A/N: Welcome to Tessitura.

I

New Faces, Old Games

"Make me disappear."

Those words, quiet yet chilling, sent Q's heart to pace nervously as he stepped out into the open air, caught in a frozen moment as he stood still within the shelter of the Vauxhall Bus Station. His eyes were fixed towards the terror that was the SIS building, charred and crumbled to pieces with a sinister darkness at its core. It was once the heart of the fire, an attempt full of raging blood caused by the chaos of secrets - secrets now even he had to shoulder. The previous night, when 007 had asked the favour to disappear, Q consistently questioned his own agreement. He answered to M, he always did, and being the new quartermaster - Q thought to be faithful to the terms he accounted himself for. But there was something about it, an admiration of sorts, that made him agree to it. It was only for 48 hours, a word was a word, but he couldn't help but slightly suffocate at what he had gotten himself into.

"There you are." a voice called out to him. Q turned towards the sounds of the footsteps and the shadows that overcame it, blinking. It was Tanner. "You're a tad late. I've been waiting at the docks."

Q stayed silent as Tanner stepped and stood right by his side, gazing right at the same view he had just stared at. Tanner breathed out an audible sigh, heavy in both bitterness and regret, as they were once again consumed by the noise of the arriving bus and civilian chatter.

"The price we pay." Tanner muttered in a way only Q could hear, digging deeply into his pockets as the chill of the River Thames whispered a breeze.

"I don't miss it." Q muttered back, suddenly shifting in movement before he turned away from the destruction and passed Tanner by the shoulder - pacing away from the station and towards the docks, "We don't want to keep 009 waiting, Tanner."

The everyday boat ride was not as unpleasant as a plane ride would be. Q hated planes, but boats were of a small inconvenience - a bearable inconvenience - especially if it meant he could protect the system and the technology even better than before. As he and Tanner entered the tunnel and reached the docks of his office, Q stepped himself onto the platform with his bag tightly gripped around his fingers. Water was never friendly with electronics.

"I'll be seeing you." Tanner called out to him, as he stayed on the boat as opposed to stepping onto the platform with him.

"You're not coming? I thought you'll be briefing 009." Q asked, with an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Already did, she knows what she needs to know." Tanner replied, shrugging off the heavy day ahead of him, "I have to go with M to that CNS meeting, especially since C is rather aggressive in dissolving us. The Nine Eyes Program is too attractive to other nations to be ignored. Take care, Q."

As Tanner drove away, Q stood and wondered, she? Not that it made any sort of difference, they all seem to belong to the same breed of headaches. He did not brief himself too well with her files, and most of an agent's data only referred to them by number. The events prior being moved in this bunker - Skyfall, Silva, and M - gifted Q with the obsession of protecting the system. After he had let his arrogance allow Silva the advantage of escaping through hacking the system, he has been more careful than ever. He was not worthy of his duties if he could overlook such possibilities. Not to mention, 009 has been active in her own assignments even before his instatement. This would be the first time he would ever meet her.

Q walked up to the doorway of his guarded office, once again reminded of Bond's request. He cursed silently at the thought of his job being on the line, and the consequences it would make. All he had was Bond's word, but if Bond finds himself dead - that word won't matter. His thoughts stopped at the sight of his door ajar, a green light flashed in the darkness that told of someone's intrusion. Q felt his chest pound, something was wrong here. He looked at the two guards that stood still before opening his door further, peering through his frames for any signs of a break-in. None. Everything was in the way should be, but this only made him feel less at ease as his eyes traveled to the closed garage door that housed the DB10 prototype.

"No..." he muttered to himself as he dropped his bag to the side, reaching towards the nearest table with shaking fingers as he struggled to open the garage door with the remote. The mechanism's slow unfolding was the longest that Q had found himself experiencing, and as his hands grew colder, he felt his face lose colour at the absence of he DB10. It was gone. "Oh shit."

"And so he stole it." a voice sighed from the shadows, a deep, husky, and feminine sound that distracted Q from the missing DB10. A woman surfaced into the little light the bunker had, dressed in an all-black attire with the components of a long black overcoat and the collar of a black shirt peaking through. Her hair, a bright wavy blonde, was cut short just above her pointed chin and rested clumsily against the square of her jaw. "Spoiled men are hard to tame."

Q stared at her presence, startled by her silent entry, and taken aback by her brief commentary. It took a deep breath to grant him a moment of composure, one that allowed him to focus on the matter that was supposed to be at hand, "009."

