Alan LOVED Q Branch. It was HIS domain. Well, his and his human's. Like his human, Alan liked details. Alan could spot a fly at 300 paces on the other side of the bunker. His human could spot a mistyped letter in a continuous stream of code in seconds. Alan could chase down a rogue vermin quicker than the blink of an eye and the flick of a tail. His human could track and pinpoint an enemy agent in an equally impressive space of time. Well, impressive for a human.
Yes, Alan mused to himself, nestled comfortably on the top tier of the shelf against the wall overlooking Q's work bench, amongst the electronics and random gun parts. Life was good for an MI6 mogster. Alan was a kitty who would lay a paw on his favourite can of salmon and swear on every purr that he'd ever graced upon the world that this was a cold hard feline fact.
It's a sad fact of the real world, however, that all good things must come to an end.
Moneypenny practically squealed with delight.
M chastised. "Such sounds are unbecoming in an MI6 employee, Miss Moneypenny."
"Oh but, Sir. He's utterly irresistible!"
The puppy wriggled in M's arms, all lolling tongue and floppy-eared in his eagerness to escape his captor's arms and lavish some affection on this new person. M finally conceded and put him on the floor. He frowned at the bouncing beast, a labrador-springer cross, dark chocolate coloured fur and all the more unusual for his bright blue eyes.
"He'll take some training."
Eve gathered the pup into her arms and snuggled her nose into his neck. The animal yelped happily. Moneypenny gave her boss a warm look. "I'm so glad you got one."
"Well, I tend to listen to advice when it's good. Insane, but good nonetheless," M replied, mock grudgingly. He glanced over at the chessboard. "I see the Quartermaster has popped by." Eve was thoroughly preoccupied with cuddles while M stepped over to survey the battlefield. He advanced his Knight just as Moneypenny piped up.
"No man is truly an island, Sir. Even one who resides on top of the Military Intelligence food chain," she said nonchalantly, putting the puppy down at her feet. "Sit," she commanded crisply and pointed her finger down.
The puppy complied. Tail wagging, eager to please. "Well." M managed. "It seems I'm not the only male in this office who knows what's good for him."
"Good thing too," she said with a pleased smile. She took her seat while the pup roamed the area, nose to the floor. "By the way, your 6pm call with the PM has been postponed until morning, Sir."
A reprieve. Wonderful, he thought to himself. "In that case, Miss Moneypenny, consider yourself relieved for the day."
Moneypenny didn't need to be told twice. She beamed while shutting down her laptop and standing to reach for her jacket. "Thank you, Sir. See you tomorrow."
"Well. Winston," said M, turning towards his inner sanctum, the dog glued to his heels, "looks like it's just you and me."
It took M about 15 minutes trying to catch up on his reading until he realised that the energetic hound would need to work off some of that excess energy if he was to get anything done. He slipped on the collar and lead and headed out for a stroll around the building. In his wanderings, he found himself heading towards Q branch, which he expected to be relatively quiet at this time of the evening. His phone chirped while he strolled along the long corridor that circumvented the perimeter of Q's lair. He took the call. Focussed on the words of his solicitor, he failed to notice when Winston slipped his slightly loose collar.
"Oh buggering blast!" he huffed as the quick but clumsy animal bounded away from him, through the first open door and between the legs of the first human he encountered exiting the main workspace. M hung up the phone and stepped quickly in pursuit.
Alan smelled the intruder before he saw him. Hackles raised, he hopped down from his perch and up on the edge of Q's bench, poised for fight or flight, where his human was busy retrofitting some phones. A few angry flicks of his tail got Q's attention though.
"What's up Alan?" It was just then he heard a distinctive canine yelp. Q frowned in confusion. "What the—?"
He rose angrily and marched towards the open plan room where his minions worked, only a half dozen of them set up for the night shift. "Who the bloody hell brought a dog into Q Branch without clearing it with me first? NOT that I would have permit—!" The four-legged intruder crashed into the leg of a table as he rounded a corner and came haring up the aisle between the desks, not that the collision hampered his progress towards Q's location and ultimately the target on which his nostrils had set its keen senses. The cat was the first exciting thing he'd smelled since he arrived. He was determined to meet this age old nemesis and greet him in that age old way. Head-to-head and may the best furball win.
"WINSTON!"
Too late, Winston spotted his quarry who's knowledge of the space was far superior to that of the young canine, leading him on a merry chase around the furniture and equipment before parking himself out of reach and eyeing the offending beast with contempt at the intrusion of his territory. Q was equally incredulous, grabbing the pup and lifting him to look him in the eye. "And who the devil might you be?" he asked. He turned to his equally bewildered staff. "By every weapon I've ever modified, if I don't get an answer in the next three seconds as to who this bloody beast belongs to, so help me…!"
Q rounded on his skeleton crew in the same moment M rounded one of the pillars near an entrance to the bullpen. Q's expression was mighty incredulous and bemused while M was doing his damnedest not to look sheepish. "Apologies, Quartermaster. I believe what you are holding there belongs to me."
Q looked from the pup (silly creature) to M and back again. He did his best to lighten the mood, not currently being helped by four gawping Q Branchers rubber necking the scene. "Well," he gently exhaled, walking towards M holding out the animal, "don't tell me you've found 007's replacement already?"
The fleeting expression of surprise that crossed M's face was replaced with a stifled chuckle. "Oh this one's far too well trained to fill Bond's shoes," he casually replied. Q was equally delighted with the banter. Truth be told, he missed that aspect of his volatile and thoroughly unpredictable relationship with the former agent. Q handed the squirming lop-eared pup to M with a smile and turned back to his bench barking a firm "back to work you lot! Show's over!" M was turning to leave when a thought popped into his head. Alan had since jumped down from his vantage point and took comfort in his own human's arms.
"Quartermaster."
"Sir?" he replied, glancing at the unruly pup occasionally, waiting him to make another play for his cat, though to be honest, he seemed to have calmed significantly in M's embrace.
"I was reviewing some stats and figures from Medical regarding the health and safety of Q Branch staff. I'd very much like to go over them with you in person. Put our heads together and see if we can drill down to the facts behind the figures."
Q frowned. "Nothing serious I hope, Sir?" M smiled. "Well, I'd like us to ensure that that doesn't become the case. Stay ahead of the curve." He patted Winston's head absently, running tomorrow's schedule through his mind while he did. "Lunch tomorrow? My office. If that is convenient."
It's not as though Q could refuse such a request, particularly when the subject of the meeting was the welfare of his own staff. "Of course. Sir. Is noon OK?"
"Thank you, Q," he replied with a nod and didn't dilly dally any further. He turned and strolled down the aisle, Winston slung over his shoulder who yelped twice while Alan, rather helpfully, gave a hiss in response throwing in a narrow-eyed stare for good measure at the retreating human and his four-legged irritant.
Instincts. No matter how hard we try, how civilised we pretend we have become, we can never truly escape them.
