Title: Metamorphosis

Parings: James Bond & Q

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Disclaimer: All characters, situations and concepts borrowed belong to their respective owners. If you recognize it its not mine. I claim no rights. I make no profit.

Chapter 1 - Homecoming

Despite the amount of times he spent on them, James Bond did not care for commercial airplanes. Even though he most often flew first class these days there was something about cramming a substantial number of humans into a small metal canister that set his hackles up. Intellectually he knew that it was most likely related to the overload of sensation that he was required to deal with whenever he set foot on a plane. The outside to recirculated air ratio, even at the normal fifty percent, meant that airplanes smelled like a crowd of people regardless of where in the plane he was seated. The engine noise was another irritation. Most jet engines had a high pitch overtone that was annoying at best and grating at worst. Especially annoying was when multiple engines happened to have just different enough overtones to create dissonance. Of course the food quality and quantity left a lot to be desired not to mention the fact that there was simply no way to get comfortable in an airline seat even if one wanted to do so. The things James had learned to put up with in the name of service to Queen and Country.

As he walked through the terminal James felt himself relaxing. Well relaxing as much as a 00 agent ever did in a public place. He never really dropped his vigilance until he was in his own flat, had double checked the security and was sipping some good scotch. Still, the smell and sights of Heathrow tended to relieve some of the tensions of 12 hours of travel. It was even better that mission had been a resounding success he was uninjured and wonder of wonders, all his equipment was intact. The boffins in Q branch would be ecstatic and Q himself would be flabbergasted. He strolled out past security only to have all the tension suddenly returned in a rush of adrenaline. Eve Moneypenny was standing in the foyer waiting for him. He looked at her carefully as he approached for clues. How was she going to want to play this?

"Bond," she greeted him as he strolled up. Her body language and tone of voice said co-worker. He could work with that.

"Moneypenny, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm truly sorry James," she replied, "but we have a situation at the office and himself wants you to apply your unique talents to the situation." She fell into step beside him.

So M wanted him back at HQ ASAP. It must be serious. "It couldn't have waited until after I've slept?"

"No, he was quite insistent," she replied.

Bond sighed. Anyone who had observed the exchange would hopefully conclude that James had an unreasonable boss who was yanking his chain by hauling him directly to the office after a business trip rather than letting him go home and sleep off the jet lag.

"Faster we get this over with, the faster I can get some sleep," he said for the benefit of any would be listeners as they reached the curb.

One of the MI6 armored behemoth sedans pulled up. He opened the door for Moneypenny and then slid into the car after her. The driver smoothly integrated the car into traffic and they were underway.

They rode a while in silence, James mulling over what Eve had said and not said. Mallory needed his particular talents. Which ones he wondered. The ability to kill that gave him the 00 status? His prowess as an agent? No, neither of those would qualify as unique. No what was unique was that James Bond was a werewolf. In fact he was the only werewolf currently in the ranks of MI6. Therefore, something was up that had a preternatural component and couldn't be handled adequately with the tools and personnel currently available.

Once he had come to that conclusion James took a good look and more importantly a good sniff of Moneypenny. She was tired. He could see it in her bearing and smell it in her scent. She had also been upset recently. She was keeping a stiff upper lip currently and would continue to do so as long as necessary but he suspected that she'd fall apart for at least a little bit as soon as the immediate crisis had abated. She also seemed edgy as if she kept expecting very bad news at any moment.

Her dress was impeccable but she hadn't showered. Her hair style was simpler than he'd seen in a while and she was wearing minimal make-up. If he remembered correctly it was from the emergency stash she kept in her desk. Given those clues it was clear to him that whatever it was had happened early this morning. It had caused her to be roused from her bed with barely enough time to get dressed before coming into the office.

"So," he started to see if he could get some idea about the situation only to have her shake her head minutely at him. Obediently he changed course conversationally. "Did the package I retrieved prove useful?"

"Yes actually," she replied. "There's going to be quite a bit of work for everyone following that up."

"Happy to be of service," he smiled and then just because it was a standard thing between them added flirtatiously, "Of course there are things other than retrieving packages that I am useful for." He gave her one of his most seductive looks.

"Yes James, I'm sure at least half of MI6 is aware of just how useful you are," was her immediate response in her normal brush off to his overtures.

The driver stiffened slightly. He must be new. James could smell his uncertainty. He wasn't quite sure what to do with the overheard innuendo. It was obvious that he'd not been given the briefing on dealing with 00's yet.

Eve caught the driver's unease too. "Don't tease the new hires," she admonished him, "It inevitably results in excess paperwork."

"Heaven forbid that you would be subject to any more paperwork," he quipped back at her.

