The next time that Damien sees Bond, months have passed and he had basically forgotten about the agent since he was given several large projects he had to work with some others on. He's working late one evening, finding it easier to push computer updates and work on the servers when there's basically no one around to use them. Standing at his work bench against one wall, another monitor mounted on the wall that he glances up at.
Well aware that he's alone, when Damien feels someone come up behind him, he turns quickly with a box cutter in hand, that being the only sharp object he has on his bench at the moment. A screwdriver really won't do much damage.
Working on instinct, when he sees a blade coming toward him, Bond grabs Damien's wrist, twists and spins the younger man, ending up with him pinned against the edge of the desk with his arm twisted behind his back. Taking the blade from him, 007 takes a deep breath. "Well, that gets the adrenaline going. What the bloody hell were you thinking?" He asks as he takes the box cutter away and closes it up before he leans against the younger man's back a little in order to put it down on the desk.
"Get off me." Damien says in a cold voice, though he was a little surprised that it was not only Bond, but that he was disarmed so easily. He doesn't like giving Bond his back like this, and neither does he enjoy being trapped.
This is not the sort of impression that Bond wanted to make, so he quickly releases the boffin and steps back, turning to retrieve the box he dropped on the floor in order to defend himself. "My apologies. Coming at a double-oh with a weapon triggers survival instincts." He muses as he looks back at Damien with a slight smile. "Lucky this isn't that breakable." The agent notes as he holds out the box toward Damien. Even if the boffin has managed to forget about him, 007 certainly has not forgotten about the mysterious young man who wouldn't even give his name. If anything, the mystery has made him even more unforgettable.
"Perhaps you should consider not sneaking up on people, then." Damien says in a cold tone as he straightens his clothes and rubs his shoulder a little. A small glance is given to the box. "Did you bring me back a souvenir, 007, or is this a piece of equipment I'm going to have to fix?" He as skeptically and with some disdain in his voice.
Shrugging a shoulder unapologetically, Bond pushes the box toward Q again. "Not equipment. I have a feeling that repairing things so mundane would be below your pay grade." He says thoughtfully as he looks at Damien.
Finally giving in to his curiosity, Damien slides the box over, slowly opening it to peek inside. Eyebrows lifting in surprise, the young man looks over at the agent for a moment before pulling out a tin of quality Earl Grey tea, and then a small glass tea pot that appears to be made for loose-leaf tea. "Well." Clearing his throat in surprise, the brunette continues, "Earl Grey, my favorite. You've done your research." He tries for nonchalant, but it's been a while since anyone paid enough attention to something as mundane as what he drinks, to buy him something so thoughtful. In fact, it's been an even longer time since anyone bought him anything at all.
"Not really. When I was in here before to save you from that propeller, I noticed the mug, and the way you smelled of it. That bloody sweater you have on now smells of it. Someone like that really enjoys his Earl Grey." Bond points out, again showing why he is an excellent agent. And that he paid close attention in their last encounter.
The tea is examined for a moment before he places it gingerly back into the box with the teapot. "Thank you, 007. As for repairing equipment, that is part of my job here at Q-branch, and nothing is too mundane. I may not be excited about such work, but it is my job." He states matter-of-factly. "Is that all?" He asks as he glances over at Bond, trying not to pay too much attention to the man. He doesn't want to encourage the double-oh to go digging into his life, or pay any more attention to him than he already is. It'll be bad enough if it gets around that an agent – any agent – is paying special attention to Damien. Still, the gift was thoughtful and he is a bit touched by it. He plans to give that little teapot a prized place in his kitchen at home. Too much of a chance of it getting damaged in this section of Q-branch.
Learning from last time he tried to touch the young boffin, James merely steps a little closer, smiling a little in what is usually perceived as a somewhat seductive way. "Come now, don't be so cold." He says, frustrated that he still doesn't know the younger man's name. "It's late, you should be headed home. At the very least you could thank me by telling me your name. Or better yet you could let me take you out for a drink." 007 drops his voice toward the end, a little suggestively.
