Facts and Figures
Q's body froze even as his mind worked overtime.
There was someone else in the flat, someone who'd come in through the window that Duncan had opened which meant that they'd seen him open it which meant that they'd very likely been following him.
Following him for how long, he couldn't say, although it seemed rather extreme for the bad guys to have been tracking him since Spain, and even if they had, then surely they would have attacked before now, when he'd be alone, rather than wait until they knew he had at least one other person watching his back.
Unless it wasn't the Spanish.
But who else could it be? Duncan hadn't been sent on any other missions since he'd first returned to MI6, and that had been almost two months ago. Q wasn't stupid enough to think that the man had no enemies from previous missions, but for them to be attacking now was… well… odd.
Unless it was one of his own enemies.
The omega felt a shiver of ice-cold fear run down his spine, and his hand instinctively went to his pocket where the taser still rested.
But no.
If this really was an enemy who'd just followed 003 into his flat, then he'd need something a little stronger than an electric shock.
Quickly turning back to the bathroom sink, he yanked out one of the beige wicker boxes stacked below it, moving a neatly folded hand towel aside to reveal the fully loaded Sig Sauer underneath. It had a single-stack magazine that only held eight rounds, but its accuracy and speed more than made up for that singular drawback.
If there was one thing the Germans knew, it was how to make guns.
Double-checking that the magazine was in place, he slid the thumb safety off and crept towards the door.
There was no way of calling out to Duncan without revealing himself to the intruder, and likewise, there was no way he could simply walk over to him either without the enemy seeing him. But Q knew that he had a damn good shot, even if he hadn't actually shot a living breathing human being before, and besides - Duncan was too injured to be fighting off assailants right now anyway.
Even if this was one hundred percent absolutely certainly definitely without a doubt entirely his fault.
Silently stepping towards the bedroom, Q bit back a curse when he realised that the lights were off and that the door itself was only open half a foot. There was no way he'd be able to sneak inside without the intruder seeing him, but there was also no way he could shoot blind and just hope to hit him, either.
But if they were here for 003, then they knew that he was injured. Perhaps they even waited until now specifically because he was injured, and this way he became an easy target. Maybe they thought that this was Duncan's flat and that he was alone right now.
If Q was lucky, then they weren't expecting to find a second person here.
Slowly pulling the slide back on the pistol, he let it go and winced as it clicked into place.
He could only hope that the element of surprise would be enough.
Taking a deep breath, he counted down from three, and then burst into the room.
Less than a split second later, long fingers wrapped around his wrist in a punishing hold, twisting the gun down and spinning it around in one smooth movement.
It was only Q's instinctive reaction to twist with it that stopped the assailant from breaking his fingers.
Ducking down, he fought to regain control of the weapon, allowing the barrel to turn back to face him, but sliding one finger behind the trigger to prevent it from being fired.
Remembering his training, Q swung out with his left leg, catching his attacker in the shin and causing them to stumble. In their surprise, they let go of the gun, but retaliated by swinging down hard on the omega's already straining wrist.
He dropped the pistol with a cry, and frantically dove down to grab it, narrowly missing a punch aimed at his head in the process.
In the dark, Q couldn't see where the weapon had landed, but his attacker, it seemed, had no qualms about continuing this fight without it.
Another kick made the intruder fall back, but their next hit landed solidly on Q's jaw, splitting his lip and sending his head reeling.
Reaching back, he blindly groped for anything to help him steady himself.
The wardrobe met his shoulders, solid and grounding.
A second later, there was a faint whistle and the very air seemed to move around him. Ducking just in time, the enemy's fist hit the inch-thick wood with a crack and they let out a howl.
Grinning, Q lashed out, aiming a well-timed punch at his attacker's solar plexus, knocking the air out of them.
They gasped for breath, doubling over, and the omega used that to his advantage too - right hook to the head, straight punch to the throat, and knee to the groin.
Sue him.
He was small, so he had to fight dirty.
Frantically searching his pockets, he pulled out the taser gun just as the intruder regained his equilibrium and charged at him with a snarl.
Taken by surprise, Q barely had time to even blink before strong hands wrapped around his waist and threw him over the assailant's shoulder.
He hit the ground head first, hard, and tried his best to roll with the movement without losing grip of the taser.
He succeeded, but lost his glasses in the process.
From behind him, there was a vicious growl, and Q quickly rolled to the side to escape the oncoming kick.
Staggering back to his feet, he switched off the safety and prepared to fire.
Large hands gripped him by the shoulders, before spinning him around and slamming him back against the wall.
For the second time in as many minutes, his head hit the hard surface with a thud.
Q squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of dizziness that threatened to send him to the floor, and brought up his arm to shove the end of the taser against the intruder's chest.
They froze.
A split second later, the bedroom light switched on.
There was a moment of silence, a bone-weary sigh, and then-
"I leave you alone for five fucking minutes…"
Duncan stood in the doorway, still shirtless and looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Let him go".
Q didn't know whether he was talking to him or to his attacker, but he kept the taser forcefully pressed against their chest anyway and tried to take deep breaths so that he wouldn't vomit.
