Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God
Dec. 6th, 2017 08:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwyllionTitle: Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God
Author: gwylliondream
Pairing: 00QAD (James Bond/Q/Alex Turner/Danny Holt)
Rating: R
Words: 50K
Warnings: Minor character death
A/N: Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God was written for NaNoWriMo 2017. Please see Chapter 1 for additional notes.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading.
Alex stood in the hallway, waiting for Bond to remember the password.
“It was something like Bartleby the Scrivener,” Bond said.
“It’s incredible that you cannot remember something so simple as a Dickens’ character’s name,” Alex said.
“They’re based on our initials, that’s why I remembered Bartleby, but that’s not it.”
“From what novel is your code name?”
“I didn’t realise I was supposed to know that,” Bond said. “It’s not a popular one.”
The pizza boxes made Alex’s hand ache after a while. “Not popular,” he quipped. “How about Dombey and Son, not popular today, but that was the one that sealed Dickens’ reputation as a serial novelist.”
“That’s it,” Bond said. “It’s Bugsy… Jack Bugsy.”
“Busby, perhaps,” Alex said.
“You are very smart, aren’t you?” Bond said. He knocked on the door. “They probably would have smelled the pizza and let us in anyway,” he whispered.
“It’s Bunsby,” Q said, opening the door.
“I can’t fool you,” Bond said, pressing a kiss to Q’s lips. “And I have a surprise for Danny—proof that I’m not a complete arsehole.”
Alex couldn’t stand still in the hallway any longer. When Bond first explained his plan, Alex thought this might be a bad idea, surprising Danny like this. Danny had been through so many stressful experiences these past months, a less intelligent man would fear that Danny would have a heart attack when he saw Alex. But heart attacks do not work that way and although he smoked, Danny’s cholesterol was within a healthy range.
He handed the pizza boxes to Q and took three steps into the room.
Danny had been sitting on the loveseat petting Pampuria when Q answered the door. Now he stood in front of Alex with a hand covering his mouth as if to hold all of the emotion of the past months inside him, where they couldn’t escape out into the world because if they did, their force would be too strong for the world to survive and something would explode with the ferocity of a splitting atom.
“Danny?” Alex said.
Danny began to cry even before Alex embraced him.
Pampuria meowed fretfully.
“Danny….”
Alex could feel Danny’s hot tears as the rolled down his cheeks, soaking the shoulder of his MI6-issued safehouse T-shirt. His chest heaved up and down with the inability to control his emotion.
Finally, Alex found Danny’s lips and kissed him. He poured all of his soul into it and held back none of his feelings. It had been so long.
Q had to grab some tissues because both men were a sobbing mess. Even Bond had a tear in his eye.
“I went to your flat,” Danny whispered. “And you were gone.”
“I know,” Alex said, embracing Danny tighter.
“I thought you were dead,” Danny cried.
“I’m so sorry. I had the feeling they were going to make a move against me. I knew too much, even too much for MI5. When I wouldn’t cooperate with them, they faked my death and brought me to America.”
“They lied to me,” Danny complained.
“They did, but you found the clue I left for you,” Alex said, leaning back and cupping Danny’s face with both hands. “Bond tells me that you figured out the cypher. I knew you were smart enough to figure it out.”
Alex covered Danny’s face with kisses.
“The six zeros and the one. My soul’s one mate.”
“Who knows?” Alex shrugged. “Maybe soulmates do exist after all.”
“You didn’t believe that soulmates existed before,” Danny sobbed.
“I know,” Alex said, because there was nothing else he could say. He knew that the romantic in Danny wanted to believe. Alex’s long ordeal and brush with death had taught him one thing if nothing else and that was if Danny wanted to believe, he should not interfere by pointing out the impossibility of Danny’s hypothesis. The hope that Danny had was enough to get Alex transported to London immediately after his rescue, instead of languishing in the American court system that the FBI was beholden to follow the strict rules that they employed.
“Before things get too intense,” Bond said. “I hope you two understand that we can’t leave you alone here.”
Alex’s mouth fell open.
Danny said, “You mean like for a more intimate reunion?”
Alex felt his face get hot when he realized Bond was talking about sex. Did that man ever think of anything else? Alex supposed he was fortunate that Bond propositioned him all those months ago when Danny had urged him to explore his sexuality with different partners. Those were still in the early days of Danny and Alex’s relationship. Of the few different beds Alex tried during that time, Bond’s was definitely the most memorable and satisfying—next to Danny’s, of course.
“There will be time for that soon,” Alex said, resting his hand on Danny’s chest.
“And we only have about an hour,” Bond said, checking his Omega.
“And the pizza is getting cold,” Q added, nodding at the boxes he had set down on the small counter in the kitchenette. Turing leaped onto the counter as soon as Q opened the first box. “With all these kidnappings taking place, I don’t want to be the one to explain to M that Bond took Alex from a MI6 safehouse.”
“All these kidnappings?” Danny asked. “I know about mine and Alex’s, but were there others?”
Q held his cast up.
“Oh, you didn’t tell me that before,” Danny said. “And that’s how you were hurt?”
“I put up a bit of a fight,” Q said, taking a slice of pizza from a box.
Alex thought Q sounded a bit proud for his actions. He could only imagine what it would be like to try to fight a man of Q’s build. Alex had lost much of his fitness level while he was held against his will, yet still he thought he could pin Q down in a matter of seconds without too much of a fuss from the MI6 Quartermaster. Foreshadowing, let me show it to you.
“How did you get Alex out of the safehouse to visit me?” Danny asked, grabbing a greasy slice of pizza and folding it in half to eat it. “Not that I’m complaining and not that you have to tell me any more of your top secret stuff.”
“It’s relatively simple matter to stop the security cameras from capturing new images,” Bond said. “And picking locks is the very first thing you’re taught as a MI6 agent.”
Bond looked at the pizza with disdain. Alex imagined that Bond would rather go hungry than eat any food that wasn’t Michelin starred.
Alex chose a slice of pizza from the box and joined Danny on the loveseat.
Bond sat on the floor with his back against the wall. “Why don’t you just bring the boxes over here,” he asked when Q went for another slice. “We haven’t got much time.”
Q took the boxes and waded his way around Pampuria and Turing who were ever curious about the boxes of cheesy pizza that had been brought into their domain.
“Speaking of boxes,” Alex said, “did you get the clue I sent to you? It was carved into the bottom of a small cardboard box.”
“I did!” Danny said. “I have to tell you, it filled me with such hope to know that you were alive somewhere. It made me unstoppable in my search for you… well, on most days.”
“You must have had some dark times during this ordeal,” Q said.
“Some days, I didn’t know whether I would live or die, whether you would find me,” Alex said. “When another entity sought the technology I had developed. MI5 sold me out to them, with no regard for the importance of my research. It was called SPECTRE.”
“Unfortunately, we’re all too familiar with their organization,” Bond said.
“But I knew how important my research was. I told them nothing—not even when they tried to convince me that Q worked for them,” Alex said. “That’s when I took the chance to send you a message.”
Danny hugged Alex and rested his head on his shoulder. “It was worth it, though,” he said.
