Second date

Quentin considered himself a cautious person. Even when taking risks he tried to cover all eventualities in advance to reduce these risks as much as possible.

One of his most recent safeguards was an alert left within the organisation whose attention he had drawn, which focussed on a series of keywords – a combination of the capital letter 'Q' with target, Trevelyan or hacker.

So far it had kept him up to date on the reports about his interference before. Nothing too worrisome yet. They were trying to find him, it seemed, but he could find no specific threat of hunting him down.

This, though, this was unexpected. It could very well be a trap. It would be logical for them to try and trap him. And yet… what if it wasn't?

He shouldn't risk his own safety like this, but he was good at what he did. Q was aware that he was objectively quite intelligent and all he really needed was to be smarter than them. If he could do that then they wouldn't be able to catch him even if he did take the bait. And he had to take it, because he'd never forgive himself if this was real, if he could have helped but did nothing.

But Q wouldn't be Q if he was going to jump in blindly and took the whole thing on faith.

So he dug deep into MI6's systems, using a programme of his own design to disguise his presence so no warning signals were tripped. He looked through everything related to the current situation with an analytic eye; mission reports, threat analysis, everything he could get his digital hands on. Then he moved on to trace an Agent Bond's footsteps as best he could by other means than MI6, using camera footage, social media and other electronics near to where the man's mission had taken him to find traces of the agent's presence.

In the end everything seemed consistent, but he didn't have enough data to track the blue-eyed agent down. He needed more than what he could find in their files – a concrete link such as a name, a photograph or a phone to track.

Or just more time.

But if he understood the situation correctly, time was rather pressing.

He went back to the initial message, a message from the agency that had likely been entered into the system by their quartermaster branch where Q would easily find it.

Requesting his help.

For a long moment he hesitated, and then he sighed and disembarked the train.

To do something stupid.

Not quite a mistake, because he was well aware of how risky it was and still consciously decided on taking the chance. It could be a severe miscalculation, but Q did it anyway.

He turned down a familiar path and entered the Sheffield Botanical Gardens. Once there he sought an out of the way place, set up his laptop, took out his burner phone and made the call. Not to the number he'd been requested to call in the message, of course, which would undoubtedly lead to the quartermaster branch – or worse. No, if he was getting involved than he was doing it on his own terms. And he dug deeply enough in MI6's system to find exactly who Bond was supposedly friends with – and who was likely behind the message to Q in the first place.

"Is your friend truly missing, Agent Trevelyan," he said immediately when he heard the phone connect, "or is this a very elaborate trap?"

There was a moment of very loud silence on the other side, one that did little to soothe his nerves.

"Is that you, Q?"

He felt a jolt of surprise run though him at hearing the other man's voice for the first time. "Yes," he said softly, feeling far more subdued than in their earlier banter – partly due to the fact that this man's friend could be in significant danger but also because they were actually speaking to each other now. One layer of anonymity had fallen away and it left him feeling rather exposed.

"Bond's in trouble," Agent Trevelyan told him in a deep, rumbling voice, "I'm here, on the ground and I still can't find a trace of him."

"No trace at all?" Q asked with a frown, "Because you need to give me something Agent Trevelyan. Something more than available on MI6 servers. A name of someone involved, technology Bond might be carrying that I can trace, even the serial number of the mobile phone or earpiece that he carried would help. No identification number is listed on his equipment form and MI6 has issues hundreds of either to their employees over the years. I need to know which needle I'm trying to find."

"I've already tried calling him, Q. His phone is dead."

Q shook his head, even if the man couldn't see it. A habit he'd never quite broken. "Even if it's dead now, I might be able to find a trace of where it was before," he explained, "Link your mobile up to your laptop."

"Why?" the agent asked, but from the sounds of it he was doing something – hopefully exactly as Q told him.

"Because, agent, I will help you find your friend," Q infused his voice with as much confidence as he could muster, which drained away quickly when he realised that this may still be just MI6 driving him into a corner, "…or, alternatively, walk right into your trap. I'm clever, though, so I'm confident that I'll manage to walk right back out again."

He was partly bluffing, but saying it out loud made him feel better about doing this anyway.

"Not a trap," Trevelyan promised him, tone not placating but steady and serious. Quentin wanted to believe in that but wasn't sure if he should. Either way, he'd already made his choice.

Q breathed in and out. "For the sake of a certain missing agent, I will have to believe that."

"It's linked up," the agent informed him a moment later.

"Good," he said, forcefully dragging his focus back to the matter at hand – the man that they were both committed to rescuing. "You're in the Lotus Hotel, room 59? Ah here we are, hello there agent."

