So I went to watch Spectre with my brother just a few days ago, and this came out today while I was trying to do NaNoWriMo, because that's what Spectre does to you. This is the first time I'm writing for James Bond or 00Q, so I would really appreciate feedback!
Not beta'd, enjoy!


He had been working quietly on reassigning some equipment when the door opened. Wariness was the first emotion to register, because this was the graveyard shift – he volunteered for it, of course, but he was the only one, so it was quiet regardless – and nobody visited his workspace unless they truly needed something from him or if they were Tanner, Moneypenny or M (or 007), even when Q-branch was bustling with activity. Except for 00-agents. Those dropped by whenever was convenient for them: the main reason for even having a graveyard shift to start with.

The real surprise came when he realised who slipped in through the door.

"Bond, I thought you'd left us." He took care to ensure that nothing slipped, keeping his tone as level as if this was an everyday occurrence. He wasn't sure if 007 picked up on the surprise; can't say he'd be surprised, though – 00s are good at sniffing out weakness, and 007 had always been his.

"I have. I just need one more thing."

The thing was, Bond was not supposed to matter. He was 007, just another 00-agent that Q had to work with. Even if he was good at what he does, he was replaceable. What Q had done for that agent had already far surpassed what he was paid to do, even if he could still explain those off as doing what was best for Queen and Country by assisting an agent, an excellent one, on field.

There was no reason to fulfil this request, though. There was no crisis, and 007 – not 007, Bond, James Bond – was no longer an agent and should not even be here.

Even on a personal level, there was nothing to gain from this. It was simply goodbye, a last favour that would not be returned.

He still complied.

It hurts to watch him drive off with that blonde bombshell he knew for all of three days, so he did not watch; just turned around and hurried back into his workspace to bury himself in something that would take up his concentration.

He was under the belly of another car, making some modifications – he needed to make it up to 009 for the stolen one, after all – when his phone beeped. Crawling out from where he had been trying quite hard to get the little sack of detonators in place, he levered himself up and shoved his glasses up to get a look on the screen.

It was the alert informing him that his cats were going to go hungry because their bowls were empty. Looking at the date and time told him that it had been almost twelve hours since Bond, and more than seventy two hours since he last saw his cats.

Deciding to call it a day – was it still a day if it's been a little more than three? – he cleaned up a little, grabbing the cleaner change of clothes he had laid out over the back of his chair and changing out of the dirtied articles of clothing, before leaving.

Turing and Marple were more perceptive than they ought to be, both being surprisingly friendly this time when he entered the house. They left him alone, though, after he finished clearing up their litter and refilled both their water bowls and their food ones.

He barely noticed them go, staring at the food container with the wilting lettuce that is the entirety of the contents in his refrigerator, excluding the slab of butter and a bottle of mustard that was only still around because it's his least favourite condiment.

Somehow, the almost empty fridge managed to make him feel even worse than he was already feeling. It was bad enough that pretty much everything was giving up on him – his project, his cats, and now the bloody refrigerator and the food in it? (And Bond, too, but he doesn't belong to this list, does he, he wasn't Q's in the first place – right from the start, he had always been someone else's: Vesper's, M's, but never Q's. And, besides, Bond had only ever wanted him when it's convenient and it certainly wasn't now, so it doesn't count, does it?)

It was too fresh, though.

Slamming the fridge shut, he stumbled into his bedroom, flopping down without changing, except… the bed was large enough to fit three – enough for him and Bond and both of the cats with lots of space to spare. Not that Bond would ever know that, and it was really just wishful thinking on his part when he got this bed.

There's a reason he always kipped on the couch, or in the spare bedroom, Q remembered as he laid there in the bed that was too large too empty, a lie and an echo of a happier memory that was really only ever a figment of his imagination.

Because he loved torturing himself, a brief image of Bond and that blonde… Madeleine, was it? – it flitted into his head, an unwanted picture that he now could not get rid of as he suddenly found himself wishing that it was him, with Bond, but it would never be, not really.

So he shuts his eyes to try to forget that picture, because Bond was happy with her, and that was great. Bond deserved all the good things in life, after everything, and if she was the reason he was happy, then Q would bless their relationship, burying the part of him that had always hoped for him to be the cause for Bond's smile. Because, even if he wasn't a selfless person, no matter how selfish he was, he was not an idiot and he knew which battles to pick.

This was something he would never win.

He yields, because he understood, he truly did, and he wishes Bond all the best from the bottom of his broken heart, but in the end, he also knew that no matter how many years later, there will always be a part of him waiting for 007 – his 007 – to return.


There's so many feelings I have about Spectre, and none of them are entirely positive, mainly because I ship 00Q quite hard, I suppose, and I had been really happy when Madeleine made the choice to walk away. The ending ruined that quite a bit, because I would never believe Bond to be the type to just retire (and refuse to kill the man who laid claim to all the deaths in Bond's life) for one woman, let alone one he only knew for three days and one who had made it so clear that she doesn't like what he really is and didn't want him to change for her. 007 is for Q to me, and since that is not canon, this happened.

I'm on tumblr as iCarly1969 . tumblr . com if you wish to rant with me!