The man aiming a gun at him was a bit taller than Bond. He had dark hair that was shot through with a little gray, intense eyes, and he was dressed in a dark suit, with a white shirt and no tie. The smooth features were a natural olive color and belied the suggested age from the graying hair. It was actually difficult to place him age-wise, but Q had read the file and knew he was about Bond's age.

The Man in the Suit.

John Reese.

Ex-military. Ex-CIA. Not a werewolf, but most likely a supernatural. And on almost everyone's wanted list.

Q didn't see an earpiece, but he knew it was there. The man was operating as an independent agent and he had to have a handler, even if he wasn't a werewolf.

"MI6, I presume" Reese said and he sounded intrigued.

Q's face remained blank. He refused to be baited. He had his own gun up. Q had been quite aware of Reese's approach, had watched him through the hotel's security system, and he had been ready. He had wanted Reese to come to him, had planned it with Bond, and it had worked perfectly. He had left his footprints to be followed; Reese's partner had done just that.

Reese regarded him like a predator would size up its prey. Not that it perturbed Q in any way. He was used to dealing with predators. A whole Double-Oh section of them. And his own partner was the worst. Facing a fully fledged phoenix was a terrifying thing.

Reese tilted his head a little. Q suspected he was listening to whatever he was being told over the earpiece. He was very tempted to log in, but refrained from doing so.

He was waiting for Bond.

"Though I guess you aren't a spy," he finally said.

"And I guess you aren't Homeland Security, CIA, FBI or any such agency," Q replied pleasantly, playing dumb.

He kept his gun aimed steadily at the perceived threat. He could shoot. He had proven that countless times on the range. He had just never shot at a human being before.

The man smiled humorlessly.

It wasn't exactly a Mexican stand-off kind of situation, but this was not getting them anywhere. Reese wouldn't be inclined to just leave, though Q doubted he would shoot a British national who happened to be part of MI6 just like that. He also doubted he would simply slap his hands and tell him to stay out of his business.

Actually, Q had no idea how Reese would deal with this and Bond had yet to call in or make an appearance.

Vexing.

Q decided to ignore his own warnings and reached for the comm. line he knew was there. Technopathically speaking it was child's play. He simply inserted himself into the active connection, got his bearings and then placed his own anchor.

::Mr. Reese, I believe the gentleman is far more than an MI6 agent:: a male voice, distinguished, older, said. ::I'm running into some quite extensive blocks trying to identify him::

Q almost laughed. Good luck breaking into his security system. Even if he ran facial recognition he wouldn't so much as get a blip. He had given Reese's partner the bread crumbs to follow, but everything else had been locked away.

And it would stay locked.

"We've reached an impasse," he said out loud.

"Doubtful."

"You. Me. No one else."

He knew there was no one else. The cameras everywhere told the story. Yes, he could alert the hotel to the intruder, but that would only make things more complicated. It would bring security and the police, and it would result in a lot of questions. His papers were fool proof, yes, but they were here on a mission and that meant keeping a low profile.

Unlike Bond, Q could do just that. He didn't have to blow anything up.

"What does the British secret service want from me?" Reese asked.

"I believe my partner already told you; before you dropped a stack of crates on him. You've come up in an investigation into the death of one of our Double-Oh agents," Q answered truthfully.

::There is no way I can ID this man, Mr. Reese. I believe I also raised some alarms.::

"How atypical of you," Reese murmured. His voice was so low, Q only heard him because he was logged in.

"You believe I killed him?"

"Did you?" Q countered.

The cold eyes sparked with something akin to humor. Q could identify it because Bond had that very same expression sometimes.

"No."

"And you want me to take your word for it why?"

Reese shrugged, flicking his eyes at the gun.

"Oh yes," Q muttered, still steadily aiming his own at Reese. "Very convincing. And not very impressive. Almost killing Bond isn't either, though I'm impressed he didn't kill you."

Reese looked a bit perplexed, but he was covering it well. "I don't deal well with bullies," he only said, voice smooth as silk.

Q found the low, soft tones almost hypnotic. He had been studying the posture, the whole manner of Reese, and he just knew the man wasn't a werewolf.

"If I believe you," Q went on conversationally, "and you didn't kill our agent, his handler and a CIA operative by the name of Carl Urich, and I can see that name sparks a memory, then you have just become a target yourself, Mr. Reese."

The silent stare prompted him to continue, though the gun was still fixed on Q in a very steady way.

