it to see that Bond was correct. He had returned it in excellent condition. Without showing any gratitude, Q looked up at Bond.“And what about your com link?”“Lost.”“Where?” Q asked coolly.“Bottom of a glass of scotch.”“How very unfortunate. That cost this department over three thousand pounds to manufacture. Not to mention the tens of thousands of pounds it took to develop it.”“Well it didn’t do the flavor of the scotch any good either.” Bond smiled.Q slammed his hand down on the desk. It was as loud as a gunshot. Bond remained still but hairs raised on his arms as his adrenaline started to spike. He could feel the tingle in his right hand wanting to grab the gun back.“Do not be cute with me, 007! I’ve been here since your mission last night. Do you know that I had the communication on open feed last night?” Q glared at the man.“I’m sure that is a mistake you won’t make again.” Bond maintained his indifferent smile. “How far did the grapevine take the information?”He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.“Eve has called me twice this morning, wanting details of our alleged affair. Tanner came in here at seven to go over the fraternization rules of MI6. Especially how it is not only unwise to engage in sexual encounters with co-workers but downright imbecilic to be sleeping with a specific Double ‘O’,” Q growled.“Is that all?” Bond asked.“Margo wanted to give me a high five,” Q said as he reached for his teacup.Bond snickered. Q glanced over at him and glared.“She is presently cleaning the bins in the automotive department. Afterwards, I thinks I might have her catalog every piece of equipment lost or destroyed by our agents for the last ten years.”“That should keep her busy,” Bond said smugly. He imagined the small tech trying to man-handle the bins that probably outweighed her by fifty pounds. “Any fall out from M.”“I think he is too shocked by the transcript to even acknowledge what was said,” Q sipped his tea then frowned at the cool liquid. He set the cup down and then looked back at Bond. “Tell me, is it true? Did you accidentally say my name in someone’s ear while you were . . . were . . .”“Actually I was giving him fellatio, so there wasn’t much talking on my part,” Bond explained.“I am familiar with the act, 007. What I’m asking is did you call one of your sexual partners by my code name?”Bond subtly rolled his head on his shoulders.  “If I knew your real name, I might have use it."Q’s eyes widened. He stared dumbfounded at the other man. Bond noticed a slight pinkness came to Q’s cheeks.“Is that really a surprise to you, Quartermaster?” Bond asked coyly.“Frankly, yes. I admit we have been known to say things to each other that might have been interpreted as . . . unprofessional.”“The term is flirting, Q. We have been dancing around each other ever since the National Gallery.”Bond noticed the blush deepen. He frowned and glanced away.“If that is unwelcomed, we could change our . . .”“NO,” Q interrupted. “I mean, no we don’t need to change or alter our . . . conversation. I actually find them . . . entertaining. If not occasionally frustrating.”Bond’s smile returned.“Are you saying that the flirting has been working?” Bond asked. His voice dipped slightly more seductively.Q  looked up through his lashes at him. Bond hadn’t realized how dark and thick those lashes were until now. The image of those jade green eyes looking up at him through those lashes at a more secluded moment came to him unbidden. His trousers seemed to get tighter.“I will be honest and say that I have been intrigued by you. I’ve listened to enough of your seductions to know what is genuine interest in a partner and what is not. And  being the focus of that interest is intoxicating,” Q admitted.“Intoxicating enough for me to bend you over this desk?” Bond asked.Q’s eyelids blinked rapidly. Bond was rewarded with a deep pink blush that colored not only Q’s face the even up to the tip of his ears.“Bond, do you need to refamiliarize yourself with the MI6 employee manual regarding interagency fraternization?”“No, I’m sure Tanner has a speech all prepared for me when I go upstairs to check in.”Q looked at him carefully. “You came here first?”“Of course.”“Why?” Q asked.Bond remained silent for a moment as he considered how to explain himself. He didn’t want to sound maudlin, but he also wanted Q to know he was sorry.“I realized I made a mistake. We flirt and we dance around each other, but I think of you . . . as more than a co-worker. I jeopardized you and that was not good. I wanted to make sure you were . . . all right.”