"Did you hack into the hotel's cameras?"

"I did," Q admitted, "but I can assure you that there are no security cameras in your room. Aside, of course, from the built-in camera in your laptop – which you of all people should know better than to keep uncovered. Did you not notice where the feed I showed you of the late Mr. Tseng originated from? You may believe your laptop is secure because it was issued by MI6, but I would caution you not to be too overconfident in their cyber security. Nothing is every truly secure or untraceable and, as H8 might attest, arrogance has been many a hacker's downfall."

Trevelyan just hummed, a sound that could mean either agreement or scepticism and Q fell silent for a moment, though his fingers never stopped running over his keyboard. "Yes, I do realise the irony in my own actions," he finally said, not sure why he felt the need to add this, "the difference is that I am quite aware of the risks of helping you."

"Then why do you?"

Q was silent again, unsure of what to say. He had a handful of truths that he could give, such as that he held some pride and loyalty to his own country and that he respected those who risked their lives and safety for them all. Or that no-one deserved a fate such as might be awaiting Agent Bond. He could say that it was the right thing to do – the only choice his own morals would allow him to make in this situation. He could even admit that for some incomprehensible reason he felt rather inclined to help simply because Agent Trevelyan had asked him to, despite never having met the man in person.

But in the end what he said was just this; "Because I want to, agent. Now shush and let me work."

"Very well, Q, I'm shushing."

Q's typing faltered for a moment before he shook his head and forged on. How was it even possible for someone to make something so simple sound this scandalous?

He worked on tracking Bond's mobile from the call Agent Trevelyan had made to the number before and smiled at the fact that even while the other agent dutifully remained silent, he didn't hang up. The sound of his own typing was the only one to fill the silence, his burner not good enough to bring across the background sound of Trevelyan's breathing.

But he knew that the man was there and for some reason that was a nice thought.

"Ah," Q said out loud when he found what he was looking for.

"Did you find him, Q?"

"I found something," he replied, still frowning at his laptop, "this is, however, an area without much in the way of camera surveillance. Which means my long-distance options are rather limited here."

"My turn then," Trevelyan said, standing up and preparing his weapons.

"Do you have an earpiece, agent?"

"Yes. It's linked up to MI6."

He fell silent for a moment, because of course it was linked to MI6. This man was one of their operatives – and another one of their operatives had gone missing. The organisation was well and truly involved, it was Q who had no place here – who was the intruder. He'd just forgotten for a moment, caught up in his own world as he tended to get.

"Well, I suppose you could take all of this and inform your agency that you have a lead. That would be logical. I'm sure they can handle it from here."

Alec purposefully turned towards the laptop camera, with a grin on his face that hinted at trouble. "I thought you didn't want to overestimate our tech abilities?"

"Ah, I apologize for the insult. I tend to get overly honest when I'm nervous."

"Competence and honesty, how very refreshing," Trevelyan drawled in an amused tone.

The grin was lost from his face a moment later, a more serious look taking its place. "I could use your help on this, Q. We don't have enough to be certain – if I call MI6 in now, that will make it far more difficult for you to assist later if this doesn't get us what we need. And I need to find him. I won't chance his life on the efforts of our tech branch."

And Q was perfectly aware that his could still be a trap – while he believed that Bond was truly in trouble, that fact didn't automatically negate the possibility that at the end of this, Trevelyan would find a way to inform MI6, and would hunt him down.

The more Q got involved, the more time he spent helping this agent the larger the chance that he would leave a trace, that he'd give something away that could lead to him.

And yet, there was no way he could say no.

"Alright. Serial number please?" Q said, hoping he sounded brave and determined, instead of as shaky as he felt.

Trevelyan rattled off the number on his earpiece and Q re-routed it to himself, a far more tangible link than he liked to allow on his own laptop, but it couldn't be helped.

If he was doing this than he was doing this. A life depended on him not messing this up – somewhere out there was a blond, blue-eyed man with a charming smile, a soldier, a defender, a friend and, to Quentin, a total stranger. But one who counted on him all the same.

"I've got you, Trevelyan," he said over the phone before hanging up. Moments later he heard the man's voice through the computer headset he hastily put on. "Q?"

And yes, he was getting used to being called by his hacker name in that slow, considering voice.

"I'm here," he affirmed, "Let's go and get your friend, Agent Trevelyan."

It was quite something, supporting an operative during a real-life mission. Even if it was an unofficial one. Lives were at stake – both Trevelyan and Bond were counting on him and one mistake on Q's part could cost them both dearly.

It was utterly nerve-wrecking in that regard.

