It had been several weeks since his meeting with Mycroft and Bond was still comprehending the fact Q had a life outside of MI-6 and his lab, and that his name was Felix. Q had stopped being annoyed when Bond called him by his name in a slightly mocking tone of voice, instead becoming mildly unamused.
It was one of their rare Sunday's off, he and Q lounging around the flat. Bond would sit in his armchair, Mayhew sprawled over his lap sleeping, a book in hand whilst Q took delight in "Mythbusters day" on the Discovery Channel. It was nice and relaxing, explosions only happening on the TV and Mayhew purring quietly, covering Bond in grey hair. A knock on the door interrupted their quiet time, Q huffing out a sigh and pushing his laptop to the side. Bond watched him walk over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open, frowning when his lover's shoulder's slouched.
"Afternoon Mycroft."
Bond smirked, turning back to his book as he heard Q's older brother wander into the flat.
"Afternoon, Felix, not a bad time I hope? Oh James, hello."
"Hello, Mycroft."
"What do you want?" Q sighed, shutting the door, taking Mycroft's jacket and umbrella. Mycroft chuckled, stepping round to the front of the sofa, looking around like it was his first time in Q's flat.
"Have I come at a bad time?"
"Not particularly, but still, what do you want?"
Q walked back over to the sofa, picking up his laptop and sitting down, muting the telly. Mycroft took one last look around before sitting himself.
"I thought I'd come have a talk with my youngest brother. Check in on how he's doing."
"You came to snoop."
"Not at all, I came to talk."
Q sighed, closing the lid of his laptop, giving Mycroft a pointed look. "What's he done?"
Bond looked up. "Who?"
"Our middle brother, Sherlock," Mycroft smirked, pulling a grey hair from his jacket. "He's refusing to visit for Christmas, mother, as you can guess, is distraught."
Q rolled his eyes, standing up to put his laptop away. "And I suppose you want me to go talk to him? He listens to me just as much as he listens to you."
"Now you know that's a lie, Felix. Sherlock couldn't hate anyone more than he hates me; and he actually quite likes you, remember all those wonderful times as children?"
"I remember the time he tried to lobotomise me with a pen."
"Go talk with him, please. For mother. If he says no he says no, but at least we tried. Take your flashy boy-toy, you might perk his interest."
Bond scowled. "Boy-toy?"
Mycroft smiled bitterly. "No offence."
"I'd rather not take James to meet Sherlock, I'd rather he not be subjected to our brother's… quirks. Tea?"
"Oh please. And Sherlock's really calmed down as of late, it seems the Doctor has had a good effect on him."
Mycroft pulled himself from the sofa, following Q to the kitchen. Bond rolled his eyes, putting his book down and looking for ways to shift Mayhew without getting a nasty scratch. With an angry growl, Mayhew leapt from Bond's lap with a sharp shove, and Bond followed the brother's through to the kitchen, brushing the hairs from his lap, wandering in mid-conversation
"Are they even together?"
"Lord knows what their relationship is. Perhaps you could find out. Ah James, fancy a cup?"
"Um, no, I have some scotch. Q, you have another brother?"
Q smiled sadly, reaching into the cupboard behind Mycroft's head, pulling out Bond's scotch and a glass. "Yes, Sherlock. The more difficult of us."
Mycroft chuckled. "When you meet him he may alarm you but that's just his nature. Don't let anything he says upset you, he's not very good with people's emotions and handling them."
"James isn't meeting Sherlock," Q grumbled, passing a glass of scotch to Bond. Bond smirked.
"Why not?"
"Please, don't do this. Drink your scotch and go sit with the cat."
Mycroft laughed, stirring some sugar into his tea. "Now now, Felix, if James wants to meet Sherlock then let him. John will always be there to assist."
Bond looked puzzled again. "John?"
"Sherlock's partner. I would say he's perfectly sane but he seems to actually enjoy the company of our brother so… Who knows, really."
"Partner… Business or romantic?"
Q smirked around his mug, lifting his shoulders into a shrug. "We don't know. They work together, and live together, and they certainly love each other…"
"John insists he's straight, and proves it with failing relationships which barely make it past one date. And Sherlock is an enigma. No one knows his preferences, or even if he has them… He likes John though."
Bond nodded slowly, taking a quick sip of his drink. The three men stood in an awkward silence, sipping at their drinks, sharing awkward looks. Bond caved first, draining his glass and reaching for the bottle.
"I'll go drink with the cat, leave you two to catch up."
"I can't believe you talked me in to this," Q grumbled, hitting the door knocker to 221b Baker Street against the door. Bond just smiled, his hands tucked neatly in his pockets. There was a shuffling behind the door before it was pulled open by an old lady, her face lighting up at the sight of them.
"Felix! Lovely to see you again! It's been too long!"
Q managed a smile, letting himself be pulled into a hug. "Well, you can blame your tenants for that, Mrs Hudson."
"You hush, I won't hear you say anything against my Sherlock. Anyway, come in, come in. Is this handsome man with you?"
Q finally smiled fully, reaching out to take Bond's arm. "This is James. He's my… well… Yes. He's with me."
Mrs Hudson's smile widened, reaching out to pull him into an embrace. "Wonderful to meet you, James, I'm Mrs Hudson, Sherlock and John's landlady. You two go on up. Would you like some tea? I'm afraid Sherlock's out at the moment, but John's in."
Bond smirked up at Q, following him through the narrow hallway and up the stairs, Mrs Hudson chatting on behind them. When they finally got to the right floor, Q didn't even bother knocking on the door, instead walking straight in.