“I knew it would signal to you that I was alive and still thinking of you,” Alex said. “I trusted you, trusted that your love for me would give you the strength to keep trying to find me.”
“I was so shocked when the box was delivered to Scottie’s house,” Danny said. “How did you ever manage that?”
“Oh, you’ve never met Spencer,” Alex said, only just realizing that Danny had never met his ally. These past days had been a blur of activity with being rescued and brought back to London, then de-briefed by MI6, and held in the safehouse, and now with being reunited with Danny. It was a wonder he could make sense of it all. “Spencer was with the FBI and he had infiltrated my captor’s operation. We became good friends. I put a lot of trust in him and it paid off.”
“The box smelled like the ocean,” Danny said, crinkling his nose up. He was every bit as adorable as Alex remembered. He reached for Danny’s freshly-shaven face and traced his cheek with the back of his knuckles, just because he could.
“I was held on an island in Chesapeake Bay. I could smell the ocean too, when I get some fresh air pumped into my room. And sometimes I thought I could hear seagulls outside. It didn’t surprise me to know I was near the water.”
When they had eaten their fill of pizza, Bond sat on the floor with Q’s head in his lap. They made a nice couple, Alex thought, as he watched Bond card his fingers through Q’s messy curls. Soon enough, he would be able to spend a day doing just such a thing to Danny. It would be a pleasant way to spend their time until they were ready to make love again.
Danny lifted his head from Alex’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry about Frances,” he said. “I meant to say something earlier.”
“Thank you, Danny,” Alex said. “Thank you for being a friend to her when she needed one.”
Danny hugged Alex tighter. “She had your best interests at heart, most of the time,” he said.
“I’m sorry that I’ll never see her again,” Alex said as he gently stroked Danny’s back. “She was like a mother to me, but not really. In some ways she was much more than a mother, but in some ways, she was the worst mother imaginable.”
“It’s complicated,” Danny said. “I understand.”
Bond’s mobile rang, and he said, “Uh,oh, I bet we’re in trouble now. It’s Eve.”
“Bond, where are you?” Eve asked, her voice clear in the quiet of the room.
“I’m somewhere safe,” he said with a wink. “Where are you? What are you wearing?”
“Knock it off, Bond,” Eve said. “There’s been an explosion at Q’s flat. Mallory wants you in his office at 7:00 AM tomorrow morning.
~
Eve showed Bond into Mallory’s office. He was a half-hour early and hadn’t had nearly enough caffeine yet, despite subjecting himself to a cup of Q’s Earl Grey when he dropped him off in Q-Branch before ascending in the lift to meet with Mallory.
“He’s in a conference with Director Wray,” Eve said. “There are more double-ohs on the way.”
“A double-oh convention, then?” Bond asked. “That can’t be good.”
Eve simply smiled and closed the door behind her.
It would be to no avail for Bond to worry about his job security at this point. Even if Mallory knew that he freed Alex from the safehouse for a visit with his lover, he wouldn’t call in the FBI about it, would he?
Maybe he would. The FBI worked hard to secure that asset from his captors. In any case, Bond would know more in about twenty minutes.
After bringing Alex back to the safehouse the night before, Bond drove Q to the site of his former flat. Both Eve and Double-oh Two were there, sifting through the rubble. The fire trucks and police cars had blocked the street off from travel and the area where Q’s flat once stood was an active scene of smoke, fire, and fury.
“Thank goodness, no one was killed,” Q said as he watched the firemen hose down the last of the hot spots.
“I’m so sorry, Q,” Bond said, wrapping Q in a warm embrace.
“I’ll be all right, I think,” Q said, turning to Bond. “Thank God the cats are with Danny. Most of my important projects are in work or in the cloud. I’ll be able to rebuild whatever was lost.”
“But what about all your belongings?” Bond asked. “You had quite the cardigan collection.”
Q waved off Bond’s concern with his neon green cast. “It’s certainly sad, and I’m sure I’ll have many times ahead of me when I’ll mourn the loss of a certain pair of shoes or a favourite book, but those were just things… objects,” he said. “Growing up in the orphanage, I learned to detach myself from most material things. It’s a terrible loss, but it’s not the end of the world.”
Listening to Q’s evaluation of the things he lost in the explosion broke Bond’s heart. He vowed that he would make sure he helped Q re-build his hideous cardigan collection and then some.
“I know it’s small,” Bond said, “but you’re welcome to stay at my flat for as long as you’d like. I’m hardly there, except when I’m back from missions. I can make some room for you.”
“That would be lovely, Bond, just lovely,” Q said with a smile that seemed to forget the tragedy of losing his flat and all his belongings.
Bond was glad that he could offer Q some small measure of comfort on this awful night.
“Good to see you, Bond,” Eve had walked through the smoky haze to approach Bond.
“I’m so sorry, Q,” Eve said. “When the fire is out, I’m sure you’ll be able to salvage some things, although the smoke damage will make most of your possessions unusable.”
“Thanks, Eve,” Q said. “I’m glad you notified us right away. Do they have any idea who did this?”
“Double-oh Two has been working this case for a week now,” Eve said. “I just talked to him and he tells me that all of the explosives that the bomb squad found when they first searched your flat had been deactivated. They’re with forensics now.”
“I suppose they could have missed one,” Q said.
“Unfortunately, that’s all it takes,” Bond said. He noticed Double-oh Two with a few MI5 officials as they talked to the police. Double-oh Two, Tom Ellis, had been with MI6 for more than a decade. Bond liked him well enough. Tall, dark, and Welsh, he barely stood out in the site of destruction since he was clad in his trademark black suit.
“What are they doing here?” Q asked.
“Who? Double-oh Two?” Eve jumped in.
“No,” Q said. “MI5. After what they did to Alex and Danny, I can’t stand the sight of them anymore.”
“Domestic investigation, love,” Eve said. “Shall I get rid of them?”
“Please,” Q said.
Eve left to talk with the crew from MI5. When she did, Double-oh Two trotted over to where Bond and Q watched the scene.
“Hey,” Ellis said. “I’m sorry about your flat, Quartermaster.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Q said. “Any new leads?”
“We’re getting close,” Ellis said. I’m supposed to meet with Mallory tomorrow morning to discuss the investigation after I meet with forensics.”
And that’s how Bond came to be sat beside Ellis in Mallory’s office while they waited for the others to arrive.
The door opened and Eve showed Double-oh Five into Mallory’s office.
“Gentlemen,” Double-oh Five greeted.
Double-oh Five, Corinna Moscatti, was a bear of a woman. Statuesque, and with as much muscle as fat, she once beat Bond in an arm wrestling match at the MI6 Christmas party. He’d stayed away from her as much as possible in the years that followed. She had been on mission in Germany before she was called in to help with the investigation into the gang that kidnapped Danny Holt and killed Frances Turner.
“Corinna,” Bond said with a nod.
“Hello darling,” Ellis made room on the leather sofa for Corinna to be seated.
“I suppose you heard there’s been a break in the investigation on the Holt kidnapping?” she asked, directing her attention to Bond.
Bond sat up straight. “I hadn’t. Do tell,” Bond said. “I’ve been doing my share of work on what happened to his partner.”