"009." The blonde woman repeated in affirmation, nodding as she trailed quietly to his side, calmer than the storm that stirred inside him. "Well, it was supposed to be his car. I technically stole it from him."

"It's not stolen when it's reassigned." Q countered, with a voice calmer than he thought to project, "Now I - this is embarrassing - have nothing for you but the weaponry and the potential to be fired."

A soft chuckle escaped 009's lips, carefree and humoured. She turned away from the empty garage, her shoes padding towards the tables behind them. Q rolled his eyes with pursed lips and a deep breath, cursing the fleeting nature of field agents and they're tendency to do as they please. Bond promised a short disappearance, but stealing his property - the DB10 prototype of all things - was out of the question.

"Keep that sort of face you have on, and M will see through you." she called out to him, followed by the scratching sound of a chair against the floor and the clicking of a mouse. The notion alarmed Q to look where she went and found her sitting behind his laptop, clicking and typing away with the blinking screen washing over her pale complexion.

Q scowled as he rushed towards 009 with the intention to rid the laptop from her grasp, but as quick as he was, so was her reflexes. By the time he had managed to close in on her, 009 had a leg raised with her foot aimed at his stomach - keeping him within a distance as she moved the laptop closer and further from him. He looked at her aimed foot with a sound distaste, before looking back at her to negotiate, "Excuse me 009, but that is my property. Do you think of this as a game?"

"Would you rather have a foot or a gun aimed at you? Your choice, Q." 009 replied, angling her head slightly to meet with his gaze. There was a prying nature within her eyes, and Q felt a slight discomfort staring at them yet he kept his eyes straight into hers. He wanted his laptop back. 009 smiled, seemingly impressed with his aggression, which prompted her to lower her foot in silent respect.

Q took his chance and slipped the laptop away from her hands, closing the screen before resting his hands firmly on its reflective surface. 009 made no attempt of fighting him for it, and instead rested her cheek against the flat of her palm while observing his gestures. "You're lying to M, aren't you? Bond's not in London, not after the current incident with the DB10."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Q answered with a tightened jaw, keeping his eyes on her as she did with him - a promise of sincerity that he had been struggling to establish. "Which reminds me..."

Q gestured a hand to the direction of the door that stood at the very back of the bunker. Frowning slightly, 009 gave him an amount of her suspicion as she followed him through the door. In the middle of the room sat an angled metal chair surrounded by multiple screens, with the chair's right arm extended further to support what seemed to be an apparatus composed of multiple metal arcs. Right at the centre, in between two arcs, was a vertical cylinder that dipped an inch into the circular frame.

"Have a seat, 009." he requested of her as he flicked a few switches at the wall beside the doorway, powering up the screens to life. "And roll up your right sleeve for me."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were about to torture me." 009 grumbled, yet complied to his wishes as she took off her coat that revealed a fuller view of her all-black attire. Sitting down, she rolled up the sleeve of her right forearm which revealed a slightly faded tattoo as she fitted her forearm through the metal arcs.

When the screens were active, Q stood by her right to where the apparatus was located, slightly glancing at her before committing himself to the screen, "That's a Russian prison tattoo."

"They don't make you the quartermaster for nothing." she mumbled as if in expectation of his comment, leaning back against the seat with her gaze at the screens before her, "A souvenir from my youth — 'Friends by Free Will' — or so he told me. Long ago before I started believing in impermanence. Taking a life teaches you a lot of things — ugh! — what the—"

"Implanted." Q announced with an air of focus, giving 009 the assumption that he was uninterested with her monologue, "Smart Blood, 009. Nanotech that tracks your vitals and your location - think of it as an insurance."

"You mean a leash." 009 replied grimly, rolling down her sleeve as soon as the minimal bleeding subsided. Q kept himself occupied with sorting out her data, typing away at the computer that managed the room, "So that even Bond can't go dark."

"Agent safety is one of my many responsibilities." he reaffirmed, slightly amazed with how often she intended to use her sharp tongue for commentary. It was clear that 009 had certain problems with the systems that ran in the MI6, a common thread between all the other Double-O agents he had worked with, "I'm simply assuring that when you are declared dead, you are actually dead. The new M does not want another Bond situation to happen."

"Bond has been laying low even before Mexico, with no new missions assigned from M. Rather, I have been doing his job since after Silva and Skyfall with M giving me all the burden. Now even when officially grounded from operations, he's going around chasing shadows with MI6 property." 009 teared gaze away from his, occupied with her mind, "Where is he going, Q?"

