Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author Note: Set between 'Skyfall' and 'Spectre'. Hints at a bit of Mallory/Moneypenny.
AN ANOMALY OF OWLS
Q wasn't surprised when he found 007 talking to Moneypenny outside M's office. It was bound to happen eventually. Undoubtedly 007 had heard about M's visitor and the fact that Q always met with them afterwards. He liked to claim that Q lived down in Q Branch – Q actually owned several properties, not that Bond had been able to find the least scrap of evidence of any of them – so naturally Bond was curious about what had driven Q above ground. 007 was always so keen to try and pry personal details out of Q. Now, he was actually going to gain an insight and he hadn't even worked for it, the bastard.
Bond honestly had no clue who he was about to meet. No wonder Moneypenny was smirking.
Q, computer tablet tucked under one arm, neared and noted Moneypenny's body-language. She did so enjoy tying Bond in knots. It was a stimulating exercise Q had found, and he did enjoy how Bond reacted. Most other agents weren't nearly as interesting to be on comms for. Bond was as frustrating as the next Double-0, he had no preservation instincts when it came to Q Branch property, but then he would say or do something that amused or intrigued Q, reminding him that Bond wasn't entirely the blunt instrument that MI6 produced ad nauseum.
Anomalies had always fascinated Q.
Bond turned his considerable gaze towards Q and looked him up and down. Beneath his blank face, Q briefly enjoyed the attention and noticed how much Moneypenny's smirk had grown. She was in this for the sport and was far too knowing about Q's own motivations.
M appreciated how their work kept Bond occupied; he most likely didn't appreciate the fun that they both had doing it though.
"Q Branch emergency?" asked Bond with far too much amusement.
Q raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Honestly.
"I'm here for a meeting, as you well know, 007."
"A meeting? Unscheduled?"
Bond was pacing a little closer to Q now, perhaps looking for tells. Q looked back with his usual amount of unconcealed patronising amusement. If this was how 007 gained covert information then it was amazing England was still standing. Q didn't know why he found the man so interesting.
Moneypenny laughed and cast a glance towards Q that said she knew what he was thinking and that he was being adorable. Q cast a glance back that said he was not adorable and that he was now seriously rethinking the jewellery upgrade that he'd been planning for her.
M's door opened and a woman stepped out, middle-aged and slightly shorter than Q with dark wavy hair. She wore a floral skirt with a plainer blouse and a jacket that matched the skirt's cheerful colours, it was a bright almost leisurely outfit compared to what was usually worn at this level of MI6. Her eyes were clear and shrewd behind wide-framed glasses and there was a small enamel owl-shaped brooch pinned to her jacket. Q smiled slightly, an expected expression that she returned. It was good to see her. There hadn't been a 'court' meeting for about eight months.
M appeared beside her and didn't look surprised by the people waiting outside his office. He turned to his visitor, "I think that's all unless you want to go over the final report again?"
"No, no. I'm quite happy with it for now."
"Good." M glanced towards Moneypenny now. "Next month, Moneypenny."
"The month after, I'm afraid," put in his visitor.
Moneypenny nodded, "Ma'am."
M looked very pointedly towards Bond, "You're early, 007."
Bond smiled slightly, his gaze sliding away from the visitor at last, "A new approach for a new regime."
M looked distinctly cynical at that and didn't grace it with a reply. Instead he turned to Q. "That problem from Bosnia's been fixed I trust?"
Q nodded, "Of course, except for the constant risk of user error."
"Of course. Moneypenny, please get the Sergeant on the phone."
M disappeared into his office without another word as Moneypenny concentrated on her phone, though Q was sure that she still had an eye on whatever might now begin to play out in front of her. Q glanced at the visitor, noting how her left eyebrow flickered. Ah. Well, this was going to be fun.
He double-checked his iPad. "They're holding a table for us."
Moneypenny hung up, her timing as perfect as always, "You know, I'm just in the mood for their fetticheeni."
The visitor smiled, "With a decent glass of white and a flambéed dessert."
"Of course."
Moneypenny did like it when dessert got set on fire. Q understood her taste; he'd perfected the art of crème brulees some months ago, after a bad day at the office a blowtorch was sorely needed. Bond looked as though he was about to interject, his eyes dancing with very intrigued amusement, when Lois Carson, MI6 administrator, appeared as though silently summoned, Moneypenny's doing no doubt by either phone or bracelet. Lois was wearing the jade-accented piece that also had the capacity to record audio and fire a dart laced with a powerful knockout compound. According to the feedback Q had correlated, the latter had been used more than once by several MI6 administrators. Q had fashioned that particular bracelet charm to look like a rocket.
