Author's Note: I'm not thrilled with how I wrote this, but thanks so much to Something Unpretty for sending me the prompt!
1.
004 is interested in programming.
Or at least that's her excuse.
It's not that Q is concerned, per se, but he's not unburdened either. Julian can handle himself, Q has no doubts about that, and if he chooses to spend his breaks teaching 004 how to make directories and run basic functions, then that's his prerogative.
But that doesn't stop Q from eyeing them over the brim of his mug, eyes narrowed, ears straining. Because regardless of whether 004 actually cares about programming, or if she's just so bored off mission that she can't find anything else to occupy herself, she is a manipulator. All Double-Os are; he's seen it enough in person and heard it over the airwaves to know. And he can't have his second-in-command being played, no matter what 004's ultimate intentions are.
He watches the two of them now - 004 sitting in Julian's desk chair, Julian bent over her shoulder to explain some error message that's just popped up in her terminal - and notes that 004 isn't watching the computer anymore. She's watching Julian, the curl of his lips around each word, the light rebounding off the dark skin of his cheekbones.
There's an intimacy to it that has Q looking away.
"Bond's looking for you," Moneypenny informs him, wandering into Q-Branch with a stack of paperwork.
Q retorts, distracted by what he's just witnessed, "Then he can come find me."
2.
Double-Os like a challenge.
This is common knowledge for all those who know of their existence. If Q is feeling charitable sometimes he reroutes an escape plan to make it a little more exciting - parkour for 006, hacking for 002. It'd be wrong to assume Q didn't feel some affection for those he protects. Fatherly pride, maybe, or something of the like, when they do something exquisitely well. Carefully compartmentalized worry when they wriggle themselves into a tight spot. He likes the idea, though, that he can be the constant. The calm tenor on the other end of the world, able to pull them out the depths of the hell just when they stop enjoying it.
So when 001 starts asking for Teresa on the comms, instead of Q, it's possible he's a little hurt.
He doesn't protest, though. He calls to Teresa across the room, and her head pops up from her laptop, eyes wide. Teresa always seems to look like something akin to a deer caught in the headlights, which is part of the reason she doesn't man the comms very often. He motions her toward him and briefs her rapidly on 001's status before letting her take his place.
He steps away, but not completely. Something changes in 001's voice when she hears Teresa's greeting. Teresa says something softly, and they both laugh. Though Q may be fond of his Double-Os, his relationship with them does not usually involve such casual humor, such comfort.
Well, with one exception. But that hardly matters.
3.
008 is dead.
Q hears his last intake of breath, then the wet gurgle as all the air leaves his body. Judging from what Q's got on his vitals, his lungs are full of blood. And retrieval is still seven minutes out.
"Sorry," is the last thing 008 wheezes.
Q hesitates. Too long. By the time he says, "It's alright," there's only silence on the other end of the line.
He authorizes the clean-up and then the world falls out of focus, as it has a tendency to do. He retreats toward the quiet of his office, trying to shake off the nausea and the panic and the inevitable numbness of the last few minutes, but something catches his eye in the sea of desks to his left.
Rajesh snaps his laptop shut, standing abruptly. Teresa reaches out for him, eyes full of pity, but he shakes her off and makes a beeline for the exit, eyes on the ground. Q follows him without a second thought.
It's unclear whether Rajesh is aware he's being followed as he zigzags down the purposefully bland corridors of this particular sublevel. Q stays a turn behind him, but doesn't bother with trying to be truly clandestine. He's curious, but can always pass it off as a security concern if need be.
He turns the last corner and almost isn't surprised by what he sees.
Rajesh has found himself an alcove to sink into, head in his hands. Q can hear the wet rasp of his breathing from down the hall. There is still a sense of decency inside Q that hasn't been completely absorbed by MI6, and it's that piece of him that urges him to walk away. There's nothing he can do, anyways. He's never been the comforting type. He turns on his heel and disappears with something like shamelessness.
Back in Q-Branch, the comms have come to life again, 007's voice filling the void.
4.
"...and today I saw 009 and Analucia coming in to work together," Q is saying, exasperation directed into his bowl of fried rice. "I don't know what the hell is happening."
"Your branch seems to be under siege." Eve smirks, eyes amused.
"There's got to be something unethical about all this," Q huffs. "But it seems my staff has given up on professionalism."
Eve gives him a patronizing smile over her dinner. "You can't really say that if a Double-O came on to you, you'd turn them down without a second thought."
"I absolutely would. I don't fancy being manipulated."
"You assume it's manipulation?"
"Why else would they bother with a member of Q-Branch? They get in with one of the inaccessible boffins and all the sudden they get exploding pens, or whatever the hell else," Q snaps.
"Have you ever heard of how opposites attract, Q?"
"Oh, shut it," Q says, but whatever venom that was initially behind it melts into a fond smile. "I didn't take you for such a romantic, Eve."
She just smiles, shaking her head like she knows something he doesn't.
Q doesn't like secrets.
1.
Maybe he's still reeling from 008's death, maybe he just hasn't slept enough this week. Either way, Bond calls his name three times before Q hears him. He looks up from the code he's been staring blankly at for an indefinite period of time and finds Bond on the threshold of his office, his expression somewhere between amusement and concern.
"Do you need something, 007?"
"I might."
"Well, spit it out." Q scowls, eyes back on his laptop.
"I need your full attention."
Q looks up again, finding that Bond has moved further into the room. Prowling, feline-like, into Q's personal space. He looms over where the quartermaster is seated primly in his desk chair. Q's eyes roam up the immaculately pressed suit, to the tanned, well-muscled neck, to a couple day's worth of whiskers bordering a thin, cruel mouth, currently thrust up on one side into a roguish half-smile.
"You have my attention," Q says, not sure whether he wants to lean in or back out.
Bond smiles, and it's not quite predatory and not quite tender. He says, "Have you ever heard of how opposites attract?"