Just then, Mallory entered his office, right on time.
The agents stood while Mallory dropped the folder he was carrying onto the top of his desk. He took his seat in the tall leather chair. “Gentlemen, and lady,” he said.
The agents replied their mumbled good mornings before sitting with Mallory.
“Double-oh Three is finishing up our meeting with the FBI. She will be along momentarily. As you might expect, there has been some progress made on the cases you’ve been working.” Mallory said. He opened the folder.
Bond and the other agents listened attentively.
“Double-oh Two has received this report from forensics this morning,” Mallory said.
Ellis nodded in agreement.
“It seems the explosives used in the Quartermaster’s flat were produced in a chemical plant in Prague. The plant operates commercially, and it is owned by one Harom Hladik.”
Bond bristled at the name.
“Does anyone here, besides Double-oh Two, know Harom Hladik?”
Bond responded immediately. “It’s one of Blofeld’s aliases. He used it when he had dealings in Prague.”
“Very good,” Mallory said.
Just then, Eve showed Double-oh Three into Mallory’s office.
“Three,” Mallory said with a nod, “has been meeting with the FBI, regarding the Quartermaster’s kidnapping last month. We just attended a virtual meeting with them, where some new information came to light. Can you summarize for us?”
Double-oh Three, Andrea Wilsher, a communications specialist with severely short hair and the best scores of any double-oh on the target range, nodded to the other double-ohs.
“The recordings that the Quartermaster made while he was held have been located, in the U.S.” Wilsher said. “They were analysed by the FBI, who M and I just conferenced with because they were used to attempt to coerce Alex Turner into divulging critical information about his truth-telling research to his captors. By now, we all should know that Turner’s captors were part of SPECTRE, which, according to the men the FBI took into custody when Turner was freed, is still headed by Ernst Stavro Blofeld.”
Bond wasn’t surprised to learn that SPECTRE had its hand in the technology behind Turner’s research. And Q had insisted all along that his kidnappers were using him to get information from a third party, something that Turner had confirmed himself when he met Q the night before.
“But Blofeld is in prison,” Bond interjected. “How can he continue to lead SPECTRE when he is incarcerated?”
“But, wait,” Mallory said. “There’s more. Five?”
“It appears that the gang who kidnapped Holt and killed Frances Turner were part of an operation headed by one William Marston,” Moscatti said.
“I’ve heard that name before,’ Ellis said.
“It’s from the report on SPECTRE,” Bond said, remembering all too well every name on the list of operatives that he met in Italy on a trip that ended with the Aston Martin in the Tiber.
“He was one of Blofeld’s accomplices,” Wilsher said.
“He was one of many, that were never brought to justice,” Bond added.
Just then, Mallory pulled another report from his folder. “It seems like he was involved in SPECTRE’s quest for information from Turner.”
“That’s why Danny Holt was kidnapped?” Bond asked.
“He was to be used as a pawn to get Turner to cave,” Wilsher said. “Just like they planned to do with Q.”
“And Frances showed up to help Danny, as expected,” Ellis said.
“Yes, and she was killed,” Mallory said. “Even more disturbing is the fact that Marston seems to appreciate the power of Turner’s research and he planned to use some of its mind-altering aspects to get Turner to divulge more information that provided to key to using it.”
“Marston is a gang lord,” Moscatti said. “He’s surely not capable of using high-level technology like that.”
“He has an accomplice,” Bond said. He didn’t like where this was going.
“SPECTRE,” Ellis said.
“Ernst Stavro Blofeld,” Moscatti said.
“But Blofeld is in prison,” Wilsher said, “How can he still be running SPECTRE?”
~
“It’s me, Daniel Quilp,” Q said. That morning, he had called to give Danny the good news that he could return to his beautiful home on Hampstead Heath. Q had planned to use his lunch hour to collect Pampuria and Turing. He’d bring them to his office in Q-Branch, which was a little more like a home to them than a safehouse. He could hear Danny moving around inside the small studio flat.
“Daniel Quilp?” Danny said, “Come right in.”
“I didn’t know if you still expected us to use the code names,” Q said with a laugh. “You’re a free man, now.”
“From now on, I’ll be Daniel, and you can be Q,” Danny said. “But you can call me Danny.”
“That will be fine with us,” Q said, giving Danny a warm hug.
“Us?” Danny asked, looking to see if anyone stood behind Q. “Is Bond with you?”
“No, he had business back at Six. It seems like they’re ready to solve the mystery of our kidnappings,” Q said.
Pampuria stretched on the loveseat. She looked like she had just awoken from a catnap.
“Yes, Miss Moneypenny called me this morning to bring me up to speed,” Danny said. “I’m so sorry to hear about your flat. If there’s anything I can do, I mean, if you need a place to stay, I have that big house with more rooms than I know what to do with.”
“That’s very kind of you, Danny,” Q said. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I decide to take you up on the offer.”
“Well, make yourself at home here, for a few minutes at least,” Danny said. “I’m sure you know, but according to Moneypenny, it seems like the case has blown wide open.”
“That’s true,” Q said, bending down to pet Turing. He was surprised that Danny seemed like a close friend to him, although they had only met the night before. He already knew so much about him. And they shared the love of his cats. He hoped he wasn’t presumptuous when it came to sharing more information about their respective cases with him. “Sadly, we think that one man is behind the whole thing.”
“Blofeld,” Danny said. “I heard. He’s the same guy who wreaked all kinds of havoc for Bond last year.”
“He’s in prison now, but apparently he’s still managing SPECTRE operations somehow. Sadly enough, Bond was a sort of foster brother to him. Blofeld’s father took Bond in when his parents were killed,” Q said.
“Ugh,” Danny grumbled. “I know a thing or two about shitty family relations.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Q said. “But now you can start your own family with Alex,” Q said brightly.
“I can’t wait. Can I offer you a cuppa? I was just getting ready to make one myself,” Danny said.
“That would be lovely,” Q said. “I didn’t get much sleep last night and I could use another dose of caffeine.”
“I’ve been tidying up the flat,” Danny said as he set the pot to boil. “Not that there’s much for me to pack to bring home. I hardly have anything of mine here.”
“You must be looking forward to getting home,” Q said. He made himself comfortable on the loveseat while Danny fixed their tea.
“Yes, and I hope Alex will be willing to move there with me when he’s cleared by MI6,” Danny said.
“You must have missed him terribly,” Q said.
Danny brought the Styrofoam cups of tea over to the loveseat and sat beside Q.
“Our lives were so simple. One minute we had plans to go away for the weekend, the next, he was dead, killed by MI5, or so I thought,” Danny said. “They’re still trying to figure who at MI5 let SPECTRE take him. Until they figure that out, I think Alex will have to stay under lock and key.”
“Sometimes, it’s simply a matter of offering the right bribe at the right time,” Q said, taking a sip of tea.
“Some people will do anything to get what they want, no matter how many people they hurt along the way,” Danny said.
“And without regard for the consequences,” Q said.
“Such fancy talk,” Danny said. “You didn’t grow up in East London, did you?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Q said with a laugh. “I must sound like a pretentious arse to you.”
