::How bad would his theoretical knowledge of your furthering connection be?::
Q leaned back in his chair, studying the ceiling. It was silent and almost dark in Q branch, it being the middle of the night, close to two a.m., and all non-relevant personnel had long since gone home. The few night owls were handlers or specialists who were needed for a particular mission, but the nine-to-five office workers were home.
Right now he was alone. Completely.
And even if there had been someone there, the conversation wasn't audible for prying ears. There were advantages to being a technopath.
::I don't know:: he now sighed, still studying the white-washed, curving brick ceiling. ::It's just… Bond is someone very special. In so many ways. The fact that he is a phoenix is beyond top secret and eyes-only. Our connection is right there with it. Now we…::
::You evolved, Q::
Harold Finch sounded calm and composed, maybe a little amused. Ever since the werewolf incident that had MI6 cooperate with the CIA, Q and Finch had become the preternatural version of email buddies. They talked, exchanged information that was deemed safe for them both, and sometimes bounced ideas off the other. Finch was a challenging man for Q and he enjoyed their conversations. Especially when it came to programming and codes.
Finch was a cipher, a preternatural that could be seen as a variation of a technopath. Where Q was able to access all things electronic or technological, Finch was a superb code-writer, able to create something unique that only he could ever understand, because of his abilities. Q was convinced the man was capable of a lot more, that he could use The Machine in ways no one would ever be able to track, but Finch was reluctant to dive so deeply into what he was.
Maybe with the slowly developing relationship between him and Reese would come a trust that only John Reese could inspire. Q had called Reese a connector and that was what Finch needed. Not an anchor, because he wasn't that strong, but someone he trusted, someone he could rely on to be there should he falter. For a technopath there was only one anchor, for a cipher, anyone he trusted could be a connector.
Too bad that Harold had a lot of trust issues.
Enter John Reese. Q was convinced they were getting where they needed to be, emotionally, physically and preternaturally. It just took time.
He pulled himself out of his thoughts.
::Yes, we evolved and there is nothing I can use for reference, Finch. It's… annoying.::
The soft chuckle had him smile in turn. ::Tell me about it::
Ah. Those four words were more revealing than an amateur youtube video.
::Considering that so few people know about you and 007, it might prove vital one day that one of them knows how both of you are influenced by the connection you share:: Finch stated reasonable. ::He is also your boss, someone who has kept this secret a secret, and someone who leaves you a lot of freedom::
Too true.
Q sighed and played with one of his pens. ::Yes:: he reluctantly agreed. ::Quite possible the best outcome::
::Any contact?:: Finch asked calmly.
::No. It's hardly alarming::
::Have you run your own search?::
::Again, no. I might be 007's only handler, but I have a job outside of baby-sitting him:: the quartermaster replied evenly. ::I can't while away my day going through a myriad of images in the hope of finding a pixel of him. If he has to hide, he has his reasons::
Finch chuckled again. ::And you are running automated programs anyway::
Q refused to blush, caught. ::Well, yes::
Their conversation then turned to something Finch and Reese had been working on, finally ending around 3 a.m. Q packed his things and went home, the streets silent and dark, barely a soul outside.
He came into an empty flat, but it didn't really bother him. He had never needed a constant presence physically there for him. That Bond tended to drift into his place – their place – was normal. He kept his own place for appearances and to store his own belongings, but he slept and ate and actually lived with Q.
It was… normal. Never routine, because nothing with James Bond was routine. But it was nice. It was casual and still permanent. It was solely between them.
Q dropped his keys in the bowl, hung up his coat, switched on the lights – muted – and checked his network. Nothing new, no important emails, and the usual blogs and chats held no interest. He nuked leftovers from the night before and had a very late – or early – dinner. It was almost four when he finally crashed. Tomorrow was Saturday and he wouldn't be required to come in.
He would go anyway since there was nothing else to do right now, but not before he had caught up on some sleep.
x X XX xx X XX xxxx X XX x
Q arrived at MI6 around eleven, freshly shaved and showered. He was looking through reports, checking new coding, sorting through a dozen applications for new or improved weaponry, and writing a few comments in emails to those developers who had finished their projects.