“If we were alright?” Q asked.“Yes,” Bond admitted.Q sat very still for a moment as he considered what Bond had said. He weighted everything his knew about the man and what he knew about himself. Then he nodded his head.“We’re fine, Bond.”Bond seemed to melt slightly more into the chair as his body relaxed.“Good,” he hummed.Q’s attention returned to his computer screen. “It seems that M and Tanner are waiting for you upstairs. I’ve been summoned too. I suggest you leave first and I will follow in ten minutes. We don’t need to give too much more speculation to the grapevine about our alleged affair.”Bond smiled and rose from his chair. “Q.”“007,” Q responded without looking at the man.Bond crossed the room and just as he reached for the door handle, Q spoke.“And Bond.”Bond turned and looked at Q. Q’s attention was still fixed on the computer screen.“Remember, I’m actually your superior within the hierarchy of MI6. It will be you who will be bending over the furniture, not me.”A broad smirk came to Bond’s face and his bright blue eyes twinkled. “Of course, Quartermaster.”He opened the door and left.&&&&&Q arrived in Mallory’s office ten minutes behind Bond. Tanner, Bond, and M were all sitting down when Q walked in.“That explains it but still an inexcusable mistake, 007,” Mallory said.Q stepped forward and took the chair next to Bond.“What mistake?” asked Q.Mallory had been looking at a photograph when Q spoke. He held it out and Q reached for it.“Meet your doppelganger,” Mallory said.Q looked down at the photo of a man in his late thirties. He had dark wavy hair like Q’s but only longer. His bearded face was narrower than Q’s but the similarities were obvious.“I think if he shaved and put on a pair of glasses we would have a difficult time telling the two of you apart,” Tanner said.“My only excuse is exhaustion. In the heat of the moment, I let my mind wander and made the slip based on the similarity between the two men,” Bond said. It almost sounded sincere.Q blinked several times at the photo. The similarities were jarring. “He could be my brother if I had a brother. Who is he?”“His name is Sam Young,” Mallory said. “He was recommended to us six years ago as a contact for Bond in Rome. It was a difficult mission that we had little time to prepare for. A third party,” the way Mallory said ‘third party’ let everyone in the room know that the party was more than likely illicit. “A third party had recommended Young.”Q handed the photograph back to Mallory. Mallory took it and looked at it one more time before returning it to the file. Then he turned to Bond.“Did the two of you have an affair in Rome?” Mallory asked.Bond didn’t seemed fazed at all by the question. “Yes. During my mission.”“Have you seen him since Rome?” “No,” Bond said without a single tell.“You were surprised to see him there – at the meeting?” Mallory asked.“Yes.”Mallory stared at Bond. He felt something was off. That the agent had lied to him but Mallory had no proof. It would undermine his authority if he went around accusing his agents without proof.“Why was Young there on the docks at two in the morning?” Q asked.“Obviously, he had been sent to kill me,” Bond said as he returned Mallory’s stare. “Well, not me exactly. He was sent to kill whoever was meeting Fernandez. His employer didn’t even know who it would be other than law enforcement.”“So this ‘employer’,” Mallory used air quotes as he spoke. “He knew you were law enforcement and was willing to kill you?”“I had the feeling that the employer was rather indifferent to the consequences of killing a member of the Met, let alone someone from MI5,” Bond said.“Interesting,” Tanner said. “But who killed Fernandez and why?”“That is a good question,” Mallory said. “What was the benefit of killing him?”The four men sat quietly for several moments as each considered the reason for Fernandez’s murder.“Could it have been another drug dealer who didn’t want the new conduit?” asked Q.“According to sources, several different groups were backing this new conduit. Preventing it would have been more difficult than allowing it,” Tanner said.“Then it must have been something about Fernandez himself,” Q said.The men thought for a moment then Tanner turned to Bond.“Can you contact this Sam Young again?”Bond winced a little. “I think I might be able to track him down. I’m familiar with his – likes.”