Next chapter is the last one, everybody. Thanks for reading!
Chapter 16
While Q worked with R, James visited the shooting range. He practiced on near and far targets as well as moving ones. M had been complaining about James' lack of interest in regular training, noting that the last time James was even in the shooting range he was only there to speak with Eve. And his last hand to hand combat training was months ago. Honestly, the hand to hand would be more fun, but he'd just taken a shower.
Just over two hours passed with James either shooting or discussing ammunition with the agent posted at the desk. He was back shooting when a hand clapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Turning, he saw Q, a tired smile on his face. James lowered and emptied his weapon before removing his headphones.
"R&D still standing?" he asked, partly as a joke. He took his things to the counter to return them.
"I suppose so. It's a bit chaotic at the moment, but there's nothing more we can do now," Q said and ran a hand through his hair. He had a satchel slung across his chest but it seemed quite light. "We had a lead on Blofeld, just for a second. He was at the train station, but we were having a hard time figuring out which train he got on."
"The London bound train." There was no doubt in James' mind, and he spoke blandly as he grabbed his bag of clothes and walked out with Q.
The younger man laughed softly. "Of course you'd know instantly," he said. "Yes. We eventually found him heading south. Itineraries show his train arrived on schedule, but cameras caught no sight of him exiting with the other passengers. We have facial recognition scanning through every camera in the station as well as a separate scan going through cameras in other high profile areas around the city. He has to pop up somewhere. He can't just vanish."
"Should you be leaving, then?" James asked just as they stepped outside. Unlike the three-day-burnout Q had run immediately upon being hired, this was an actual active situation. This was the kind of information that kept agents on lockdown at their desks. "There are day beds in the building. If you need to stay-"
"Nonsense. You're the one who told me not to burn myself out. Besides, my phone is connected to the system, so if anything changes I'll know. Plus R left some bright young people in charge. I'm sure they can handle things for a few hours while R and I get some rest." Q raised his hand, catching a cab.
It was a miracle James was able to hold back his snarky comment about being surprised R didn't live in the air vents at the office. Instead he just made a noncommittal sound and slipped into the cab after Q. The driver pulled away from the curb and into the traffic of mid-day London. In the back seat, James looked over at Q and slipped his hand over the younger man's, and then he smiled when Q turned his hand over to link their fingers.
"You don't mind it?" James asked when he realized how often he thought of Q's age. "The age difference?"
Q rolled his eyes, but James didn't feel dismissed. "Of course it was a concern," he admitted. "But honestly I've always known I wouldn't end up in a traditional relationship. As I told Eve on more than one occasion, I was more worried you'd be put off at the idea of cradle robbing." He shook his head and let out a short sigh. "No, James. The age disparity is not a deciding factor."
"Well that is a relief," James said, and there was enough of a lilt in his voice to cause Q to look hard at him, trying to decide if he was teasing or not.
With narrowed gaze and pursed lips, he examined the agent for a good long moment, but then he relaxed and shrugged it off. As he relaxed into the seat again, he jolted slightly and then sat back up. "Oh, I almost forgot." He pulled his hand from James' to retrieve something from his satchel.
"A watch?" James asked as Q offered it to him. It was the one he'd seen the programmer tinkering with down in R&D. "Does it do anything?"
"It tells the time." Q gave a little half shrug as he clicked the watch securely on James' wrist. After admiring his handiwork and how perfectly he'd gotten it to fit, he sat back and added, "But, I should warn you, the alarm is a bit loud, if you catch my meaning."
Impressive. James raised a surprised eyebrow. There was a bomb of some kind in the watch? So small, so convert. Q was mastering this deception thing already. Pride and, sod it, love swelled in his chest at how brilliant Q was. "Consider it caught," he said before leaning across the cab to catch Q in another kiss.
And another. And one more for good measure.
"Oi," the cab driver exclaimed, looking back at them in the rearview.
"Oi, yourself! Fuck off, mate," Q shot back and even threw in a glare and a middle finger.
