I don't own the characters or places!

M did indeed give James the mission to find out more about Marco Sciarra and his doings. Q discovered that they were not just involved in several weapons and drug deals, but also planned a bombing in Mexico City during the Day of the Dead festival, a national holiday that took place at the beginning of November. That would leave a little more than a week for James to get to Mexico City, find Sciarra and prevent the attack.

Unfortunately, it turned out that finding the man and his organisation wasn't as easy as expected. Even Q couldn't find many clues on their whereabouts and every trace James followed turned out to be a dead end. In the end, they had to accept that his only possibility was to act during the festivities. A risky plan, considering that people could get hurt. But there was no other way so James had to make the best of it.

The evening before he would need to act, he sat in the small hotel room he'd booked under a different name and opened his laptop. Q's image appeared on the screen only minutes after he'd started the device.

"Status report, 007?" He asked in his best Quartermaster's voice and James had to smile.

"The surroundings of the festivities are secure. I have an overview of the best hiding places and escape routes. And I've got my costume." He held up the horrible suit he'd acquired, completely in black and with white bones painted on the entire thing, like a skeleton. That, together with a hat and a fitting mask would make him unrecognisable.

Q grimaced. "Looks authentic." Was his only comment. "I have details about Sciarra's plans for tomorrow. There was an exchange via some emails which I could get access to." In short words, Q explained where Sciarra and his men planned to place the bomb and who their targets were. He also showed James the details on a map. Luckily, he knew where the buildings where and how to get on the rooftops.

"I'm not sure about their escape plan, but I suspect that they'll use a helicopter." Q finished his short report.

"A helicopter?" James echoed in surprise.

Q nodded. "One was stolen a few days ago. I found a few traces that lead to Sciarra."

"Anything else I should know about tomorrow?"

"Be careful." Q said, dropping the mask and letting his face show the concern he probably felt ever since James had left the country. "Stay alive. Don't take unnecessary risks."

"You know that I'm always careful." James threw in softly. Only now did he notice how tired his boyfriend looked. "You should get some sleep, Q. What time is it in London? Four in the morning?"

"Nearly five." Q muttered with a sigh and ran a hand through his curly hair. "I'll be fine, James."

"You've been up all night." He knew that Q could hear his concern. "Tomorrow, I need you at your best. You should also eat, by the way. Most probably, you've also forgotten that."

Q's lips twitched. "Moneypenny brought me some sandwiches for lunch."

"Lunch." James repeated. "That was more than twelve hours ago, Q."

"Alright, so maybe I've forgotten to eat." Q sighed. "I'll do that after I've gotten some sleep."

"Go home for that. Otherwise, the cats might feel alone." And I feel better when I know that you're sleeping in a real bed and not on the uncomfortable futon in your office, he added in his thoughts.

Q seemed to understand the unspoken meaning behind his words since his expression softened further. "Fine. But I'll be back before the festivities start. You'll need a guide for this mission."

James smiled. "I love you, Q."

Q's smile lit up his entire face. "I love you too, James."

The mission the next day didn't go well. At first, James had the feeling that he had the situation under control and could stop the bombing and the assassination it should hide. That was until the second bomb exploded right inside the building on which he was hiding. He was able to get away unharmed, but inwardly, he couldn't stop cursing. Why didn't they think of two bombs? How could they miss that?

He didn't have much time to think of it. Because one of the attackers could escape, a person James identified as Marco Sciarra. It led to a chase through Mexico City, in which he constantly had to remind himself that the festivities were still ongoing. It was hard to catch Sciarra in all this chaos, especially when a helicopter arrived, just like Q had predicted.

James couldn't get a hold of Marco Sciarra. He died when the helicopter crashed into one of the buildings. A catastrophe, considering that many civilians were hurt in the course of that. Most probably also something M wouldn't be happy about.

What he got, though, was a ring engraved with an octopus. A symbol for some secret organisation, James was sure of that. Which one it was, however, was a riddle to him.

His journey led him to Rome then. M insisted that after the incident in Mexico City, they couldn't let the trail go cold and sent James to Sciarra's funeral. He had a wife, so maybe she could tell James more about the work of her husband. Secretly, James had his doubts about it, but he knew that it was worth a try. That Q was positive about him getting more information there made it a little easier not to return home right away. He already missed his boyfriend terribly, even if he'd been gone only for a few days. James would also miss their usual Friday at the bar and was curious if Mary would show up again, but he knew that John and Greg could also deal with her on their own.

It turned out that M was right. Sciarra's wife indeed showed up at his funeral and she looked quite sad. A surprise to James, considering that wives of such men were rarely happy. But maybe it was just an act.

He decided to follow her after the funeral. When he discovered that he wasn't the only one, James felt no surprise at all. So maybe not such a happy marriage, after all. The villa Sciarra's wife went to was large and the interior was noble. Dark colours, mixed with gold. Whoever had chosen the interior did it with style.

The two men wanted to take her life in the garden of the house. Her name was Lucia, Q whispered into James' ear. Lucia Sciarra. James killed her pursuers before they could even realize that he was there. Afterwards, he stepped forward. Lucia didn't even flinch.

