White Lies (James Bond, Q): Completed 8/3

[matilda3948]

@AdrianMarx made me realize that I love this fandom and pairing. Had fun writing new characters and trying to get their voices right. Definitely one more section still to come.

 

Even Bond was smart enough to stand at the back of the room and not interrupt while Q was actively assisting another agent mid-operation. The young man was standing in front of a bank of screens reading code at a rate that boggled Bond’s mind and occasionally giving instructions to the agent on the other end. A quick glance around Q’s workstation told Bond that his Quartermaster was ill—tissues, bottles of medicine, cough drops littered his desk, but you’d never know it by the way he was running the operation. Of course, adrenalin did that to a person—pushed something irrelevant like illness to the edge of a person’s consciousness when something more important was on the line.

“You’re close,” Q said. “He can’t be more than thirty meters from you.” Bond watched the other members of the team standing a respectable distance away but intensely focused and ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. Suddenly, the agent’s vital signs on the monitor became erratic at the same time Q said, “009 are you alright?” A pause “Agent Baker, can you hear me?” Q covered his mouthpiece and glanced at his team. “Tell the evac team to get moving.” He looked at the screen; 009’s heart rate was irregular. “Baker? Report,” Q said.

“Suspect down…asset in left coat pocket…can’t reach it…” the agent gasped.

“Are you wounded?” Q asked, knowing full well that he was.

“Gunshot right abdomen and chest…no exit wounds.”

Bond swore under his breath. Q’s shoulders slumped.

“How long for the evac team to get there?” Q asked.

“Seven minutes,” a women replied.

“Tell them they’ve got three.”

“Listen, 009, we’ve got people coming to you now. Do the best you can to contain the bleeding and we’ll get you out and back to London,” Q said. He no longer watched the screen but paced slowly back and forth as he continued to talk. “It’s nice here today—sunny and warm enough you don’t need your jacket by midday.”

Bond quirked an eyebrow at the boldfaced lie. Rain had been coming down nearly sideways all day.

“Took my lunch out to that little park a few blocks from MI6 today,” Q continued. “Laid down in the grass and listened to the birds, every part of me feeling warmed up by the sun.” An alarm bell went off as 009’s heart rate began to slow. A few clicks of the keyboard and the sound was silenced but the lights kept flashing. “Nice breeze too,” Q continued, his voice low. “You can feel it in your hair, feel it rustling the grass around you, even smell the early wildflowers that’ve come up. You just feel so warm and peaceful in the middle of it…”

The monitor told them what they all knew. They’d lost an agent. The room was silent until the evacuation team entered the room where 009 lay. After confirming that they’d retrieved the USB drive off the suspect and that Baker was beyond aid, Q took off his headset and reached underneath his glasses to rub his eyes.

“Call M,” he said.

“Already did. He’s on his way,” another man said. Q stood with his back to his team for a moment before picking up his coffee mug and chucking it against the wall in a shatter of glass and cold tea, then stormed out of the room. It was an outburst Bond didn’t think the younger man had in him. He made a move to follow when R called out,

“007, give him a moment.”

It was advice Bond had absolutely no intention of following. He might have been momentarily confused about which of the many hallways to check first had it not been for the wheezing cough he heard to his right. He turned the corner and found Q leaning against a wall, hands resting on his knees, coughing openly towards the floor. Bond kept his hands in his pocket trying to look nonthreatening as he approached. Q held up a hand when he saw him.

“Don’t,” he said. James paused but when he saw the other man sway a little he overruled Q’s vague request and stood in front of him, gripping his shoulders.

“Sit down or you’re going to fall,” Bond said sternly. Q looked like he wanted to argue but slid down the wall and brought his knees up. Bond sat down beside him and tried to assess the younger man in the dim lights of the underground hallway. Q was shaking and his eyes were far away. Not sure if it was fever, shock, or some combination of the two, Bond reached over and touched the back of Q’s neck and the side of his face. “Burning up,” he mumbled slipping out of his coat and putting it around Q’s shoulders. If anything, Q shivered even harder. He sniffled and Bond thought he might have started to cry when Q ducked his head into his hands.

hh’NGTK! Ngtkshh! HehKTshhh! ehhNKtshh!