“Would he know why Fernandez was murdered?” Tanner asked.“He didn’t seem to know when this morning. But I think he knows who killed him. I could learn who killed Fernandez and track them down. Ask them.”“Then do it,” Mallory said. “Find Sam Young and learn the name of the assassin. Then find them and learn who hired them and why.”“To what end sir?” asked Q.“What do you mean?” asked Mallory.“This is still an MI5 jurisdiction problem. Not MI6. Can we justify going after these people?”Mallory leaned forward in his seat. “There are four dead Americans and five dead Red Chinese nationals. If we don’t go after whoever is involved, we could be setting ourselves us for a major problem with both our allies as well as our enemies.”“Yes sir,” Q said.“May I make a request,” Bond interrupted.Mallory scowled at him. “What?”“Let’s keep Webb out of the loop on this. He didn’t seem overly supportive of our involvement with Fernandez to start with. If he learns we are tracking down the man’s murderers, regardless of who they are, he could try and undercut our attempts,” Bond said.Tanner nodded  his head. “He was hesitant.”Mallory looked at the other three men then nodded in agreement. “All right, we proceed without informing Webb or the Foreign Secretary. But that means we absolutely must do this quietly and quickly. And be successful. Understood?”“Yes, understood.” The other men agreed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Sam Young didn’t go back to his hotel. As soon as he left Bond’s flat, he texted Williams.“We need to talk.”
“What about.”
Sam could hear her Irish accent as he read her text.
“You know what about.”

“Gone to bed. Talk later.”
Sam growled as he started the engine of his car.“Gordon’s at nine.”  Sam typed.“Ten.” Williams replied.Williams was a ‘orphan’ of the Belfast streets. She wasn’t a real orphan but she honestly didn’t know if her parents were still alive or not. She had run away from home when she was fifteen. She killed her first man when she was eighteen. Stabbed him for his wallet. Realizing it wasn’t that difficult to kill someone, she started perfecting her skills and found a new occupation. She was good. Surviving on her wits and instincts until she came to London and met Kent.Barbi Kent was  twenty years older than Williams. Kent took Williams under her wing after her previous partner had been killed. Kent taught Williams a more refined technique to fighting instead of just brawling and introduced her to better weapons.When Kent was killed, Williams immediately sought out an up-and-coming triggerman by the name of Elenor.William and Elenor walked into the Gordon’s café at half past ten. Sam was sitting at a table near the back with his face towards the door. He frowned when he saw the two women, pushing his plate away. His hand slid covertly under the edge of the table but both women caught the movement. They effortlessly slipped their guns from their waistbands and under the table as they sat down.“Don’t ya’ think if I want’d ya’ dead, ya’ would be now,” William leaned in towards him. She snagged a piece of toast off his plate and shoved it into her mouth.“Just being careful,” Sam said softly as he eyes glanced around to see if anyone was showing too much attention to the three of them.“So, who was the bloke last night?” Eleanor asked.Sam glanced over at her. “A friend.”“A friend or a boyfriend?” Eleanor asked. She wiggled her eyebrows at him.“Why? Are you interested in him?” Sam asked tipping his head slightly to the side.“Nah, just curious.”“A friend,” Sam said again. “And that is not either here or there. Why did you shoot the other man?”“Cuz, we were paid too,” Williams said. She reached for a slice of bacon but Sam pulled his plate out of her reach.“By whom?” Sam asked.“Can’t tell. Client confidentiality,” Williams said frowning.“Client confidentiality? Are you joking?” Sam sneered.“Why not?” Eleanor asked.“Because you aren’t bleed’n solicitors,” Sam snapped. “I need to know who paid you to shoot Fernandez.”“Why?” Eleanor pressed.“Because my friend needs to know.”“Your friend? The fit guy in car?” Eleanor said.Williams glanced at her. “He wasn’t fit.”“Looked fit to me,” Eleanor said.“Everyone looks fit to you,” Sam said.“You don’t,” Eleanor replied.Sam shook his head. “Enough, I need to know who hired you and why he wanted Fernandez dead.”“It was a rush job,” Williams said as she reached across the table and grabbed Sam’s plate. She pulled it closer as Sam watched her. She took the bacon and the last piece of toast.