Title: Metamorphosis

Parings: James Bond & Q; Sherlock Holmes & John Watson; Sherlock Holmes/John Watson.

Warnings: Canon typical violence. Non-consensual drug use.

Disclaimer: All characters, situations and concepts borrowed belong to their respective owners. If you recognize it, its not mine. I claim no rights. I make no profit.

Chapter 25 – Hol(y)istic Medicine

Q woke up to Sherlock exclaiming, "But that's all just legend!"

John Watson replied softly, "That's why we're testing it on R's cat. I'm sure as hell not going to let you drink it given the odds that you've already ingested something that it has altered."

"Actually," James' voce chimed in "I'm going to insist on being the second lab rat. We need to know if it interacts badly with lycanthropy."

There was a soft chime of an incoming text. "I think this discussion has been rendered moot gentlemen," Mycroft's smooth tones joined the conversation. "Lisa, R and Dr. Neilson report that while the cat test was successful they were interrupted by 004 and agent Uchia. Apparently 004 had somehow figured out what was happening and during the resulting argument Uchia drank the sample. They are adjourning to medical to see if there were any ill effects."

"Bloody spies," Watson said without rancor. "It's a good thing that even the gossip mill around here is classified, otherwise the nation wouldn't have a secret left!"

Q turned his head and surveyed the room through his eyelashes, not willing to let anyone know he was awake. His brothers, Bond and Watson were standing over by the computer monitors. Sitting on the conference table between him and them was a simple pewter cup next to a pitcher and a glass of what looked like water. As Q surreptitiously watched he realized that the cup was glowing slightly with a friendly warm light. The glow was echoed faintly in the water in the glass. As he observed the glow slowly became brighter. Q was surprised; it took a very powerful item to visibly glow with magic. He opened his eyes fully and realized that no one else in the room had noticed the glow. It wasn't casting shadows or otherwise affecting the room. The glow, it seemed, was for his eyes alone.

Slowly he sat up. The conversation continued unabated. Even Bond did not notice he'd moved. He was sure the cup and the water in the glass was calling to him. Q was certain that everything would be OK if he managed to make it to the table and drink the water. Now how to get there without alerting the men on the other side of the room?

Q decided he'd intentionally try a variant of what he'd done by instinct during the Q-branch memorial for 003. What he'd hoped for at the time was to somehow shift the mourning and loss into rededication to the cause and a drive to do better. Despite the resulting fatigue it had succeeded far beyond anything he'd envisioned. After he'd figured out what he'd done at the memorial Q had been quietly experimenting on how his emotional state seemed to influence the people around him and under what circumstances. One of the side effects had been his discovery that he could determine the emotional state of his fellow pack members. What had been even stranger was that over time he had started to pick up emotions from some of the other 00's, a few of the Q-branch staff and Eve Moneypenny when they were in the same room. Right now he could feel James' worry, Sherlock's frustration and Mycroft's concern. It was interesting, he noted in passing, that none of the emotions in the room seemed to be coming from John Watson.

Now how to keep them from noticing his movement? A tad bit of guilt about neglecting the hunt for Magnus and his targets. That should move them off focusing on his medical condition and by extension him. He'd have to do it all on his own and be careful not to draw any power through the pack bond from James. Q concentrated and it seemed to work. All four men turned toward the computer monitors. Mycroft started messing with the display showing the other three something. Sherlock and James made comments while John simply stood back and watched. He waited until he was sure they were fully engaged then stood and headed for the table.

It wasn't as easy as he had envisioned. He was dizzy and weak. His leg hurt like fire when he put even minimal weight on it. He felt like he was swimming through molasses as he struggled toward the enticing glass of shining water. Finally he made the table. Grabbing the glass with both hands he downed its contents. It tasted like water but burned spreading warmth throughout like a straight shot of excellent whisky.

Q managed to set the glass down on the table with an audible thunk. Of course that alerted everyone and resulted in a surprised chorus of alarm from the other side of the room. He grinned at the four shocked faces. Unfortunately that was just about when his legs suddenly decided that they were simply not going to hold him up anymore. Using the edge of the table to control his descent Q ended up sitting on the floor. He had to giggle a bit as he realized the scene he was presenting. The Quartermaster of MI6 sitting on the floor of a secure, top secret bunker in just his pants and socks. The giggle became a laugh. The minion slippers would have completed the ludicrous scene. Maybe he could ask My to take a picture with his phone.

James and John were at his side in an instant. They moved as if they had choreographed the whole thing, James coming to one side to support him while John knelt on the other taking his pulse and assessing his condition. Looking at the two men Q realized that both of them had a halo effect. James' was green and brown reminding him of earth and woods and home. John's was opalescent and shimmery shot through with occasional sparkles. Curious to see if it was a localized effect he looked at his brothers. 'Lock had a multicolored halo shifting and morphing at dizzying speed as he observed and deduced. My' was much the same although his was shot through with blue as he attempted to use his considerable will to calm himself. It was beautiful, amazing and somehow extremely funny.

