Chapter Text
M was approaching and he was busy, so he kept typing, still ignoring Bond’s presence. He was teasing him again, his version of flirting without making it too obvious. Q tolerated it, because he was good at it when he tried hard enough, he didn’t overstep professional boundaries, it meant he trusted Q’s decisions on missions and most importantly, Q fancied the hell out of him. Not that he was going to let on, not yet anyway. Bond was too used to easy seductions, he was going to have to work for this.
He wondered what had brought M here, there was no emergency and he wasn’t one for social calls. Politics then. He glanced up and saw that he wasn’t alone. The man following was tall, slim, blond hair falling in a heavy fringe over sharp cheekbones. Nice retro suit that fitted perfectly. He exuded confidence, danger and sex. Q managed to keep his usual professional façade.
“M.”
“Q.” He nodded at Bond. “007.”
The man held out his hand to Bond with a grin.
“James.”
“Peter.” Bond took it with a wry smile. Q’s eyebrows raised. They seemed to know each other, professionally at least. Peter was slightly taller than Bond and together… Q thanked whatever deity was around. Fuck, they looked good. Christmas had obviously come early to Q branch.
M was talking to him.
“…. so MI5 have sent him over on loan…” He tuned out again as Peter turned to him. He walked around the desk rather than keeping to the normal social parameters.
“Q, delighted to meet you.” He shook his hand, grip firm and prolonged. Q looked down. His fingers were long and surprisingly delicate. He stopped his mind wandering in that direction and looked up at him.
“Peter Guillam.” His voice was deep and his lips were incredible. Q couldn’t help but lick his. He nodded and looked questioningly at M.
“I think they’re rather jealous of our tech and your handling skills.” M grinned. “I’m just showing him around, see you later for a full brief.” He nodded to Guillam.
Q realised that Guillam was still holding his hand as he slid his fingers slowly out of his, tips brushing his wrist.
“l look forward to seeing you around.” He bent slightly closer, voice lower. “Brains as well as beauty.” A slight smirk played around his lips. Q barely stopped himself from blushing furiously and taking the infuriating compliment. Instead he frowned, snatching his hand back and moving to his keyboard.
“Agent.” Guillam chuckled and followed M. Q watched Bond out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t looking happy. He could see his hackles rise. Jealously, definitely. He waited a few minutes then huffed.
“Bloody unprofessional behaviour. Coming on to you like that.” Q raised his eyebrows.
“Really?” Bond stopped. “Pot, kettle?” Bond sat on the edge of his desk.
“I don’t…”
“Do. Incessantly.”
“Oh.” He looked at him. “Do you mind?” Q looked at him.
“If you remain professional, do your job, not be objectionable or take things further than consent has been given, then no.” He watched his reaction. “Jealously and possessiveness however, that I do object to. You don’t own me and I decide what’s acceptable.” Bond regarded him impassively.
“Sorry.” Q shook his head.
“It’s okay, sorry that was a bit heavy for the workplace.” Bond smiled and looked away for a moment.
“Okay, at the risk of you biting my head off, shall we continue this over dinner?” Q started typing again, not looking at him as he considered. Why not? It was the first time he’d actually made his interest open. But he’d keep it just friendly for now, especially with Guillam on the scene. He might even ask the agent out himself, if he didn’t ask first.
“Why not? Just dinner though.”
“Yes, of course. Tomorrow at seven? I’ll text you the details once I’ve booked.” He slid off the desk as Q nodded, not looking up.
He returned a few hours later with a long, narrow bouquet of flowers clutched discreetly to his chest.
“Sorry.” Q blushed as he presented them to him.
“Office, now 007.” He hissed and pushed him in, shutting the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Apologising.” Bond looked crestfallen.
“Well, yes, but not in front of my staff. For fucks sake, how am I supposed to maintain my authority if you bring me flowers.” He looked at them. “Very nice flowers, thank you.” Bond laughed.