He sniffled thickly and Bond reached over and got the handkerchief out of the inside pocket of his coat and held it out to Q. The silence was making Bond uneasy—well, the silence and the stillness. He wanted to do something. Sitting in a cold, dark hallway wasn’t doing anyone any good.

hehhNGshhh! hh’Mfshhhh! Nkt’shhhew!

And it certainly wasn’t doing Q’s poor health any favors. He needed to get things moving.

“There was nothing you could have done differently, you k now,” he said. “Baker was a skilled agent. There’s nothing you could have done from MI6 that would have made a difference.”

“I know,” Q whispered. Footsteps were echoing down the corridor.

“I imagine losing your first agent is…difficult,” Bond said. Q turned his head, looking incredulous (and very ill, Bond thought).

“You think this is the first agent I’ve lost in the field?”

“You seem particularly upset. I just assumed—”

“Oh, screw you, Bond.” Q coughed roughly into the bend of his arm before looking back up. “This was the twelfth on my watch. Twelve.”

“This is the job, Q.”

“Sometimes I hate the job,” Q whispered.

Mallory stopped at the head of the hallway and took in the scene in front of him. As soon as he saw his boss, Bond stood up and offered a hand to Q (which he ignored even though getting to his feet under his own power was embarrassingly difficult).

“Are you alright?” M asked the Quartermaster.

“Fine, sir.”

M glanced at Bond and saw the minuscule shake of his head.

“I’ve reviewed the tape. You did everything right,” M said. Why that fact seemed to comfort Mallory and Bond remained a mystery to Q. He knew he’d done everything right; the result was still the same. The two men followed M towards a small room off the main hallway. The lighting was better and M sighed when he got a good look at Q. “You look ill,” he said plainly.

“Just a cold, sir.”

The huff of disagreement from the double 0 behind him did not go unnoticed.

“You have something to add, 007?” M asked.

“No, he doesn’t,” Q said. It might have had more of an impact if he hadn’t immediately started coughing. Despite being in front of his boss and one of his double 0’s, Q couldn’t keep from rubbing his throat, doing anything he could to alleviate the sharp pain. He suspected M and Bond were having a nonverbal communication while he was busy coughing up a lung, but he didn’t care. He felt a hand grip his upper arm and he finally opened his eyes to see Bond standing in front of him. If Q didn’t know better he’d say the man looked concerned.

“Here. Snagged one of these off your desk,” Bond said, handing Q a cough drop. “You seem to be consuming them at an alarming rate.” Only 007 could manage to show kindness and rat him out to his boss in a single gesture.

“How long have you been ill?” M asked.

“Two days,” he said.

“Wrong,” Bond said immediately. “Try the truth.”

“Thank you, 007 but this part is actually my job,” M said. In fact, dealing with staff who refused to put their own needs first (physical or psychological) was one of the most frequent and taxing parts of M’s job. “Q, be honest with me, please.”

“Not quite two weeks,” he mumbled.

“Bit long for ‘just a cold’ don’t you think?” M asked while pulling out his mobile. “I think it is,” he added without waiting for Q’s reply. “I also see you have a rather stunning supply of medical and personal time stored up. It seems like an opportune time to take advantage of that, I think.”

HehKTshhh! ehhNKtshh! hehhNGshhh!

“Bless you,” M said. “Goodness, you are in a state.”

Q’s head was spinning and he was infinitely grateful he had the handkerchief because his nose was streaming. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off he could feel the stiff ache unique to fevers settling into his muscles. As humiliating as this whole situation was, the thought of taking a few days and hiding under a mound of blankets had undeniable appeal. He wasn’t looking forward to facing his team after today’s events and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept through the night. Yes, maybe M was right…a couple days off sounded like a good idea. Q realized his mind must have wandered because M had called his name in a way that clearly indicated it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get his attention. And the frown on M’s face further confirmed his theory. He cleared his throat.

“Sorry. What?”

