Close Shaves
Head still reeling but heart soaring Q left new-M's office - and calling anyone but M M was going to take some getting used to - and stepped back into the empty secretary's room.
Except it wasn't empty.
Not anymore.
Instead, there was a very pretty woman sitting behind the desk, laptop open in front of her and perfectly painted fingernails drumming a mindless tune on top of the wooden surface next to it.
"Oh" he said, surprised, "Hello".
"Hello yourself". She grinned at him, perfect white teeth glistening. "Q, isn't it?"
"Uh… yeah. Yeah, that's… that's me" he replied, somewhat lost, "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met".
"Given how hectic the last few weeks have been, I'm not surprised".
She stood up and brushed down the front of her elegant blue dress, smoothening it. Stepping around the desk, she held out a hand.
"I'm Eve. Eve Moneypenny".
Shaking it, Q finally caught her scent. A hint of perfume, lightly floral. Chanel, if he was not mistaken. But just below that, barely detectable, was the spice of alpha.
"I'm the agent who shot 007 off of a moving train".
Q blinked, startled, and she laughed, a clear tinkle of a sound, just as graceful as the woman herself.
"... Right" he eventually replied, "Well, I mean… some would argue that he deserved it".
"Yes, that does seem to be the general consensus". She smiled. "You're the new Quartermaster, right?"
"Yeah. Yes. I mean- uh, yes, I am. I'm Q. But you… already knew that".
"Word travels fast".
"And it travels even faster in a spy agency, it would seem".
She laughed again, and for a brief moment, he almost wished that he wasn't gay because- wow.
"I, uh, I would've thought that you'd be back on active duty by now" he said instead, and she sighed. "Yeah, so did I. But ironically enough, it was Bond who talked me out of it. Said field work's not for everyone, and… well, I agree, I'm afraid. So for now, at least, I'm acting as M's secretary".
"Oh. Right, well, that's… good?" he finished lamely.
"It is, surprisingly" she agreed, smiling, "Though I imagine far less exciting than being the Head of TSS".
Q's mind immediately flashed back to just the day before when some idiot had gotten a flask of ammonia mixed up with a glass of water which had caused a rather explosive result.
"We do have our moments".
"So I've heard".
He gave her a suspicious look.
"And what else have you heard?"
"Oh, nothing sinister, don't worry. But you'd be surprised what admin staff hear. Most people tend to forget we even exist".
How anyone could simply forget that they were in the same room as this beautiful woman, Q didn't know.
"Anyway" she said, clapping her hands together, "You have a branch to be getting back to, and I have a package to deliver. But let's meet up again soon, shall we? Lunch? Tomorrow?"
"I, uh, you- that- that is, uh-"
"Perfect". She grinned. "I'll email you the details".
After R, Bill, and maybe 007, Eve was fast becoming his newest favourite person. For all of her elegance and grace, she had the dirtiest sense of humour that Q had ever heard, and a wicked personality to match. Going for lunch together became their new thing, although it was rarely every day given the hecticness of both their jobs, but after a week or two, they managed to establish a pattern.
Considering that she was probably the only person who could drag him away from his work long enough to get food into him, she was fast becoming his worker's favourite person too. Eve called them his "minions", and much to Q's chagrin, the name stuck.
Secretly, however, he kind of loved it. Despite being thrust into the position at the worst possible time, he found that he quite enjoyed being Quartermaster, and he knew that when things were finally back to normal and he stopped wearing scent blockers, then he would enjoy being something of a role model to his younger minions and omegian staff as well, proof that they, too, could eventually rise above the dynamicist class and show the world just how incredible they could be.
And speaking of scent blockers, given the craziness of the last month and a half, Q hadn't exactly had time to run out and buy any more. As a result, he was down to his last handful of bottles, and so he decided to simply use them until they ran out and let that be that. Despite things having calmed down exponentially, there was still a level of unease hovering in the air at MI6, so it was probably for the best that he didn't add to that turmoil. For the moment, anyway.
And besides, he still had eight double-0s to find.
Or perhaps "find" was the wrong word to use, since Q had managed to do that in four days flat. Bringing them home was the real challenge, especially since most of the old guard were now dead and buried. Still, Q couldn't afford to leave the double-0s out in the wild for any longer, considering the amount of damage that they could inflict when bored, so he set about trying to get in contact with them.
Based on his more-than-a-little odd first interaction with Bond, he decided that being straightforward and even blunt with the double-0s was his best bet to earning their respect. There was no point in lying to them, after all, because even if he did have something to lie to them about - asides from his dynamic, of course - then they'd be able to tell he was lying almost immediately. It wasn't that Q was a bad lair, although he wasn't exactly good at it either, but sniffing out liars and dealing with them was what the double-0s did best.