Damien glances at the agent beside him, then just snorts as he meets his gaze for a moment. "No." He states succinctly, already knowing that he doesn't want to tell the man his name or go anywhere with him. "Even if I were looking for a relationship, I would not seek something like that at work, much less with an agent. Your lives are dangerous enough. You don't need to be distracted and I don't need the grief." His tone is clipped and even, but there's an undercurrent of real concern there, either for 007's well being, or his own.
"You surprise me. But if you won't go for a drink, why not just tell me your name instead? I could look up your personnel file, but I'd rather hear it from your lips." Bond is enjoying this game, trying to ruffle the young man's feathers at least a little. He's so controlled and self-contained that any sort of reaction he could get out of him would be a triumph on his part.
"No." Damien states again, before he adds, "Only a few are able to access the personnel files, and you are not one of them." He says dismissively as he picks up a few parts and begins to assemble them, leaning over a little to take a better look as he uses a small screwdriver to secure the pieces.
Shaking his head for a few moments and straightening to look at the boffin, his tousled hair, the curve of his neck and the thinness of his shoulders. "Don't worry. I have plenty of time, and more resources than you give me credit for. If you won't tell me, I'll just have to find another way." He says confidently, before he smiles slightly. "I'll wager I'll know it by the time we see each other next."
"20 pounds, then." Damien says without looking up from what he was doing.
"Excuse me?" Bond asks in surprise, having just been using a figure of speech but suddenly Damien is making it so much more interesting.
Straightening after gently putting his project down on the desk, Damien turns slowly to face the slightly taller agent, arching an eyebrow at him. "You heard me. Perhaps Medical should take a look at your hearing." Perhaps it's dangerous to poke a sleeping bear but the young man is a little miffed that Bond comes in here so self-assured, flirting and acting entitled as he is.
Chuckling as he straightens and looks down at the boffin, Bond nods a little. "20 pounds that I'll know your name by the next time we see each other." He agrees as he looks at him. "Good luck." He says as he steps back and then turns away to head toward the door with a slight smirk.
"Let the games begin." Damien says casually before he turns back to his project, casually finishing it as Bond exits the room before he returns to his little closet and computer room, making sure that the personnel files really are secure. Of course, there is always the chance that someone else might tell Bond his name, so the young man sends out an email and physical memo from Q, explaining that questions from Bond about personnel, no matter how inane, are not to be answered. It explains that such information is restricted and the agent has no need of that information, that they are worried the agent might be fixating which might put him in danger on missions.
Perhaps it is a little devious and he realizes that he might get in trouble for it, but the young genius is determined to keep Bond away from the information, not for the money so much, but because he dislikes the arrogance the man has. He's bothersome and no other agents or double-ohs have taken an interest in Q-branch like Bond has. Damien might want to be noticed by M, Q and maybe even R, in order to further his career, he is perfectly content to be unnoticed by everyone else.
~oOo~
It doesn't take long before Q finds out about the memo the next day when another member of Q-branch asks him about it. And from there it's easy for the older man to figure out who had the skill and the desire to send that message, so he heads toward his youngest employee's 'closet' as he's heard it called.
"Damien, may I have a word?" Q asks as he stands in the doorway. "Would you like to explain this?" he asks as he holds out a copy of the memo to the young man.
Glancing up in surprise when his boss enters the room, Damien adjusts his glasses for a moment before he glances down at the paper and he nods. "007 seems quite fixated on me. Specifically in attaining my name, and likely any other information. My personnel files are safe, but people are less predictable than machines. I apologize, Q, but I didn't think his attentions were appropriate, and they are certainly unwanted." He explains, though he doesn't seem all that apologetic as he looks from the paper back to Q. Feeling a little guilty, he finally admits. "And.. I may have bet him 20 pounds that he wouldn't know my name by the time he saw me again.