"I'm sorry for your loss." James said quietly. She stared at the pool in front of them and didn't look up.

"You knew my husband?" Her voice was deep. And there was no emotion in it when she spoke of her husband.

"All too briefly."

"What do you do?" A simple question. Innocent. If she wouldn't have been aware of her husband's doings.

"Life insurance." James replied smoothly. Through his earpiece, he could hear Q chuckle quietly.

"A little late for that." She muttered dryly.

"For your husband, yes. But what about you?" That finally got her attention and she turned to James with surprise on her face.

"Me?" She echoed.

"I hear the life expectancy of some widows can be very short." He said simply.

Her eyes widened. "How can you talk like this? Can't you see I'm grieving?"

"No." James answered the question honestly. He then turned back to the pool. "What a lovely view."

"You're wasting your time." Lucia's voice was colder now. Resigned. "There are hundreds more that will come after me. All you buy me is five minutes."

He grinned then. "Excellent. Time for a drink." Without waiting for a reply, he began to walk towards the house. He didn't look back to see if she was following.

When she finally came inside, James was already waiting for her on the couch, two drinks in front of him. He'd managed to find expensive Scotch in one of the cabinets. Surely a present, he doubted that Sciarra would buy it himself.

"You killed him, didn't you? My husband." Lucia said as soon as she sat down and took her glass.

James only smiled slightly. "He was an assassin. Trust me, he won't take it personally." He could literally feel Q rolling his eyes at this. They'd done this together a few times before, missions in which James had to get information out of someone. Q had always made fun of his flirting techniques afterwards. Secretly, James knew that it was just an act, though. He knew it wasn't easy for his boyfriend to be his guide in such situations. Just like it wasn't easy for James to lead on others like this. He'd done it before hundreds of times and never felt any regret. He'd even slept with many people willingly. But ever since he was with Q, things had changed. Only the thought of getting too close to someone else made him panic inwardly.

"You signed my death warrant. I was respected." Her face still showed no emotion.

"Loyal to a man you hated." James corrected her.

"He trusted my silence. With him gone, I'm a dead woman. I can trust nobody."

"I know that feeling well." Maybe he could get her to talk like this. Make her sympathise with him.

"Well, I can tell you that I don't trust you." Or maybe it wouldn't be so easy to get information from her, after all.

"Then you have impeccable instincts."

"If you don't leave now, we'll die together." Her voice was bitter.

"We won't." He argued simply. "You won't die tonight. Someone will get you out of here."

She only laughed. "If I give you information. I know how that game works."

"What have you to lose?" He quirked an eyebrow. "If they're already trying to take your life."

She looked at him for a long moment. "These people, if you just knew what they could do. The power they have." It took him a few seconds to realize that she was scared of the people her husband had dealt with.

"Maybe you can tell me more about it?" James asked.

She shook her head, but replied anyway. "The organisation, they hardly ever meet. But because of what happened to my husband, they meet tonight." Was it really that easy to get information out of her?

"Why?"

"To choose a replacement."

"Where?" It was the last piece of information he needed, then he could be gone.

"The Palazzo Cardenza. At midnight." She took a sip of her drink. "Those people are dangerous. My husband was obsessed. He spent more time with them than with me."

James stood up with a smile. "Then he was a fool. Someone will come and get you out of here soon." He looked around. "Just close all the doors and windows. And stay hidden."

He was already by the door when she called after him, asking for his name. He looked over his shoulder with a smile. "My name is Bond. James Bond." With that, he left.

He'd nearly reached his car when Q spoke. "Someone's already on his way to get her away from there. They should arrive within thirty minutes."

James smiled, even if his boyfriend couldn't see it. "Thank you, Q."

"Do you think it's true what she told you? I have already checked the location and there really seems to be some sort of event tonight. But there is no information on what it might be."

"I think it's true. She might not know much of her husband's doings, but he seemed to meet with those people regularly." He added the Palazzo Cardenza to the navigation system and began to drive through the city.

"Please be careful, James. It sounds very dangerous for you to go there all on your own." Q's voice sounded steady, but James knew him well enough to know that he was worried. Terribly so.

"Everything will be alright. You don't need to worry, Q." After a short moment of silence, he spoke again. "I promise to take no unnecessary risks."

"Thank you." Q sounded relieved. "You still have two hours until the meeting starts. How will you spend them?"

He smiled again. "Tell me about your day."

When Q laughed, James felt like he could deal with that organisation all by himself.

He couldn't. It was obvious as soon as he'd sneaked into the location with the stolen ring and they knew that he was there anyway. The leader of the meeting even talked to him by his name, something that unnerved James very much. The voice was also slightly familiar, but he could by no means tell where he'd heard it or to whom it belonged.

Only after a spectacular chase through Rome that let his brand new car Q had gotten him drown in the Tiber did James remember where he'd heard the voice before. But it was impossible. "Q, please check something for me." He muttered while he walked through the streets and away from the chaos he'd created.