“A rush job?” Sam asked frowning at his lost breakfast.“Yeah, we only had about an hour to get set up and into position,” Eleanor said.This seemed odd to Sam. He had known about the meeting over twelve hours before it was going to take place. He knew Bond had been in place about an hour before Fernandez showed up. Whoever wanted Fernandez dead wasn’t aware of Bond being there. Or maybe they did and knew better than to shoot the MI6 agent.“I need the name of your sponsor. Who ordered the hit?” Sam said.“We don’t know,” Eleanor said. “Why don’t you ask your friend.”“Friend? Bond? Why would he know?”Eleanor nodded her head. “Bond, nice name.”Williams glared at Eleanor. Sam simply frowned.“You don’t want to play with him, Eleanor.”“Why? He looked like he would bat both ways.”“He does,” Sam said. “But he is also has more kills than the three of us combined.”Eleanor’s eyes widened, while William’s chin dropped and a partially chewed piece of bread fell out.“No shit,” Williams mouthed. “Who’d he work for? I’ve never heard of ‘im.”  “An enormously powerful woman who has since passed away, and now for her son but that doesn’t matter. What matters is Bond was standing there when Fernandez was shot. He is very upset about that and wants to have a talk to the killers. For your sake,  I need to know who hired you. I tell Bond and he doesn’t come looking for you.”“We’re not scared of ‘im,” Eleanor said. “We’re pretty tough shit too.”“Let’s put it this way, I watched him kill five men in Rome while wearing a tuxedo. He could shoot all three of us in Trafalgar Square at noon and no one would stop him or even blink twice at him. Bill would just pick up our bullet riddled bodies and ask him if he wanted a cup of tea.”“He’s that connected?” Willams asked.“He is that connected,” Sam reassured her.The two women looked at each other then glanced around the room. “It was an envelope. It arrived at my boat around midnight. There was a knock. We went out and found it sitting on the step. It had an address and a photo of the man.” Eleanor said she leaned in closer.“What about payment?” Sam asked.“There was a five one-hundred pound notes inside the envelope and a note saying there would be ten more if we got the job done.”“How were to contact him once the job was done?” Sam asked.“We weren’t,” Williams said. “The money was in an envelope this morning. Just like last night. Left on the step.”“Bloody great, then no way of knowing who it was.” Sam frowned.&&&&&Bond followed Q back down to Q Branch. Q looked sideways at the glances the two received as they traveled through Six. He wondered if there was anyone within the building who hadn’t heard about Bond’s intimate blunder. Q thought this could either give him the reputation of being a dangerous man or a complete fool if they actually believed he and Bond were shagging each other.The two men walked into Q Branch and  were immediately met by TJ.“Sir, we have an active trace on the phone used in Bond’s flat last night. He is presently at a café in Millwall.”“Very good,” Q said. “Keep with him and if at all possible let’s start using CCTV to visually track him. I want to know who he meets with and where he goes.” “Yes, guv,” TJ said as he hurried off like an excited puppy.“Keeping track of your double?” Bond asked quietly.“Making sure I have an alibi for anything else he is responsible for,”  Q said as he went to his office.The two men resumed their seats from their earlier meeting. Q immediately cued up his computer and started to read through his emails.“Tanner has sent a file on the man you replaced last night.” Q read the heading on the message he opened up. Bond stood and came over behind Q. He wrapped his arm over the back of Q’s chair and he leaned forward and read the report. His left palm spread flat on the desk as his head was conveniently close to Q’s.“Sheldon Palmer. Member of MI5 for three years. Previously, worked as an inspector in the Trident Command,” Bond read aloud.“Trident Command? That’s gang related crime, correct?” Q asked.“Yes,” Bond said. “Wonder why he moved over to Five. Inspector is a rather high position. He wouldn’t be involved in any undercover or dangerous operations at that point.”“Maybe that was the point. He missed the excitement. How well you like to stuck behind a desk in London after your years in the field?” Q asked.