“You wouldn’t be ashamed to go out with me would you?” Q glowered, ignoring Bond’s complete and deliberate missing the point.
“Just go.” Bond winked, leaving the flowers on his desk.
“See you tomorrow.” Q looked at them. He’d obviously given the selection some thought. He sighed before walking out and asking one of the nearby staff who currently didn’t seem too preoccupied with anything like work, to find a vase for the flowers.
“There’s no need for the innocent flowers to suffer.” He growled.
After an hour or so, he wandered down to the canteen for lunch, stomach protesting. Despite appearances, he did eat, his constant activity and nervous energy burnt off any excess as did regular use of the gym. He knew he had to, otherwise his sedentary office life would lead to health problems later. Plus he had to keep up certain skills due to the nature of the job. Anyone trying to overpower him would be in for an unpleasant surprise.
He ate his salad before moving onto his beef casserole thinking about his potential new agent. He’d wished he’d paid more attention to what M was saying rather than gawping. Thankfully, his poker face was rather good. He was bloody attractive, a leaner version of Bond in some ways, even more of a flirt, but that may have been for Bond’s benefit. He’d obviously been watching him as they approached and he’d be a pretty shoddy asset if he couldn’t read Bond’s language. His musings were interrupted by the sight of Guillam sitting down on a table on the other side of the room. He’d not seen Q due to the position of the pillar beside him. One he often used so that he could dine alone. He watched him eat as he finished his meal.
He obviously didn’t mind being observed. Q was experienced enough at reading the subtle tells to see that he’d noted his attention. He was quick and efficient, refueling, rather than indulging in the sensory pleasure of eating. No doubt that would be different if he had company. He’d ask him later.
The program required concentration, so he was using his office when Guillam knocked and entered bearing two coffees and what looked like a cellophane wrapped bag of biscotti, Q noted as he walked towards him.
“Afternoon, Q. I took the liberty of providing coffee and biscuits while I pick your brain.” He looked at him in surprise.
“What?” He put the takeaway cup of coffee in front of him. It was from the very good Italian deli nearby. He’d obviously done his research. “Thank you.” Guillam smiled, it reached his eyes and Q returned it.
“Sorry, didn’t M say? I wanted a chance to talk to you about your methods for handling agents. I understand you are very good.” He raised his eyebrow. “There should be an email from M giving me full clearance, if you want to talk.” He checked his inbox. So there was. Apparently, MI5 were having issues with some of their surveillance methods, he knew that his equivalent was good, but not as good as him and that wasn’t arrogance on his part. It was why he was head of department. M had added an addendum. They wanted to recruit Guillam and Q should try and facilitate this. He hide a wry smile. That wouldn’t be too onerous a task. Obviously the other necessary checks had been done to make sure he was worth it and clean. He’d run his own, of course. He sat back. He’d give him some info, enough to tempt him, but nothing MI5 could use and keep him.
“Okay.” He took the coffee. “Just let me finish this section, then we can chat.” Guillam settled back into his chair, his eyes watching him, he was more languorous than Bond, but still as deadly and distracting.
The next hour was fruitful. He was intelligent and understood most of what Q was telling him and he liked how his mind worked. He was also biddable. Probably more so than James. He knew that he’d be given a mission while he was here, probably the two of them together, god help him.
“I’m not stupid and I will never risk an agent’s life, I will listen to you, but I can see more sometimes, so try not to ignore me, unlike someone I could care to mention.” He laughed and looked at the flowers.
“Of course. Nice. From an admirer?” He asked innocently.
“A pain in the arse.” He grinned. “But he said sorry.” Guillam’s phone rang.
“I have to get this, sorry.” He rose to leave. “Can we finish this later?” He looked questioningly at Q. He nodded.
“Yes. Drop by later when I’ve finished and we can grab a bite to eat.”
“Seven?” Q nodded as he stood up and answered the phone as he left, chucking the empty cartons and wrapper in the bin. Tidy too, Q smiled to himself.