So, no. For him to gain their respect, and eventually, maybe even their trust, he needed to be upfront and honest and ever-so-slightly interesting. Because if Q loved a good challenge, then the double-0s were obsessed with them.
It took him exactly one week to painstakingly create nine carefully crafted miniature transmitters. They were rather insignificant things to look at, just a plain black box no bigger than the size of his thumb, but inside of them was where the real magic happened. Each transmitter had a GPS tracking device along with a built-in radio that allowed two-way communication between TSS and the agent in question. It wasn't an ideal solution in the long run, but Q had a plan about that, and already his mind was racing ahead about the possibilities of nanotechnology and how he could use it to track the health status of his agents from anywhere in the world.
But first, he needed to deal with the double-0s.
Since Bond was still in London - or at least pretending to be - Q got one of his workers to drop the first transmitter on the man's desk, ready for him to collect whenever he decided to return to HQ. The other eight transmitters he sent by a trusted courier service, one to each of the remaining eight double-0s, scattered across the globe.
It was a power move, plain and simple. Yes, it would allow him to get in touch with the otherwise unreachable alphas and let them know it was time for them to come home, but it also sent them another message. No matter where you run, you can be found. Slightly threatening, perhaps, but for some of these agents, threats were all that they understood. Either way, it would let them know that their new Quartermaster was a lot more tech-savvy than old Boothroyd had been - may he rest in peace - and also that Q had no qualms whatsoever in ordering them to get their asses back to England, pronto.
R called him insane right to his face when she found out what he'd done, but Eve had called him brilliant, so he wasn't entirely sure what to expect, being perfectly honest. Either the remaining double-0s would return to MI6 with their tail between their legs, or Q would simply just not wake up one morning.
Whatever the outcome, at least it would no longer be his problem.
Out of the nine double-0s, one was currently in England - 007- and four were currently running deep cover missions - 001, 004, 006, 008 - with the remainder - 002, 003, 005, 009 - currently lost in the wind. As a result, Q rightly assumed that it would be one from the latter group to first show their face in HQ.
What he hadn't expected, was just how quickly that moment would come.
Q frowned as his phone buzzed, the distinct sound interrupted Eve mid-sentence. Giving her an apologetic smile, he pulled out his mobile and-
Oh.
Oh no.
"Is there something the matter?" she asked, concerned.
He stared at the all caps-lock message one of his minions had just sent to him, and it was directly to him, as well, not to the group chat, which was already a red flag.
"Q? Is everything alright?"
SOS COME QUICKLY
"... No" he eventually replied, "No, I don't think it is".
Pocketing his phone, he jumped to his feet and grabbed his coat.
"Listen, Eve, I've gotta go, something's happening in TSS. Can we-?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course!" she interrupted, also standing, "You go deal with that, our lunch can take a rain check. Do you need backup?"
"I'll let you know" he rushed, before turning and all-but running from the café they'd only just sat down in.
For one of his workers to be messaging him directly, and sending such a concise undetailed message too, meant that something bad was happening. He had no message from Mallory or Bill, and none of his security alarms had been triggered either, which meant that whatever the problem was, it was internal.
Q's mind was racing as much as his heart by the time he finally made it back to the safety of the tunnels. Not bothering to stop by his own office, he quickly walked directly into the main area of TSS and-
Stopped.
All six of his employees currently on duty were crowded around the desks at one side of the room, with R in the very center of the group, glaring at something just out of sight. Frowning, Q took a few deep breaths to steady his too-quick pulse, before stepping into the room to see what the problem was.
Directly opposite him, at the other side of the room, far far away from his minions, was… a girl. Or, well, woman, really, Q corrected, placing her somewhere between late-twenties and early-thirties. She was currently perched on a desk - his desk, he realised - with one leg pulled up underneath her and the other swinging freely. The stranger cut a striking figure, dark hair and dark eyes and even darker clothing. That amount of black was startling against the white and chrome background of TSS, but even appearances aside, there was just something about her that made him feel… uneasy.
And with a start, he suddenly knew exactly who she was.
Keeping his head high and meeting her gaze evenly, Q walked calmly into the room, passing his minions without a second glance as he made his way towards her.
"You must be 009".
"And you must be the new Quartermaster" she replied, looking him up and down, "Or so I'm told".
It was a blatant challenge and he couldn't help but bristle at the implications. Fighting down the urge of fight or flight, he walked around her to the other side of his desk and calmly took off his coat. Rule Number One: Show no fear.