“I would hate it.”Bond turned and looked at Q directly. Q suddenly realized how close they really were. He could see how incredibly startling Bond’s blue eyes were this close. Hypnotic in their internal fire.Q licked his lips as he stared back at Bond. He could feel his stomach tighten as his internal voice pushed him to lean into the man and kiss him. The scene played out in Q’s mind in a matte of milli-seconds. He even wondered if Bond was thinking the same thing.“So there is nothing going on between the two of you, huh?” Eve Moneypenny’s voice cut through the fog in Q’s brain.Both men glanced over and saw the woman standing at the open door.“It is considered good etiquette to knock and be invited in before opening a door to a private office,” Q said as calmly as he could. His pulse rate was racing.“Ooo, my mistake.” She breezed into the room, tossing her curls as she did. “Tanner wanted to make sure that Bond saw the ballistic report on the Fernandez. The kill shot was from a rifle. Is that something your friend Young would use?”Bond stood up straight and reached for the report in Eve’s hand. “He is familiar with a rifle but I didn’t see one last night.”“Do you want to share with the class what you did see last night?” Eve smiled.“Cold wet docks and a man getting shot in the head.” Bond was unamused by her today.Q cleared his throat. “Is Tanner getting a full background check done on Palmer?”“The MI5 officer that Bond replaced last night? I think so. Nothing unusual has popped up yet about him,” Eve said as she shifted her attention from Bond to Q.“What about Fenandez? Anything new about him and his reasons for being here?” Bond asked.“No nothing yet.” Eve said.Q leaned back in his chair and tapped his finger on his lips as he considered the what they knew.“How the meeting arranged last night?” he asked.“What do you mean?” Bond asked.“Who arranged for Fernandez to meet with Palmer to begin with? Was it a sting operation? Was Palmer recruiting Fernandez? Why were they meeting?” Q asked.Bond and Eve looked back and forth at each other.“Wasn’t it to learn about the new conduit?” Eve asked.“We knew there was a new conduit because Fernandez represented it. We knew that various groups were going to use it. We were trying to figure out a way to embed Bond into those groups. That’s why we were there. Why was Palmer going to be there? He didn’t work for the Met anymore. And MI5 doesn’t engage in this type of operation usually. Why was he there?” Q asked.The three of them looked at each other. “That seems like a good question to ask Sheldon Palmer,” Bond said. “Can you get me a location on him and trace his movements?”“It would be rather problematic for MI6 to start tracking a member of MI5,” Q said.“But is it do-able?” Bond asked.“Of course.”“Then locate him and start to track him. I’ll let Tanner know what we are doing and get the necessary permission to proceed.” Bond started to move to the door.“And if we don’t get the necessary permission?” Q asked.Bond turned and smiled. “When has that stopped us in the past?”“I was afraid of that,” Q said.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Bond had poured himself a drink as soon as he got back to his flat. He sipped the scotch before retrieving his mobile from his pocket. Scrolling through the previous calls he found the number he was looking for. He pressed redial and waited.Sam Young picked up the call on the second ring.“Bond?” Sam’s clear diction came over the phone.“I need to see you?”“Why?”“Not to kill you,” Bond said.“Well, that’s reassuring. But why do you need to see me? Is this professional or personal?”Bond had enjoyed his ‘personal’/nonprofessional moments with Sam. Sam was an athletic and enthusiastic lover, but this wasn’t the time for that.“I need to talked to you about this morning,” Bond said. “What happened and who was involved. Don’t deny you know who the shooter was. I know you recognized those two women.”Sam took a deep breath and slowly released it. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.“What are you going to do to them?” he asked. He wouldn’t call Williams and Eleanor friends, but neither would he want to see them dead.“I just want to talk.”“Talk or interrogate?” Sam asked.“That will depend on them,” Bond said.“Look, I’ve already talked to them. They don’t know who hired them. They don’t know why they were hired.”“But they know something,” Bond pressed.“I don’t know what?”“I’m sure I can get more information out of them,” Bond said.“They are with me now. We’ve been going over this all day. If I bring them to your flat will you not  . . . be your normal self?”