Disclaimer: I don't own "James Bond" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: Set post-Spectre. This is just a little bit of an examination on how Q might handle suddenly presenting as Omega when he has gone his entire life thinking he was Beta.
Warnings: alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alpha/omega, canon appropriate violence, possible dub-con/consent issues due to nature of the trope, animal traits/characteristics, pining, look at these stupid boys I have adopted.
Celerity
"Turns out you aren't a Beta at all, Mr. Quincel. Just remarkably discerning," the doctor told him without inflection. Looking down at him with narrowed eyes that were even more lost behind ill-fitting, out of date frames. "Congratulations on being one of the .09%"
He wasn't sure if it was the hormones, or Bond's cumulative bad influence, but he'd never wanted to punch someone more. Watching with extreme distaste as the man scribbled down a prescription - hormone blockers, heat suppressants and birth control – with depressingly little care.
"Due to the nature of your work, we'll have someone pick these up and deliver them to your residence discreetly," the doctor monotoned, speaking over the bothering pitch of frequencies tapering of in his ears as the lights switched back to full brightness, signaling the end of the appointment. "It's understandable to be overwhelmed. Presenting later in life is always a challenge. But we encourage our patients who find themselves in these sort of circumstances to remind themselves that they are as they always were. You've always been an Omega, Mr. Quincel. You were merely waiting for the right Alpha."
He clutched his shirt in his lap. Wringing the material between clenched fingers when the doctor didn't immediately leave him to contemplate the shreds of his tattered dignity. Aware on some level that his heart rate had increased. Anxiety was building like a storm between his ribs as everything he'd ever read about complex biological systems and Omega and Alpha relations surged like nausea in his mind's eye. Every muscle in his body promising to ache later, when he could finally be alone to contemplate the mess his life had become.
"Speaking of which...your Alpha-" the doctor posed, setting his tablet to the side for the first time since the end of the body scan. Fixing him with a look that made his stomach knot in discomfort. "It's important you bond as soon as possible. You don't have the luxury of choice, I'm afraid. Let me be clear, Mr. Quincel. This is your only Alpha. You presented for them because the Omega in you sensed their need. They're unbonded for a reason. They've been waiting for you to-"
He'd never gotten out of a room faster.
Biology, as he was discovering first hand, was a complicated, messy affair.
For the majority of his life he'd been largely above it. Indeed, he'd relished his median status as a Beta. Counting himself lucky as he watched the people around him inevitably present as Alpha or Omega and have their lives devolve into a complete tail spin.
It had been an emotion he'd experienced more than once. Somewhere between pity for the afflicted and relief he was being left out of it. First with his fellow students at school and later with colleagues – some of them even at the lab. Not that they needed his pity, no. More times than he could count, the same people who'd mildly echoed his sentiments returned changed. Apparently unbothered they had to contend with ruts and heats – and worse still, overbearing mates.
Being ruled by hormones and baser drives was an indignity he found deeply distasteful.
Which is why he was perhaps the most surprised person in the room when he'd tackled Moneypenny's new assistant through a set of glass doors and into M's office for daring to touch 007 when he wandered into his lab after a month long mission. Looking sun-tanned, healthy and almost indecently pleased to see him.
Her throat had been incredibly white.
Creamy and tapered and probably would have looked lovely with his teeth buried in it.
Luckily Tanner had dragged him off before he could properly find out.
Biology, apparently, always got the last laugh as well.
He was almost pathetically grateful when he checked his systems from the safety of the parking garage and detected nothing out of the ordinary. No sign of Bond, Moneypenny or anyone from the agency. The cats were lounging on opposite ends of the chaise. His herb planter was on - the 'add nutrients' light glowing red. None of his alarms had been tripped and the cameras were all in working order. The only thing that was different then when he'd left that morning was the invoice from his house keeper tucked under the sugar bowl and the brown, nondescript package from the pharmacy waiting neatly on his doormat.
The sigh he heaved as the elevator doors closed hurt coming up. Unable to shake the suspicion that Bond was lying in wait somewhere. Ready to pounce when he least expected it. Incurably determined to do- well, whatever it was he was going to do.
Claim him, he would imagine.
He leaned back against the door as he closed it. Clicking the lock as it dug unpleasantly between the knobs of his spine. Remembering how his reflection in the broken glass had warped. Expression set in a vicious snarl as he showed the rival Omega a line of blunt white teeth. Threatening further violence if her scent changed to anything other than complete and utter submission.
The Alpha was his.
He'd fight for his right in the old ways if necessary.
The other Omega was inferior.
A distraction.
And she'd touched-
The emotions he'd felt then were still visceral. Raw. Prompting him to drag his palms down the line of his cheeks. Stretching the skin as he tried to tell himself that his increased heart rate was just anxiety. All the while ignoring the chirp of his cell, recognizing the muted vibration that came later as from Moneypenny, then unknown, then-
He shook his head as he reached into his bag and placed the phone down on the table without looking. He didn't think he could handle any more social interaction today. Regardless of how well meaning it might have been.
