Hey guys! Here I am with a new series. This one is going to go on for a while (probably over a few years).
Each fic in the series is going to be based on my interpretation the title of a Bond movie (not the movie itself), eventually working through them all. And they will all be 00Q (from the Craig movies). I aim to have the movies in order of release, but the stories while in the same universe will not be in chronological order of events. Most (if not all) will be short, slice of life, one shots.
This one, being the first, is based on the title "Dr. No"
I haven't written much 00Q before but I'm keen to finally be writing some.
Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this fic and this series, much love xox
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
"Q? You home yet?" James called out as he opened the door to their flat. He turned off the alarm system and tried again, "Q?"
There was no answer, except for a yawn from Felix; Q's cat, who was perched on the back of the lounge. Q must have still been at work, it was too early for Q to be home, but James had hoped just a little bit.
James hobbled over to the lounge, put his gun within reach on the nearby coffee table, and eased himself down onto the three seater with a long, slightly pained, sigh. He'd sustained some injuries on his last mission. Specifically; two broken toes, a sprained wrist, and bruised ribs. He hardly felt the toes; he'd broken them more times than he cared to keep count of. The wrist was bothersome, mostly because half of his hand was wrapped up tight in a bandage to keep him from doing more damage. The ribs, on the other hand, hurt. Ribs always hurt – he should know, he'd injured them enough times.
James shifted lightly, trying in vain to get somewhat comfortable on the lounge. He tried to adjust the pillows behind him but between his wrist and his ribs, he gave up quickly and just accepted the lump in his spine. The arm of the lounge was hard under his head, but James was so exhausted that he had begun to not care about his discomfort. Without taking off his shoes, James settled in for a nap while he waited for Q to get home.
It was dark in the flat when James awoke to the front door opening. He was instantly aware of a warm weight on his chest as he reached for his gun, wincing from the pain it caused. He could make out the faint outline of Q's curly hair and wiry frame in the wedge of light coming from the hall, and his hand relaxed on the gun.
Felix jumped down from James' chest and meowed as he trotted toward Q.
"And a good evening to you too Felix," Q replied quietly to the feline, bending down to pet his sleek black fur after turning the light on.
"Hello love," James croaked, voice rough from sleep and exhaustion.
Q was startled for only a brief moment, "James! Sorry, I didn't realise you were asleep there, I wouldn't have turned the light on."
"It's fine, I need to get up anyway," James told him, pushing himself into a sitting position with a great deal of effort and a loud grunt.
Q obviously noticed and began fussing, "What have you done to yourself now?"
"Don't act like you haven't already read my medical report," James huffed, but a smile tugged at his lips. James was sure that Q had his name flagged in the system so that he was notified immediately about anything involving the double-oh.
Q had the grace to blush faintly, "I might have skimmed over it…" he admitted.
"Then you know that it's not that serious," James continued as he pushed himself up from the lounge with one hand, and almost fell back down.
Q rushed to help him, one arm wrapping around his hips, so as to not touch the bruised ribs. James would normally argue that he didn't need help, but he hadn't seen Q in two weeks, and he welcomed the touch of his partner.
"Really? Not that serious?" Q's voice was sceptical.
"I'll be fine in a few days," James countered.
Q scoffed and shook his head but helped his lover to the bathroom and then the bedroom.
"Alright, let's get you into bed so you can get some proper rest," Q announced, pulling back the covers and lowering James down to sit on the edge of the bed. His hands began to unbutton the double-oh's shirt.
"Hey," James said softly, covering Q's hands with his own, effectively stopping their progress.
Q raised his eyes to blue ones, James' fully functioning hand came to rest on his smooth cheek, gently coaxing Q closer. Once he was close enough, James met Q's dry lips with his own, kissing him soundly. The Quartermaster eventually melted into the kiss, and James' hands drifted over the lean body covered in a long cardigan.
"Mmmnn, James," Q tutted when a large hand squeezed his ass cheek, "your doctor specifically forbade any physical activities, particularly strenuous ones."
"But you just skimmed my medical report…" James chuckled, "You can't blame me for wanting you, I've been gone for two weeks…I missed you."
"Be that as it may, the doctor has said no. When you're better then we can spend all day in bed, but until then…"
"Pffft, the doctor is always telling me no. No sex, no takeaway food, no shooting without ear plugs, no working out, no alcohol," James rolled his eyes, "it's always something," he complained, not letting go of his Quartermaster.
"It's for your own good James," Q sounded exasperated, "you can't heal if you don't give yourself time to."
"Maybe a glass of scotch and a good shag with the man I love is what I need to heal…" James suggested brazenly, tugging Q even closer. If it weren't for his ribs James would have pulled Q straight back on top of himself.
"Sweet words aren't going to work this time Double-oh-seven," Q told him matter-of-factly. "Now, I can either help you get undressed, and bring you some food and painkillers, or I can just go and feed Felix and leave you to deal with it yourself."