“My normal self?” Bond asked confused for a moment.“No guns, no shooting first and asking questions later and definitely no sexual innuendos.”Williams and Eleanor were sitting in the same room with Sam. They heard his side of the conversation. At the comment about sexual innuendos, they glanced at each other, eyes wide and surprised.“Let me talk to them and see. I promise not to shoot anyone as long as they don’t shoot at me first,” Bond continued.Sam was not reassured. “Half an hour, Bond. And no surprises,  please. My psyche can’t manage anymore.”“Half an hour,” Bond said as he disconnected the call.&&&&&Bond waited patiently for the bell to ring for the street door. He pressed the buzzer that allowed his visitor to enter the building. Bond’s flat was one flight up from the front door. He waited one minute before opening the door.Q stood on the top step looking slightly perturbed at the man. He was still dressed in the clothes from work. His messenger bag slung over his shoulder and his glasses slightly askew. In his hands was a brown paper sack that smelled wonderful.“Hello, Q,” Bond said trying to cover up his confusion. “I didn’t expect you – so soon.”Bond held out his hand to took the sack way from Q. The younger man moved towards the door and gave Bond a sideways glance.“Very poor security, 007. No CCTV on the door. Easily pickable three tumbler lock. No electronic locks at all.  You didn’t even check to see who I was over the intercom. I could have been an assassin sent here to kill you.” Q stepped into Bond’s flat and gave the room a once over with his gaze.“An assassin who brings . . .” Bond took a deep breath of the enticing smells from the sack. “Cassoulet and fresh bread.”“It is from my favor French restaurant. There is also some duck pâté and profiteroles.” Q slipped his messenger bag off his shoulder. “There is also a nice merlot in there.”Bond smiled seductively. “Sounds like you have plans for tonight.”Meanwhile in his head, he was calculating how soon Sam and the two women were arriving. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea for Sam to never meet Q. And he definitely wanted to keep Q away from hired killers.“I’m here to work. We need to determine if Palmer is involved in this or just collateral damage. And since I haven’t had a decent meal since your return from your last mission several days ago, I decided to treat myself. Call it positive reinforcement for having to spend time working with you,” Q said he deposited his things on the chair. “Do you have a corkscrew?”“In the kitchen drawer, left of the stove, but don’t you think that your presences in my flat this late at night would add fuel to the rumors we are in a clandestine relationship?” Bond asked wanting to gently get Q to leave before Sam arrived.“It is only eight o’clock, Bond. Hardly late. And as for further fuel, I don’t think that is possible. I found out there was a betting pool going on with Six regarding our relationship. So far, the odds are five to two that you will leave me within two months and move on to your next conquest. Two to one that I will sabotage your equipment on your next mission to blow up in your face on my command. And even money that you seduced me and not the other way around.” Q walked around the counter and into the small galley kitchen. He opened the drawer and found the corkscrew quickly. “Plates?” he asked as he turned back to Bond.“Cabinet over the drawer. You’ll find wine glasses in there too.”The bell for the street door rang again. Q glanced over at Bond. Bond shrugged.“You had other guests coming over tonight?” Q asked.“Not exactly. And truth be told, you aren’t exactly a guest. You invited yourself.”“I brought dinner.” Q glowered at him.Bond set the sack with the food down on the counter. He walked over to the intercom and pressed the button. “Hello?”“Bond, it’s us.”He shook his head. This was going to awkward. “Come up.” He pressed the second button on the intercom and the there was a buzzing sound.Q watched as Bond opened the door of his flat and waited at the top of the stairs. He could hear Bond talking to someone coming up from the street entrance.“Bond this is Williams and Eleanor. Ladies, James Bond.”Q had a suspicion he knew who he would see walk through the door.