“Think nothing of it,” Danny said. “I like you just the way you are. You remind me of Alex with his fancy grown-up talk.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” Q said.
“It is,” Danny said, reaching out to pet Pampuria who had settled on the arm of the loveseat. “I hope that we’ll be able to be good friends when this is all over.”
“Me too,” Q said.
The thought that he and Bond could be friends with Danny and Alex made Q feel warm all over. Q didn’t have much time for friends since he spent long hours at MI6. The only people he socialized with outside of work were the same people from work, Moneypenny, R, Tanner, sometimes Bond and the other double-ohs.
It would be amazing to learn some things from Alex, who was purportedly one of the most brilliant minds in all of Britain. And Danny seemed like he’d be a lot of fun to hang out with. Perhaps he’d make Q relax and not be so uptight about things that were beyond his control.
“How long have you and Bond been together?” Danny asked, sipping his tea.
“Not very long,” Q said with a smile.
“He’s quite a catch,” Danny said.
“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Q asked. He could hardly believe his words. When had Q ever dished about a hot double-oh with a complete stranger? It felt good.
“And, hey, thanks for helping me look good for when he brought Alex by,” Danny said.
“You would have looked good to Alex if you were wearing rags and sporting three days of stubble,” Q said.
“Did you know he was going to bring Alex to me?” Danny asked, his eyes glittering with joy.
“I didn’t,” Q said. “I was as surprised as you were.”
Pampuria’s ears suddenly went back.
Danny and Q were startled to hear a beep as the door of the safehouse flat opened and a woman stepped inside.
“Excuse me,” Danny said. “I think you have the wrong room.”
“Oh, no,” Barbara said. “if there’s anything I know, it’s my room numbers. It’s you two who don’t belong here.”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Q said. “I’m here to pick up my cats, but Danny has this room until this evening at the earliest.”
“If I may,” Danny began. “Actually, I told Eve that I’d be out by noon. But then you called and said you would come by for the cats during your lunch, so here we are.”
Q looked Barbara up and down. “Aren’t you the waitress from Le Papillon?”
“I used to be,” Barbara said. “I got a promotion.”
At first, Q assumed the promotion was to the position of housekeeper for the hotel chain, but then it dawned on him that Barbara was the MI6 safehouse caretaker. It was a strange thought, but it seemed to fit.
“Miss, I’m pretty sure that we are not supposed to be here at the same time as you,” Q said.
“You can call me Barbara, Barbara Bradford. Don’t you remember me from Ingmar’s restaurant?”
Barbara wandered into the loo. Q could hear her opening and closing the cabinets and the drawers.
Danny shrugged at Q.
“I do,” Q said, eyeing Danny. He was at a loss for what to say. He assured Danny, saying, “This usually doesn’t work this way.”
“Well, Barbara,” Danny said. “You’ll be happy to know that I tidied up a bit for you. There shouldn’t be too much for you to do. In fact, Mr… er… Quilp and I were just leaving.”
“On the contrary,” Barbara said. She marched into the living area with her hands on her hips. “You used nearly every article of clothing while you were here. And all the toiletries. Those things cost money to replace, you know.”
“Okay,” Danny said holding his hands up in surrender. “Next time, I’ll be more conscientious.”
“See that you do,” Barbara said, wandering about the flat. Suddenly, she shouted, “Oh my God!”
“What?” Danny asked.
“Oh my God!”
“What is it?” Q asked, rushing to Barbara’s side. There was nothing to see, except Pampuria twining around her feet.
“It’s her,” Barbara said.
Q didn’t see anyone. “Who?” he asked.
“This is my boyfriend’s cat,” Barbara said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Danny said. “This is Q… uh… Mr. Quilp’s cat. I’ve been looking after it for him.”
“Nonsense!” Barbara yelled.
Danny tilted his head toward Q and whispered conspiratorially, “You didn’t steal the cat, did you?”
“Of course not,” Q said. “Pampuria was given to me by a close friend.”
“Believe me,” Barbara said. “I know my cat breeds better than anyone. This is a silver shaded Persian. By the look of her head shape, she’s most likely from Wyndecreste Persians in London. I’d guess that her dam was Wyndecreste’s Sweet Pea, who had three litters of four, each of which went on to become Cat Fanciers’ Association Grand Champions. Her sire was definitely Wyndecreste’s Silver Snow, which I can tell because of the shading on the tips of this cat’s ears. I know this is my boyfriend’s cat!”
“This is impossible,” Q said throwing his hands in the air.
“Look,” Danny said. “Q… eh… Mr. Q… has had this cat for a long time. How long has your boyfriend’s cat been missing?”
The room suddenly went quiet.
Barbara stammered, “I… I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
“Here’s my mobile,” Danny said, handing it off to Barbara. “Give him a call and we’ll find out.”
“I have my own mobile, thank you very much,” Barbara said. “But I can’t call him.”
“Well, why not?” Q asked.
“I’ll show you pictures of his cat. He sent them to me. I scanned them in,” Barbara said, reaching into her pocket for her mobile.
“You scanned them in? Why? You’ve never seen the cat in person?” Danny asked.
“He sent me photographs of his cat in the mail,” Barbara said.
“That’s weird. How long has this fellow been your boyfriend?” Danny asked.
Barbara scrolled through the photos until she found the images of the cat. “Here she is.”
Q took the phone from Barbara and examined the photos of the cat. His jaw nearly dropped. Pampuria resembled Barbara’s boyfriend’s missing cat even more than Q resembled Danny. Q handed the phone to Danny so he could have a look.
“Where is your boyfriend now?” Danny asked, glancing at the photos before focusing his eyes on Barbara.
“I can’t tell you… We write to each other. He’s more like a pen pal sort of boyfriend,” Barbara said.
Q briefly wondered how they had sex, but Danny’s level head prevailed.
“Where has he gone, that you can’t call him?” Danny persisted.
“He’s a good person, I swear,” Barbara said. “He got into some trouble with parking tickets and he….” Barbara began to weep.
“He’s in jail, isn’t he?” Danny asked.
Barbara nodded her head.
“He writes you letters from jail, does he?” Danny asked. “As part of a prisoner pen pal scheme I suppose? Q, Pampuria was Blofeld’s cat. This is how Blofeld is directing operations for SPECTRE. And Barbara is his accomplice.”
Q clapped Danny on the back. He could kiss him right now. “I’m calling Mallory,” Q said.
“I’ve said too much,” Barbara said, all flustered. She ran for the door, but Danny stopped her.
“Moneypenny, put me through directly to M,” Q barked into his mobile.
“No!” Barbara yelled. “You have no right to keep me here!”
Q waited for Mallory to pick up, but he couldn’t hear from all the commotion with Barbara punching and kicking Danny as he tried to prevent her escape.
“You can’t stop me from leaving!” Barbara shouted.
Barbara landed one good kick to Danny’s balls and he collapsed to the floor. Q dropped the mobile and rushed to help him.
“Don’t let her get away!” Danny cried out.
Barbara struggled with the door handle and Q used the best weapon he had.
It wasn’t his right fist.
He raised his left hand and brought the bright green cast down on Barbara’s head. A sickening crack pierced the air before Barbara fell to the ground with a thud.
