Title: History Lesson

Disclaimer: I own no rights, I make no profit.

Chapter 2 – Enemy Action?

Morning in Q-Branch on a normal day was only differentiated from the middle of the night by the number of folks working in the bullpen. Of course this was different during high threat levels or important missions in different time zones but we'd been in so called normal operations mode for a bit over a week. This was why I was standing at my work station teasing apart a particularly nasty little computer virus which had been caught by the firewall.

I was just about finished when the ambient noise level in the room suddenly dropped. That meant one of two things; either a member of management or a 00 on a post mission adrenaline high had entered the branch. I knew Mallory and Tanner were not in the building and 007 had returned late last night. I knew that none of other 00's were even in the same time zone so therefore I looked up from my coding.

I was surprised to observe my brother Mycroft sauntering across the branch floor umbrella, as always, in hand. One of these days I was going to have to steal it and see if it did indeed contain a blade in the shaft as I suspected it did. Given Mycroft's history and experience however it could just as well be a single shot pistol or even a rifle. I wouldn't be able to tell unless I got my hands on it. As he moved closer I got a better look at his face. He was worried and worse yet he was letting me see that he was worried. That meant the situation was, as John Watson liked say, a bit not good.

In my brother's wake I noticed a subtle exodus of unessential minions from the main room. Anyone who didn't absolutely have to be in the bullpen was finding an excuse to make themselves scarce. Those that remained seemed to all have sprouted earphones or headsets. One of the side effects of my kidnapping had been that most members of the branch now knew that Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes were my brothers. They also knew that if that particular familial connection was ever leaked Sherlock would deduce the source and Mycroft would rain down retribution. Of course that was only if I didn't figure it out first and enact my own revenge on the offending party.

The denizens of Q branch were anything but stupid. What you didn't hear you couldn't leak even inadvertently. All of which meant that by the time Mycroft reached my workstation we could have as private a conversation as one that occurred in my office. What remained to be seen was if the situation was high level enough to require additional security.

"Q," Mycroft acknowledged my title before he moved up onto the platform containing my workstation.

"Mr. Holmes," I replied just in case anyone happened to still be listening.

Mycroft placed a large yellow mailing envelope on my desk. He inclined his head at it meaning The contents should explain themselves.

I raised my eyebrows, looked puzzled and inquired mutely, Why do you bring this to me?

He sighed and his shoulders dropped slightly, Because none of my people can deal with this.

I brushed my fingers lightly across my keyboard, How important is this and how fast do you need it?

He dropped his habitual mask and I could see his apprehension. He was concerned but was unsure just how worried he needed to be. He also had no clue as to the next action he needed to take or if any action at all was necessary. I had rarely in my life seen him this unsure. He schooled his face again.

I laced my hands together and rested my chin on my extended index fingers, Can Sherlock help?

He rolled his eyes slightly, I'm not sure his talents are appropriate in this situation.

I glanced around the bullpen considering which missions were active and if any of them needed my complete attention.

Mycroft cleared his throat, I'm not asking you to leave your agents in the lurch.

I smiled slightly, As if I would for anything less than a national crisis. Before he could respond I touched the envelope lightly. I'll get on it and let you know what I find.

He nodded fractionally, Thank you little brother. Then he turned and strolled unhurriedly out of the branch.

I looked again at the unassuming envelope then decided to finish up what Mycroft had interrupted before looking at his problem. It didn't take me very long to determine that the virus author, who was already on our watch list, had made the jump from scrip-kiddie to journeyman hacker. I upped his threat level then on a hunch added a note to see if we could locate him. Well, I reminded myself, the hacker could be a her but statistically this type was more likely to be male so I paused and decided that I'd continue using the male pronoun until otherwise notified. If he kept going at this rate he'd be good enough to be dangerous in a year or so and I'd prefer to have eyes on well before that happened. Who knows he might be a potential recruit as an asset, agent or even Q branch staffer. I also sent a note to Spider indicating that he needed to leak the virus parameters to one or more of the software security companies so that they could take precautions before this one ended up in wide circulation. Task complete I shutdown my work station, grabbed the envelope and headed for my office.