“I said you’re going to go down to medical and then you’re going home for as long as they recommend.”

“And I’m making sure you follow instructions,” Bond said, a little too cheerfully for Q’s liking.

“Umm…” Q felt like this was the part where he should say something but his thoughts were creeping along at a snail’s pace.

“Right. Medical. Come along, Q” Bond said. The younger man just stood there blinking. Was he just assigned an assassin as his babysitter?

“Well, I’m off. Feel better, Q,” M said, patting him on the shoulder and giving Bond a nod.

The next hour was a bit of a blur for Q. He recalled going to the MI6 medical center and being poked and prodded by one of their doctors. He remembered hearing the words “strep” and “fever” and “stubborn” and “infection” tossed around fairly liberally. He remembered Bond standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed, refusing to give him any privacy, and a frown permanently affixed to his face. And he remembered suffering through a sneezing fit that earned him worried looks from 007 and the doctor both. He was cold and achy and struggling to keep his eyes open making him a passive patient.

“Ready to go?”

Q blinked slowly and realized he and 007 were the only two people left in the exam room. Bond was holding a paper bag—his medication presumably.

“Go?”

“Home, Q. I’m taking you home.” Bond sounded exasperated. Annoyed was good—that was normal. Q slid off the exam table and his knees buckled. He’d have hit the floor if not for Bond’s quick reflexes. “Take your time,” he grunted, absorbing most of the younger man’s weight. The room was spinning and Q took a shaky breath, then another, as he got his bearings. It seemed to take forever to walk outside and to Bond’s car and Q was shivering by the time he sunk into the passenger’s seat. He leaned his head against the door and sniffled. When the ignition started he forced himself to open his eyes.

“What did the doctor say?” Q asked.

“You don’t remember?”

“Wasn’t really listening.”

“He said you’re an idiot.”

“My Mensa membership card says differently.”

“Smartass.” The way Bond said it almost made it sound like a compliment. He put the car in drive and sped out of the lot in a way that made Q think he was being punished. “He said you’d have had bronchitis if you’d gone two more days. What started as a cold turned into a sinus infection, which turned into strep throat, which was on its way to bronchitis. You’re benched for at least a week.”

“A we—eh Ahh…a week?” Q tried to remember where he’d put the handkerchief. He was still wearing Bond’s suit coat and managed to check two before having to abandon that strategy and hastily raise an arm to shield his face.

heh ahh’Mfshhhh! hehhNGshhh! Ahh…hah AhNkt’shhhew!

“You’re paying to have that jacket cleaned,” Bond said.

“Mbost people just say ‘bless you’” Q managed in between thick sniffles.

ahhGNSHHHeew! NGSCHHHeew!

“Bless you, Q.”

Edited August 3, 2017 by matilda3948

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

I just watched Skyfall for the first time not too long ago and never read any Bond stuff but your works are also so good so I tried it and you definitely nailed the characters! Poor Q, it's so easy to picture this and him wearing Bonds coat is

I also love the Mensa card quip

Edited July 31, 2017 by Kaze wo Hiku

[Elyze]

Love it! They should definitely include this in the next Bond movie! ?

[AdrianMarx]

Ahhh!!!! Matilda this is so wonderful!! I'm so glad there's more Q fic. He needs more whump.

16 hours ago, matilda3948 said:

A quick glance around Q’s workstation told Bond that his Quartermaster was ill—tissues, bottles of medicine, cough drops littered his desk, but you’d never know it by the way he was running the operation.

I like that Q's illness is obvious in the little things but also that he's professional despite it.

16 hours ago, matilda3948 said:

“How long for the evac team to get there?” Q asked.

“Seven minutes,” a women replied.

“Tell them they’ve got three.”

I also really like this bit where Q demands what seems impossible all to save his agent. He cares a lot lsdkjfg.

Also when Q is lying about the weather? My heart hurts. He knows his agent is gonna die and he's just trying to give him something nice to think about in his last moments oh gosh that's so sad.

16 hours ago, matilda3948 said:

Q stood with his back to his team for a moment before picking up his coffee mug and chucking it against the wall in a shatter of glass and cold tea, then stormed out of the room.