And yet, testing his skills like this against criminals – uncovering information as quickly as he could because Trevelyan was right there on the ground and couldn't afford to wait… Yes, Q could admit that despite the way his heart was beating manically, he did actually thrive with the challenge of it all. His agent was depending on him and Q would damn well deliver, but this left him no time to focus on his own cyber defence.

So Q had to trust in the security he had set up in advance – which was, of course, as secure as he could make it. But the best defence was unpredictability and decreasing the length of exposure. He couldn't shift his defences or back-hack and he couldn't kill the connection he was piggybacking on at MI6 because that would also kill the connection he had with Trevelyan.

Records on Bond's mobile phone had led him close and Trevelyan sniffing around and luring in some of the bad guys had quickly provided Q with further leads. It gave him faces and mobile phones, which meant he had more tangible and up-to-date connections to trace. From there it wasn't a matter of difficulty but of speed. Phone records, remote activation of GPS, hacking into security cameras… and there he was.

"I have eyes on Bond," he informed his agent. "There's three men, erm… well, beating him up. And one apparently monologuing. Fortunately there is no sound."

It was only partly a joke in the hopes to lighten the mood and calm his own nervousness, but in truth he was glad that he didn't need to hear these proceedings. The video footage was bad enough as it was and made him grimace with a sympathy that bordered on panic whenever a blow connected. He swallowed it down, though, and told himself to focus.

"Where?" Trevelyan asked with a calm, deep voice that managed to ground him a little further.

"Old office building, on a parallel street to your left. Number 100. Do not enter."

The GPS showed that his agent was already moving towards the building he had indicated. "What, you want invite them over for tea first?" the man asked him sarcastically.

Q snorted and hacked into the security system as quickly as he could, calling up the blueprints to the building on his split screen. "I do enjoy a good cup of Earl Grey. But no. Sneaking in would be the most opportune way to go about things. There's a fire escape leading up to the second floor. It has an electronic lock that I am now ready to open for you."

Trevelyan paused but, to Q's surprise due to the mission files he'd read, actually did as he was told. Biting his lip, the hacker hesitated for a moment between the feed from Bond and the blueprints but in the end minimalized the blueprints on the screen, replacing them with security footage of the hallway Agent Trevelyan would end up in.

"I need more screens," he complained out loud, because this whole set-up wasn't exactly ideal for his purposes. His laptop was customised to his requirements, of course, but didn't allow him to multitask as much as he wanted – no, needed to.

The only thing that would make the circumstances for hacking even worse was if an employee of his current location showed up to kick him out. A distinct possibility, because the sky was already darkening slightly and he was barely aware of the current time. A glance at the bottom right of the screen gave him no more than 30 minutes before the Botanical Gardens closed for the day.

"Two bad guys in the hallway, to your left after you enter," Q cautioned the man.

The agent entered and shot them both with little fanfare. "Bad guys? Really?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you have a preferred term?" he shot back, trying to ignore his queasy stomach at the ease with which these men had died. At Q's call.

Trevelyan snorted, "MI6 generally uses hostiles."

"If you wanted MI6, you need only have asked," Q sniped back. "Bond is on the other side of the building. There's quite a few 'hostiles' in between. I dare say that even you couldn't take all of them out before one of them triggers the alarm."

"That just means I get to do this the old-fashioned way," the man responded far too happily.

"Or I could trigger the security alarm for the downstairs entrance to lure some of them away? I could shut down the access to camera surveillance on their side as well, so they don't notice the discrepancy."

"Oh, a diversion. Haven't pulled that one in a while. At least not without explosives. Well, I would hate to spoil your fun. Have at it, Q." Trevelyan made it sound like it was all just a game. Like he couldn't be shot dead just as easily as those two unmoving men in the hallway if one of them slipped up.

And the agent was right, of course, there was nothing to worry about because Q certainly wasn't going to mess this up. "The room two doors to your right should be empty. Hide out for a moment."

To his relief the diversion actually worked to some extent. Of course, this also meant they had to be fast. "The elevator doors are closed, go."

Trevelyan must have agreed with Q's urgency, because he moved quickly through the hallways. "Two men outside of Bond's room. Still four inside."

An exchange of gunfire sounded too loudly through the coms and Q held his breath for a moment, but the camera in the hallway showed that Trevelyan was still standing while the other men were down.

"The hostiles in Bond's room have their guns aimed at the door, agent."

They waited for a moment, but there was no movement towards the hallway. "Can I shoot them through the door?"

"The mechanics of guns are not exactly one of my strong points, agent. But from the looks of it, the door is reinforced, whereas the walls are paper-thin."

He could see Trevelyan shake his head on the camera footage. "I was referring to their positioning in the room, but that's not a bad suggestion."

