In Transit
"Да, I understand, Генерал-майор, but-"
Q winced as a lew of barely-civil Russian cut him off, pulling the phone away from his ear as the man increased his volume - as if that would be enough to deter his questions.
"I know that Colonel Janssen is no longer in your employ, however-"
He was interrupted once more, and the omega forced down a sigh. For the past two hours, he'd been on the phone with the Russian Air Force, being shoved around from soldier to soldier until he was finally sent up the line to one Major General Kuznetsov. Now that they had the personnel file of Ourumov's right-hand woman, Q had been trying to track down her previous supervisors to get an idea of just what, exactly, she was capable of, but unsurprisingly, no one in the Russian government wanted to hand out free information to MI6.
"Yes, you told me that she deserted her post in Moscow and that she hasn't served the required ten years in prison for committing such an offence and-"
Sweet Star Trek would this man ever let him finish a sentence?!
"Да, I know that she was a fighter pilot in the First Aerospace Defence Forces Army, stationed in Borisovsky Khotilovo air base, but I want to know if-"
Oh, sure, go ahead and interrupt once again, it wasn't as if Q was hourly.
"Your colleague did, in fact, inform me that she left during the invasion of Crimea and- Да, прости, I meant the reunification of Crimea-" which sure was one way of putting it "-because she disagreed with turning things political instead of continuing to use force, but you're not-"
And there he went again…
"I understand sir. Neither you nor Russia have had any dealings with her since and-"
This time, Q did sigh and even glanced at his watch while he was at it, as if the Major General could somehow sense his busy schedule and ever-dwindling impatience across two-thousand miles.
"Wait! Останавливаться! Go back. What did you just say?"
There was a thick silence on the other end of the line as if the man had suddenly realised that he'd said too much. The omega resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the idiot.
"May I inform you that I have an eidetic memory, Генерал майор, and as such, it won't take me very long to recall what you just said. However, in the interest of time, and British-Russian relations, it would be far easier and better for you to simply repeat it once more. Хорошо?"
There was a quiet knock on his door, and he glanced up just in time to see Alec slip inside with a far-too-mischievous grin. Q angrily shoved down the bubble of joy in his heart that rose as a result and focused on typing what the Major General was telling him instead.
"The Janus Crime Syndicate?" he confirmed, giving 006 a questioning look as he did so, but the blond frowned and shook his head.
The pack hadn't come across these guys either, then.
"Да... Да… Arms dealers? Operating out of- Санкт-Петербург, you say? Вы уверен? And they work for-"
Alec made his way over to him with a curious look on his face, but Q only paid him half attention as he quickly took note of all the criminal organisations this so-called "Janus" syndicate had dealt with.
"Да... Да, я понимаю. And you can't tell me anything- нет. Yes, I understand. Спасибо, генерал-майор. Спасибо за-"
The bastard hung up on him.
Q pulled the phone away from his ear and scowled at it.
"Yeah. Спасибо for nothing!"
From behind him, he heard a low chuckle that sent tingles up and down his spine, and he only put up a token protest as Alec took his phone from his grasp, leaving it on the table as he gently tugged the omega to his feet and guided him towards the couch.
Approximately thirty seconds later, Q found himself lying on top of a warm chest, squished between two iron-strong arms, his face pressed against the alpha's neck and the stress of the day slowly falling away as he breathed in the scent of home.
"You work too much, cub".
He felt the grumbling words vibrate against his cheek as one hand let go of his waist to tangle itself in his hair instead.
"On the contrary, 006, you just work too little" he mumbled, his entire body going lax as the traitor started to tug on his curls exactly the way he liked it.
"Uh, excuse you, I just came back from a four-month undercover mission!"
"And how much of that time did you spend in bars?"
"... That's irrelevant. I was still undercover".
He snorted and then turned his face to breathe in even more of the man's warm scent, pressing his mouth against his pulse point, Alec's grip tightening around his waist as he did so.
Something in the air... changed.
"You know, I have to say, cub, there's something particularly... tempting about you when you speak Russian".
His heart rate immediately skyrocketed.
"Oh yeah?" Q replied, proud of himself when his voice came out level.
"Yeah. I mean, you have a positively sinful voice on a good day, but when you speak русский, you sound rather... дразнящий".
Tantalising.
He swallowed thickly and felt the alpha's pulse jump beneath his lips.
"You don't sound too bad yourself. Very, uh... чувственный".
The grip on his hair tightened briefly.
"Чувственный, huh? And here I thought that French was the most romantic language in the world".
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as they say.
"Je peux parler ça aussi, si tu préfères".
Alec's grasp became almost painful as the man let out a curse under his breath and Q was rapidly realising that he might just have gotten in over his head.
"You sound as good as James when you say that. Have you heard him speak French yet?"
"No, not yet. His rather brief mission in Nice didn't allow for a lot of downtime".
"... He's returning from Milan today".
"So he is".
"... You should speak French to him".
"And why's that?"
"... I think he'd like it".
Alec's pulse was racing against his mouth, and Q briefly considered what the man would do if he just… licked his neck right now. Although biting was purely a form of affection between mates, partaking in other activities wasn't as frowned upon between unbonded couples, although they did suggest a willing eagerness to have a rather... exciting evening.