Q attempted to stifle his laughter. It was concerning James and John. What resulted was a choked sounding chuff that reminded Q of a cat coughing up a hairball. He didn't think werewolves got hairballs but he wondered what one would sound like if they did. Of course his imagination came up with something and he dissolved again into laughter.

In the meantime John had shown a light into his eyes, taken his blood pressure and was currently telling him to squeeze his hands. Q attempted to comply but lost his balance and ended up slumping against James. Q caught a flash of the same light he'd seen earlier coming from the cup on the table. This time John apparently saw it too because he glanced up in that direction. As Q watched John's face took on a familiar expression of amused shock and exasperation. Q had seen it directed at Sherlock a couple of times through CCTV when Sherlock was being a bit not good. In this instance Sherlock was not the recipient of Watson's glare, the cup was.

Just what we need added to the mix, Q thought, animate objects. It dawned on him that the whole situation had devolved from being an action movie or thriller and now resembled a cartoon feature. All that remained for it to be one was for everyone present to turn into objects of some sort. 'Lock would end up as his coat or maybe that funny hat…a deerstalker, John would be a teapot, My an umbrella, James would be a gun and of course he'd turn into a tablet. Once again his imagination provided appropriate images and Q laughed even harder.

John and James looked at him with concern. When he got a decent breath in he managed to hum a few bars. James stared at him blankly. John clearly recognized the snippet of music but was puzzled by it. The contrast in the two expressions caused Q to lose his composure again dissolving into a series of giggles. He tried to stop and was partially successful at least until everything suddenly went black.

When consciousness returned Q realized several things in short order. First he was sober; second he was in wolf form and third he was curled up mostly in Bond's lap as James sat on one of the cots.

"Was that normal?" Sherlock was asking John.

"Normal for a change but not the circumstances that caused it," John replied.

"Any ideas?" John's question was clearly directed at Bond.

"The shift completed the healing process," was James' reply. Q wiggled a bit and looked up at James' face as he continued, "He appears to be sober now and I suspect he's hungry."

Q thumped his tail on the cot in agreement then tried to extricate himself from Bond's lap.

James wasn't having any of it and held him secure lap while saying, "Toss me the rest of those meat sticks."

The meat sticks were handed over and in short order Q had been fed the few that had remained on the cart. Q whined a bit hoping to convince James to let him go. No such luck.

"I have some steak tartar being delivered from the canteen," Mycroft informed the group. "I hope that is adequate. It was what could be obtained quickly and in sufficient quantity."

Q suddenly realized why exactly James was holding him. Hungry was equivalent to grumpy and James did not want any accidents.

John seemed to understand too because he asked "May I take a look?" before even attempting to move.

Q made what he hoped was an affirmative noise at the same time James said "I've got him."

John approached carefully and ran practiced hands along Q's leg.

"You're right" He told Bond "it's mostly healed over. Quicker and cleaner than normal too. I'll bet there won't be a scar in human form either."

"I won't take that bet," James responded.

Before anyone could say anything else the door to the War Room opened and Lisa entered bearing a platter of sandwiches. She was followed by Moneypenny bearing a large bowl of what smelled like steak tartar. Lisa set the platter on the table and Moneypenny brought the bowl over to Bond. John wisely got out of the way retreating to the other side of the room snagging a couple of sandwiches as he went past.

"So," Bond asked her conversationally, "did catering steal your recipe or vice versa?"

"You ought to know me better by now James. I never let secrets slip. Of course I stole it from them!"

Q knew for a fact that Moneypenny wasn't telling the whole truth. Recipes were one of many items used to barter for favors within the agency. The steak tartar had shown up in Q branch late last winter as a bribe from accounting. Moneypenny probably had stolen the recipe from catering but she clearly knew it hadn't originated in that department. That didn't matter at all though at the moment because the aroma from the dish was making his mouth water and his stomach grumble.

James set the bowl down beside him on the cot and Q surged toward it. James tightened his grip. "Nope Q," James admonished, "You are not going to eat that all at one go. You'll make yourself sick."

Q subsided as James ate one of the tartar balls then promptly fed him another.

Sherlock made a questioning sound and Q heard John tell him softly, "Wolf stuff. I'll fill you in later."

Q was distracted by another ball of meat under his nose. He obediently ate it as well as the following one ignoring the argument which had broken out between Sherlock and John as to whether the former was going to eat the sandwich the latter had handed him. James snagged the next bit of tartar and the two of them continued eating until the bowl was gone. By that time Moneypenny had left and Sherlock was sitting in a chair sulkily eating his sandwich. Mycroft had also been cajoled into eating and there were a few minutes of silence as everyone else in the room finished their meal.