The irony was, save for his momentary - but very deliberate - bout of hysteria, he didn't feel any different. Not unstable. Nor unbalanced. Not even the occasional sear of heartburn from the leftover curry he'd had for lunch. Now that he was back in his own space, free from prying eyes, other than the low throb of the bruises and cuts he'd gotten on his way through the window, he felt pleasantly...normal.
Which by itself was decidedly not normal at all.
Even his mood was suspect.
More and more, he felt centered. Unable to muster up the willpower to be anxious or feel like everything was spiraling out of control as he stared at the package on his counter like it had all the answers.
He should have been.
But he wasn't.
Perhaps he was still in shock?
He shook his head minutely, dismissing the idea without any real regret as he puttered around with the kettle. Idly checking his computer systems in the lab with his spare tablet. Not at all surprised to find that the glass doors had been replaced in the span of hours since then and now.
He winced as he recalled the way Bond's expression had changed when he looked through the chaos. Finding him in a way that seemed singular and impossible all at the same time. Teeth bared as he kept the offending Omega pinned underneath him. Showing his Alpha he was willing to fight for his right to have him. That he was staking his own claim. Right there in the middle of MI-6. Baring his throat, so that the Alpha could see the slim lines and tense muscles, as Bond took a step towards him. One hand reaching out before-
He shook the thought away.
Recoiling as a wave of second-hand embarrassment made itself known.
Again.
Good god, he doubted he'd be able to set foot in the building after this!
Because if all that hadn't been enough, it'd been M who'd stopped them. Standing between them before either of them could move. Saying something clipped to Bond that made the other Alpha bristle. Distracting him long enough for Moneypenny and Tanner to hush in and drag them away.
Perhaps he owed the poor woman a fruit basket of some sort?
He wasn't sure what the protocol was for having accosted someone against his will.
He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples as he reached into the cupboard for some tea-bags.
He'd have to talk to Moneypenny in the morning.
Sometime during the night he disabled his security system.
It was an act done willingly and of his own volition.
Yet somehow, he was still distant from it.
Like he was on the outside looking in.
As though a part of him that'd rarely raised its head had taken the reins somehow.
Knowing what had to be done better than he did himself.
He felt like a stranger inside his own skin as he watched his fingers dance across the keypad. Nodding distractedly as each of his fail-safe's went temporarily offline before he set the tablet aside and wandered barefoot into the kitchen. He dug his fingers into the soreness that was throbbing in his right shoulder. Already able to see the bruise spreading from where he'd crashed through the glass door as he looked out at the city skyline.
On some level he was aware of the fire burning underneath his skin. Aware that he rarely walked around his own apartment without the comfort of his accustomed layers. Or that taking down his system was an unforgiveable breech of security. Just the same as he was aware, on some level, that when he looked out into the lit-up dark, he was really looking for one thing in particular. Or one person, rather.
But the merciful part of it was, he was beyond feeling anything but anticipation.
"I knew you'd come," he murmured affectionately. Turning his head towards the line of shadows that'd separated from the wall by the door. Highlighting the Alpha's familiar profile as Bond scented the air.
He shivered. Trembling, but strangely calm now as the man's rut scent spread to match the strength of his heat. Building like a comfortable humidity – or maybe just an electrical storm as sweat-slick fingers trailed down the edge of the countertop. Allowing it as Bond slowly backed him into a corner he had no intention of escaping. Baring his throat and letting go of a sound he'd never heard from himself before as the Alpha hummed out a base sounding growl.
Yes. Just like this.
Because he had known.
He'd been waiting.
It was the reason he'd felt so calm when everything might as well have been falling to bits around him. Because he knew Bond wouldn't be able to stay away. More than that, he wouldn't want to.
"Was just waiting on you, darling," Bond murmured. Voice deep and rich and intimately recognizable regardless of pheromones or heat. As steady as a pulse and ten times as serious as Bond's fingers tangled briefly with his like he was asking permission.
It was reassuring.
To know that things weren't really changing.
They were just coming together.
Like the ends of a circle curving up to meet.
This was what he'd been missing.
That understanding that connected everything else together.
Impossible to quantify or clarify until it was living and breathing under your skin.
Later he'd come to the sobering realization that the comments from the doctor and the expression on Bond's when he'd reached for him in the debris of M's office had condensed into the same thing he'd always thought himself above. Pointing down a clear path he'd been avoiding all this time. That Bond had recognized him as his a long time ago. Perhaps from that very first day in the art gallery. And he'd been waiting for him since. All this time. Alone. Wondering. Second-guessing. Wanting.
It must have been torture.
But that wasn't what he was thinking now.
Not as Bond scented down the pale of his neck. Exciting electricity through the short hairs, before huffing a sound that was all gruff and smooth leather-char when he offered his throat freely. Murmuring the Alpha's name in a low, crooning welcome that made the taller man shiver and push him gently into the wall. Pressing his hardness up against the divot of his hip as he tipped back his head and invited him to do more.
Right now he was thinking they'd been without each other quite long enough, thank you.
A/N: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – This story is now complete.
Reference:
Celerity: swiftness; speed.