Another 00Q / Skyfall comission fanfiction from my new years eve fanfic project.
Enjoy!
Steaming hot tea cup on the table, a laptop to the right.
Without a doubt, this was his workplace. Qs workplace.
In the catacombs, the new MI6 headquarters. Where he spent more time at than at his actual home. Nobody was waiting for him there, anyway. Just another heartless one-person apartment, stuffed with displays and cables, blueprints and prototypes. A quiet place on the ground floor in the heart of London. And yet so much different from where he wanted to be. It was lonely in there, sometimes. Soundless. But when he was at work there were many voices around him. Agends. M. Miss Moneypenny. And one who was special. A doule-0-Agend he guided through his missions. Whom he provided with extraordinary equipment. Inventions he made for that one man only. And yet, he barely acknowledged them - or even brought them back as once.
He let out a heavy sigh. He lost connection over the earpiece a minute ago and couldn't get it back. Qs fingers slided over the laptops keyboard.
"What happened?", M asked, "Where is he?"
"I lost sattelite connection, he's somewhere around the Tower, but I can't find him in the security system either."
"Why?", he sounded angry, as if he knew what Q did just seconds before the connection failed.
"I shut the cameras down.", he admitted, with shaking hands.
"You did what?"
"They were in the Towers camera system, I couldn't let them see him. And there's no radio signal yet."
M crossed his arms.
"Then, how should he get out of there, if they're in the security system?"
Q took off his glasses, shut his laptop and turned around to M.
"I will go."
The buzzing sound of flourescent tubes where the first he heard. The first he felt was a tight rope that bound his hands behind his back. Dark grey walls, a familiar place. He saw it on television before, in the newspapers, but he wasn't there before. Not even imaginary. It wasn't something he would have wasted time or money on.
Crown jewels. A heavy golden something on his head, a septre on his lap.
"What kind of sick game is this?!", he murmured.
"Nice to meet you, Mister Bond.", a crude voice made its way to his ears through the speakers inside the building, "So sad, I can't be here in person, but my assistant will take care of you."
There she was, out of nowhere, a woman in a deep red dress. High heels, blonde hair. He tried to jump up from the small throne, throwing it over, to release him from the rope, to reach for the small Walther in his holster. He made it half the way, but his gun wasn't there anymore. Neither was the earpiece, nor the radio. The jewels crashed down to the exhibition halls ground.
"Oh you miss your toys?", the voice from the speakers echoed through the room, "I am sorry, but I couldn't let you kill my new assistant."
He wanted to get of the small podest where he got seated, but the glass showcase closed and locked the new exhibit inside.
"It must be really frustrating, isn't it?", the blonde woman said, giggling, "We are in Londons security system, we can take care of all MI6 agends for now. A nice game, for a change."