Part of him was inside the MI6 network, listening in on the handlers currently in contact with their agents or looking at his network and deciding if he needed to run an unplanned security sweep.
Routine.
Keeping him busy.
There was nothing else to do right now.
The routine was interrupted around four in the afternoon when 002 called in and required assistance. Q took the call, handled it calmly and professionally, and routed the required resources. He cracked a not too complicated security code for the Double-Oh and arranged a quick getaway.
002 shot him a quick 'thank you' through the ether before he switched off his comm. Q only smiled.
My pleasure, he thought.
And he refused to worry about his own agent.
x X XX xx X XX xxxx X XX xx X XX xx X XX xxxx X XX xx X XX xx X XX xxxx X XX xx X XX xx X XX xxxx X XX xx X XX xx X XX xxxx X XX xx X XX xx X XX xxxx X XX x
The Double-Ohs kept appearing in Q branch more and more within the next thirty-six hours. 004 was the first to drop by and hand over her gun and gadgets. Q checked everything and gave her a brief nod, which she answered with a smile.
"Any word from your partner?" she asked casually.
"No."
"Well, sounds just like Bond. He likes to go under."
Q raised an eyebrow.
004 leaned in closer. She was a beautiful woman. Beautiful and deadly, like a giant cat, like a poisonous snake, and like all her Double-Oh colleagues she could easily prove that it wasn't just looks.
Now she was smiling warmly. It wasn't playfully intimate, but intimate nevertheless. Her green eyes were filled with something Q refused to interpret as caring and worried. Double-Ohs didn't worry about the head of Q branch, only themselves, their missions, maybe their handlers.
"He hasn't displayed that particular talent in a while. About a year, I'd say." She winked.
Q refused to fall for it.
He logged in 004's weaponry and comm. device, then looked up.
"Anything I can do for you, 004?"
"Lunch?" she offered pleasantly.
He blinked. "Pardon?"
"You. Me. Lunch."
Another blink. Confusion raced through him. "Lunch?"
"And here he said you were one of the brightest kids in this office," she sighed. "Lunch. Food. They have chicken today. There's also a very nice Italian place that delivers."
"Uhm…"
004 smiled brightly, not the least bit offended by his hesitation. "Think about it. I know for a fact that 001 is coming back today and he still owes me lunch. Come join us if you want."
Q watched her walk out of Q branch, still confused.
It didn't help that 008 called in not much later, making small talk as he waited for a program to run. He talked sports, TV programs and favorite movies, then Q led him easily through the removal of a valuable hard drive from a captured laptop, circumventing the self-destruct.
It was a change in his routine and aside from watching things blow up in the experimental labs, the most interesting part of the day.
"Got it," 008 said and the smile was audible. "Thanks, Q."
"Any time, 008. Be safe."
x X XX xx
Lunch came and went. Q stayed at the shooting range and tried out a few long-range rifles, feeling rather good afterwards. 001 appeared after his first hour of testing new weaponry, looking impressed and just slightly itchy to try out the new rifles himself. Unlike Bond though, he was able to show restraint.
Q wasn't without mercy – unless it came to Bond, who was a nightmare and didn't deserve sneak peeks. He pushed off the ear protection as he walked over to where 001 hovered.
"Welcome home, 001," he greeted the man.
It got him a bright smile. "Thanks. Should have stayed away, though. 004 made me pay for lunch."
Q smiled a little to himself. "So I heard."
He quickly checked the Double-Oh's schedule and found that he had already been to see M and Tanner for debriefing. So he held out the latest of toys to 001.
The agent raised his eyebrows. "Is it my birthday?"
"Not for another 97 days."
It got Q a laugh. "Of course you would know."
Q raised an eyebrow. 001 took the rifle and checked it, making appreciative noises as Q explained the basics.
Then he went on the shooting range.
x X XX xx X XX xxxx X XX x
When Q returned to his work desk he found a plastic bag from an Italian restaurant with the catching name Italo. Inside was lunch, with a note tagged to it.
'Someone has to keep you fed. 004.'
He smiled and sat down, strangely touched.
It was also very good pasta Alfredo style.
tbc...