"Urich and five more CIA agents were killed over the past months, all werewolves, all of the same pack. The very same pack you ran with, Mr. Reese. There are only three more members of your pack alive, including your alpha. You can see how we first came up with your name as the perpetrator as you are the odd man out. You are missing, believed dead in the official files, though the CIA knows you are very much alive and active in this very city."

"Why not the alpha?"

"Oh please."

It got him a brief hint of a smile. "You have no idea who Mark Snow is, do you?"

The smile was almost playful with a sharp edge that would have set off alarms if Q hadn't already known how dangerous the man was.

"I think I have a very good idea, Mr. Reese. You see, my talents spread out further than mere surface hacking. I believe the friend in your ear can attest to that. He has been trying to enter my files for the past minutes we have been talking and I've been keeping him out."

That got him a raised eyebrow.

::We are dealing with a supernatural, Mr. Reese:: the handler said, sounding intrigued.

::"Preternatural":: Q said out loud and using the connection simultaneously.

It was as close as he could make a man like Reese gape in surprise.

::He has hacked into the connection!:: Finch exclaimed. ::Impossible!::

::Hardly:: Q addressed the handler, Finch. ::I know what I'm doing and if I'm correct, so do you. I'm willing to believe you didn't order the kills, Mr. Finch, which makes your friend Mr. Reese here a target with a very big bull's eye on his back. There are only two pack members left::

Silence greeted him.

"Why should I trust you not to be that killer, Mr. MI6?"

There was a soft clicking noise and Reese froze. Bond stepped into the room, blue eyes cold, face a mask. There was a cut on his head that had stopped bleeding and a bruise blossoming on one cheek bone. Q could see the preternatural, the phoenix, fighting for control. The very aura of his partner promised death.

"Because if he was the one, you would be dead now."

Reese glanced at him, then slowly lowered the gun. "I can see that."

And then his arm came up and slammed into Bond's. The gun went flying, but the agent wasn't easily overwhelmed. What followed was an exchange of blows that had Q appreciate the Double-Oh's training, but also confess that Reese wasn't a slacker either. Both men were evenly matched and neither backed down.

Reese stumbled back after a hard kick and gave Bond an appreciative nod. Bond just smirked and went in for the next exchange of blows.

::Is this really necessary?:: Q sent, using the comm. line he was still logged into. He had lowered and secured his own gun.

The hotel wouldn't be happy about the destruction of their property, even though everything would be paid for. Still, it was unnecessary to upset anyone else.

There was silence. Then,

::I believe we haven't been introduced just yet:: Reese's handler said carefully.

::I am the one whose firewall you've been trying to break. Let me tell you right now, it won't break::

::I see. How can you communicate through this frequency? You don't have a comm. device::

::I believe we both have questions and the answers are slightly more complicated than we would think::

There was a pause. Q watched Bond get another hard kick into the ribs, but he was up and at it in a heartbeat. Tenacious. He had never known his agent not to be anything but. Even with the bruises Q knew were there from the prior encounter, maybe even a cracked bone or two, he was fighting like nothing was wrong.

::You are a British government employee?:: the man Reese had been talking to asked.

::Yes. And you have been watching us using traffic cameras, private security networks and probably even the police surveillance. Which implies you are logged into a system you shouldn't be. It also implies you are well-versed in the world of hacking and computers::

::Very well deducted::

::It takes one to know one:: Q watched the two men. ::Call of yours, I'll call off mine::

It got him a chuckle. ::Mr. Reese:: the handler said.

"Bond," Q called simultaneously.

Both men stopped, breathing hard, looking bruised, and bleeding.

"I believe Mr. Reese's partner and I have reached an understanding that doesn't involved force."

Reese cocked an eyebrow. Bond did the opposite; he frowned a little.

But they both stood down.

::I believe we are not on completely opposite sides, Mr. Finch:: Q commented.

::I hope not::

He suppressed an annoyed expression when Bond moved closer to him, body radiating tension, the phoenix snarling and hissing as it still perceived John Reese a lethal threat.

Of course he was.

He was a trained killer and he wasn't unlike James Bond. Actually, those two probably had more in common than they wanted to believe.

"We are not here for you, Mr. Reese," Q spoke out loud, voice calm, even, the handler voice he used with his agent, too. "Unless you are the man who killed six CIA agents of the same wolf pack and two MI6 agents. Then we will bring you down."

Reese cocked one eyebrow. He was as tense as Bond. "I didn't kill my former pack."

So not werewolf, Q thought.

"Then it's someone with a major grudge," Bond rumbled, straightening his clothes. It was his only admission to a mostly defused situation.