James couldn't help but laugh. Q switched so swiftly between average London citizen and eloquent programmer that it was amazing he didn't get verbal whiplash. The laugh drew Q's attention back to him and the younger man muttered, "Shut up," before kissing James again. The agent slipped his hand up onto Q's shoulder to hold him close and let his eyes slide shut.
Kissing Q was an exercise James would gladly take up at any time, and he enjoyed the press of soft yet slightly chapped lips against his, which he could only imagine were dry from age as much as anything else. But Q didn't seem to mind at all.
The taxi went over a bump and James' eyes glanced past Q between kisses. His hand on Q's shoulder tensed and he pushed the younger man back slightly. This was not the way to James' flat, nor was it the way to Q's home.
"Where are we going?" James asked and cursed himself for not paying attention to his surroundings.
Confused, Q turned to look out all the windows, but it was the cabbie who spoke. "Home, of course. You want to be with your family, don't you?"
"… My parent's?" Q asked. Then, with more certainty, he said, "This is the way to my mum's house."
James' mouth pressed into a thin line and he leaned forward, using the passenger seat for leverage. "What's going on? Who told you-" He stopped. He stopped because he recognized the driver from photographs and video surveillance. Damn. "Blofeld."
"Blofeld?" Q asked in shock. His hand disappeared into his satchel, but James didn't worry about him pulling out a weapon. Q was smarter than to injure the driver of a car they were in.
"Nice to finally meet you in person, James," Ernst Blofeld said with a smug grin. "After all the noise you've been making, I thought you'd be pleased to see my attention is finally on you."
The best plan of action… If they got to Q's parent's house, whatever Blofeld was planning would be one step closer to completion. But if they took Blofeld out now, they could end up in the river or killing civilians on the street or simply be the victims of an out of control car crash. Normally, Bond would calculate the best time to take Blofeld out in the car with the least likely chance of injured innocents and not worry about his own safety, but Q was in the car too. He couldn't guarantee the young programmer's life in such an event.
"Do I not look pleased?" James asked, his face set in a monotonous expression.
Blofeld shrugged as he turned a corner. "I think you looked rather pleased a minute ago. You know, for all my recent surveillance on you, I had no idea you were in a relationship with my saboteur. If I'd known that, I would have planned this day to be far more special. But then again, I suppose I could add some last minute flair."
"And what exactly do you have planned for today?" James was buying time, and Blofeld undoubtedly knew that. The agent's eyes scanned the scenery outside, but also kept an eye on any movement by Blofeld. "It's not my birthday."
The older man laughed deep in his throat. "Oh, James. Today is much better than a birthday. Today is the day this ends." As the cab turned onto a new street, Q tensed in the back seat and James knew they were on the last road. "Today is the day I take everything from you."
Incapacitating Blofeld before they arrived was too risky, so James dropped back into his seat and took up Q's hand instead. Eyes still on the back of Blofeld's head, he leaned close to Q. "When the car stops," he whispered, "Find a place to take cover."
"And what about you? My parents? Marnie?" Q asked just as quietly.
"I'll take care of Blofeld. Then your family will be safe." He kissed Q's knuckles, which seemed to catch the young man off guard. "I promise."
When the shock of the gentle kiss wore off, Q nodded and closed his eyes. "This job… It's like fencing," he said, and James nodded too. The job was a constant game of rock, paper, scissors. The hard part was figuring out what each counter was. "Alright. I trust you. You taught me to fence, after all."
In the front seat, Blofeld exclaimed, "An awful lot of whispering back there! I wouldn't plan a coup just yet, boys. Look up ahead. I've got a present waiting for you."
The cab was slowing to a stop, and they could see Q's parent's house just ahead. Two men were standing on either side of a well used family car, trying and failing to not look too conspicuous. The closer they got, the easier it was to tell that people were in the car and that those people were Q's family. The men outside the car smirked when the cab stopped.