"Take the room to the right, it should provide you with the best sightlines."

The man did has he said. "In position, tell me where they are."

It was only now that Q realised what a ridiculous idea that was. "This seems like a highly improbable shot, agent. What if you shoot Bond by mistake?"

"That's why you're going to tell me where to aim, of course," Trevelyan told him calmly.

"There is no way I can do so accurately enough for you to shoot them blindly. Let's go with a different idea," he responded, speaking just a bit too rapidly.

"Oh, no, I like this one. Breathe, Q. Tell me first of all where James is."

Q closed his eyes for a brief moment and breathed deeply. It was sound advice after all. Then he refocussed. "Bond is tied to a chair, in roughly the middle of the room, back to your wall."

"I'll aim high then. The hostiles?"

"There are two on both sides of the door, shoulders against the wall, ducked down to roughly seventy percent of their height, which is similar to your own. There is one behind and a bit to the right of Bond's chair and their supposed leader nearer to the window, about five feet away from it."

Q was quite ready to keep talking, to note every little detail he could discern from the camera feed, but before he was fully prepared for it, loud pops of gunfire sounded. When he had fully registered the sound, Trevelyan had already dodged back into the hallway again, aiming at the door.

Everything was happening too fast for Q to say or do anything further – the door to the hallway opened, expelling a man who fell to the ground only seconds later. Then Trevelyan was inside, shooting the last man standing, the man nearest to Bond, and then all was quiet.

"Good afternoon, James," Trevelyan greeted casually.

"Alec. I don't suppose you'd like to help me out of these?" Q just barely picked up on the cultured voice through the earpiece.

His own agent heaved a sigh as if it was a chore but did, in fact, help his colleague get free.

A soft ping of an alert he'd put in the security system only moments earlier drew his attention. A string of text later and he had most of the bad guys trapped in the elevators. Unfortunately, some of them had elected to take the stairs. "Some of our more athletic friends are using the stairs to re-join your party. Unlike the lazy ones stuck between floors, these men I can't stop. Might I suggest a quick exit by the same route as your entry?"

"You want us to leave without saying goodbye? But that would be rude."

Q shook his head with something close the exasperation. "While I'm sure you are usually a perfect gentleman, perhaps providing Agent Bond with some proper medical aid is more important than 'politeness' in this case?"

Trevelyan's returning banter was half-lost to him under the sound of the announcement that the Botanical Gardens would be closing in ten minutes and to 'please make your way to the exit'.

Because of course. His voice was tight when he ordered; "Hurry up and get out of there, Trevelyan. Now."

The agent listened. The other man half-carried Bond out to the fire escape and Q activated the electronic lock behind them. He held his breath as the two blond agents set foot on solid ground and slowly put distance between themselves and the building.

"Sir, you need to leave. We're closing."

Q jumped at the interruption and looked up at the security guard. "Ah, yes, of course, apologies."

The man nodded at him amiably and thankfully continued on to chase off other stragglers.

"Apologies for what?" his agent asked, "What was the rush, anyway?"

Q cleared his throat and shut down most of his programs. "It appears that I have overstayed my welcome, Agent Trevelyan, I trust you will be fine from here on?"

"You've overstayed your welcome?" the Russian repeated in a tighter voice than Q was accustomed to from the man, "In my experience that means people are shooting at you. Are people shooting at you, Q?"

"Thankfully, no. But it's closing time. Which means I have to leave. Surely you didn't expect me to hack into MI6 from home?"

"Wait, is that why you had us rushing from the building as if it was going to blow up? It's closing time? Where the hell are you?"

"I'm a hacker, Agent Trevelyan. If you wanted someone who only had eyes for you, you should have requested for your own tech support to provide assistance."

"Ah, but you're so much more fun, Q."

"You-," Q stammered, "You are quite impossible. Do take care of your friend."

"Wait," the agent ordered.

Q, fool that he was, waited, a creeping feeling in his gut said that his agents had gotten away too easily. Was a group of heavily armed men even now closing in on the two men? Had Q made a grave error in allowing himself to be distracted by trivial matters?

"You forgot to give me your contact details," the agent said, voice exuding a roguish kind of charm, "You know, so I can say thank you. With flowers. Or vodka."

That man was utterly, infuriatingly impossible. He breathed out and informed his heart that it could pick up its regular rhythm again.

"I prefer Earl Grey. And you're quite welcome. Q signing off."

A.N. I don't know why James always ends up the damsel in distress in my stories. To be fair, though, he does have a habit of getting deep into trouble. Maybe one day I will actually write him as the badass, cool as a cucumber agent he rightfully is.