Moneypenny inclined her head, "He's discussing the Hillgrave matter with the Sergeant now and 007 is due in for a meeting."
Lois nodded and took her place behind Moneypenny's desk once Moneypenny had vacated it. Lois was young with the sort of fresh pretty looks that suggested youth and innocence but Q had seen her sparring with Moneypenny, she'd shown the most improvement out of anyone on this floor. It'd been Moneypenny's idea after Silva, to make sure that the administrators had the ability to defend themselves and whatever vital materials they dealt with. M had highly approved.
Bond was watching everything with a certain impatience which he probably thought he was hiding. He was most definitely incredibly curious and frustrated that he wasn't gleaning any answers. Moneypenny retrieved her handbag and resettled her necklace – the pendant was a finger-print activated panic-button.
"We'll be back in an hour or so. If you insist on asking any questions about Budapest, Danielle has all the details," Q told Bond before turning conveniently to their visitor. "Oh, this is James Bond, one of our Double-0s. Bond, this is Agnetha Harris, my mother."
Bond's eyebrows shot up and Agnetha just smiled in that vague pleasant way people did when interacting with someone they didn't actually know or see any significance in.
"Mr Bond. Q, I'm needed back in an hour."
"You call him Q?" Bond interjected, amused and very much grasping for whatever crumbs he could.
Agnetha looked equally amused and also patronising, exchanging a glance with Q as though seeking an explanation for such a question.
"Of course I do."
"Send 007 in, Ms Carson."
M's voice interrupted the conversation via the speakerphone on Moneypenny's desk. Of course he knew who was currently sat at Moneypenny's desk; he and Moneypenny maintained a sort of fiendish metaphorical telepathy. And yet any teasing Bond slung out about the two of them never made a dent. It was partly why Moneypenny continued such gamesmanship with Bond – the obvious could be a brilliant cover. Q often despaired of Bond's occasional inability to see past what was right in front of him. Double-0s were so literal.
Lois turned an expectant expression towards Bond. Moneypenny and Agnetha were already walking away, discussing the flight patterns of certain birds, Moneypenny had been looking something up . Q followed them, catching sight of Bond's intent gaze. Q did not show any sign of being affected. He had lunch and winged victory to think about after all.
Suna's was busy but their table was empty and waiting for them. They all knew what they wanted anyway; Moneypenny and Agnetha both ordered pasta variations while Q went for the cheese dumplings with bacon. He'd earned it.
A bottle of white wine that both Moneypenny and Agnetha approved of was brought over – they'd only have a glass each since they were going back to work afterwards but they appreciated it anyway. According to Moneypenny, she'd dealt with a couple of very difficult ambassadors that morning as well as medical staff exasperated with some Double-0s.
"Ambassadors," stated Agnetha in the sort of tone that suggested extremely trying children. "There are some I'd like to ban from ever being granted an audience."
"With Herself?"
"With anyone."
Q listened to the two of them. It'd been far too long since he'd last seen Agnetha or any of the others; his work was all consuming as was hers though in a very different way. Hers was much more about the intricacies of polite politics and manners, Q couldn't imagine anyone being better at it than her.
She was wearing earrings that could summon palace security in seconds and shoes that contained an electronic chip in the right heel for analysing the contents of a room. She looked content, that was good.
Agnetha took a sip of wine and turned to Q, wrapping a brief hand around his wrist. Q appreciated it.
"You were right about the look on his face," Agnetha said with great amusement.
Moneypenny laughed, "Bond is going to be very hurt that you didn't recognise him, he probably assumed Q talked about him non-stop or pined obviously."
Q snorted though of course Moneypenny knew that Q did in fact spend a lot of time thinking about Bond, about the anomaly of 007 and just why he was so fascinating. Some things Q didn't talk about; the prickle he always felt in Bond's presence, the relief he felt whenever Bond was safely ensconced on a post-mission plane home, the pleasure he found in conversation with Bond. Some things were entirely private.
Agnetha smiled knowingly, Q didn't verbalise his thoughts. For one thing he didn't need to – occasionally bloody annoying but mostly a godsend - and for another he had no intention of allowing this lunch to become focused on James Bond.
"How did the reception go?"
"Almost successfully I think. A few people had to be moved along and there was a dropped-tray moment but nothing that wasn't immediately taken care of."
A dropped tray. Moneypenny looked contemplative, like someone who'd once used a dropped tray as a distraction for something else.
"You checked for tracking and listening devices?" she asked.
Agnetha shifted her foot, "Naturally. Nothing has been found. Believe me, everything and everyone in that room is still under a tremendous microscope."