"He's a friendly, you absolute brat, so let him go!"
Oh.
So he had been talking to Q.
"Jake, you too".
Jake?
Hang on.
He knew that name.
Cautiously opening one eye and then the other, Q gave himself a few seconds to adjust to the bright light - as well as to make the room stop spinning - before finally seeing just who, exactly, had attacked him.
The man that stared back was tall, dark, and handsome in every sense of the word.
Dark bronze skin, equally dark buzzcut hair, and surprisingly warm honey-brown eyes sized him up. He had long eyelashes and wide lips and almost adorably small ears, but his seemingly harmless appearance was marred by the fact he was easily six foot and just radiated power. Still though, there was something… sensitive about his face, something gentle and kind and all-seeing, a delicate air about him that wasn't visible in the official recruitment photo that they had on file.
Because Q had, in fact, read his file.
"004" he murmured, cursing himself for not putting it together sooner.
Milli had said that Jake was in Spain after all, and clearly, Jake was short for Jacob, and Jacob Williams was one of only two double-0s that were still abroad, but who else would the rest of the pack have trusted to get Duncan out of that entire Spanish disaster if not one of their own who also, just so happened, to be in Spain at the time?
Some genius he was.
004, however, remained silent, his dark golden eyes piercing his for another few seconds, before he slowly, ever so slowly, leaned closer, ducking his head to the omega's neck and taking a steady deep inhale.
Q remained frozen in place, the alpha's own sweet and slightly smokey scent invading his senses, not as faint as Charlie's, but definitely not as overpowering as the others.
Jake straightened up with a frown, stared at him for yet another strangely long time, before turning to Duncan with furrowed brows.
"Yeah". He snorted. "You just mauled our Quartermaster".
"Uh, excuse you! I was not just mauled!" he exclaimed, finally lowering the taser and switching back on the safety, "I was doing perfectly fine before you came barging in!"
"Oh, right, of course, this is all my fault. So, next time, I'll just ignore the fucking yelling, shall I?"
"That wasn't me!"
"That wasn't-" Duncan paused, frowned, and then turned back to Jake who gave an almost sheepish shrug.
"The kid's got a good right hook".
And-
Oh.
Now that was an interesting voice.
Deep and silky smooth with just a touch of otherness in his accent, 004 sounded like a well-travelled debonair gentleman from the '50s, with just a hint of Jeremy Irons thrown in.
Q wondered distantly just how strong the man's compelling voice would be, if his normal accent already made him want to obey his every command.
"He should have. I've been fucking training him for the past three weeks" Duncan snarked back, "Glad to see you remembered, brat".
Okay, you know what? Just for that-
"Actually, it was Milli who taught me how to punch" he shot back, "You just taught me how to fight dirty".
"And it's a good thing I fucking did, too, or Jake over there would have some very interesting explaining to do to fucking Mallory".
Q crossed his arms across his chest defiantly. "I could hold my own well enough even before I got any training. Or have you forgotten?"
Reminding the alpha of Mortner, of his attack, of Duncan's own inability to catch the bastard was a bit of a low blow, but right now, the omega didn't care. He had a pounding headache, an aching wrist, and on top of all that, he could taste blood in his mouth which was just-
Ew.
As expected, 003 grimaced at the reminder, but thankfully decided to let the argument drop. Instead, he stepped into the room and picked up Q's glasses from where they lay on the floor, and handed them over to him, thankfully still intact.
He also picked up the discarded weapon, which the omega could now see had skidded halfway underneath the bed.
Duncan flicked the safety down, checked just how loaded it was, and then gave him an almost exasperated look.
"You have a gun? You? Really?!"
"Yes, really!" he snapped, finally wriggling out from between Jake and the wall, before marching over and yanking it from his grasp, "And it's not the only one I have either so you can just shut the hell up already!"
Resting it carefully on the bedside table for now, he adjusted his clothes, tried - and failed - to tame his hair, and then walked back to the so-called intruder and held out a hand.
"Q. Quartermaster of MI6".
The man took it slowly, seeming bemused.
"Jake Williams. 004 of MI6".
They shook, once.
"Good. Right. Well then. Now that the introductions are over, I'm going to find a bag of ice. Excuse me".
And with that, Q spun on his heel and stumbled from the room with as much dignity as he could manage.
Duncan found him in the kitchen, not ten minutes later, with a bag of frozen garden peas pressed against the back of his head and a very out-of-date packet of paracetamol on the table in front of him.
Yana was curled up on his feet, purring, but Paco was still hiding somewhere else in the flat, well out of sight.
Duncan sighed when he saw him, before walking over and carefully pulling the bag from his grasp.
"Lean your head forward".
Gentle hands poked and prodded at the back of his skull, tugging his hair out of the way to check for any head wounds before returning the frozen peas to their rightful place. Duncan pulled up a chair next to him, but even that sound of wood scraping across the tiles caused the omega to groan.
"You still feeling dizzy?"
"A bit".
"Nauseous?"
He nodded.
Duncan scowled before reaching out and lifting his chin so he could peer into his eyes.