“Come in. There is someone you probably shouldn’t meet inside.”Q set the corkscrew down and glanced around. He saw a large knife in the drawer he had just opened. He took it out and set it behind the sack of food. Hoping it was out of eyeline of whomever was coming in.Three people walked into the flat followed by Bond. Q immediately recognized the man. He had the same dark curly hair that he had in the photograph Q had seen earlier that day.“Sam Young,” Q said softly.Sam looked over at Q and his eyes widened in surprise. “You must be Q,” he said.“Guilty.”Bond closed the door and stepped around the kitchen counter to stand beside Q. He saw the knife and sighed. He took it and put it back in the drawer while Q frowned at him. The two women stepped closer and looked at the two new men.“So, who are you?” Eleanor asked. “Sam’s brother?”“No,” Q said. “Any similarities in our appearance are just happenstance.”Eleanor tipped her head to the side, like a puppy trying to understand what their owner was trying to tell them.“You look like brothers,” she said.“Not brothers,” Sam said. “But it does explain a pervious incident completely.”“No, it doesn’t,” Q said as he turned and scowled at Bond.“What’s in the sack? It smell’s not half bad,” Williams opened the sack and peeked inside.“Dinner,” Q said.“Thanks,” Williams said as she pulled out the containers of food. She opened the largest one and looked at it. “What is it?”“Cassoulet,” Bond said.“What?” she asked.“Bangers and beans,” Sam said.“Yummy.” She grabbed the container and walked over to the couch. But instead of sitting on the furniture, she sat on the floor and used the coffee table as her dinner table.Bond shook his head and sneered. He opened a drawer and took out some folks and knives. He walked over and sat them down on the coffee table in front of Williams. Q watched astonished as his beloved cassoulet was hijacked by the woman.  “What’s this?” Eleanor asked as she looked at the container of duck pâté.Sam looked at it as he wrinkled his brow.“Pâté?” he asked Q.“Duck spam,” Q said.Eleanor tipped her head to the side as she shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever.”She went and sat on the floor next to Williams and started to eat the duck pâté with her fingers.Bond sat down on the couch opposite them as Sam and Q stared at the three of them.“So, he’s like what?  Your boyfriend?” Eleanor asked as she reached over and pinched a piece of garlic sausage out of the cassoulet.“Who? Q?” Bond asked. “No, actually he is one of my . . . bosses.”Bond glanced over and smirked at the younger man. Q rolled his eyes and moved to join the trio. Sam followed.“Boss, eh? And he brings you some fancy dinner like this? I bet he’s trying to get a leg over on you?” Eleanor revealed as she gave up on the duck pâté and moved on to the cassoulet.Bond could help the bark of laughter. While Q looked scandalized by the comment.“I do not go around seducing my agents,” he demanded.“Shame,” Bond muttered.“Yeah,” Eleanor said. “He looks like he’d be a hell’va shag.”“Thank you,” Bond said calmly. His smile turned predatorial as he gave Q a sideways glance.“That is not why I brought dinner over here,” Q kept arguing.Sam held out a glass of wine towards Q. “Here take this. It’s no use trying to explain things to them. They definitely see the world . . . differently.”Q took the glass and gulped half of it before he realized what he had done. Sam sat down in the chair as Q sat down beside Bond.“So, why are they here?” Q asked bluntly.Sam leaned forward and spoke before Bond could answer his quartermaster. “We need your help.”“Bond’s help?” Q asked.“Well, not exactly. Probably both of you.” Sam glanced over at the two women who were now transfixed watching the three men talk. Williams chewing her pilfered dinner and Eleanor shoving a whole profiterole into her mouth.Sam was not sure what Q knew and did not know. He would trust Bond to keep his secrets, but he couldn’t trust Q. He was an unknown variable. And unknown variables could be extremely dangerous for a triggerman.“We know who was hired to shoot Fernandez, but they don’t know who hired them,” Sam said keeping his attention fixed on Bond and not the man sitting next to him. Hoping Bond understood why Sam was being so non-specific.“That’s a little hard to believe,” Bond commented. He carefully nodded his head. He saw the relief in Sam’s eyes.“Just listen. This person found a request at their place of residence with five hundred pounds inside with a name and address. This person went there and saw their target and killed them. Then later that day a second envelope appeared where they lived with the remaining payment.” Sam’s eyes darted back and forth between Bond and Williams.