Well there was that, even if Q was now itching to get his hands on surveillance footage from that event. But their food was served at that moment so Q quickly dug into the delicious cheese dumplings instead. Moneypenny smiled.
"You know, the rumour is that you exist only on sugar and tea."
Q waved an inconsequential hand. Rumour was there to be used after all, "And rumour has it that you're the one who really runs MI6."
Moneypenny's smile curled at the edges. Of course that wasn't just a rumour. There were other unsavoury stories that ran around MI6 about Moneypenny's high-status job; Q always seeded severe viruses amongst the personal computing equipment of those involved in spreading those particular stories. He knew that Moneypenny did equally vicious things on his behalf too.
Agnetha tucked into her pasta with great pleasure. Q's gaze scanned her again; time was at a premium, Queen and country and well, everything else. They both understood that. Still, some things were worth forcing time for, anomalies or otherwise.
Perhaps he could engineer a heart monitor; for when people dropped trays and their truthfulness was paramount. Agnetha was a proven lie-detector in her own right but hardwired help would tip the balance much further in her favour. He was already working on a very complicated bracelet for her birthday.
Lunch flew past far too quickly. Q received frequent updates from Danielle – 007 is prowling. I've told him that won't make me work faster or you return any quicker. He's asking about your lunch appointment, everyone is Very Busy and refusing to talk classified information.
Q smiled; his minions.
Exploding projectiles today he replied.
I'll have every schedule cleared.
He could sense her smile. After the last competition round, new sprinkler and fire hazard prevention systems had been designed and installed. Q Branch always loved a chance to test new weapon permutations; there were numerous spreadsheets and betting pools. It had occasionally meant other projects suffering so Q now had to use it as purely a reward system or at least a 'not dominating too much of our budget or urgent time' system. Today was a good day for it; 004 needed something long range and destructive for next month's joint-CIA investigation in Cuba after all.
Q had always favoured what could be done with some sort of compact crossbow; it was so much more versatile than a revolver.
"Explosions galore?" queried Moneypenny with a very knowing look.
"Not yet."
Moneypenny unsheathed her smartphone and made a note. Yes, M did like to be warned. He had a stake in the betting pool too, as did Moneypenny and Tanner. Agnetha looked fond and nostalgic.
"I can still smell that burning plastic," she told Q. "Honestly, I still don't know why you didn't set up in the garden. You were always so good with smoke detectors."
Oh yes, his junior attempts at creating a more impressive firework than the disappointing shop-bought ones used on his first ever Bonfire Night with Agnetha. Q's final checks hadn't been as thorough as necessary and the next thing he'd known, some unstable elements had touched and enough smoke to set off every alarm had made itself known. The burning plastic had been particularly pungent. It was Q's turn to look nostalgic now.
Moneypenny finished her glass of wine as the waiting staff began sweeping away empty plates and dessert orders were placed. Her smile turned anticipatory.
"Any photos?"
Q was almost sure he'd locked away all digital copies, working for MI6 as well as other agencies' continual interest in his work necessitated that. Agnetha smiled though.
"Not on hand but..."
Moneypenny clinked her water glass against Agnetha's with a very satisfied smile. Q frowned on principal; it wasn't as though he hadn't seen photos from Moneypenny's past. The stories that went with them were almost better. He remembered an evening which'd involved him, Moneypenny, Danielle and Travis from Q Branch security all recalling and in some cases re-enacting various secondary school mishaps, competing for the best tales, all whilst enjoying strawberry vodka and the riverfront way past the Houses of Parliament. It wasn't as though any of them ever drank enough to get dangerously drunk; they were all better vetted than that. Besides, Q had gone through an immensely varied education at university, being able to keep up with everyone's drinking had meant getting to the good stuff when it came to technological engineering.
"Carolyn's doing well in Marseille," Agnetha told him as dessert arrived. "And Justin will come through training well, I think."
Q nodded; he kept an eye on his brothers and sisters, just as he knew they kept an eye on him. Kiran got incredibly frustrated when she couldn't get all the information she wanted but she got enough. She teased him about Bond. Q sent her ridiculously-complicated electronic puzzles that he spent days designing; she sent him riddles, usually pointing to wherever she'd be working next. Her emails to the family were always addressed 'To the Court of Owls.'
"As if we've ever been anything else."
As if.
None of them had talked to Thomas in years but Kiran was adamant that her programming proved he still read everyone's emails.
Q drained his water glass and focused on his bread and butter pudding. They'd used brandy and the kind of thick custard that he always craved.
Once the lunch hour was almost up, Agnetha insisted on paying and said goodbye to them outside Suna's. She hugged Moneypenny and made plans for a couple of weekends' time. She touched Q's forearm, he didn't twitch away. He drank her in – the others would want details.