"Now play nice, boys, or I can't guarantee the safety of this lovely family." Blofeld turned slightly in his seat to grin maniacally back at them. "Well, if I'm being honest, I can't really guarantee their safety anyway. I mean, I do plan to kill all of you eventually, after all. Your family, little Daniel, is just the unfortunate collateral damage." Then he motioned for them to get out of the cab on the side nearest the house.
Q was tense and silent, his eyes on the little silver car his father drove into the city center almost every day. When the three of them were out of the cab, Blofeld turned to them with a gun out but held close to his body.
"The two of you have been quite a nuisance for me," he said. "You killed several of my agents, one in my favorite backyard, right here in the supply chain. The young Carver among those bodies was a very promising protégé of mine. Carver Sr. has been missing for some time now as well, and I can only assume you're the ones behind it. But after poking your noses into my business in America? In Africa? I'm afraid this is the last straw."
James did his best to look unconcerned while Q fidgeted with his sleeves. "Well, you shouldn't start fights in other people's backyards if you aren't prepared to take a few punches."
"Enough punches have been thrown, I think," Blofeld sneered and raised his gun slightly. One of the men by the family car moved then, pulling a small remote from his pocket. "You remember the device I built in the colonies, don't you, Mr. Bond?"
The high frequency machine that turned people into fighting monsters. James frowned hard and tried not to remember how infuriatingly out of control he'd felt back then. But why bring it up now? His eyes flickered to the car and the remote. As the guard smirked and turned to stare in at his terrified hostages, James saw the small spot of color on the man's ear. Or, more precisely, in it. He was wearing some type of ear plug. James' eyes darted to the other guard and saw the same thing.
"A small version of the device is in the car," Blofeld said. "I'm going to turn it on, and then I'm going to make you watch as this family tears itself apart – literally. And if you make a single move to help them, I'll shoot you both."
With Q as collateral and Blofeld with the gun and out of reach, James wasn't sure how to stop the guard from turning on the machine. If only they could take out that concern – then James could take out the guards and Blofeld without worrying. He might take a bullet, but that was nothing new. But if he attacked Blofeld, the device would turn on and Q's family would kill each other. If he even moved to make such an attack, Blofeld could shoot Q. Damn it.
"James," Q murmured, hand on his right wrist, tightening and loosening his watch over and over again. "Remember what I told you in the car?"
"Yes," James said, and touched his own watch. "Do you remember what I told you?" About taking cover?
"Yes." Q swallowed thickly.
"Aw, are we witnessing your final goodbyes?" Blofeld asked with saccharine sweetness. He chuckled lightly and glanced over at his men, prepared to give the final order. "I'm afraid it's too late for-"
Before James could make a move, Q was ripping his own watch off and slinging it across the yard. It hit the pavement of the driveway and slid up under his father's car. Blofeld's jaw tensed and his eyes grew cold, but he couldn't even swear before the device in the watch went off.
Electricity struck out, tazing and stunning the guards on either side of the car but not reaching up through the rubber of the tires. As the guards hit the ground, Blofeld turned and shouted, gun raised up to aim at Q's heart. Q was already diving for cover behind the cab, and James was rushing Blofeld, and when the gun went off it didn't hit its target. It caught James in the side, just barely, and it stung and burned but he knew he'd survive it.
Disarming Blofeld was too easy, just a turn and flick of the wrist, and then an elbow to the face brought the man to his knees. For all his talk and bravado, he was just as fragile as anyone else. James flipped Blofeld's gun on its owner and his forehead crinkled in frustration.
"It's over," he said. Too easily, he thought. After all they went through, Blofeld made a terrible mistake by meeting them in person, and it ended without a bang. Disappointing.
When Blofeld began to chuckle again, the sound disrupted by his broken nose, Q poked his head out from where he hid. "I may not be a fighter," the older man said, "and you may have me beaten today, but this isn't over."
He held up one hand and revealed a small remote, identical to the one his guard had held. His expression was maniacally proud as he chuckled.
"Get Out Of The Car!" Q shouted, running from his protection and toward his family.