"We have visitors!" Mrs Hudson called out, ushering Bond further into the room. A shorter man in a wool jumper appeared from the kitchen, grinning and marching up to Q.
"I'd hurry up and leave if I were you, he'll be back any minute."
Q laughed, giving the man the awkward hug and pat on the back combo, before motioning to Bond. "This is James Bond, James, this is Doctor John Watson."
Watson took a few steps towards Bond, offering his hand. "Fantastic to meet you. You know Felix, huh?"
Bond smirked, shaking Watson's hand. "Yes. I know him quite intimately."
"Oh? …Oh! Right. Um, great."
Q rolled his eyes, slipping his coat off and hanging it up. "So, when will he be back?"
"Honestly, any minute. Unless he happened across a corpse on the way home. Why are you here, exactly?"
"Mycroft has set me with the task of getting Sherlock to join us for Christmas. I know this meeting is pointless, but if it'll get Mycroft off my back, then… I'll go help Mrs Hudson with the tea."
Q slipped into the kitchen, leaving John and James smiling awkwardly at each other. John suddenly jumped, motioning to the armchairs.
"Sit, please."
Bond nodded, taking a look around, frowning at the yellow face spray-painted at the wall, and the surrounding bullet-holes. Everything seemed to be dusty, even if it wasn't. Watson sat in the opposite armchair, casually looking around the room. The silence dragged on, until there was suddenly a door slamming shut downstairs and the sound of footsteps coming closer.
"He's here," John mumbled, shuffling back in his chair. A tall man burst through into the living room, his black coat swishing behind him. He came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Bond, slowly beginning to take off his scarf.
"New case?"
"Nope. This is James. Your new case is in the kitchen."
The man eyed Bond suspiciously as he edged towards the kitchen, sighing loudly and throwing his scarf on to the back of John's chair. John chuckled, turning in his seat.
"I knew he'd make you talk to me, why must you and Mycroft always gang up on me?"
Q rolled his eyes, marching out of the kitchen, two cups of tea in his hand. "It's hardly ganging up, Sherlock. And perhaps if you weren't so difficult I wouldn't have to be here."
Sherlock eyed his brother suspiciously, occasionally flicking towards Bond as Q perched himself on the arm of his chair, passing him one of the cups. "I'm not being difficult, Felix, I simply don't wish to spend the holidays with our family. I still can't understand why you would want to."
"It makes mother happy, and if mother's happy she's not phoning me up constantly."
"Anyway who's this? This backup you've brought."
Q snorted, taking a quick sip of his tea. "This is James Bond. Orphaned at eleven, ex-Navy Commander, current double-oh agent for MI-6. Does suffer from P-T-S-D though reluctant to admit it, he is — or was — prone to a string of affairs with women on missions that never went past sex and yes, we are sleeping together. Before you do any of that analysing crap you do."
John smirked around his own cup of tea, whilst Bond and Sherlock gawked awkwardly at Q. Sherlock finally scoffed, folding his arms defiantly over his chest.
"I can go into much more detail than that."
"Please don't. I'll tell Mycroft you decline the offer of Christmas; we'll just finish our tea and be on our way."
"Now now, let's not be hasty, little brother. I may yet change my mind on Christmas… Will James be going?"
Everyone turned to look at Bond, who still had a slight look of bewilderment. Bond shrugged, looking up at Q.
"There's just three of you? No more crazy brothers I need to know of?"
Q smirked. "Just us, and mother."
"Fine, I'll go."
Sherlock nodded, leaning against Watson's chair. "So how long have you two been… seeing each other?"
"A few months."
"And you work together?"
"We do."
"It's not awkward?"
"No."
"No worrying about if he'll come home from a mission alive?"
"Every time."
John and James shared a bored look, sipping quietly at their tea whilst the brothers sniped questions and answers at each other.
"I'm not telling you any more, Sherlock. If you wish to get to know James you can do so with the rest of the family at Christmas. I assume you'll be coming too, John?"
John shrugged. "Probably. I suppose James here could use a friendly face when you three start on each other."
"Well, it's about time you met mother, Mycroft has been telling her all about you."
"What has he been saying?"
Q smirked, finished his tea and placing it down on the table. "Just the usual."
"Oh for God's sake, I'm not gay!"
"Do be quiet, John," Sherlock snapped, marching into the kitchen. Q shot Bond a quick smirk, following his brother into the kitchen. Bond and Watson fell into another awkward silence as they tried to listen to what was being said in the kitchen.
"So… MI-6, huh?"
Bond nodded, drumming his fingers on his thigh. "Yeah."
"How long have you been with them?"
Bond shrugged. "A long time… I don't know any more."
"Dangerous?"
"Extremely."
Watson nodded, playing with the handle of his mug for something to focus on. Q suddenly marched from the kitchen, grabbing his coat.
"Come along, Bond. John, it was a pleasure, we'll see you at Christmas."
Bond hurried to grab his coat and awkwardly shake hands with Watson, debating between shaking hands with Sherlock too. Sherlock suddenly stuck out his hand, a blank stare on his face.
"I'll be seeing you again soon, Mr Bond. Take care."
Bond nodded, quickly taking his hand from Sherlocks. "You too. Goodbye."
Q hurried Bond down the stairs, shouting a quick goodbye to Mrs Hudson before they bundled out, back onto the street. Bond draped his arm over Q's shoulder, pulling him into his chest as they began walking.
"So is it just a family trait of yours? To be bloody weird?"
Q chuckled, snaking his arm around Bond's waist. "No. We're all vastly intelligent with a number of social problems. Sherlock for example is a high functioning sociopath."
"Oh… What about you?"
"I'm just awkward."