"I'll let you know if I hear anything about or from Mr Bond."
Q snorted, he doubted Bond even knew where to start looking. After all, it wasn't as though Agnetha Harris was her only name. And Agnetha's clearance was on a very special level. It was why she always met with M personally.
Lady-in-waiting was such an innocuous title. But Q knew what they had always been – the most well-hidden-in-plain-sight rank of royal security, in England at least. Only the top brass at alphabet agencies knew of their existence and only someone like M was trusted enough to have such frequent contact. Anyone who attempted anything even slightly off-colour at the palace was always in for a deservedly sharp shock.
Bond had absolutely no idea who he was dealing with.
Agnetha squeezed Q's arm again. "Have fun."
Q nodded; he wouldn't be a stranger. A car arrived moments later to take Agnetha to wherever she was needed and Moneypenny and Q walked back to where Lois was waiting to handover to Moneypenny. Down in Q Branch, Bond wasn't waiting. Q wasn't disappointed - clearly Bond was considering a different kind of offence. Q was looking forward to it.
Danielle handed him his phone messages and arched an eyebrow to where Manjit was doing something with a soldering iron while Katherine scribbled equations out on a nearby whiteboard. Q could smell acetone and heated metal.
His phone pinged, according to Moneypenny, M was now aware of Q Branch's afternoon plans. Q looked up; every co-worker was now paying attention to him. He smiled minutely and extremely well-ordered chaos immediately descended. Desks were cleared and fire marshals were informed, the air conditioning was definitely working and metal shutters slammed down around the room though the doors remained free and unlocked. Q Branch was focused, not stupid.
Q clapped, feeling benevolent and fond as he presided over some of the country's best minds producing well-researched and constructed weapons, "One at a time. Marlowe?"
The afternoon passed in a haze of noise, striking smells and only one incident of Tanner banging on the door to signal that a particular cloud of smoke had made its way upstairs. Tanner liked to keep an eye on things from a safe distance and keep track of what money would be owed via the betting pool.
Katherine was acclaimed for her utilisation of bicycle spokes and tyre rubber though Jacob eeked out a victory thanks to his explosive compound that could apparently be baked like biscuits. Q reminded him to clearly label everything in the staff kitchen. Money was exchanged, Tanner disappeared back upstairs and the safety precautions were disabled for another day.
It wasn't long after that that the Q Branch emptied out – most people had pulled all-nighters recently thanks to Bosnia and had gotten everything urgent seen to once Q had let it be known what the afternoon would entail. Of course it was when Q was left to finish up a couple of reports that Bond made his move. Q had just received a text message from Agnetha to say that she'd be out of the country for several weeks when Bond appeared, out of the hallway's shadows as though that would make Q jump.
"Your record claims you're an orphan."
"I am," replied Q not looking up from his phone.
Bond stepped closer, "And yet I met your mother today."
"You did." Q glanced up. "Is there a point to these statements of the obvious, 007?"
Bond stared at him for a moment, Q stared right back. He was enjoying the view but he really did want to get his reports finished. He had an evening appointment to keep. He hadn't kept up with Dragon Age as much as he'd originally decided he would and today was definitely the day for it. Tomorrow he'd make a Skype call to Carolyn and probably end up buying more of the fresh coffee beans that she liked so much. Whenever he spoke to one of his siblings he was usually struck by the urge to have something around that singularly reminded him of them.
"Your mother must have very high clearance, taking up so much of M's 'valuable time'," was what Bond next chose to feint with.
Q let out an amused breath, tucked away his phone and resumed his typing. "She does."
He didn't say She always has done, for longer than I've been alive. Did you know she foiled an assassination attempt last year? Do you know how much doesn't get reported because of her? Because of us?
He didn't say you have no idea. He didn't say anything.
Bond leaned close and Q's typing didn't stutter. His heartrate kicked up though. Bond hadn't shaved in several days; there was a new scar just behind his right ear. Even after the many hours Q had spent with him in person and talking on comms, Bond was still distracting. He was still an anomaly.
"It always smells like gunpowder in here," Bond's voice was rich with amusement. "It suits you."
Q thought so too. He saved his report, his left hand tapping against the desk. He had a tattoo high up on his left arm, always covered of course; it was of an owl. Kiran wore the same design, they all did. Agnetha's was at her right hip.
Q breathed out and didn't explain why he was smiling. Bond really didn't have any idea just how unusual it was for one person to sustain Q's unfettered interest for so long and in such a fascinatingly unusual way too. Bond didn't have any idea how much of an anomaly Q himself was. Bond really didn't have any idea at all.
-the end