I opened my locked office door only to find a slightly battered 007 asleep on my sofa. 00's coming down off a mission, injured or not, tended to behave like wounded animals. They'd find a secure den and hide until they were fit, fit to live with or both. Lately that den seemed to be either in my vicinity or somewhere they knew I, and only I, could watch. I'm not quite sure when it had happened but sometime over the last year those most dangerous, paranoid and damaged group of assassins had decided en masse that I meant both safe and home.

Bond didn't even twitch as I quietly shut the door. If it had been anyone else he'd have been up and combat ready in a heartbeat or two. I took a quick glance at his recumbent form careful not to stare which would cause him to wake Judging from his muscle tone, breathing pattern and heart rate he was going to be out for at least another 3 hours. I moved normally to my desk, knowing that stealth would also trigger wakefulness, and started in on what Mycroft had given me.

An indeterminate amount of time later James Bond's voice asked, "Why are you messing with the V&A's security systems?"

I wasn't terribly surprised that Bond had recognized that I was working on a security system schematic. I was interested that he'd managed to recognize the particular museum solely from the floor plan. Then again this was Bond, a man who could identify a map of subterranean London with a single glance. God only knew what other strange bits of information he had stored in his brain.

"Because they had a break in a couple of days ago and some artifacts went missing," I replied.

"Isn't that a bit below your pay grade?"

"Not when the thieves had something that intermittently jammed security sensors and cameras selectively."

"Some of the gear you've designed does that."

"Our stuff don't produce this sort of result," I looked up at him and added, "and I don't know anyone else's that would act like this either."

"So how did they go in?" Bond asked.

I proceeded to show him the series of sensor and camera failures in sequence.

"Well it looks like they only knew the general location of what they were after," was Bond's initial comment on viewing the sequence. He paused for a moment then added, "If I knew that my target was in Room 62 I'd have gone this way." He indicated a path with his finger, "unless…"

I cocked my head at him. Bond was clearly seeing something that I had missed.

"Can you display by sensor type?" he asked.

Mycroft's people had superimposed the security schematics over the generic floorplan map of the museum. The resulting CAD file originally only had a few layers; cameras on one, sensors on another and the floor plan on the third. His people had helpfully linked the camera feeds and sensor error messages to appropriate icons on the map. After I'd reviewed all the files I'd spent most of the last few hours adding additional layers and cross referencing various notes and technical information to particular sensors and cameras.

"What ones do you want?"

"The unaffected motion sensors to start with."

A few clicks and the indicated sensors were highlighted in green.

"Do you have coverage areas mapped for those motion sensors?"

I hadn't done that yet but given the technical specifications available I could make an educated guess. It wasn't too hard to fill in the appropriate coverage area in a lighter green shading using a new layer of the map program. I started with the ones along the path that the thieves took.

"This is just a rough estimate," I said as I continued to add areas for motion sensors along the route Bond had indicated. "If I really want to be accurate I'd need to have someone go determine the exact coverage of each sensor and figure out if there are any obscuring artifacts or displays."

"Hmmm," Bond was intently looking at the display over my shoulder. "What do you want to bet that there is something obscuring the sensors here, here, and here?"

I looked where he had indicated.

"I wouldn't take that bet."

It only took a few clicks to bring up the camera feed I had for one of the indicated rooms. I froze the picture before the camera feed had started to be disrupted. Sure enough there was a large armoire with a decorative top blocking part of the motion sensor's field of view.

"And here?" Bond pointed at a room on his preferred path.

It took a little searching. I had all of the camera feeds for the entire museum within an hour or so of the event but Mycroft's people had only linked the video from cameras that had been jammed. When I finally located it the result was a clear line of sight for the motion detector.

"I retract my initial statement," Bond said flatly. "They knew exactly where they were going and had an intimate knowledge of the security in place. This is your level of intel Q."

He was right. This was the detail that I liked to give the 00's if it was available and we had time to compile it. Whomever it was had taken the most direct path to room 62 while avoiding all the motion sensors with a clear field of view.

"So whatever technology they had doesn't work on motion sensors. Interesting."