~
Author: gwylliondream
Pairing: 00QAD (James Bond/Q/Alex Turner/Danny Holt)
Rating: R
Words: 50K
Warnings: Minor character death
A/N: Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God was written for NaNoWriMo 2017. Please see Chapter 1 for additional notes.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading.
Alex stood in the hallway, waiting for Bond to remember the password.
“It was something like Bartleby the Scrivener,” Bond said.
“It’s incredible that you cannot remember something so simple as a Dickens’ character’s name,” Alex said.
“They’re based on our initials, that’s why I remembered Bartleby, but that’s not it.”
“From what novel is your code name?”
“I didn’t realise I was supposed to know that,” Bond said. “It’s not a popular one.”
The pizza boxes made Alex’s hand ache after a while. “Not popular,” he quipped. “How about Dombey and Son, not popular today, but that was the one that sealed Dickens’ reputation as a serial novelist.”
“That’s it,” Bond said. “It’s Bugsy… Jack Bugsy.”
“Busby, perhaps,” Alex said.
“You are very smart, aren’t you?” Bond said. He knocked on the door. “They probably would have smelled the pizza and let us in anyway,” he whispered.
“It’s Bunsby,” Q said, opening the door.
“I can’t fool you,” Bond said, pressing a kiss to Q’s lips. “And I have a surprise for Danny—proof that I’m not a complete arsehole.”
Alex couldn’t stand still in the hallway any longer. When Bond first explained his plan, Alex thought this might be a bad idea, surprising Danny like this. Danny had been through so many stressful experiences these past months, a less intelligent man would fear that Danny would have a heart attack when he saw Alex. But heart attacks do not work that way and although he smoked, Danny’s cholesterol was within a healthy range.
He handed the pizza boxes to Q and took three steps into the room.
Danny had been sitting on the loveseat petting Pampuria when Q answered the door. Now he stood in front of Alex with a hand covering his mouth as if to hold all of the emotion of the past months inside him, where they couldn’t escape out into the world because if they did, their force would be too strong for the world to survive and something would explode with the ferocity of a splitting atom.
“Danny?” Alex said.
Danny began to cry even before Alex embraced him.
Pampuria meowed fretfully.
“Danny….”
Alex could feel Danny’s hot tears as the rolled down his cheeks, soaking the shoulder of his MI6-issued safehouse T-shirt. His chest heaved up and down with the inability to control his emotion.
Finally, Alex found Danny’s lips and kissed him. He poured all of his soul into it and held back none of his feelings. It had been so long.
Q had to grab some tissues because both men were a sobbing mess. Even Bond had a tear in his eye.
“I went to your flat,” Danny whispered. “And you were gone.”
“I know,” Alex said, embracing Danny tighter.
“I thought you were dead,” Danny cried.
“I’m so sorry. I had the feeling they were going to make a move against me. I knew too much, even too much for MI5. When I wouldn’t cooperate with them, they faked my death and brought me to America.”
“They lied to me,” Danny complained.
“They did, but you found the clue I left for you,” Alex said, leaning back and cupping Danny’s face with both hands. “Bond tells me that you figured out the cypher. I knew you were smart enough to figure it out.”
Alex covered Danny’s face with kisses.
“The six zeros and the one. My soul’s one mate.”
“Who knows?” Alex shrugged. “Maybe soulmates do exist after all.”
“You didn’t believe that soulmates existed before,” Danny sobbed.
“I know,” Alex said, because there was nothing else he could say. He knew that the romantic in Danny wanted to believe. Alex’s long ordeal and brush with death had taught him one thing if nothing else and that was if Danny wanted to believe, he should not interfere by pointing out the impossibility of Danny’s hypothesis. The hope that Danny had was enough to get Alex transported to London immediately after his rescue, instead of languishing in the American court system that the FBI was beholden to follow the strict rules that they employed.
“Before things get too intense,” Bond said. “I hope you two understand that we can’t leave you alone here.”
Alex’s mouth fell open.
Danny said, “You mean like for a more intimate reunion?”
Alex felt his face get hot when he realized Bond was talking about sex. Did that man ever think of anything else? Alex supposed he was fortunate that Bond propositioned him all those months ago when Danny had urged him to explore his sexuality with different partners. Those were still in the early days of Danny and Alex’s relationship. Of the few different beds Alex tried during that time, Bond’s was definitely the most memorable and satisfying—next to Danny’s, of course.
“There will be time for that soon,” Alex said, resting his hand on Danny’s chest.
“And we only have about an hour,” Bond said, checking his Omega.
“And the pizza is getting cold,” Q added, nodding at the boxes he had set down on the small counter in the kitchenette. Turing leaped onto the counter as soon as Q opened the first box. “With all these kidnappings taking place, I don’t want to be the one to explain to M that Bond took Alex from a MI6 safehouse.”
“All these kidnappings?” Danny asked. “I know about mine and Alex’s, but were there others?”
Q held his cast up.
“Oh, you didn’t tell me that before,” Danny said. “And that’s how you were hurt?”
“I put up a bit of a fight,” Q said, taking a slice of pizza from a box.
Alex thought Q sounded a bit proud for his actions. He could only imagine what it would be like to try to fight a man of Q’s build. Alex had lost much of his fitness level while he was held against his will, yet still he thought he could pin Q down in a matter of seconds without too much of a fuss from the MI6 Quartermaster. Foreshadowing, let me show it to you.
“How did you get Alex out of the safehouse to visit me?” Danny asked, grabbing a greasy slice of pizza and folding it in half to eat it. “Not that I’m complaining and not that you have to tell me any more of your top secret stuff.”
“It’s relatively simple matter to stop the security cameras from capturing new images,” Bond said. “And picking locks is the very first thing you’re taught as a MI6 agent.”
Bond looked at the pizza with disdain. Alex imagined that Bond would rather go hungry than eat any food that wasn’t Michelin starred.
Alex chose a slice of pizza from the box and joined Danny on the loveseat.
Bond sat on the floor with his back against the wall. “Why don’t you just bring the boxes over here,” he asked when Q went for another slice. “We haven’t got much time.”
Q took the boxes and waded his way around Pampuria and Turing who were ever curious about the boxes of cheesy pizza that had been brought into their domain.
“Speaking of boxes,” Alex said, “did you get the clue I sent to you? It was carved into the bottom of a small cardboard box.”
“I did!” Danny said. “I have to tell you, it filled me with such hope to know that you were alive somewhere. It made me unstoppable in my search for you… well, on most days.”
“You must have had some dark times during this ordeal,” Q said.
“Some days, I didn’t know whether I would live or die, whether you would find me,” Alex said. “When another entity sought the technology I had developed. MI5 sold me out to them, with no regard for the importance of my research. It was called SPECTRE.”
“Unfortunately, we’re all too familiar with their organization,” Bond said.
“But I knew how important my research was. I told them nothing—not even when they tried to convince me that Q worked for them,” Alex said. “That’s when I took the chance to send you a message.”
Danny hugged Alex and rested his head on his shoulder. “It was worth it, though,” he said.