Q kept typing without pause, as a moment of hesitance would only give her what she wanted. 009 was no fool to his facade, and from what he could see, she knew at least as much as he did. Maybe even more. But there were many things left unspoken, and even if Q knew well he complied to Bond's conditions, he knew little of what Bond wished to achieve from this stunt. "Frankly, I don't know."

"You do know, you just don't know what he's planning to do." 009 issued a tired grin, dressing into her coat as she rose from the seat. She ran her fingers through her locks of bright blonde like they were more an inconvenience than an asset, her eyes wandering once more, "However, I'm here because — you know why I'm here. Handover equipment and everything else I need, and I'll take my leave. The car - tell M I have it, which means you'll have to trust my word too."

Q was at his workstation as he listened to her words, ahead of her request as he packed what she needed in a small black duffle bag. Unlike that of Bond's favouring of a personal statement, 009 appreciated a heavy load. Finally coming to terms with who she was and what she is, Q wondered just what kind of Double-O operation she typically executes. As soon as he was done, Q zipped the duffle bag and faced her, "Field agents and their words. I suppose I have to comply based on 'having your word' don't I?" he took step closer to her, pushing the bag towards her chest as opposed to handing it with decency, "Heckler & Koch G36C, a silenced AMT Hardballer, and a prototype compact sniper rifle. If I didn't know better, I'd accuse you for a hitman rather than a spy. On top of that, your ticket to Prague. Return the equipment in one piece."

"If I was a hitman, would that make Bond a slag?" she retorted, sliding her arm through the loop handles of the duffle bag, the white envelope that held the plane ticket disappearing into her coat, "I take my chances with being a hitman."

As she started walking away with her goods, Q glanced at the metal box right by his hip - the watch. He did not give it to her on purpose to give him a reason to investigate her further. Though he had an understanding with most of what she shared of Bond, there was something in her words that made Q suspect that she knew more than what she letting him know - especially after she attempted to meddle with his laptop, "009."

"Yes?" she stopped by the doorway and turned to face him, the duffle bag dangling against her hip.

Q picked up the metal box and held it still, before outstretching his arm for her to reach, "Your watch. It's rather... Explosive. You have minute of safety once active." As she started reaching, he gripped the box tighter to catch her attention, "How much do you know, 009? Although you have tried to access my laptop, it was locked. Yet you spoke like you were reading it from the screen - how long have you been lingering in the bunker?"

"Long enough to watch 007 drive away with the DB10." A smirk pegged on her lips as her prying eyes studied him once more. From the way 009 surveyed him, Q knew that the woman underestimated his abilities. He couldn't help but feel slightly insulted with this conclusion, yet it was a simple truth written all over her mischievous face. "Along with a small chat."

"If you knew everything, why did you pretend?" Q raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he spoke, their grip still sharing the watch box.

"I guess you could call it..." 009 clicked her tongue lightly, adjusting the duffle bag that slowly started towards her wrist, "...a way to get to know you. You are the new quartermaster, after all. I don't know everything Q, actually I was hoping to coerce you to see if you knew more than I did. Bond talked too little for my liking."

With her side being expressed, 009 wriggled the box of his hand and into her full grasp before sliding it into the duffle bag. She zipped the bag shut before pulling her leather gloves from her pockets, sliding her fingers into them carefully. "If I may add," she spoke again in afterthought as she straightened her coat, flipping gloved fingers to reveal what seemed to be a photo of two cats of differing breeds, "you have really adorable cats."

Q, taken aback by the sight of the photo, reached for his pocket in search of his wallet. When he felt its leathered form, he knew it was there. As he kept himself with fishing it from his pocket, 009 chuckled that same chuckle she did the first time they spoke, settling the photo onto a nearby desk before disappearing out of the doorway. Momentarily distracted with how she managed to smuggle his wallet and return it without his notice, Q looked up to question but only found himself alone in the silence like she was never there in the first place. He walked up to the desk nearest to the door and picked up the photo - the lasting evidence of her presence - and probably one that he will remember for a very long time.

"How vile." he mused darkly for a moment, curious as he can be, before approaching the metal stool and opened his laptop. Another long day was ahead of him, and Q was certain this was only one of many more impressions 009 intends to make. But for the state that was at hand, the priority was to follow Bond's tracker and find out where he intended to go and come up with formidable lie that incorporated 009 as an alibi. All this in exchange for having their 'word', and Q wondered what is it that made him comply once more.

A/N: Thank you for enjoying the first chapter! Don't forget to review/comment.