Oh Q love. You did the best you could. He's so calm when he tells them to call M though - always professional.

The way Bond takes care of Q is really sweet because he has to balance the physical and psychological needs both at once. Gosh my poor love.

16 hours ago, matilda3948 said:

“Oh, screw you, Bond.” Q coughed roughly into the bend of his arm before looking back up. “This was the twelfth on my watch. Twelve.”

Knowing that he keeps count makes me so sad. 

I like Bond's silent communication with Mallory. The little shake of his head because he knows Q is feeling worse than he's letting on and the way he rats him out is hilarious omfg. Only Bond.

16 hours ago, matilda3948 said:

“Thank you, 007 but this part is actually my job,” M said.

Sass master Mallory has arrived.

Also it's basically canon that Q never goes home or uses up his leave. England might fall. And he's be bored.

16 hours ago, matilda3948 said:

“Bless you,” M said. “Goodness, you are in a state.”

This got me right in the heart for some reason? I'm weak for phrases like that and coming from Mallory it's just really really nice.

Gosh he can barely stand by himself. Adrenaline must have done a lot for him.

The banter at the end is lovely and very Q. Of course he'd be a member of Mensa what a nerd.

Q, sweetheart, it's obvious to everyone but you that a week off is the very least you need. He's so terrible at looking after himself gosh.

And Bond is so sweeeeet and caring and Bond and I love him. 

Ahhh gosh matilda I??? Love this??? so much it's so great and I'm super duper excited for the next part. You're a wonderful writer and when you said you might take a crack at 00Q I was honestly just squealing and you did not disappoint (not that you ever do!!). 

[matilda3948]

THANK YOU @AdrianMarx @helyzelle and @Kaze wo Hiku for your kind comments! I'm glad the story felt reasonably in-character. Here's the second and final piece.

**

Q could have wept with relief when he stepped inside his flat. He made a beeline for his bedroom and left Bond to do...whatever it is he wanted to do. Q didn't really care at this point. Tea and sleep. That was all he cared about at the moment. He changed into plaid pajama pants, an Oxford hooded sweatshirt, and pulled on a thick pair of socks. He flipped on the bathroom light and winced at his own reflection. It's no wonder M sent him home. He looked like a ghost. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and tore off a length of bathroom tissue and blew his nose. Now in the privacy of his own house he didn't feel compelled to be quiet or restrained, so when he felt the need to cough he did and when he felt the urge to sneeze overwhelming him he didn't try to stifle them (an action which was, frankly, murder on his sinuses). 

ahhGNTSSHHHew! HAHgntsshhhheew!

Wow. He felt like a dam had burst in his sinuses and Q got a box of tissues from underneath the bathroom cabinet. His nose was twitching and he wasn’t able to open the box before sneezing again.

hah’ndgSHHHew!

He felt disgusting—drippy and germ-infested. Finally getting some tissues from the box, Q blotted his eyes and then blew his nose. It seemed to fill right back up but at least the urge to sneeze had backed off for the moment.

Q was surprised when he came out of the bedroom to find a plate of toast and a cup of tea waiting for him at the kitchen table. Well made tea, in fact he realized when he took a sip. Earl Grey with just a bit of lemon. Q assumed 007 simply drank hard liquor all the time, but it turned out the man could make a decent cuppa. The agent was seated across from him, studying the Quartermaster with a frown. Q sipped his tea but made no move to eat the toast. It was going to be brutal on his sore throat. As if reading his thoughts, Bond said.

"I can make you something else but you need to eat."

"Not hungry. Thanks for the tea though."

"You can't take these pills on an empty stomach," Bond said nodding towards the three prescription pill bottles on the table. Q sighed. He knew the other man was right but even tea was difficult to swallow at the moment. Bond got up and rifled through the kitchen cabinets while Q read the labels on his medications. "Oatmeal?" 007 called over his shoulder.

"Fine."