“I knew it would signal to you that I was alive and still thinking of you,” Alex said. “I trusted you, trusted that your love for me would give you the strength to keep trying to find me.”
“I was so shocked when the box was delivered to Scottie’s house,” Danny said. “How did you ever manage that?”
“Oh, you’ve never met Spencer,” Alex said, only just realizing that Danny had never met his ally. These past days had been a blur of activity with being rescued and brought back to London, then de-briefed by MI6, and held in the safehouse, and now with being reunited with Danny. It was a wonder he could make sense of it all. “Spencer was with the FBI and he had infiltrated my captor’s operation. We became good friends. I put a lot of trust in him and it paid off.”
“The box smelled like the ocean,” Danny said, crinkling his nose up. He was every bit as adorable as Alex remembered. He reached for Danny’s freshly-shaven face and traced his cheek with the back of his knuckles, just because he could.
“I was held on an island in Chesapeake Bay. I could smell the ocean too, when I get some fresh air pumped into my room. And sometimes I thought I could hear seagulls outside. It didn’t surprise me to know I was near the water.”
When they had eaten their fill of pizza, Bond sat on the floor with Q’s head in his lap. They made a nice couple, Alex thought, as he watched Bond card his fingers through Q’s messy curls. Soon enough, he would be able to spend a day doing just such a thing to Danny. It would be a pleasant way to spend their time until they were ready to make love again.
Danny lifted his head from Alex’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry about Frances,” he said. “I meant to say something earlier.”
“Thank you, Danny,” Alex said. “Thank you for being a friend to her when she needed one.”
Danny hugged Alex tighter. “She had your best interests at heart, most of the time,” he said.
“I’m sorry that I’ll never see her again,” Alex said as he gently stroked Danny’s back. “She was like a mother to me, but not really. In some ways she was much more than a mother, but in some ways, she was the worst mother imaginable.”
“It’s complicated,” Danny said. “I understand.”
Bond’s mobile rang, and he said, “Uh,oh, I bet we’re in trouble now. It’s Eve.”
“Bond, where are you?” Eve asked, her voice clear in the quiet of the room.
“I’m somewhere safe,” he said with a wink. “Where are you? What are you wearing?”
“Knock it off, Bond,” Eve said. “There’s been an explosion at Q’s flat. Mallory wants you in his office at 7:00 AM tomorrow morning.
~
Eve showed Bond into Mallory’s office. He was a half-hour early and hadn’t had nearly enough caffeine yet, despite subjecting himself to a cup of Q’s Earl Grey when he dropped him off in Q-Branch before ascending in the lift to meet with Mallory.
“He’s in a conference with Director Wray,” Eve said. “There are more double-ohs on the way.”
“A double-oh convention, then?” Bond asked. “That can’t be good.”
Eve simply smiled and closed the door behind her.
It would be to no avail for Bond to worry about his job security at this point. Even if Mallory knew that he freed Alex from the safehouse for a visit with his lover, he wouldn’t call in the FBI about it, would he?
Maybe he would. The FBI worked hard to secure that asset from his captors. In any case, Bond would know more in about twenty minutes.
After bringing Alex back to the safehouse the night before, Bond drove Q to the site of his former flat. Both Eve and Double-oh Two were there, sifting through the rubble. The fire trucks and police cars had blocked the street off from travel and the area where Q’s flat once stood was an active scene of smoke, fire, and fury.
“Thank goodness, no one was killed,” Q said as he watched the firemen hose down the last of the hot spots.
“I’m so sorry, Q,” Bond said, wrapping Q in a warm embrace.
“I’ll be all right, I think,” Q said, turning to Bond. “Thank God the cats are with Danny. Most of my important projects are in work or in the cloud. I’ll be able to rebuild whatever was lost.”
“But what about all your belongings?” Bond asked. “You had quite the cardigan collection.”
Q waved off Bond’s concern with his neon green cast. “It’s certainly sad, and I’m sure I’ll have many times ahead of me when I’ll mourn the loss of a certain pair of shoes or a favourite book, but those were just things… objects,” he said. “Growing up in the orphanage, I learned to detach myself from most material things. It’s a terrible loss, but it’s not the end of the world.”
Listening to Q’s evaluation of the things he lost in the explosion broke Bond’s heart. He vowed that he would make sure he helped Q re-build his hideous cardigan collection and then some.
“I know it’s small,” Bond said, “but you’re welcome to stay at my flat for as long as you’d like. I’m hardly there, except when I’m back from missions. I can make some room for you.”
“That would be lovely, Bond, just lovely,” Q said with a smile that seemed to forget the tragedy of losing his flat and all his belongings.
Bond was glad that he could offer Q some small measure of comfort on this awful night.
“Good to see you, Bond,” Eve had walked through the smoky haze to approach Bond.
“I’m so sorry, Q,” Eve said. “When the fire is out, I’m sure you’ll be able to salvage some things, although the smoke damage will make most of your possessions unusable.”
“Thanks, Eve,” Q said. “I’m glad you notified us right away. Do they have any idea who did this?”
“Double-oh Two has been working this case for a week now,” Eve said. “I just talked to him and he tells me that all of the explosives that the bomb squad found when they first searched your flat had been deactivated. They’re with forensics now.”
“I suppose they could have missed one,” Q said.
“Unfortunately, that’s all it takes,” Bond said. He noticed Double-oh Two with a few MI5 officials as they talked to the police. Double-oh Two, Tom Ellis, had been with MI6 for more than a decade. Bond liked him well enough. Tall, dark, and Welsh, he barely stood out in the site of destruction since he was clad in his trademark black suit.
“What are they doing here?” Q asked.
“Who? Double-oh Two?” Eve jumped in.
“No,” Q said. “MI5. After what they did to Alex and Danny, I can’t stand the sight of them anymore.”
“Domestic investigation, love,” Eve said. “Shall I get rid of them?”
“Please,” Q said.
Eve left to talk with the crew from MI5. When she did, Double-oh Two trotted over to where Bond and Q watched the scene.
“Hey,” Ellis said. “I’m sorry about your flat, Quartermaster.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Q said. “Any new leads?”
“We’re getting close,” Ellis said. I’m supposed to meet with Mallory tomorrow morning to discuss the investigation after I meet with forensics.”
And that’s how Bond came to be sat beside Ellis in Mallory’s office while they waited for the others to arrive.
The door opened and Eve showed Double-oh Five into Mallory’s office.
“Gentlemen,” Double-oh Five greeted.
Double-oh Five, Corinna Moscatti, was a bear of a woman. Statuesque, and with as much muscle as fat, she once beat Bond in an arm wrestling match at the MI6 Christmas party. He’d stayed away from her as much as possible in the years that followed. She had been on mission in Germany before she was called in to help with the investigation into the gang that kidnapped Danny Holt and killed Frances Turner.
“Corinna,” Bond said with a nod.
“Hello darling,” Ellis made room on the leather sofa for Corinna to be seated.
“I suppose you heard there’s been a break in the investigation on the Holt kidnapping?” she asked, directing her attention to Bond.
Bond sat up straight. “I hadn’t. Do tell,” Bond said. “I’ve been doing my share of work on what happened to his partner.”
Just then, Mallory entered his office, right on time.