"Someone who can walk up to a werewolf and kill him without ever raising suspicions," Q added.

::That narrows the list of possible suspects:: Finch said thoughtfully.

"Quite," the quartermaster agreed. "Four of the pack were killed in a very personal matter, two from long-distance by a headshot. Their bodies were burned to insure the death was permanent."

Werewolves were resilient and very hard to kill, not unlike a phoenix, though for them there was something like a kill-shot. Burning the body always assured there would be no survival.

Q's cell phone announced an incoming call. He didn't make much fuss about it, simply routed it through the comm. devices.

"Agent Leiter," he greeted the caller.

Reese raised an eyebrow in mild surprise at the move. Like Finch he had no idea what Q was capable of. Only Bond looked neutral.

"You are on speaker," the technopath added.

"Evans is dead," Leiter only said, his voice holding that barely restrained anger of a failed protection detailed.

"How?" Bond only asked.

"Car accident. The car went up in flames. Looks like he was shot and incapacitated, then the vehicle was lit on fire."

"When did that happen?" Q wanted to know.

"Probably last night. ME's report is not in yet. Witnesses saw the car go up, but no one can say how the accident happened."

Bond's brows drew down. Reese just listened silently.

"Where is the alpha now?" Q asked calmly.

"Protective custody, though you can probably imagine how well that is going. Because of these events it was decided to put him into another pack."

"Ouch," Bond muttered.

"Oh yeah. It's a hoot. Fur's flying. Aside from Reese, he's the only one left."

Reese lifted a corner of his mouth. Bond mirrored the facial twitch.

"Any leads on your end?" Leiter asked.

"Maybe. Right now I can tell you that Reese had nothing to do with Evans' death."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I've been on his trail all day yesterday," Bond spoke up.

Reese smirked again.

"You know where he is?" Leiter demanded.

"I'm reasonably sure he is in New York," was the neutral answer.

"Bond…"

"We're not chasing down your agents, Felix. We're looking for the killer of ours."

It got him a sigh. "Right now I don't give a flying shit what Reese has been doing those last two years. If he has a target on his back, keep him alive. If he's involved, do what you have to."

That got him another raised eyebrow from Reese.

"I'll let you handle the Reese side. We'll make sure the alpha survives. We'll get this guy, James. For all our agents."

With that Leiter hung up.

"So now we've established you're not the pack killer," Q spoke up. "But you are a target, Mr. Reese."

"Whoever took out the pack is hunting werewolves. Not me."

"They are after the pack," Bond begged to differ. "You ran with them. You're part of them. Maybe the alpha is the next target and you'll be the last. Or maybe you're next." An almost cruel smile came to his lips. "And if you're next, you'd make the perfect bait."

::A very bad idea:: Finch could be heard.

"But the best I've heard all day," Reese only said.

::Mr. Reese…::

"My decision, Finch. They were my pack once, even if past actions speak for themselves. I'm not going to shed a tear about Snow, but the others weren't involved."

Q exchanged a look with his partner. Bond looked as intrigued as he felt. He might have to dig deeper into the CIA files again, take a stroll through the high security walls and past feral watchdogs.

::We can't be sure you are next::

"We can't be sure of anything unless we try." Q held the dark gaze of the other agent steadily.

He wasn't easily impressed, nor was he easily scared. He was a phoenix's partner, the quartermaster of MI6, and he had faced worse. He had looked into the void of Bond's soul, had seen the death and the primal thing he was underneath that human guise. He had looked into the eternity of his soul, the darkness that would never be tamed, and Reese was a puppy next to the man James Bond was.

A dangerous puppy, yes. One with a bite and no warning bark. One who could kill Q in ten inventive new ways, but he wasn't a killer or assassin. He was a man on a mission of his own, with a handler to keep him on an even path, just like Bond.

Hm.

Q held on to that thought and stored it for later exploration.

::How would you want to go about making Mr. Reese a target?:: Finch asked.

He didn't really sound happy about that.

"Place a few bread crumbs and wait for whoever follows them," Q answered easily. "And with the surveillance you have at your disposal, Mr. Finch, I believe we can work something out."

There was silence, then, ::Maybe we can::

"I'd like to propose a meeting."

Reese tensed and there was renewed silence on the other end of the comm. line.

"We're on the same side," Bond added evenly, looking at Reese.

"Your decision, Finch," the other agent only said.

"Your terms," Q offered.

There was a soft sigh. ::A meeting can be arranged::

"Thank you," Q only said.

tbc...