Q felt like he might be having an out of body experience watching one the world’s great secret agents mix and microwave a bowl of instant oatmeal. It was probably good though. Left to his own devices, Q would have definitely skipped eating and taking his medication in an effort to get straight to bed. Bond set the bowl in front of him with a clunk.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked.

“Um, some water?”

“Right.”

Q managed a few bites of oatmeal. It was definitely easier to eat that than toast would have been but he still didn’t feel much like eating. Bond sorted out one of each of the pills the younger man had been prescribed and put them on the table.

“Thanks,” Q said, forcing himself to take another two bites.

“That should be enough.” The look of relief on Q’s face must have been obvious because Bond took away the remnants of his oatmeal and toast. He downed the pills and took another sip of tea, sniffling. His nose pricked suddenly and Q barely managed to cup his hands in front of his face.

huh AHHGNTSSHHH! gn’TSHHHHeew! hah…ahh…hatNTSSHHHHeew! NDGSSCHHHeew!

Q kept is hands in front of his face, cheeks burning with humiliation. The surprisingly neutral ‘bless you’ from Bond was a far cry from the joke he was expecting. As was the quick way a paper towel appeared in front of his hands. He took it with a grateful nod and blew his nose before coughing. Q forced himself up and went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands and then rubbed a shaky hand over his face.

“Go to bed, Q,” Bond prompted. Right—bed. That’s what he was doing. He made it to his bedroom door before turning around.

“Thank you,” he said. Bond nodded.

He got his tissues and pulled the curtains closed before crawling into bed. He pulled the quilt up to his chin and tried to keep from replaying the day in his head. He had started out feeling awful but it wasn’t until midday that the fever hit him hard. After losing Baker—well, probably sometime during the operation but he hadn’t noticed until later. Q turned over and tried to get comfortable but every time he was on the verge of drifting off something woke him back up—a scene from the day, a pain in his sinuses, fighting off a sneeze. How could he be so restless when he felt so miserable?

"That wasn't much of a rest," Bond said without looking up from his phone. His lips twitched when he saw the normally neat and tidy Quartermaster shuffle into the room. His hair was sticking up in every direction possible, his glasses were askew, and he had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He looked like a kid. Hell, he basically was a kid. 

"Couldn't sleep."

"Insomnia?"

"No. Narcolepsy. What do you think?"

"No need to get nasty, Q."

He didn’t have the energy to deal with Bond but at least he’d moved to the chair so Q could have the sofa. He didn’t lie down yet.

"What are you doing here?" Q asked. 

"I told you, M told me to make sure you followed directions."

"You and I both know he didn't mean you had to play nursemaid." Much to his surprise, Q didn’t receive a sarcastic response. In fact, he could have sworn that Bond looked uncomfortable.

"Why did you...Earlier today you lied to Baker."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. It doesn't matter."

"It obviously does."

"You should get some sleep. That was the whole point of—"

"Bond, you're making my head hurt more than it already was. Just try and use your words."

"Why did you tell that elaborate lie to 009 about the weather?"

Oh. Ohhh.

"I knew he was dying." Q was sort of hoping that was all the explanation he was going to need to give but he could see that the blunt instrument sitting across from him wasn't getting it. He pulled some tissues from the box and held them to his nose rubbing it back and forth. When he started talking again his voice was thick and nasal. "He was alone in that cold and dirty warehouse and I was the voice in his ear. I wanted the last thing he thought of to be something good.” Q sniffled wetly. “Thought a white lie was worth it…I just wanted the last thing he heard to be something nice."

"Is that the first time you've done that?"

"No. I've done it for others. Don't always get the chance but I do what I can." 

Silence filled the room and Q saw the other man was still troubled. 

"007, while I'm normally infinitely smarter than you, I'm a bit under the weather and my brain is slow. Any chance you could get the hell on with it and ask me whatever it is you want to ask?"

A smirk tugged at Bond's lips and Q felt some of the tension ease. 

"Double 0's assume they'll die alone."

"They usually do," Q confirmed.

"I've never thought about having a friend by my side when I died but what you did today for Baker. It…it was very kind, Q."