The agents stood while Mallory dropped the folder he was carrying onto the top of his desk. He took his seat in the tall leather chair. “Gentlemen, and lady,” he said.
The agents replied their mumbled good mornings before sitting with Mallory.
“Double-oh Three is finishing up our meeting with the FBI. She will be along momentarily. As you might expect, there has been some progress made on the cases you’ve been working.” Mallory said. He opened the folder.
Bond and the other agents listened attentively.
“Double-oh Two has received this report from forensics this morning,” Mallory said.
Ellis nodded in agreement.
“It seems the explosives used in the Quartermaster’s flat were produced in a chemical plant in Prague. The plant operates commercially, and it is owned by one Harom Hladik.”
Bond bristled at the name.
“Does anyone here, besides Double-oh Two, know Harom Hladik?”
Bond responded immediately. “It’s one of Blofeld’s aliases. He used it when he had dealings in Prague.”
“Very good,” Mallory said.
Just then, Eve showed Double-oh Three into Mallory’s office.
“Three,” Mallory said with a nod, “has been meeting with the FBI, regarding the Quartermaster’s kidnapping last month. We just attended a virtual meeting with them, where some new information came to light. Can you summarize for us?”
Double-oh Three, Andrea Wilsher, a communications specialist with severely short hair and the best scores of any double-oh on the target range, nodded to the other double-ohs.
“The recordings that the Quartermaster made while he was held have been located, in the U.S.” Wilsher said. “They were analysed by the FBI, who M and I just conferenced with because they were used to attempt to coerce Alex Turner into divulging critical information about his truth-telling research to his captors. By now, we all should know that Turner’s captors were part of SPECTRE, which, according to the men the FBI took into custody when Turner was freed, is still headed by Ernst Stavro Blofeld.”
Bond wasn’t surprised to learn that SPECTRE had its hand in the technology behind Turner’s research. And Q had insisted all along that his kidnappers were using him to get information from a third party, something that Turner had confirmed himself when he met Q the night before.
“But Blofeld is in prison,” Bond interjected. “How can he continue to lead SPECTRE when he is incarcerated?”
“But, wait,” Mallory said. “There’s more. Five?”
“It appears that the gang who kidnapped Holt and killed Frances Turner were part of an operation headed by one William Marston,” Moscatti said.
“I’ve heard that name before,’ Ellis said.
“It’s from the report on SPECTRE,” Bond said, remembering all too well every name on the list of operatives that he met in Italy on a trip that ended with the Aston Martin in the Tiber.
“He was one of Blofeld’s accomplices,” Wilsher said.
“He was one of many, that were never brought to justice,” Bond added.
Just then, Mallory pulled another report from his folder. “It seems like he was involved in SPECTRE’s quest for information from Turner.”
“That’s why Danny Holt was kidnapped?” Bond asked.
“He was to be used as a pawn to get Turner to cave,” Wilsher said. “Just like they planned to do with Q.”
“And Frances showed up to help Danny, as expected,” Ellis said.
“Yes, and she was killed,” Mallory said. “Even more disturbing is the fact that Marston seems to appreciate the power of Turner’s research and he planned to use some of its mind-altering aspects to get Turner to divulge more information that provided to key to using it.”
“Marston is a gang lord,” Moscatti said. “He’s surely not capable of using high-level technology like that.”
“He has an accomplice,” Bond said. He didn’t like where this was going.
“SPECTRE,” Ellis said.
“Ernst Stavro Blofeld,” Moscatti said.
“But Blofeld is in prison,” Wilsher said, “How can he still be running SPECTRE?”
~
“It’s me, Daniel Quilp,” Q said. That morning, he had called to give Danny the good news that he could return to his beautiful home on Hampstead Heath. Q had planned to use his lunch hour to collect Pampuria and Turing. He’d bring them to his office in Q-Branch, which was a little more like a home to them than a safehouse. He could hear Danny moving around inside the small studio flat.
“Daniel Quilp?” Danny said, “Come right in.”
“I didn’t know if you still expected us to use the code names,” Q said with a laugh. “You’re a free man, now.”
“From now on, I’ll be Daniel, and you can be Q,” Danny said. “But you can call me Danny.”
“That will be fine with us,” Q said, giving Danny a warm hug.
“Us?” Danny asked, looking to see if anyone stood behind Q. “Is Bond with you?”
“No, he had business back at Six. It seems like they’re ready to solve the mystery of our kidnappings,” Q said.
Pampuria stretched on the loveseat. She looked like she had just awoken from a catnap.
“Yes, Miss Moneypenny called me this morning to bring me up to speed,” Danny said. “I’m so sorry to hear about your flat. If there’s anything I can do, I mean, if you need a place to stay, I have that big house with more rooms than I know what to do with.”
“That’s very kind of you, Danny,” Q said. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I decide to take you up on the offer.”
“Well, make yourself at home here, for a few minutes at least,” Danny said. “I’m sure you know, but according to Moneypenny, it seems like the case has blown wide open.”
“That’s true,” Q said, bending down to pet Turing. He was surprised that Danny seemed like a close friend to him, although they had only met the night before. He already knew so much about him. And they shared the love of his cats. He hoped he wasn’t presumptuous when it came to sharing more information about their respective cases with him. “Sadly, we think that one man is behind the whole thing.”
“Blofeld,” Danny said. “I heard. He’s the same guy who wreaked all kinds of havoc for Bond last year.”
“He’s in prison now, but apparently he’s still managing SPECTRE operations somehow. Sadly enough, Bond was a sort of foster brother to him. Blofeld’s father took Bond in when his parents were killed,” Q said.
“Ugh,” Danny grumbled. “I know a thing or two about shitty family relations.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Q said. “But now you can start your own family with Alex,” Q said brightly.
“I can’t wait. Can I offer you a cuppa? I was just getting ready to make one myself,” Danny said.
“That would be lovely,” Q said. “I didn’t get much sleep last night and I could use another dose of caffeine.”
“I’ve been tidying up the flat,” Danny said as he set the pot to boil. “Not that there’s much for me to pack to bring home. I hardly have anything of mine here.”
“You must be looking forward to getting home,” Q said. He made himself comfortable on the loveseat while Danny fixed their tea.
“Yes, and I hope Alex will be willing to move there with me when he’s cleared by MI6,” Danny said.
“You must have missed him terribly,” Q said.
Danny brought the Styrofoam cups of tea over to the loveseat and sat beside Q.
“Our lives were so simple. One minute we had plans to go away for the weekend, the next, he was dead, killed by MI5, or so I thought,” Danny said. “They’re still trying to figure who at MI5 let SPECTRE take him. Until they figure that out, I think Alex will have to stay under lock and key.”
“Sometimes, it’s simply a matter of offering the right bribe at the right time,” Q said, taking a sip of tea.
“Some people will do anything to get what they want, no matter how many people they hurt along the way,” Danny said.
“And without regard for the consequences,” Q said.
“Such fancy talk,” Danny said. “You didn’t grow up in East London, did you?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Q said with a laugh. “I must sound like a pretentious arse to you.”
“Think nothing of it,” Danny said. “I like you just the way you are. You remind me of Alex with his fancy grown-up talk.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” Q said.