"Careful James, remember if you don't keep on my good side I'll make you do it!"

"You wouldn't."

"Don't tempt me," she replied with a half-smile.

The driver relaxed again realizing that the byplay was not what it had seemed. MI6 was not in the habit of hiring unintelligent people. He'd do just fine once he had a little bit of experience James thought. In addition, the low level flirtation had its intended effect of taking a bit off Moneypenny's edginess. The rest of the trip passed in silence.

They entered the MI6 building through one of the biometric secured doors from the carpark. James was a little surprised when Moneypenny did not head to M's office. Instead she escorted him to the small conference room just inside Medical. M was standing looking out the window and turned when they came in.

"007."

"Sir."

Gareth Mallory walked over and engaged the ECM protocols that made the room as private as possible. "Q was attacked early this morning as he attempted to enter his flat," M started without preamble.

James struggled to contain a growl. Wolves were pack animals and werewolves shared that trait. Even werewolves like him who had declared themselves independent from traditional pack structures by going lone wolf tended to form close relationships that served the same function as a pack and kept them stable. For James MI6 as a whole served that purpose but the other 00's, Moneypenny, Tanner, Q and to some degree M himself were the people he counted as truly his. James was seriously dominant as a wolf. In a werewolf pack structure he would most likely be the Alpha, the top wolf, responsible for the protection of the others. The fact that someone had attacked and seriously injured one of his people was intolerable.

"We lost Perkins his driver," M continued, seemingly ignoring James' rising ire. "We would have lost Q but for the fact that he happened to be on the phone with the graveyard crew in Q-branch when it happened. They managed to get a team and an ambulance there in less than 5 minutes."

"Do you want me to track down the culprits?" James asked his voice low and gravely.

"No 007." M's body language was neutral and his eyes were on the table. It was clear to Bond that he was being very careful not to antagonize James' wolf nature any more than the news itself was doing. "We have others working on that. No, if you would…, what I would like for you to…, is for you to guard Q and take whatever action you deem necessary to ensure the safety and security of MI6."

The tone of his voice, the phrasing, the uncertainty he could hear and smell; it suddenly all made sense to James. Q had been attacked by a werewolf. The only question was whether he'd been hurt badly enough so that his human immune system had been compromised to the extent that the lycanthropy could take root. If that had happened the retrovirus would either kill him or turn him into a werewolf. It was not a simple or easy process. A full 60% of males and 80% of females died before the accelerated healing factor kicked in. For those who survived long enough for the change to take root a significant percentage were driven mad by the experience. That didn't even mention those who completed the change but never gained control of the wolf part of themselves. Those people were the sources of the werewolf legends and needed to be removed sooner rather than later.

M was asking James to watch over Q and put him down if it became necessary. He didn't know if M really understood what he was asking. At least he was asking, not ordering, him to perform the duties and take on the responsibilities of a pack Alpha. This was the very thing that James had gone lone wolf to avoid. With most anyone else James would be able to refuse but this was Q. One of the few people who knew what James was. The person who had designed weapons to account for his strength, tweaked gear to use with his acute senses, and developed a biochemical maskant to hid his scent from other wolves. No, he owed it to Q to help any way he could.

"Take me to him," James growled.

M nodded at Monneypenny and canceled the ECM countermeasures. She opened the door and set off down the hall without a word.

It was less than a minute and they were standing in one of the medical department's secure ICU rooms. Q was lying still on the bed looking even frailer and more waif-like than usual. It didn't help that he was covered in bandages and hooked up to a frightening array of machines. Given the extent of the damage James was a little surprised that Q wasn't on a respirator.

James felt like tearing at something. He wanted to eviscerate the bastard that had done this.

"I know James," Moneypenny said softly picking up on his mood. "We all feel that way."

He realized then that he'd been growling under his breath. That was not good. He needed the get a hold on himself if he'd be of any use to Q. James took a deep breath to get his emotions under control. Once he felt under control he stepped up next to the bed and bent down to get a good sniff of Q's scent. As he had suspected underneath the almost overpowering antiseptic and medication smells was a faint hint of wolf. Q was definitively infected. He stood up and stepped back from the bed to find not only Moneypenny but also Dr. Nielson watching him.

Dr. Erika Nielson was MI6's medical expert in all things preternatural and magical. She was barely 5 foot tall, long haired, brunette, in her late 40's, and looked as delicate as a porcelain doll. James knew first hand that her appearance was deceiving. She was muscled like a professional dancer, much stronger than she looked and could project an aura of confidence and authority which would intimidate most anyone. A black-belt in at least three martial arts disciplines she could hold her own in a sparring session with most of the agents. In fact, some of the trainers liked to use her to reinforce lessons on never underestimating an opponent. She was also the head of the team that dealt with his medical issues on the rare occasion that he needed such attention. Under the circumstances James was not at all surprised that she was the lead physician for Q's care.

