"Have a seat, Quartermaster."
It had been two days since Q was allowed to eat food, and they finally decided that he could cope with the psych analysis. Bond wasn't happy because M wouldn't allow him in the room with Q, saying that it would distract him. Q sat back in the chair, and looked briefly at the one-way glass, where he knew Bond and M were watching. What he didn't know was that Bond and M were joined by Eve, Tanner, R, and 003 – four other people who had invested a large amount of time since Q woke up to get him back on his feet.
"How are you feeling?" The analyst asked.
"A lot better now that I can eat by myself," Q answered, giving the woman a smile. He knew there was no point in fighting them, as Bond often did. It just kept you out of the workplace longer.
"I'm glad. Now, Q, today we're going to go through some simple word association, and also have a chat. What would you like to do first?"
"Word association," Q said immediately. If he talked first, then his word association could very well get tense, and that wouldn't show positively on his report. He knew that this person would have read his file, which now included the notes from his psychologist sessions, and she would probably pick words that were meant to remind him of his time as a captive. It didn't escape his notice that this was the first psych test he'd done since he and Bond moved in together, as well. At Bond's post-mission tests they usually tried to bait him with things to do with Q, making sure the two could separate work and their home life. He had to remain calm. The woman nodded and flicked through a couple of pages of Q's file, picking up a pen.
"Right, let's get started. Paper?"
"Pen."
"Power?"
"Cord."
"Concrete?"
"Grey."
"Light?"
"Dark."
"Rescue?"
"Mission."
"7?"
Q went off on a stream of numbers, relaying a code perfectly. After thirty seconds the analyst held up her hand, and Q stopped.
"What was that?"
"A computer code."
"What's the code for?"
"The layout of a Word document."
She looked at Q, wondering if he was lying. Behind the screen M looked at R. R didn't need to wait for the question.
"He's telling the truth, that's the code for Microsoft."
Back in the room, the woman made a note on her papers, and then continued.
"Home?"
"Sleep."
"Safe?"
"Vault."
"Safety."
"Conditional."
"Protect?"
"Unconditional."
"Protector?"
"Patronus."
"Sorry?"
"Apologise."
"No, that wasn't a word, that was a question. Did you say patronus?"
"It's from Harry Potter, it's the ultimate protection spell, it protects the user from Dementors."
"I know. I was just… clarifying."
"Ok then," said Q, with another look at the glass.
"We'll just do a few more, and then we'll move on. Bond?"
"James."
"James?"
"Bond."
"Partner?"
"James Bond."
"Q, I really don't think you're taking this seriously."
Bond stared at Q, trying to get him to hear his thoughts. "Don't sass her, don't get defensive. Come on, Q."
"Why would you say that?"
The analyst sat back in her chair and put the pen and paper down.
"When we ask these questions, we're not trying to pry in your personal life, we just want to know if you're a security threat, and if you can withstand the pressure of someone else asking these questions, on not so friendly terms."
"I haven't proved that already?"
"Quartermaster…"
'No, I'm sorry, listen to me."
Behind the glass M raised his eyebrows and Bond tried his hardest to not start banging his head against the wall. This could go badly…
"Years before 007 and I started a relationship, I was his Quartermaster, and first and foremost, that's my role here. We have always behaved strictly professional at work, and this will continue as normal. We have not disrupted any jobs, and we've not had any complaints from anyone within MI6. I was in his earpiece as his minder, and I've heard him introduce himself hundreds of times as 'Bond, James Bond.' So you'll forgive me if that's what I immediately think of when someone says his name. The Quartermaster has a partnership with all the double 0 agents. They have to. And as soon as they're in the field, or getting their equipment, they're on completely equal footing. And I resent the implication that I play favourites when other people's lives are involved."
"Well, I guess we've moved onto the discussion section then. Do you dream about your time as a hostage?"
"I wasn't a hostage."
"Q…"
"I wasn't, though! It wasn't a hostage situation, there was no ransom, no ultimatum. I was a captive, I was a prisoner. I wasn't a hostage."
"Do you dream about your time as a prisoner?"
"Of course. But that's the body's way of coping with psychological stress. The psychologist said that this would happen less frequently when there's no physical reminders of my time on Markusi."
"When you wake up, do you think you're still in the cell?"
"Sometimes, for a few seconds, yes."
"And what brings you back to the present?"
Bond's arms… His lips…. His hands…
"As soon as I see something familiar, I'm fine."
"Since you're still sleeping in Medical, what counts as something familiar?"
"My laptop, or the paperwork, or other work I'm doing at the moment. The bed's usually a good give-away, Bond if he's there. There's a light in the corridor outside my room that flickers slightly, a whole range of things."
"Do you still feel like you're being tortured? Like you're back in that room and it's all happening again?"
"Sometimes when I wake up, but as soon as something familiar happens, I know where I am and that I'm in London, in Medical." In Bond's arms.
"Alright. One last test. We need to check that you can still deal with pain, without it triggering a fight-or-flight response. I know that you've done a few of these with the psychologist, and you've done well. But because you had electric shocks used as part of your torture, we need to know that you can cope with static electricity."
Q smiled again, although Bond thought it was a little tight.
"You need to know I won't fire a gun if I get shocked by the microwave."
"You've got the right idea." The analyst reached beneath the desk and pulled out a small metal box. "This runs an extremely low-level current of electricity, the exact same as you would find on a piece of metal that has had time to build up static. All you need to do is touch it with your finger, and you'll receive the shock. When you're ready, Quartermaster."
Q immediately reached for the box, pressing three fingers onto the flat surface. He held them there for five seconds and felt the shocks move through him: One… Two… Three. After the third shock he let go and wriggled his fingers to get rid of the tingling remnants of the electricity. The analyst eyed him, and he smiled reassuringly.
"Excellent, Quartermaster. You're free to leave."
Q thanked her and stood up, taking his time to stretch and then walked out the door, where Bond, M, R, 003, Eve, and Tanner were waiting.
"I didn't know I had an audience," Q said jokingly.
"Well done, Q," M said. "I'll come down this evening and you can show me what you've been working on, OK?"
"Thanks, M, that'll be good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm starving, and I really need a shower."
With a quick wave goodbye, Q quickly walked back to Medical. He told the nurses that he would be in his ensuite, so they wouldn't disturb him, and closed the door to the bathroom. As soon as it shut he collapsed on the tiled floor, tremors ripping through his body, his hand burning where he'd been shocked. He gasped for breath, causing his ribs to start aching again, before he crawled over to the toilet and was sick, throwing up all the food from the day before. When he was done there was a sheen of sweat covering his body, and he felt almost as weak as when he'd woken up the first time. After what seemed like hours he was able to drag himself into the shower and he stood underneath the cool water for a long while.
When he finally began feeling more like himself he turned off the water and stepped back into his clothes. He swallowed a glass of water and took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door, letting himself back into his room.
There was just one thing he hadn't counted on.
Bond. Who was sitting in his chair next to the bed, watching him closely.