My brain was running in circles attempting to ferret out a design with as limited a range as indicated by the failures which worked well on cameras, door and cabinet sensors but not motion detectors. As I was thinking Bond reached around me and commandeered the mouse. I started to move out of his way only to find that he'd neatly hedged me in, one hand resting on the edge of the desk while he worked the computer with the other hand. I wasn't quite sure what to do but my body reflexively relaxed into the almost embrace. It seemed that subconsciously I associated 007 with security. Now wasn't that interesting. I shouldn't have been surprised given the fact that 007 had taken it upon himself to be part of not only my rescue but also my recovery from the kidnapping incident.

Bond stopped looking at sensor specifications and moved back. For some strange reason I felt a little disappointed.

"If you exclude the cameras," he remarked, "the only sensor that couldn't be overcome with something as simple as a magnet was the one on the outside door."

I had a thought and brought up the repair history of that sensor. As I had remembered, that sensor had been swapped out the very next day after the break-in due to failure to reset properly.

"Thank you 007."

"So what are you going to investigate next?" he asked.

"I'm going to link all the camera feeds from the rooms next to the path they used and see if there is anything to see."

I half expected Bond to ask why I would be doing such menial work as opposed to assigning it to one of my minions. The answer, of course, would have been security. The real answer was that I wasn't comfortable given Mycroft's demeanor with letting this information out of my direct control.

"Ah," Bond said instead, "Shadows, reflections in surfaces and the like."

"If I'm lucky I might catch a reflection which I can digitally enhance," I replied.

"I'll leave you to that."

Bond stretched then moved to the sofa reaching down to grab something on the floor. At that point I realized the man was barefoot lacking even socks. For some strange reason it struck me as even more intimate than applying plasters or bandages to his half-naked form; a task which I had performed more than once. I blushed and was thankful for the dim light in my office. It might just hide my reaction. Bond sauntered toward the door, detouring slightly to run a finger across the back of my neck. I heard him chuckle under his breath. Crap. I'd been caught. There was nothing else I could do. I turned my full attention to the task at hand.

"Don't work too hard Q," his voice held a hint of a smile as he exited.

A bit later as I finished looking at a camera feed I grabbed my mug and took a sip. Perfect. I made a mental note to figure out which of my staff had managed to get my tea exactly right. That was when my brain reminded me of my current location. I was in my office, working on a classified project. Tea should not have appeared.

I stared at the mug in my hand and noticed that there was a plate on my desk. From the pattern of crumbs it had held a sandwich. Not only that, the sandwich had been cut up into bite-sized pieces. I didn't recall having eaten anything. I must have done so since there were crumbs on my jumper. I looked at the time on my computer screen. 6 hours had elapsed since Mycroft had first walked into the branch. So where the heck had the tea and sandwich come from?

There was a low chuckle and I turned. James Bond was again sitting on my sofa with one hand on my e-reader. He looked rather pleased with himself. The expression on my face must have been interesting because the chuckle gave way to a laugh.

"What?"

Bond smiled, "It was a good thing I was off mission. The minions told me that when you dive into a project like that you tend to forget necessary things like eating and sleeping. When you do so in your office they can't even hydrate you properly. They get worried."

"And what else did my staff tell you?"

"Nothing much, they merely expressed the opinion that it was almost impossible to get you to eat when you were in the zone so to speak." Bond looked thoughtful, "I'll have to let them know that it's a matter of size and placement. I may not be here the next time you do this."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that statement so I said the first thing that popped into my head.

"If you think I'm bad you should see Sherlock. He practically goes catatonic when he is thinking hard."

"I'm aware," Bond chuckled. "You at least retain a modicum of peripheral awareness. If I put a cup of tea or finger food within your reach you tend to eat and drink automatically. That doesn't even mention the fact that your normal modus-operandi is to multitask rather than fully focus on anything specific. It's what makes you so effective on mission coms."

Once again I wasn't sure how exactly to respond. Luckily I didn't have to.

"You find anything? You were making frustrated noises under your breath when I left to refill your tea."