“It is,” Danny said, reaching out to pet Pampuria who had settled on the arm of the loveseat. “I hope that we’ll be able to be good friends when this is all over.”
“Me too,” Q said.
The thought that he and Bond could be friends with Danny and Alex made Q feel warm all over. Q didn’t have much time for friends since he spent long hours at MI6. The only people he socialized with outside of work were the same people from work, Moneypenny, R, Tanner, sometimes Bond and the other double-ohs.
It would be amazing to learn some things from Alex, who was purportedly one of the most brilliant minds in all of Britain. And Danny seemed like he’d be a lot of fun to hang out with. Perhaps he’d make Q relax and not be so uptight about things that were beyond his control.
“How long have you and Bond been together?” Danny asked, sipping his tea.
“Not very long,” Q said with a smile.
“He’s quite a catch,” Danny said.
“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Q asked. He could hardly believe his words. When had Q ever dished about a hot double-oh with a complete stranger? It felt good.
“And, hey, thanks for helping me look good for when he brought Alex by,” Danny said.
“You would have looked good to Alex if you were wearing rags and sporting three days of stubble,” Q said.
“Did you know he was going to bring Alex to me?” Danny asked, his eyes glittering with joy.
“I didn’t,” Q said. “I was as surprised as you were.”
Pampuria’s ears suddenly went back.
Danny and Q were startled to hear a beep as the door of the safehouse flat opened and a woman stepped inside.
“Excuse me,” Danny said. “I think you have the wrong room.”
“Oh, no,” Barbara said. “if there’s anything I know, it’s my room numbers. It’s you two who don’t belong here.”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Q said. “I’m here to pick up my cats, but Danny has this room until this evening at the earliest.”
“If I may,” Danny began. “Actually, I told Eve that I’d be out by noon. But then you called and said you would come by for the cats during your lunch, so here we are.”
Q looked Barbara up and down. “Aren’t you the waitress from Le Papillon?”
“I used to be,” Barbara said. “I got a promotion.”
At first, Q assumed the promotion was to the position of housekeeper for the hotel chain, but then it dawned on him that Barbara was the MI6 safehouse caretaker. It was a strange thought, but it seemed to fit.
“Miss, I’m pretty sure that we are not supposed to be here at the same time as you,” Q said.
“You can call me Barbara, Barbara Bradford. Don’t you remember me from Ingmar’s restaurant?”
Barbara wandered into the loo. Q could hear her opening and closing the cabinets and the drawers.
Danny shrugged at Q.
“I do,” Q said, eyeing Danny. He was at a loss for what to say. He assured Danny, saying, “This usually doesn’t work this way.”
“Well, Barbara,” Danny said. “You’ll be happy to know that I tidied up a bit for you. There shouldn’t be too much for you to do. In fact, Mr… er… Quilp and I were just leaving.”
“On the contrary,” Barbara said. She marched into the living area with her hands on her hips. “You used nearly every article of clothing while you were here. And all the toiletries. Those things cost money to replace, you know.”
“Okay,” Danny said holding his hands up in surrender. “Next time, I’ll be more conscientious.”
“See that you do,” Barbara said, wandering about the flat. Suddenly, she shouted, “Oh my God!”
“What?” Danny asked.
“Oh my God!”
“What is it?” Q asked, rushing to Barbara’s side. There was nothing to see, except Pampuria twining around her feet.
“It’s her,” Barbara said.
Q didn’t see anyone. “Who?” he asked.
“This is my boyfriend’s cat,” Barbara said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Danny said. “This is Q… uh… Mr. Quilp’s cat. I’ve been looking after it for him.”
“Nonsense!” Barbara yelled.
Danny tilted his head toward Q and whispered conspiratorially, “You didn’t steal the cat, did you?”
“Of course not,” Q said. “Pampuria was given to me by a close friend.”
“Believe me,” Barbara said. “I know my cat breeds better than anyone. This is a silver shaded Persian. By the look of her head shape, she’s most likely from Wyndecreste Persians in London. I’d guess that her dam was Wyndecreste’s Sweet Pea, who had three litters of four, each of which went on to become Cat Fanciers’ Association Grand Champions. Her sire was definitely Wyndecreste’s Silver Snow, which I can tell because of the shading on the tips of this cat’s ears. I know this is my boyfriend’s cat!”
“This is impossible,” Q said throwing his hands in the air.
“Look,” Danny said. “Q… eh… Mr. Q… has had this cat for a long time. How long has your boyfriend’s cat been missing?”
The room suddenly went quiet.
Barbara stammered, “I… I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
“Here’s my mobile,” Danny said, handing it off to Barbara. “Give him a call and we’ll find out.”
“I have my own mobile, thank you very much,” Barbara said. “But I can’t call him.”
“Well, why not?” Q asked.
“I’ll show you pictures of his cat. He sent them to me. I scanned them in,” Barbara said, reaching into her pocket for her mobile.
“You scanned them in? Why? You’ve never seen the cat in person?” Danny asked.
“He sent me photographs of his cat in the mail,” Barbara said.
“That’s weird. How long has this fellow been your boyfriend?” Danny asked.
Barbara scrolled through the photos until she found the images of the cat. “Here she is.”
Q took the phone from Barbara and examined the photos of the cat. His jaw nearly dropped. Pampuria resembled Barbara’s boyfriend’s missing cat even more than Q resembled Danny. Q handed the phone to Danny so he could have a look.
“Where is your boyfriend now?” Danny asked, glancing at the photos before focusing his eyes on Barbara.
“I can’t tell you… We write to each other. He’s more like a pen pal sort of boyfriend,” Barbara said.
Q briefly wondered how they had sex, but Danny’s level head prevailed.
“Where has he gone, that you can’t call him?” Danny persisted.
“He’s a good person, I swear,” Barbara said. “He got into some trouble with parking tickets and he….” Barbara began to weep.
“He’s in jail, isn’t he?” Danny asked.
Barbara nodded her head.
“He writes you letters from jail, does he?” Danny asked. “As part of a prisoner pen pal scheme I suppose? Q, Pampuria was Blofeld’s cat. This is how Blofeld is directing operations for SPECTRE. And Barbara is his accomplice.”
Q clapped Danny on the back. He could kiss him right now. “I’m calling Mallory,” Q said.
“I’ve said too much,” Barbara said, all flustered. She ran for the door, but Danny stopped her.
“Moneypenny, put me through directly to M,” Q barked into his mobile.
“No!” Barbara yelled. “You have no right to keep me here!”
Q waited for Mallory to pick up, but he couldn’t hear from all the commotion with Barbara punching and kicking Danny as he tried to prevent her escape.
“You can’t stop me from leaving!” Barbara shouted.
Barbara landed one good kick to Danny’s balls and he collapsed to the floor. Q dropped the mobile and rushed to help him.
“Don’t let her get away!” Danny cried out.
Barbara struggled with the door handle and Q used the best weapon he had.
It wasn’t his right fist.
He raised his left hand and brought the bright green cast down on Barbara’s head. A sickening crack pierced the air before Barbara fell to the ground with a thud.
~