Mycroft finished first having only taken half a sandwich. He wiped his hands daintily on a serviette then looked at Lisa and said simply, "Report."

Lisa looked up from her ever present blackberry. "The initial test resulted in a complete healing of the cat's ear. There were no ill effects on Agent Uchia however a few bruises he had acquired in the last few hours seemed to be missing much to his mate's chagrin."

What? Q thought, Bruises? Then it suddenly made sense. 004, Laura, had been very interested in Toby and vice versa. His nose had confirmed that on numerous occasions. Now if he'd interpreted what he had overheard from Lynne and Bond's conversation correctly, she'd spent most of the night down in the cell block with him in canine form and taken him home for breakfast where the two of them had engaged in other pleasurable activities. The more he thought about it the more 00 behavior seemed to parallel werewolf proclivities. If she'd left bruises then she'd been visually marking her territory even if said marks wouldn't last very long due to Toby's metabolism. Mate though; that implied a level of permanence that was more than just the usual interoffice hook-up. Q wasn't sure what this would mean on the werewolf front but they'd definitely have to declare it officially.

Q suddenly realized that Lisa had stopped talking and everyone in the room was looking at him. He concentrated and determined that the last thing she had said was something about being unable to tell if the curse had been negated.

"I suspect it has," said Watson in full on medical mode, "given that the wound is almost completely healed now."

"Can you confirm?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes but…" Lisa replied keeping her eyes focused on both James and Q.

Oh, she wanted consent; both his and Bond's. He looked up at James' face. James nodded and moved his arms out of Q's way so that Q could get up. Q did so, getting off the cot and stopping to stretch before ambling over and sitting in front of Lisa.

Q had known for a long time that Lisa was a practitioner as well as Mycroft's PA and bodyguard. This, however, was the first time he'd seen her in person since he'd been changed. It was interesting. She smelled like a human with an overtone of ozone, he assumed this was the magic, and a faint hint of something like spoiled milk. He'd have to ask James about that.

Q knew that the ability to use magic was innate; you either had it or you didn't. He also was aware that regardless of the ability, the power itself had to be paid for by some sort of sacrifice. It could be either self-sacrifice or that of another; willing or unwilling. White witches used self-sacrifice while black ones tended to prefer unwilling victims. Most witches employed by the government, especially those with security clearances, were grey and obtained their power by personal, from fellow workers or sometimes from enemies of the state. If Q had to guess Lisa's faint rotten odor reflected that fact.

The ozone smell suddenly increased and Lisa's face went blank, eyes glazed over.

Q sneezed.

The sound seemed to wake Lisa from her trance and she looked at him smiling. "It's gone," she informed him directly.

That was good news Q thought. He felt fine now but having confirmation both medical and magical was reassuring. That left one minor problem, he currently was furry and attempting to use a computer was going to be an exercise in frustration even if he could get his hands, no paws, on the prototype laptop he had been working on. He laid down on the floor in preparation to shift back.

"No." James' command was firm as was the hand on the scruff of his neck. "That fast a turnaround is not a good idea."

"He's right," John chimed in. "You need to stay put for a few hours especially after an involuntary change. It's your body's way of telling you that you need to be in one form or the other to heal correctly."

Q huffed his frustration and sat up again. He looked at his brothers. Neither of them seemed to be anxious for more information. In fact My was looking contemplative and Sherlock was now staring at the cup on the table.

Q stood up, crossed to Sherlock and nudged him with his shoulder. Sherlock started then looked down at him. "That," he said referring to the cup, "is the piece I was missing from my analysis."

"Indeed," Mycroft agreed.

Q could see that both his brothers were reorganizing their original deductions to factor in the powerful artifact. Q didn't even bother. While deduction and analysis were things he could do he generally wasn't near as fast or effective as either of his brothers. No his forte was locating, obtaining and sorting of relevant information. In his current form that wasn't' possible so he was stuck waiting for whichever came to the end of their chain of deductions first. Fortunately he didn't have to wait long because John Watson became impatient.

"Oi!" said John waiving a hand in front of Sherlock's face. "No getting lost in the mind palace. Talk to me."

Once again to Q's surprise Sherlock obediently started talking, "Magnus wants the cup for its power, especially if he adds the stolen gemstones into the configuration. It will give him the magical boost to put him on a par with the other grey lords. The cup is also the factor that allowed Liam to create the overly effective versions of the common street drugs. It's clear from Liam's notes and the instructions he received," Sherlock waived his hand in the direction of the spiral bound notebook he'd grabbed in the drug den, "that Magnus was steering the production of drugs that would work on Fae to allow him to influence their behavior. The fact that the drugs produced happened to have higher potency in humans than their normal counterparts was a pleasant side effect allowing the drug manufacturing group to make a tidy profit from the sale of the modified drugs."