"Well?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Damn." Dr. Nielson's face was grim. "Accelerated healing should kick in 12 to 14 hours after infection." She looked down at her watch then back at James. "We'll need to get down to minimal monitoring and take out anything extraneous within the next hour or so to be safe then." She turned to go, presumably to set things in motion but stopped and asked, "Will we need restraints?"

"No," James replied. "I'll handle it. I can restrain him without hurting him if necessary."

That earned him a surprised stare. He never knew quite how much Dr. Nielson knew about werewolf pack dynamics but it was clear she had some knowledge given the way she had treated him when he was injured. She seemed to know that he was dominant. It was also clear that she knew that the presence of a strong dominant could help a newly infected wolf survive through the initial physiological shift as well as through the psychological ramifications. She raised an eyebrow at him. Asking silently if he knew what he was letting himself in for.

He acknowledged her question with a short nod.

"I suggest sweats or scrubs then; this may get crazy," was her parting remark as she swept out of the room.

"Shall I…" Moneypenny started to ask.

"No," James cut her off. "Stay here till I get back then you can report to M." He put some force into the command and just assumed that she'd comply.

James headed for the gym and his locker at a trot. Sent was going to be an important factor in this. He'd used the maskant a day or so ago and it would still be partially effective. He needed to wash it off to allow his natural scent to reassert itself. He also had a clean set of sweats in his locker that would have picked up a good scent load from the other workout gear he stored there. There was something about the scent of a protective dominant wolf that calmed and reassured the very newly changed. It was a trick he'd seen used once and he intended to use every trick he knew to get Q through at least the initial stages with as minimal trauma as possible.

By the time he made it back to medical a shy 30 minutes later he found that the team had indeed been busy. There were fewer monitors and Q was down to one IV line. All of them could be disconnected easily. With James' reappearance Moneypenny took herself off. James pulled up a chair and settled down to wait.

It wasn't too long before Dr. Nielson came back into the room. She took a look at the remaining monitors and then fiddled a bit with the IV line. "Shouldn't be long now," she commented half to herself, "His temperature is starting to rise." She looked directly at him then, "The monitoring sensors will disconnect if you pull here." She indicated a tab. "Leave the IV in until the last possible moment. I'm running him on a high glucose solution which should hopefully give him some extra energy through the initial healing surge."

James nodded. He could hear the concern in her voice.

"Is there anything you need to deal with this from here on in?" she asked him.

"Could you have the safe room stocked and ready? Its only four days until the full moon and I'll want to move him down there as soon as he's stable enough." The full moon would trigger Q to change to wolf form regardless of how recent the lycanthropy infection. It wasn't going to be safe to keep Q in medical when that happened. MI6 had a suite of rooms in one of the sub-basements that was specifically designed to hold a werewolf. James planned to install himself and Q there until the danger was past.

She grimaced "Damn, I'd forgot to check the lunar calendar. I'll make sure it's done. Anything else?"

James hesitated. There were reasons that MI6 Quartermasters were always known by the code name Q. It allowed them and their true identity to be protected from threats both external and internal. Q had only been Q for a year and a half and he'd had the designation R for only 6 months before that. Would he respond to his code name while in severe pain? Probably not.

"Yes, could you also find me his real name?"

He started to explain his reasoning but Dr. Neilson cut him off, "Good idea. He may not respond to Q. It's Taliesan. Tal for short."

James blinked at that. Q had been saddled with the name of an ancient Welsh bard? "How do you…"

"He was assigned to me when he first came into MI6," Dr. Nielson stated. "I don't only take care of agents you know."

"Oh but none of the others are as exciting I'd wager," despite the situation James couldn't help teasing a bit.

"You'd think so but you'd be wrong. A lot of interesting injuries and medical issues come out of Q branch." She smiled sadly in Q's direction. Apparently Q had managed to get himself banged up enough to warrant her attention somewhat frequently. Dr. Neilson turned to go. "Page me if you need me." She was almost out of the room but paused at the door and looked back. "I know this isn't your usual type of mission but someone has to say it…good luck 007."

Author's Note: As noted in the summary this is NOT an A/B/O story even though the terms "alpha" and "omega" will be tossed around upon occasion. If you haven't already read Patricia Briggs' excellent work run, do not walk, and procure yourself copies however you can...you won't be disappointed.

This will most likely be a slow updating story so please bear with it. Only lightly beta'd and not brit picked. As always kudos, reviews, comments and typo spotting are always welcome.