Hey. I'm alive. My new job just doesn't let me write while working. Also, I'm woefully behind on this project, and I've only just finished January.
Originally posted to tumblr 2016-01-02.
/ Day 1 (2016.01.01)
/1. Scot. the first person to cross the threshold of a house on New Year's Day.
/ 2. Scot. the first person met after starting out on the day of an important occasion.
/ 3. Scot. to enter (a house) first on New Year's Day
"You would be the first person to come to me today."
Bond narrowed his eyes at the back of his Quartermaster's head.
"What does that mean and how did you know I was here?"
Q very pointedly didn't turn around, just kept his back to Bond (dangerous, so very dangerous), typing with one hand and sipping tea with the other.
"Only that there's a word for what you just did, and the latter is something you'll have to figure out for yourself, Bond."
James stalked forward, careful to be ever-so-silent as he crept right up behind the younger man and breathed lightly on the back of his neck.
The puppy didn't start or shudder, but his eyes fluttered and Bond's trained eye caught a slight and momentary wobble of the knees.
It was always the neck with these types. The ones who so carefully hide their vulnerable nape with shaggy hair and high collars. Ooh, collars for the pup. Now wasn't that an idea?
"I doubt you're worthy," Q said suddenly, pulling James from his train of thought and prompting him to finally move out from behind his Quartermaster and stand at a much more proper place at the corner of the table, a respectable distance from the young man he'd just discovered was not as immune to him as he'd led James to believe he was.
"Of what?" he replied, fascinated by the way the dark blue eyes stayed fixated on the screen even as the single hand flew over the keys. James wasn't exactly a troglodyte, as much as his Quartermaster accused him of being such ("I see you insist on maintaining your reputation of being incapable of bringing back a weapon in one piece. Do you even know how to take care of them?" "Yes, I know how to take care of my equipment, Q, but the enemy certainly doesn't have the same regard for your toys that I do."), but typing one-handed was a skill he most certainly didn't have and really, neither did most of Q-branch.
"Collaring me."
For a moment, he thought he heard his innocent-looking Quartermaster wrong. Then those studious blue eyes flickered to him then back to their monitor, and a smirk pulled at the corner of pink lips.
Fuck.
FINIS
2016 10M WotD Master Post (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr , /10M-WotD-2016).
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