The younger man blinked. He wondered if Bond realized he’d just labeled Q as a friend. Maybe anyone not actively trying to kill him qualified as a friend, but still, it gave him a warm feeling to know 007 held him in such high regard. He chose his next words carefully,

"We're all human beings, Bond. Even you Double 0's. No one deserves to die alone and scared."

"Death doesn't scare me."

"Don't be an idiot. Death scares everyone at least occasionally. It's the fear that keeps you alive."

"You've very philosophical for a tech genius with a raging fever."

"Imagine if I was on top of my game."

“Speaking of which,” Bond said. “You need sleep, Q.”

“Would that I could,” he mumbled. Insomnia was a common problem for Q and it usually struck at the most inconvenient time—like when he was fighting a respiratory infection and desperately needed rest. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The sneezes were coming back, the prickle between his eyes was a telltale harbinger.

“You know what I do when I can’t sleep?” Bond asked.

“Drink?”

“Precisely. What do you have around here?”

“I’m not ahh…Ahh…ugh. I’b not drinking hah AHH!” He couldn’t hold out any longer. Q’s body shuddered with the first three back-to-back sneezes.

HahGNSHHHeew! NGSCHHHeew! hh’NZTSHHHH!

He managed a shaky inhale and

hah…ahh…hatNTSSHHHHeew! NDGSSCHHHeew! gn’TSHHHHeew! huh AHHGNTSSHHH!

“Oh God,” Q groaned. He threw the soaked tissues to the side and got a fresh handful.

HAHgntsshhhheew! AHHHGNTSSHHHew! heh Ahh—ahhEHH…ahhHAHHKTSSCHHHEEW!!

With a final violent sneeze, the fit passed and Q leaned back, winded and dizzy.

“Bless you, Q.” Now that was a tone he’d never heard from Bond. He opened a set of watery eyes and saw the older man was crouched in front of him. “You sneezed your glasses off,” he said, slipping the frames back onto Q’s face and taking the opportunity to put his hand against his forehead. Bond got up and went into the kitchen and turned the water on in the sink. Q heard his footsteps returning. “Lie down now,” Bond said. Q stretched out on the sofa; the sneezing fit had made his head pound and left him too tired to argue. “Don’t wait so long before seeing a doctor next time,” Bond said as he put a cool, damp cloth on Q’s forehead. “You’re miserably sick.”

“MmHm,” Q hummed in agreement. Was 007 running his fingers through his hair? Q wondered. Or was the fever playing tricks on him? Bond didn’t seem like the caretaking type…of course he had looked after him all afternoon, taking him to the doctor, bringing him home, making tea and oatmeal. Maybe he was more of a caretaker than—

“Stop overthinking, Q and sleep.”

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

11 minutes ago, matilda3948 said:

"Couldn't sleep."

"Insomnia?"

"No. Narcolepsy. What do you think?"

"No need to get nasty, Q."

This exchange made me giggle.  Your characterization of Q is simply perfect. Plus picturing Ben in my head saying it flatly helps too

 

12 minutes ago, matilda3948 said:

Was 007 running his fingers through his hair? Q wondered. Or was the fever playing tricks on him?

Oh please let it be bits of both

[Elyze]

Loved it! Thanks for posting another part!

[queenie]

This was so darling! Q is quite miserable, poor baby. 

[Shamaël]

That was AWSOME. I've been absent for a while and I just discovered this today. Your characters are perfect. I love when Q is miserable. Shame, isn't it? Thank you for that Bond story, there are too few of them!

[Juto]

I know I'm terribly late to this but I had to pop in to tell what an absolute joy this was to read. The characterisation was spot on and there were so many little quips and quirks that might as well have been in the show. 

Your protrayal of a sick Q and a somewhat pining or at the very least caring Bond was simply adorable to the point of unbearably heart wrenching !!! 

Thank you. 

[AngelEyes]

This is adorable! Thanks to you and @AdrianMarx, myself that had never seen a Bond film, has spent the entire week binge watching them. What was a wonderful story in it's own right, is even better now that I know the characters. And Ben! Awww! You totally have his sweet caring, yet snarky self down pat. Love it!