"Nothing much," I admitted. "The camera in 62 died before the outside door was breached. It is the only camera that never came back on line. The damage looked like something caused by a power surge but a surge strong enough to do that amount of damage would have taken out everything in the entire building. I'll need to take a look at the damage physically to see if there is anything else."

"And?"

"There was a light source in room 62 just after the camera fried. It started low got brighter over several minutes and then was steady until the thieves reached the room."

"You think something was left in the room to cause the light and the camera failure?"

"Not sure. I'm going to see if I can match the spectrum to see if it was something special or just an incandescent bulb," I replied.

"Given the professionalism so far I doubt you are going to find anything special," Bond commented. "I bet the light was nothing more than a signal. I've done that before myself. A motion sensor and a time delay. Security goes by triggering the sensor and 2 minutes later a light turns on that I can see from outside. I'd done my homework and knew the guard wouldn't be back on that side of the complex for at least 45 minutes. Easy in, easy out."

In all probability Bond was correct. In fact I could jury rig a rather simple system which would do just that with commonly available consumer products. The whole thing would be as small as a stapler and plug into a wall outlet.

"Hm," I grunted and nodded. "I think you are correct they were professionals who had done their homework. They were very aware of not only the limits of the technology but also the locations of cameras and sensors in all the adjoining rooms. I didn't find anything in reflective surfaces or even off the high gloss furniture. The only thing I've found so far was a flash of something off a silver and crystal vase. I was just about to enhance it when I became distracted," I waived my tea at him and took another sip.

"So let's see it," said Bond standing up.

I turned back to my computer and brought up the appropriate set of frames I'd isolated. I fiddled with the images a bit with no luck. There was nothing but 5 or so seconds of a bright green blur.

Bond said sarcastically, "Well that's helpful."

I nodded in agreement.

"If you didn't have that smear of green as part of a digital image I'd put it up as a concussion artifact," he continued.

"Excuse me?"

"Remember the Marrakesh mission when I showed up at your flat?"

I remembered alright. Bond had been injured and I'd been retrieving the first aid kit when my hallucination had shown up. I'd first seen the blob that initially looked somewhat like a rabbit when I'd been kidnapped by my ex-boyfriend from uni. I'd been drugged off my arse at the time and given that the rabbit shaped blob had morphed into a very naked male fairy I'd chalked it up to a drug artifact. I'd never told anyone but I'd seen it a number of times since; sometimes as just a flash of green, others times as the vaguely rabbit like shape but never again as the fairy. Given the propensity of some narcotics to linger in fat cells I had figured that it was just after effects of the drugs especially since the frequency had declined precipitously over time. In fact, after the Marrakesh mission was the last time I'd seen it and also the first time I'd questioned whether it really was a hallucination. The reason? Bond had joked that unless I'd spilled paint that he most likely had a concussion because he was seeing green blobs around the flat. Now that Bond had mentioned the incident I realized that the green blur reflected off the vase was the exact same shade as my hallucination.

"Interesting," I replied thinking furiously.

I'd done some research and investigation since that time and not come up with much. Most of what I'd found was medical or some sort of synesthesia both of which I'd ruled out due to Bond's observation. The other alternative had been tied up in new-age paranormal psudo-science. I'd kept a set of search parameters running on the internet to see if anyone else had a similar experience but nothing even remotely comparable had turned up. Just then I remembered something else.

"You know," I remarked, "that's also very similar in color to the time we had a catastrophic camera failure in lab 6. I wonder if it's an artifact of particular electrical components shorting out?"

Bond snorted, "Not unless my head was shorting out that time." He shook his head and added jokingly echoing part of the old intelligence analyst's maximum, "Well between my concussion and your camera failure officially we should label that green blur as a coincidence!"

No Mr. Bond, I thought to myself. If you add in my hallucinations it's clearly enemy action.

Author's Note: Not dead! As is my custom I'm writing on later chapters and when I finish I go back and post an earlier one. Unfortunately Sherlock sat down on me and proceeded to veto every idea my muse put forward alternatively saying "no," "boring" and occasionally "idiot." Fortunately John eventually intervened and allowed my muse to get another chapter typed out.