Q really does try to look disapproving of his subordinate, but he can't help but smile a little. "I see. I'll go along with your memo this time, Damien. But next time if you begin to have trouble with any agents, come to see me first. Bond has ruined quite a bit of equipment so far, and made more work for all of you. So lets hope that you win that bet." He says in a firm tone.
Damien nods a little, ducking his head and looking down at the ground. He's a little embarrassed and he does feel bad about it since Q has been a good boss and is someone that the young man aspires to be. "Of course, sir. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you first." he says with a small nod of his head before he looks back up at the older man.
"Yes, well. No harm done this time. Sometimes it's good to put a double-oh in their place. Remember that." Q muses with a smile that says he knows more than he's letting on. Slowly, he turns around and heads back to the main workshop, making sure that everyone understands the seriousness of the memo and that no information is to be given out, even names.
~oOo~
Bond is not happy. When he made the wager with the boffin in Q-branch, he figured that it would be an easy win. Surely he could use his charms to figure it out from people. He never doubted that the files would be as in accessible as the brunette claimed they would be. It seems as if that would be an easy thing for him to assure. The human element was where he thought he had the edge. Unfortunately it seems they are all conspiring against him, refusing to speak of anyone.
Since he has to return to return his equipment anyway, Bond stops by Q's office to figure out the source of Q-branch's rebellion, but also to avoid the R&D department. He hasn't yet been able to get the name he needs and therefore wouldn't win a bet just yet. And he sorely wishes to win.
"Q." Bond says with a slightly fond smile for the older man, stepping forward with a small box that has the remains of his equipment in it.
"Of all the double-ohs, you are the worst with your equipment, Mr. Bond. Why is that?" Q asks as he takes the box from the man and sighs as he sees the state of everything inside..
James smirks a little for a few moments. "I also have the highest success rate. Perhaps there is a correlation there." He says innocently enough. "Your people are vexing me, Q, and I was wondering if you might be able to shed a light onto why. I'm looking for simple information." He says as he looks at the older man skeptically.
Q merely smirks a little with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Yes, so I've heard. That young man will go far in this place. He has desire and drive. He has a past like all of us and one that I respect." He says as he looks at Bond. "If he does not want to tell you about himself, that is his issue, and not my place to interfere. You should know better, 007. Perhaps you should try not being a blunt weapon for once. Your persuasion techniques are becoming well known. Have you never heard the phrase, 'You'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar'?" He asks curiously as he looks at the older man, looking through the equipment with a slight tick sound of disappointment.
Arching an eyebrow as he listens to his Quartermaster, James smirks a little. "Are you suggesting I use my charms on one of your boffins?" He asks with a bit of amusement, crossing his arms to regard the other man.
"Hardly not. You are too distracting to my entire department." Q's tone is sharp as he looks back at the man. "I suggest you lose your little bet. Yes, I know about that as well." He says when he sees the surprised look from 007. "Not everything has to be done in a day. If you wish for that man to open up and become less of a mystery, then patience is required." He says with a shake of his head, being too old to mince words or play games with his employees or agents.
"Wise as ever, Q." Bond says thoughtfully before he nods. "Something to consider. Good afternoon, Quartermaster." He muses before he turns from the room.
Surely, he finds the young man in Q-branch interesting. And there is nothing that Bond likes more than a mystery, a challenge. There are so few left in his life and missions provide one of the best. But in between there is often not much to occupy his mind which leads to too much drinking and empty liaisons. Or, and overabundance of time in the gym, pool, or shooting range. He's learned that if they see too much of that in MI6 when he is between missions, the psychologists get a bit worried. In truth, outside of Queen and Country he has no overarching reason to be more safe on missions to ensure he comes back to London in one piece.
And yet, lately, this mysterious little boffin has provided him with a diversion he needs when he's in between missions. After his last mission near India, when he saw the little tea shop it was an easy decision to pick up something he thought would please the younger man. And he still feels good about that decision. It's not like he has many friends. Deciding to settle his mind for a while, he heads down to the pool to loosen himself up.
Thank you for reading, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Please, let me know what you think.
Reviews/Comments welcome!