Except-
Were Alec and James bonded? They had no bites - nothing visible, at least - but if they did have the bond mark then it would have been in their files because being obviously mated alphas would severely limit their mission options and quite frankly, M would throw a fit.
But they were still together, at least in some capacity or another, but based on the way that Alec spoke of James, it was closer to a romantic relationship than a friends-with-benefits type of deal and-
Alexis's words rushed back to him from only two days before: I hate to go all millennial on you, hun, but polyamorous relationships are a thing.
-and Q didn't want to start something with this particular alpha when he and James were still at odds.
Alec's arm around his waist was still holding him in place, his warm hands tangled in his hair and tiptoeing the line between comforting and arousing, his pulse trembling between Q's own lips as he tried desperately not to give in there and then and risk ruining their relationship forever.
Clearing his throat, he reluctantly - so so reluctantly - pulled his face away from Alec's neck and tried to stand up.
Tried.
"Where do you think you're going, cub?"
He could feel the rumbling words deep in the alpha's chest and every single omegian part in him screamed at him to lie back down.
"The call with the Russians went on far longer than expected, 006, and I am in desperate need of some caffeine".
"So make a cup of tea here. You have a kettle".
"I do". He mentally swore. "... Unfortunately, however, I do not have any milk".
"Drink it without".
He raised his head and gave the man a horrified look.
"You cannot simply drink black tea without milk, you absolute heathen!"
Alec rolled his eyes at him but grinned all the same, loosening his hold just enough for Q to wriggle his way free, which he did so, very quickly and very very awkwardly.
"There's some in the canteen" he said, avoiding the alpha's gaze, "I'll just pop down and make a cup and then return here".
"You could always just text Charlie, you know. He'd be delighted to provide for his kitten".
Q scowled at him fiercely but was secretly glad that the man hadn't repeated the embarrassing nickname in Russian, or they'd be back where they started all over again.
"I could do with the walk" he replied flatly, "If I'm not back in ten minutes, then you can text Charlie".
Alec shrugged, staying on the couch and throwing both arms above his head as he gave a full-body stretch. Q's mouth watered at the sight, eyes latching onto brief glimpses of tanned skin as his shirt rode above his hips, and he quickly coughed and made his way over to the door before he could do something embarrassing.
He responded vaguely to R's questions as he walked through his branch, nodded and hummed at Silvia as she suggested a new method of hiding a tracking device in clothes, and rather sharply told Daniel that he'd speak to him later as he exited through the branch's main door.
The idiot had only been back from suspension for one day and he was already making Q's head hurt.
Deciding to use the stairs rather than the lift, he focused on counting each step instead of the panic that was threatening to overcome him. Twice now, he'd been attacked in a stairwell at MI6, and if it weren't for the fact he hated being trapped in confined spaces with unknown alphas, he'd have stuck to the elevator.
But right now, he had his own alphas to think about, and even recalling the feeling of Alec's pulse and fingers and chest had him blushing worse than a nun in a strip club. The only benefit of the entire situation was the fact that Alexis had been right.
Alec did want him, in some way or another, although the man was far too smart to risk a one-night stand with him in fear of retaliation from the rest of the pack.
So.
Alec liked him liked him, and wanted something vaguely serious - or at least as serious as any double-0 could offer - and things had gotten a little heated and now Q had to decide what he was going to do about James because-
Because.
Shoving open the doors at the top of the stairwell, he very narrowly avoided colliding with an alpha in scrubs, who glared at him for all of two-point-one seconds before he realised that Q was an omega.
"Well hello there beauti-"
"Not interested" he snapped, shoving past because really, the last thing he needed right now were even more troublesome knotheads.
He liked James, he really liked him, but he just wasn't sure if he could trust him after what he'd done. Q knew, objectively, that he could, but he also knew that if there was anyone in the entire world capable of manipulating his trust, then it was James bloody Bond. He didn't think the man would hurt him again, not intentionally at least, but once bitten and all that...
Stepping in to let two betas pass, he didn't even flinch at the insulting whispers aimed his way. The entire building was still divided between hero-worship or devil-reincarnate despite the fact it'd been three entire weeks since Bond had tried to compel him - almost a whole month.
And Bond... had been trying, Q had to give him that much.
He was returning all of his equipment in one piece, he remained civil and professional on comms, and even more so in person. The omega's bloody knuckles and sprained wrist were healing nicely, his broken finger was almost as good as new again, and the bruises he'd left on James bloody Bond that had caused all of that were mostly faded too.
They weren't the only ones healing either.
The yellow-brown bruises on Jake's cheek had disappeared entirely, along with the bandages taping his fingers together. Duncan's shoulder had healed completely and he was already making remarkable progress during the physiotherapy necessary for him to return to active duty again. Even Alec was ninety per cent better, his limp and bruises gone and the brace on his wrist due to be removed in a few days' time.
Soon, it would almost be as if nothing at all had ever happened.
That thought brought Q up short, and he paused just outside the canteen.