"You were told correctly" he said, perhaps just a touch sharper than necessary, "And I'm rather fond of my job, Ms King, so it would be in your best interests not to threaten it. Double-0 or not, I can make you vanish quicker than you can fire the guns that I make, however, given that I am, in fact, the one to make them, it would be very easy for me to make sure that they simply don't fire instead".
The TSS branch was silent, everyone waiting with bated breath to see how the panther would react to being admonished. Slowly standing up, she turned to face him fully, and Q half expected her to strike him down where he stood. He knew that he'd deserve it, too, for poking the large cat with a stick, but to his surprise, after a moment she merely smiled and then laughed. It was an elegant, soft, almost enchanting sound, and he could see immediately how she regularly ensnared her prey.
"Well, you might not be much to look at, Quartermaster, but you've certainly got a wicked tongue on you" she replied with a lecherous perfectly-white grin, "I can respect that".
He nodded, once, and then reached up to adjust his glasses, somewhat flustered.
"Good. Right. Well… Good" he finished, clearing his throat, "I trust that you have the transmitter I made for you?"
"Lost it somewhere in Argentina, I'm afraid" she replied, examining her wickedly sharp nails, "Any chance you could make me a new one?"
Q took a deep calming breath and tried not to scream.
"009, just what the actual fuck was you doing in Argentina?!"
Or, at least, tried really hard not to scream.
She blinked, startled at his language, and for a split second he was worried that she'd reconsidered her decision not to maim and/or kill him. Then she relaxed, smiled, and Q got the strangest feeling that he'd passed some invisible test.
"A girls gotta have some secrets, Quartermaster".
Gods above, was it possible for any double–0 to just give him a straight answer?!
"Q" he bit out, rather reluctantly.
"What's that?"
"My name" he replied dryly, "Call me Q. Quartermaster is somewhat of a mouthful, don't you think? And if we're going to be working together…"
She eyed him suspiciously for a moment.
"Are you called Q because it's short for Quartermaster, or were you called Q before you became Quartermaster?"
"Before. I have a real name, of course, but I gave that up when I joined MI6".
Not that he'd been given much choice, but she didn't have to know that.
"Interesting" 009 all but purred, and in the background, he saw R facepalm.
Holding out a graceful hand for him to shake, the alpha grinned at him, this time with less teeth and more… genuineness? Was that even possible?
"Then you may call me Edith, Q. Although my friends call me Edie".
"You have friends?" he blurted, before immediately flinching back.
To his ever-growing surprise, however, she simply laughed.
"Oh, I like you" Edith - Edie?! - smiled, "You could do with some more feeding, perhaps, and that mop that you call hair is really rather distracting, but asides from all that… I think you and I are going to get along brilliantly, Q".
"Heaven forbid" he deadpanned, "Now hand over the transmitter, Edie".
He caught a brief glimpse of something flash across her face as her eyes widened in shock. Feeling quite pleased with himself, he held out a hand and waited. After another minute of studying him, she reached into her brassiere of all places and pulled out the small black radio and GPS tracking device, dropping it into his hand.
"Curiouser and curiouser" Edith murmured, "You know Q, I have quite a strong feeling that there's more to you than meets the eye".
"Well, I sure hope so" he replied, trying not to flush at the heat of the transmitter, "After all, I can't make things too easy for you, now can I?"
"You wouldn't be the first".
"I try to stay away from normality at all costs".
"I can see that". She smiled, becoming more and more relaxed by the second. "The fact that you were able to track me down at all says you're way above average. How did you know that I still had the transmitter, by the way?"
"You may be many things, Ms King, but you're not careless. At least, not outside of the field" he replied dryly, "You can call it intuition, if you like".
"I'd prefer to call it a test".
"Did I pass?"
"With flying colours, sweetheart". Edie winked at him and he was annoyed to feel himself blush. "I hear James is in town".
It took him a moment to equate "James" with "00-bloody-7".
"He is" Q replied evenly, "Any chance you know about the others?"
"Of course".
009 looked back at him evenly but said no more and the Quartermaster mentally groaned.
"Let me rephrase that. Is there any chance that you'll tell me about the others? Or is every single double-0 just incapable of giving a straight answer?"
"Hard to give a straight answer when none of us are straight, Q". She grinned, sharp teeth on show. "So let me put it this way. You passed my little test, and from I hear, you and James have already been put through the wringer… Two down, seven to go".
And with that, she spun on her very tall heels and waltzed away, her graceful loping gait reminding him more of a panther than a person.
"You know, that wasn't very reassuring, Edie" Q called after her, but she merely laughed. "It wasn't meant to be, sweetheart. Good luck… You're gonna need it".