James wanted to argue further, but there was no point. Q could be just as stubborn as him when he needed to be, and he could tell that this was one of those times. To be fair, Q had a point, James probably wouldn't be able to do much more than lay on his back and let Q ride him anyway. That didn't change the fact that James wanted Q close, to show him that he was the only one James wanted, the only thing that made James determined to make it back from every mission. Q already knew all of that of course, but it didn't hurt to remind his love of it every time he returned.
"You drive a hard bargain my dear Quartermaster, but I promise to behave if you stay," James acquiesced, reluctantly moving his hands to sharp hips instead of plush ass cheeks.
"Thank you," Q relaxed his shoulders and went back to the task of unbuttoning and removing James' shirt. Carefully pulling the material off of each arm to cause as little pain as possible.
The young genius flinched as he caught sight of the large patches of dark purple colouring the skin over James' left side, showing the damage to his ribs.
There was concern in Q's eyes as James tilted his chin up to look at his face instead, "It's not as bad as it looks darling," James told him as he leant in for a chaste kiss, "kissing you makes it hurt less too."
Q shook his head but chuckled as he grabbed a well-worn bed shirt to put on the secret agent, "James I think the pain and exhaustion is making you delirious."
"Maybe you should, ugh, kiss me some more then…" James' voice was slightly muffled by the shirt going over his head.
"James Bond, you are incorrigible," Q reprimanded him lightly.
"Hmm, I recall you enjoying my relentlessness previously," James supplied cheekily as he slowly undid his belt and fly while Q knelt to gently remove his shoes and socks, careful of James' toes.
James planted his good hand on the bed and lifted himself up with a grunt, just enough so that Q could tug down his trousers.
"Really, James? How are you even that interested in sex right now?" Q exclaimed in disbelief at the larger than usual bulge in James' underwear.
James shrugged which turned into a wince, "A number of reasons really; you're undressing me, I haven't seen you in two weeks, its rather sexy when you get bossy, I love you…do I need to continue?"
Q visibly melted a little, "I love you too James," he told his partner before initiating a lingering kiss, "mmm, and as much as I want to return your interest, it will have to wait until you're doing better love."
"I know, doctor's orders and all that," James sighed.
Q helped James to sit up against the bed head, cushioned by numerous pillows and then hurried off to heat up some leftovers from the fridge. He brought the food, a glass of water and painkillers in on a tray and sat it in James' lap.
"No sex and no scotch?" James questioned dramatically as he eyed the food; Thai leftovers.
"Do I really need to tell you that you can't have alcohol with medication?" Q pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Hasn't hurt me before."
James could be such a pain in the ass when he was injured; his double-oh training had taught him to seem invincible no matter what. Q occasionally had to remind him that he was still only human.
"Please just do as I asked Double-oh-seven," Q grumbled, turning to leave the room, "I'll be out here if you need me."
Bollocks. He hadn't intended to start a row with Q, quite the opposite, but alas. He'd give Q a few minutes while he did as the genius had asked, then he'd apologise.
The Thai wasn't bad, and the painkillers had started to kick in by the time he'd finished eating, but his body and mind were weary.
"Q!?" he called.
He heard a chair being pulled out then shuffling footsteps as Q came in wearing his woolly slippers, "Yes Double-oh-seven?"
Q was still mad, James had no doubt from the use of his number and the clipped tone.
"I'm done," James indicated to the tray. Q shuffled in to collect it off of James' lap and James caught his hand, holding it firmly, "I'm sorry love, I shouldn't have argued," he brought Q's hand up to his mouth and kissed the knuckles.
Q sighed, eyes focused on their clasped hands, "Every time you come home injured it reminds me how easily I could lose you out there James. I made my bed, and I wouldn't trade you for anyone, but when you disregard your health it upsets me. You're the oldest double-oh James, you can't afford to jeopardise your physical health, if you aren't at your best out there…" he trailed off.
James nodded, "I know…I…I think about it too, which is why I disregard everything else in favour of spending as many moments with you as the universe will allow. Double-ohs don't retire, we don't get the chance, but maybe…in a couple of years…"
Q's eyes shot to him, "You want to retire?!"
"If I get lucky, then yes, maybe restore old furniture, or old cars, or both…to keep my hands busy when they can't be on you."
"…" It wasn't often that the Quartermaster was speechless.
"Like you said Q, I am the oldest double-oh, I'm already past my expiration date. They'll replace me sooner or later regardless of whether it's my death or my age," James explained. He'd been thinking about it since he and Q had moved in together, "And I'd rather spend my life with you than getting shot at and making narrow escapes."
"I'd like that too," Q told him with a hopeful smile before kissing James briefly.
"Come to bed?" James requested.
"Alright love, just let me get rid of this and log out of the computer," Q agreed. He left with the food tray, and by the time he came back James was half asleep still propped up, "C'mon James, you should lay down."
Q helped him to lay flat on his back, and then changed before crawling in to bed on James' right side so as to not hurt his ribs during the night. Immediately James wrapped his arm around Q and drew him in close.
James nosed under the unruly curls to kiss Q's temple, "G'night darling," he mumbled sleepily, eyes heavy.
"Sleep well," Q replied, watching the rise and fall of James' chest, soothing himself with the rhythm. After a moment, as James was on the cusp of sleep, Q whispered, "I missed you too James."