The Plastow Residence, 14 years previously
"Want to see something cool?" whispered Phillip.
Arthur looked up from his laptop and gave him a skeptical once-over. "If it involves anything illegal that could get me in trouble then no," he stated, returning to his assignment.
"Oh."
Q looked up again. "Wait. You mean it IS illegal?"
Phillip frowned. "I'm not sure. Is voyeurism illegal?"
Arthur shrugged. "I'm not sure either though more than likely the legality is subject to what side of the fence from which you are engaged in the activity."
Phillip had sat down opposite him while he was speaking. Arthur knew Phillip had been crushing on him for some months now but had deftly avoided the subject. They shared many of the same classes, had lunch together and studied several times a week together, usually at Phillips house, being closer to Harrow. He wasn't quite sure where his own personal proclivities lay on the matter. He was not, in fact aware of any form of sexual awakening yet. He'd put it down to being a late bloomer. When it happens, it happens. One has to be pragmatic about these things.
"Come on," he said conspiratorially, a wicked glint in his eye. "Indulge me."
Arthur sat back and folded his arms, putting up a show of resistance. "Indulging you rarely ends well for me, Phillip."
"Please?"
Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically. "Fine," he huffed as he moved to his feet and closed the laptop. Sexual proclivities aside, he was learning rather quickly he had a bit of a weakness for the bad boys.
"Wait," whispered Arthur, feeling like the worst kind of intruder as he looked around the upstairs space they had invaded, a worried furrow starting to crease his brow. "Who's room is this?" as Phillip bustled him through the curtains shielding the adjoining doors to another bedroom.
"Ssshhh, Arthur. She'll be here any minute."
Arthur felt the colour drain from his face as the realisation sunk in. "This is your sis—?" but he didn't get to finish his sentence. In that moment, the door to his sister's bedroom was flung open and in flounced all blossoming 16 years of Stephanie Plastow.
Present Day
"Ahhh," breathed Bond, inhaling deeply. "I love the smell of Jaffa in the morning."
Q watched the push and pull in the crowded flea market, Bond making his way with relative ease despite the deluge of bodies, to the designated meeting point.
"And what does Jaffa smell like?"
"Haven't you been this further afield, Q? Tel Aviv is a city worthy of your time."
"I prefer to bring the world to me. Travel and I don't much care for each other."
"Mmmm," said Bond. "We may have to rectify that."
"Oh?" And how do you plan to do that, Mr Bond?" Q challenged.
"I have my methods," Bond replied lightly. "Full of surprises me. You've barely scratched the surface, Q. And I imagine there are many more delights yet to discovered beneath the cool veneer of my Quartermaster. I'm practically salivating at the thought," he murmured as though lost in some weird fantasy involving Q, sedatives, a plane and a hotel room somewhere in the city.
"That might have more to do with the food vendor to your right, 007."
Bond chuckled. "We'll put this conversation on the back burner for now, Q. I think I've spotted my contact."
He turned his body so the camera was facing the approaching woman. Q found himself squinting at the screen, her outline still a little blurry because of the signal. Memories dusted themselves off in the archives of his own mind. Familiar, he thought to himself, why does she look… so familiar…
Back in time, Back at the Plastow Home
The door was flung shut, her bag dropped unceremoniously on a nearby chair as Stephanie herself flopped backwards onto her bed.
"Men…" she muttered to herself, mouth thin, features drawn slightly, masking some of the real beauty beneath.
She stood and began to divest herself of her clothes.
Arthur couldn't tear his eyes away, biting his knuckles to keep from making any sounds that might betray their presence. He looked at Phillip who was smiling wickedly, all the while warring with his own mind thinking of ways of murdering his friend for putting him in such a precarious position while trying NOT to look at the graceful litheness swimming in front of his vision. He'd never seen a naked girl, woman, whatever before. Wait... Does your mother count? No. Not unless you get aroused at the sight of your naked mum... Oh God...
She was long and lean and while the beginnings of womanhood were just starting to make their presence felt, Stephanie's obsession with a multitude of sporty activities meant she was all firm, hard planes of muscle beneath the barest of curves.
He glanced back at Phillip, watching him with evil amusement painted across his features, his smile not abated one little bit. It was only when she turned around that Arthur couldn't contain the gasp that escaped his throat. Her back was covered in scars, some healing, some that looked barely a week old.
Stephanie swung round at the sound and immediately strode towards the door in her still mostly nude state and grabbed to throw back the curtains. Both boys back away from the thunderous look on her face.
"What the hell do you two think you are doing?!" she screamed. "Out! OUT! OUT!"
Arthur didn't have to be told twice. Until he felt the grab of her hand on his upper arm, dragged back to face her before he could complete his retreat.
The look in her eye was pure venom. The threat was clear. "And if you tell anyone, if you mutter a word to a single soul…" her face was inches from his, "…I will tell everyone what a pervert you are and you'll be kicked out of that precious bloody school of yours so fast your head will end up in orbit."
Arthur nodded, rendered mute in the wake of her fury and threats, before wrenching his arm free and making a swift exit.
Needless to say, he didn't study at the Plastows very often after that.
Present Day, Tel Aviv.
The contact made her way smoothly towards Bond, holding his gaze, while back in Q Division, the Quartermaster kept his gaze fixed firmly on her. She moved the shawl that had been covering the lower half of her face to reveal a demure smile.
Eyes that have seen far too much, was Bond's first thought, extending his hand in greeting.
"Mr Bond? A pleasure to meet you. I'm Stephanie Plastow."