"What do you want to know?" Q sounded tired. "You just drowned the DB10 in the Tiber, you know?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry about that. I know how much you loved that car. But it's really important." He tried to let his voice sound apologetic. It was true, it had been a spectacular car. But James was glad that he'd made it out of the chase alive anyway.

Q was silent for a few moments. Then he sighed. "I love you more than that stupid car. Now tell me what you want to know."

"Franz Oberhauser." James said. "Check his files. Before and after his death."

"After his… James, what are you talking about?" Q demanded to know.

He sighed. "I promise to explain it as soon as I get home. Please just do it."

"Alright, but it might take a while." Q hesitated and James grew suspicious.

"Q, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong. There might just a few other things going on here at the moment." His boyfriend replied evasively.

"Why don't I like the sound of that?" He asked suspiciously.

"You'll see it as soon as you'll return home."

James sighed, knowing that more questions wouldn't be of any use right now. "I'll be at the airport in thirty minutes."

"A flight is already waiting for you." Q replied smoothly. "And I might have arranged you a cab. It will arrive at your current location shortly." Just in that moment, a car stopped next to James. The word taxi was easy to understand.

"You're brilliant, Q." James muttered and got into the car.

"It's sad that James couldn't make it today, isn't it?" Greg asked and John nodded quietly. It was Friday and they were at their usual bar. This time, however, it was only the two of them. James was still in Mexico City or god knew where to chase the criminal, Marco Sciarra. John knew that it was James' job as a secret agent to deal with those things, but somehow, it also bothered him a little that they weren't able to help.

"Sherlock said he'll be back within a few days." He replied, still looking around. "He talked to Q this afternoon."

"What are you looking for?"

"Who, not what." John corrected him quietly. "I think you already know the answer to your question."

"Do you think she'll show up again?" Greg didn't sound convinced.

"She will." With a smile, John turned to his best friend. "In fact, she just entered the bar." He nodded in the direction where Mary just ordered something to drink. Shen she saw them looking at her, she gave them a little wave.

"It's still hard to believe that she should be involved in all this." Greg muttered, lowering his voice. "She looks so nice."

"Which makes it even more dangerous." John whispered back seriously, even if he kept smiling. Greg did the same.

"Women are always dangerous." The DI said, but then Mary had already arrived at their table and they greeted her happily.

"Where's James?" She asked as soon as she sat down. It was a completely innocent question, but John remained sceptical anyway.

"At home with his partner." He replied simply. "He's not feeling well."

Mary looked concerned at this. "I hope he'll be better again soon." But then her smile returned. "How are you, boys? How was your week?"

John and Greg exchanged a look when she called them boys, but they both didn't comment on that. Instead, John leapt into a story about his latest cases with Sherlock, of all he'd written stories for his blog. It wasn't that spectacular, but it also didn't need to be. Greg also joined him at times, considering that he and his team had helped with at least one of the cases.

Mary was a good listener and asked questions very often. They also asked a few questions in return, but they didn't get to know much about her in the course of the evening. When they finally parted, she promised to be back next week. John and Greg assured her that they'd also be there, if nothing of importance got in between.

"I couldn't find anything about the Pale King or Franz Oberhauser." Q declared with an annoyed expression on his face. Only hours after James' return to London, they'd all assembled at Baker Street to talk about the latest events. James didn't even have much time alone with Q. Time he desperately wanted. He needed to know what was wrong at MI6. And maybe he just wanted to hold Q for a few hours without being disturbed.

"The names also don't show up in our databases." Mycroft added. "Or I might correct that there's nothing about Franz Oberhauser after his death."

"Why are you even so interested in him?" John asked and raised his eyebrows at the secret agent.

James sighed. "The voice that spoke at the meeting in Rome. It sounded like him."

"You knew each other?" This time, it was Greg who asked.

He nodded. "It's a rather long story." A story he didn't like to talk about. Across the room, he caught Q's eyes, but his boyfriend didn't say anything. He only looked curious about James' secret. He'd done all the research about Oberhauser without even knowing why James needed the information. He knew that he'd have to explain everything to him soon. "More important is the Pale King. If they want to have him removed, he must be important."

"Did you find out anything about the symbol on the ring?" Sherlock wanted to know. "It looks like an octopus."

"It does." Q agreed. "But again, no match."

"Nothing." Mycroft shook his head when all heads turned to him.

"So let's summarise the situation." Sherlock said. "You know that Sciarra didn't act on his own, but that he was part of a bigger organisation. A dangerous one. You went to one of their secret meetings and they already knew you were there. A name fell, the Pale King. And we have the ring now. Both things of which we know nothing about."

"That summarises it quiet well." James sighed. "It would need more time to find out anything. Time we don't have. If they want to kill the Pale King, they must know who he is. Probably also where he hides."

"Then we have to act fast." John concluded and looked at all of them expectantly. When no one reacted, he raised his eyebrows. "Oh, come on, you can't be serious that you don't know whom we can ask about it now!"

"I think I can't follow you." Q admitted quietly.

"Neither can I." Greg added.

John crossed his arms. "We want to know more about a secret organisation of criminals. So who could tell us more about it than another criminal?"