Sherlock continued, "Liam and his group were being run by Albert, my third attacker, with no direct contact from Magnus. This compartmentalization was fortunate for us. If Magnus had been anywhere within that house he would have, given your assessment of his innate power level John, known there was a high powered magical artifact present. Albert was also involved in at least some of the jewelry heists; most likely the easy ones, simple breaking and entering. Magnus reserved his Fae cohorts for places like the Peterson's where coercion was needed to open a safe or turn off an alarm. Albert wasn't a mole for Brighter Futures, he was simply greedy. He nicked some of the gemstones and also set up the distribution for the modified drugs. Liam was the mole and he left enough evidence to frame Albert resulting in Albert's death and marking as a traitor. The werewolf lead mercenary group backed up by the water fae was sent in to grab the product, the notes and get rid of Liam and the rest of his cadre to keep the operation secret."

Sherlock paused and looked at Q, "From what you found it looks like he has a plan to allow him to drug the water supply of most of the major cities in the country. What's puzzling is the timing. Everything we've found indicates Magnus takes the long view. The drugs were still experimental not ready for full scale production. I estimate there was only enough to affect London and only part of London at that if you wanted any decent concentration. With what he thought was the mole removed he should have left the drug research operation in place until there were some better results. Something moved his timeline and much as I would like to take credit I don't' think it was our," he looked at John, "investigatory efforts."

Mycroft made a small harrumphing noise. Q knew that it was his version of Sherlock's exhaled ha when information finally fell into place. "A conclave; a meeting of most of the powerful Fae in the country if not the world," he said succinctly.

"Really?" asked John. "From what I know they keep those things seriously under wraps. We humans never hear about them until after the fact and then only because they deign to make some sort of announcement regarding new policies or some such."

"True," Mycroft replied, "But I was consulted several weeks ago by a colleague regarding security arrangements for the London Fae enclave. Due to this and other events I suspected that there might be a conclave in the near future. Recent indications have confirmed that some sort of Fae meeting was imminent. That would be sufficient temptation to advance a timetable I would think even without the artifact in hand."

"Use the drugs to gain initial influence then use a magical artifact or two to cement his position. He is actively searching for the cup. I suspect there are other items on his acquisition list." Sherlock's tone was matter of fact.

"Thus all the money making schemes MI6 ran into," John commented.

There were a lot easier ways to make money even in the illicit arms supply business. Q thought to himself. Why a dirty bomb to Chinese terrorists of all people? They were clearly not the most well-funded group in the bidding at the time. That particular honor would most likely been held by either one of the Middle Eastern groups or Mr. Ivanov's clients.

James was apparently thinking on the same lines. "If it were just money he would have sold the missing nuclear material to the highest bidder and not play footsie with a Uyghur separatist coalition…unless he wanted a diversion with a large casualty count."

"A dirty bomb in a major Chinese city would provide both a large casualty count and focus world attention. It would certainly keep me busy for several months," Mycroft concurred wryly.

It was silent for a moment, except for the clicking of Lisa's nails on her blackberry, as everyone considered the ramifications.

"But then why the mercenaries with a werewolf," John asked suddenly. "Mercenaries I understand. You use them to get to the water supply but given the complexity I doubt the werewolf component is accidental. This guy's schemes are as convoluted as..." John's voice trailed off. He didn't have to say Moriarity.

"Challenge rights," James said flatly. "Anyone can challenge for a leadership position. He's after the Master of the Isles slot. First the Fae, then the Wolves."

"And then use those groups to influence the Government," Mycroft added.

"Ha!" breathed Sherlock. "The modified GHB wasn't the source of my problem. It was a spell in conjunction with the GHB."

Q looked up at the apparent non-sequitur.

"The modified drug made me highly susceptible to the magic," he continued. "Magnus was in the bar that night. I didn't see him but I remember his cologne. He clearly didn't want anyone to talk about him if they happened to notice and he set a spell to ensure that. I must have come within the sphere of the spell after I was drugged and the interaction caused the effects. The spell was general, not specifically directed at me so my protections were not triggered."

"Bloody Fae loophole abuse," John muttered.

Mycroft looked sour. "It's more serious than I feared. Drug the populace, influence elections; drug the politicians, influence the laws; drug the bureaucrats and run the country."

"Well knowing what and why is well and good," James broke in again, "but how are we going to get ahold of this Magnus and stop him permanently before anything goes down?"

Q could tell both his brothers were surprised. They had been so focused on deducing the threat that the practical had, at least for the moment, escaped them. He could see them both start to focus on the problem when John Watson started to chuckle.

"Oh I don't think that will be a problem at all," he said pointing at the cup. "We just offer him what he wants!"