After a moment or two, he sighed.
"Grade one concussion, I'd say. The dizziness should pass in a few minutes, but it's gonna take at least twenty-four hours for the fucking headache to go away".
"Just tell me I'm still allowed to sleep".
"You're still allowed to sleep, brat".
"Oh thank god" he groaned, moving to pull his head back to he could lay it on the nice cool kitchen table in front of him, but before he could, Duncan tightened his grip on his jaw, tilting his face to the side to get a better look at the bruises that Q knew were already starting to form.
"You wash out your lip?"
"... Do I have to?"
He let out another sigh before standing up, walking over to the sink to dampen a tea towel before returning and holding it out to him.
Q took it with a wince, something which the alpha immediately caught on to, and before he could so much as blink, his right wrist was being twisted this way and that as Duncan assessed the damage.
"How much does it hurt when I do this?" he asked, carefully bending his hand back.
"It's definitely sore, but not as bad as my headache".
"Definitely not broken then, and probably not sprained. I think you might have torn a fucking ligament or two, but nothing too bad… You got any more peas?"
He snorted. "No. I was lucky to even find this bag".
"Ice pack?"
Q shook his head and Duncan frowned. "Well, I would suggest we wrap it, but…"
He glanced down at his own arm, and at the entire roll of elastic bandages that covered it from elbow to shoulder to chest and back again.
"I need to get a bigger first aid kit".
"You need to fucking stop getting hurt".
"Called the pot kettle!" he shot back, "As soon as you lot start coming back in one piece, then I will too!"
"We're field agents, brat. Danger comes with the job description!"
"And you think inventing, testing, and maintaining your equipment is risk-free?!"
"That's what you've got the fucking minions for!"
"That's what I've got the-"
Q cut himself off as the pounding in his head got worse, and took a deep breath to try and calm himself down.
"... Why didn't you tell me that 004 was here too?"
"I mistakenly thought he'd use the fucking door".
"That's not what I meant and you know it".
Duncan stared back at him for a moment before blinking and looking away.
"... I was in a bad way, when I got out. It's been a while since I was sent on a mission, and even longer since I've gotten shot. It never gets any fucking easier… I knew Jake was in Gibraltar, so I called him up. He drove three hours to Seville, I got in, and we kept on driving".
"And you didn't tell anyone?"
"Jake is… different".
"We work for MI6, Duncan, we're all different".
The alpha let out a frustrated breath and turned back to face him.
"We're all double-0s for a reason, Q. No matter how different our backgrounds are, or how differently we grew up, or what part of the fucking military we were recruited from… we all have something in common. Something… innate. Instinct. Something that makes us double-0s". He paused, his grey eyes stormy. "Jake is… soft. Too soft, for this world. He has that instinct, has that fucking… gene that makes us so good at what we do, but he's also… kind. Fucking ridiculously so".
"You wanted to protect him" the omega said quietly.
"It seems stupid, I know. He's a double-0 for a reason, after all, and he wouldn't have made it this fucking far if he wasn't damn good at what he did, either… But I still couldn't risk fucking Mallory sending us back to Seville, or even worse, sending Jake back and ordering me to report in here. There's a reason he's the liaison agent for them at '5. Half the time, he doesn't even need a fucking gun".
Q frowned at the mention of the Security Service, something pinging in the back of his mind.
"Hang on, isn't he on loan now? What the hell was he doing abandoning his mission to pick you up?!"
"Relax, brat, he tidied things up before he came. Honestly, the only fucking reason that particular mission took so long is because he loves the sun. MI5 aren't going to be pissed, don't worry".
"I'm not worried about them, I'm worried about you!" he snapped, "Just what the hell do you think M's going to do when he finds out that not only did you fuck up your mission, but Jake decided to go AWOL too?!"
"Mallory can fucking suck it! Bloody paper pusher" he grumbled, growling under his breath, "And besides, we're both going to report in tomorrow anyway, so it's not like it even fucking matters!"
Q stared at him.
"You and I have two very different opinions on what fucking matters".
"Oh yeah? Well, you better get used to it, brat, cause not a single one of us gives a damn about following procedure".
"What about Milli?" he immediately countered, and Duncan paused. "... Alright, fine, Milli cares about following fucking procedures, but that's it! Nobody else! No one!"
Q got the strangest urge to laugh, but then he remembered just how much his head hurt and decided he didn't want to risk it.
Instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and then handed it to the scowling alpha as he stood.
"I'm trusting you to order us something good. A curry, preferably, but if you ask for anything with tofu, then so help me god, bullet would or not, I will throw you out of this flat faster than you can say 'bean curd'. Good? Good".
Leaving the frozen bag of peas on the kitchen table and ignoring Yana as she yowled at him for disturbing her sleep, he headed back towards the bedroom where he could only assume Jake awkwardly remained.
It was clear that Duncan cared for the man, perhaps even more than he cared for Milli, so it only made sense that Q got to know him a bit better, especially since they'd be working together for the foreseeable future and all that.
And besides.
He'd managed to collar seven of the nine idiots already, so how hard could this be?