“How much was the second payment?” Q asked.“Ano’nutter fiv’er,” Williams said around a mouthful of beans.Q glanced at Bond then back to the woman. “You killed Fernandez?”Sam slapped his hand to his forehead. He could feel a headache rapidly approaching. Why had he brought the two of them over to Bond’s flat. They were going to get not only themselves killed but probably him too.“Noo,” she said as she tried to look innocent.Eleanor elbowed her in the ribs. “Id’jet. Yeah, we did it. What of it? And it was a good shot if I do say so myself.”“Very good. Thank you for not hitting me,” Bond said.Eleanor smiled at him. Q ignored it and kept talking. “Why did you take a job without knowing who was hiring you?”“Well, no one actually asks for references around here. If someone leaves a ‘monkey’ on my boat, I’m not going to throw it overboard.”Q glanced at Bond. A confuse look on his face.“Five hundred pounds.”“Oh,” Q turned back to Eleanor. “You said boat – where is your boat moored?”“Why?” Eleanor asked.Q stood up. Both women reached behind their backs. Q frowned at them.  “Don’t be stupid. I’m going to get my laptop and hack into the CCTV near your boat and see if can find the person who left the money.”“You can do that?” Williams asked.“You’d be amazed what Q can do with a computer,” Bond said with certain amount of admiration in his voice. “There ain’t no cameras near my boat,” Eleanor said. “I docked it there because of that.”“You would be surprised what I have access to and what I can find,” Q said as he pulled his computer out of his messenger bag. He returned to the couch and sat cross-legged on the couch – his computer pinched between his knees.Eleanor gave him the location of her canal boat and Q went to work. Both women stared at the young man as his complete attention was focused on the computer screen. The only sound in the room was the clatter of the computer keyboard and Williams chewing her pilfered dinner. After ten minutes, Q twisted and turned the screen where Bond could see.“He appears on the dock ten minutes before they found the money – here.” Q points to only of several open images on the screen.“Hey, that’s my boat!” Eleanor nearly shouted.“Yes, it is,” Q said. He returned his attention back to the computer. “Then he hides over here for an hour. After they leave with the large black bag.”“That’s the gun,” William said, explaining the obvious.“Leave with the gun,” Q continued. “He returns to the boat and goes in.”“He was in my blood boat!” Eleanor leans up and tries to grab the computer. Q batted her hands away.“He leaves the boat after ten minutes and then they return two hours later.” Q taps a key on the computer and the images shift. “Then half an hour later he returns and leaves something on the deck.”“The second envelope with the money.” Eleanor frowned at Q. “How’d you do that?”“I’m very intelligent and have access to every security system within Great Britian and most systems within the EU.”The two women stared at Q for a moment, transfixed by him.“You a spy too?” Williams asked.“Too?” Q looked apprehensive.“Yeah, Sam’s other friend,” Eleanor said.“Other friend? Bond?” Q asked. He wondered how much the two women actually knew about Bond. If it were a security risk, they would have to be dealt with.“No, the other one. Sheila, dark hair,” Williams said. Sam jumped up from his chair.“Great eyes,” Eleanor said appreciatively.“Never mind her,” Sam said as he rushed to change the subject.Unfortunately, Bond knew exactly who they were talking about.“Helen Webb is a spy?” Bond asked.“Yeah, Helen,” Eleanor said as she bobbed her head.Bond turned and looked at Sam’s pleading face. “Please Bond, don’t go there. She’s my friend. They don’t know what they are talking about.”“Yeah, we do,” Williams interrupted.Sam turned to her and snapped. “Just shut up! Shut up and eat your bloody bangers and beans!”Q’s eyes flicked back and forth between the four other people. Suddenly, Bond grabbed Q by the elbow and hauled him up off the couch. Q barely had time to catch his computer before it fell from his lap. He dropped it on the couch.“Bond, what are you . . .” He hardly had gotten the words out of his mouth when he was dragged down the hallway and pushed into a darken room. Bond followed him and slammed the door closed.Eleanor, Sam, and Williams watched as the two men disappeared behind the door.“I told you he wanted to get a leg over,” Eleanor said.