"Q!" James reached for the remote as the doors to the car popped open, but he couldn't stop Blofeld's thumb from pressing down hard on the button. "Bastard."
No new sound turned on, but the nearby animals fell instantly silent. The Adams' scrambled away, even as James could see the frequency confusing their brains. He snatched the remote from Blofeld and pressed the button again, but nothing happened. With the doors on the car open, the frequency was reaching them all, and Q covered his ears and hunched over less than ten feet from the source.
"Turn it off," James ordered, gun on Blofeld. He tossed the remote back. "Turn it off!"
Q's father was covering his wife, as if expecting an explosion, but his protective motion was quickly turning harsh as he began to squeeze her. Marnie was a gem, as always, and had quickly turned to sock her second brother in the jaw. A bout of sibling rivalry began to break out on the lawn.
"Silly, James," Blofeld laughed. "There is no way to turn it off."
With a growl, James snapped the butt of the gun into Blofeld's head and knocked him unconscious – possibly killed him – James didn't give a damn at the moment. He could feel his rage rising up, could see it crawling under the skin of Q and his family. They had to turn it off!
Quickly, James undid his new watch and then struggled to concentrate on hitting the alarm. Frustration and violent rage built up in his hands and he chucked the watch just as soon as he felt the button depress under his finger. It flew into the backseat of the silver car, bouncing slightly on the cushions.
And then it exploded. The silver family car jumped and then crumpled, its insides turned outside, and the whole family was blown back onto the ground. Q flew back so far that he collided with James and the two toppled over onto the sidewalk.
Hindsight hit James almost as hard as Q, and he realized he should have shouted some kind of warning. Now a tangled heap on the ground, Q's siblings had been closest to the blast, and Q's parents had been knocked to their knees, his father now haphazardly pinning his mother to the dirt. A warning would have been good, even if they hadn't been able to listen.
"Sorry, Q," James groaned as the other scrambled to get purchase on the ground and roll off his boyfriend. "I broke your present already."
The others were starting to regain their faculties, slowly moving away from one another and staring in horror between the car and each other. At least they seemed to be without major injury. How was Q meant to explain this? Or would James need to do it? Damn, they'd probably get dragged in to see some blank faced suits who'd make them sign the Official Secrets Act. This was a lovely mess.
The young computer genius huffed out a whine of disbelief and set his hand on James' stomach. "Think nothing of it, Bond. I'll-" He stopped mid-word, and his face went pale as he lifted his hand from James' stomach and looked down at it. "James-"
"I'll be alright," James said, but he really needed to stop doing stupid shit like this. Moneypenny had a point sometimes. He was getting too old for near death experiences. "I just… need to lie down. Call Eve."
"Like hell I'm calling anyone else." Q said the words like a curse. He was already dialing and then glaring at nothing as he waited for her to pick up. "Eve, call your paramedics or your doctors or whoever. Bond is being a colossal prat and bleeding out on my parent's front drive. Yes. Also, there was an explosion. Or two. Listen, call who you need to call. I'm not familiar with the protocols yet. Just get someone over here."
After he hung up, James tried to laugh, but being shoved to the ground had worsened his wound, and he could only manage one chuckle before he cringed in pain. "You-," he began before needing to wait for the pain to subside. "You're going to fit in just fine."
"Shut up, you utter wanker," Q scolded, but he seemed to be blushing under his scowl. "How could you let yourself get shot? Honestly. I thought you were a Double O for a reason." He let out a sigh. "It seems they'll give out numbers to anyone these days."
James couldn't laugh, but he could smile, and he did. He wasn't worried about losing too much blood. The pressure Q was putting on his wound was enough to plug a river, after all. And he wasn't worried about losing Q either. The younger man had handled himself rather well in the altercation, and though he was shaken, he didn't look like his fighting spirit was dampened at all.
An image of Q in the locker room came to mind then, and James let out a soft sigh. Q wasn't as fragile as James kept thinking he was. And how lucky did that make James? Far too lucky, honestly. But James wasn't about to point that out.
