Disclaimer: I do not own the Bond movies or books.
Warnings: Canon-complatible violence. AU elements. (New ones, I mean)
Q rose in the middle of the night, walking over to the door out to the pool area. James was sleeping; it was altogether a much more solid affair ever since he got so badly injured, and it was no longer a rare thing for Q to wake and not be alone.
He had just stepped onto the terrace, when there was suddenly a hand over his mouth and something cold which stung by his throat. How whomever it was doing it could, and at the same time hold him fast, was a mystery to him, but he was not given much time to wonder at that skill before a slightly accented voice hissed in his ear. "Where is James? What did you do to him?"
As Q fought against the form which held him, or rather spectacularly failed in this endeavour, he realised the person was actually shorter than him, and though the sheer strenght and skill behind the grip reminded him of James, this person was shaped nothing like him. Before he could do anything about it, object in some way to ask him questions while covering his mouth, there was another voice. "Let him go, Alec. It was just illusion. M knows."
Q found himself being let go so unceremoniously that he had to catch himself against the wall. "I thought it was uncharacteristic of her to abandon you so easily. Did our brothers in arms know?"
"I think some of them guessed, and most are out on assignment, much like you. Monneypenny?" Alec merely shrugged in responce, but it was barely even a question anyway. She was by far the most likely candidate to having told Alec about the call. As Q looked up to watch the two agents, it was hard to say which was most obvious. Their similarities, or their dissimilarities.
James was blond and impossibly blue-eyed, body carried with power but his injuries were also obvious in the careful shifting of his movements. The agent he had referred to as Alec, and thus could only be agent 006; Alec Trevelyan, was his complete opposite. Where James was tall, Alec was short, a lean and (probably deceptibly) soft figure aganst hard muscle. Alec's hair was a deep black, and much longer than James', and as she turned her dark blue eyes on Q, her movements held all the deadly grace of a cat out on a hunt.
He barely dared to introduce himself, but he did so anyway, shakily stating his name without offering a hand. Alec merely smiled. "Hello, Q. I have heard a lot about you. Good and bad. Most of it bad. I like you already."
"Why must you always appear with a bang?" James walked back into his bedroom through the navy curtains, crawling right back into bed without looking back. The unusually graceless motions were a good proof of how badly he had really been hurt, and it was clear that Alec could have noticed it from a mile away.
"You sound like M. Age finally getting to you, old man? Heading for the viagra generaton next, grandpa?" Alec was, according to her file, only six years younger than James, but Q guessed that in their business, it was enough of a span to count. Many double O's didn't even last six years. He sat down at the edge of the bed, before changing his mind and rising, mumbling something unintelligeble and fleeing back to his own bedroom. He wanted to known how the Double O had gotten through his security: actually dealing with her could wait until morning. Besides, she was far too eerie to be around; even when she wasn't trying to kill him. And he had no faith that that bit wouldn't pass.
James rolled his eyes as Q left the room, and turned on his side. "Thanks," it was really all he needed to say.
"Any time, brother," Alec replied evenly, her voice just a lethal murmur in the dark, "any time at all."