Did he want to forget what had happened? He was a forgiving person by nature - although that was less to do with any kindness shown on his behalf, and more to do with him refusing to hold onto anything negative any longer than necessary. So he knew that he would forgive Bond, eventually.
But there was a big difference between forgiving and forgetting.
Slowly starting to walk again, he stepped into the canteen and made his way over to the fridge, lost in thought - which was exactly why he didn't see a familiar face stick out his foot to trip him.
Q hit the ground hard, hands automatically going out to catch himself but collapsing as his right wrist gave a sharp stab of pain.
From behind him, there was a laugh, and he quickly clambered back to his feet, spinning around to face the bastard with a growl.
A beta - of all things - looked back at him, the man's face smug and satisfied and unfortunately, very very familiar.
"Are you an actual child?!" He snarled as Gregson continued to smirk.
"What's the matter, sweetie, no big strong alpha here to save you?"
Q stared at him in disbelief.
"... I don't need a big strong alpha to do anything for me". He took a threatening step forwards, ignoring the pain shooting through his wrist. "But tell me, sweetie, how's your credit score been lately?"
The smirk froze on his face, but Q wasn't done.
"Or your bank account? You have some nice savings, don't you? Accounts department, what am I saying, of course, you do. And traffic lights are so very fickle these days, especially when you're in a rush. Not to mind all those social media accounts you must have. It would be such a shame if someone were to... I don't know, lock you out of them? Delete them? Change your passwords, hack your email, send a dick pic to your mother and just generally make your life a living hell, both online and off, and let me tell you something, sweetie, I do not need an alpha to do any of that... Do I make myself clear?"
Gregson swallowed thickly and quickly nodded, even taking a step back - although whether that was out of shock, fear, or survival instinct, Q wasn't sure.
"Good. Now scram!"
He ran.
"Nicely done".
Q jumped and spun around to find-
-to find James bloody Bond leaning against a kitchen counter, feet crossed at the ankle, arms folded across his chest, and a small, almost playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"You're not meant to be back for another four hours yet".
"The mission ended sooner than expected. I took the liberty of catching an earlier flight... I was just on my way to your office when you walked in here".
It was only then that Q noticed the steaming cup on the countertop next to him. James followed his gaze and his smirk turned into a grimace.
"It's not as good as Charlie's, obviously, but... well, it isn't poison. Splash of milk and two sugars, right?"
Q stared.
"How did you…"
"I was about to speak up when that beta decided to trip you" James continued, "Then I was definitely going to speak up, but before I could, you rather adeptly put him in his place".
"Yeah, well, I've dealt with far worse elitist pricks than him".
An oddly blank look came over Bond's face.
"I know".
Q could have kicked himself.
"Oh for- I didn't mean-"
"I know" he repeated, straightening up, "That was quite a nasty fall, though. You alright?"
He automatically nodded, hand coming up to straighten his glasses only for his wrist to give a particularly bad twinge and he hissed.
James was at his side in an instant, the cup of tea forgotten on the counter behind him as he carefully rolled up the omega's sleeve and growled at the sight of already darkening bruises.
"Medical. Now".
"What? No! Bond, it's just a sprain-"
He picked him up.
James bloody Bond picked him up and before Q could so much as blink, he'd been thrown over the man's shoulder, his head and arms now upside down as the alpha wrapped both hands around his legs and marched out of the canteen.
"I apologise for touching you without your consent, Quartermaster, and I'll happily surrender myself to whatever punishment you see fit, after you've been examined by a doctor".
"What? Bond, what are you- you can't- this is- put me down!"
"No".
"Put me down this instant!"
"Not until you've been seen by a doctor. Your wrist is clearly sprained so who knows what other injuries you have".
Q's hips had to be digging painfully into the man's shoulder, and although he was light, he was not that light, yet still, James continued to carry him through the halls of MI6 without a care in the world.
"Put me down".
"No".
"007".
"Quartermaster".
"Bond".
"Q".
"James!"
There was a pause, a half-stumbled step, and then the grip on his legs tightened.
"Pup. Behave".
His voice was low and gravelly and Q thanked his lucky stars that the bloody bastard couldn't see the blush on his face right now.
"You don't get to tell me what to do!"
"I don't" he agreed easily, "However I will tell you what to do when it concerns your health. You clearly need a doctor but you're refusing to go to one, I can't bring you to Fortier in this state or he'll kill me first and ask questions never, and quite frankly I am absolutely shit at first aid, so the only remaining solution is to carry you to medical myself".
Q let out a heavy sigh and reluctantly went limp, allowing his face to press against the back of the man's suit jacket and- really, how unfair was it that it even smelled nice and stayed wrinkle-free even while he was carrying a fully grown adult?!
"If it helps, I'm not doing this because I'm an alpha and you're an omega. I'm doing this because you're injured and... and you're my friend".
Now just what in the hell was he meant to say to that?!
"Also, it could be worse".
"How?!" Q burst out, "A double-0 is carrying me through the halls of MI6 over his shoulder like a sack of fucking potatoes for everyone and everything and everywhere to see! How, on earth, could this possibly be any worse?!"
"I mean... I could be carrying you bridal style".