Chapter 3: Just Some Hacking
This had to be Q's favourite. He might change his mind the next time, or the time after that (as he tended to do, all the time, actually), but it definitely was his favourite, right now, having James move above him, inside him, all moans and gasps and quiet murmurs and kisses – god, the kisses – slick, teasing, deep kisses that felt at least as intimate as the cock thrusting into his arse.
James was in full seductive lover mode, giving Q exactly what he needed. Being taken care of and taken apart, only having to desperately cling and pull and have; being able to feel to his core that the upcoming mission would go well and James would come back. Back to him, back home.
That was why Q could never decide what kind of sex he loved best. James could read him like an open book and responded to Q's needs at any given time, revelling in the resonance of pleasure between them.
God, but James was a proficient lover. And, right now, what he was even better at than fucking was kissing. Twining their tongues, coaxing Q to play and gasp and whimper. Capturing, nipping and biting those absurdly rosy lips, making sure that Q would feel the gentle throb for a long time, afterwards.
James made Q come with a strangled sob and tight arms around James' neck, before he sped up and followed him with a heartfelt groan and the image of hazy blue eyes and a loving and fucked-out face.
He collapsed on his lover and buried his face in the crook of his neck, breathing hard.
Q kissed his temple. "James…" he whispered, all he could still process.
James kissed along his neck, cheek and, finally, mouth, though it was more a brush of lips against skin. "Beautiful," he said onto the lips. "You're so beautiful." He smoothed Q's hair off his sweaty forehead with both hands, again and again, just staring at this amazingly talented young man who really had no business loving someone as old and damaged as he was.
The soft look on Q's face turned into a soft frown. "James?"
James just shook his head and grinned. "Just thinking that I'm stupidly lucky."
Q smiled a lopsided smile and laid a hand on one of James' cheeks. "Considering how you manage time and time again to get out of the most ludicrous situations in the field, I'm inclined to believe that you must have the devil's own luck, at least."
James couldn't but agree. "Must be." Though he currently wasn't thinking of the job.
Q read him right, of course (it wasn't as hard, this time, as it sometimes could be), and his smile softened. "I love you so much."
James leaned down and kissed him, once, briefly. "Love you too." He lifted his head. "To work, Q?"
Q nodded, slowly and stole another kiss. "To work, 007."
And, even after two years of James-and-Des and almost three of Bond-and-Q, the glint of joy in their eyes when it came to their job was still there, in spite of the worry.
Their smiles turned into smirks, their bodies leaving the hazy state and getting ready, and their last kiss before getting up was decidedly and deliciously dirty (with daring tongues, loud, deep, harsh and accompanied by throaty laughs).
One and a half days later, Q was having an startling epiphany while watching Bond via a casino's security feed and listening to him via earpiece, with only Moneypenny to keep him company, since it was late at night (both in London and Vienna), and the mission was not at a critical juncture (not that those ever came as expected), and, apparently, they were both idiots.
Bond was talking to some gorgeous daughter of the target. Nothing he hadn't done countless times, and both Q and Moneypenny expected it to go as it had countless times.
And then it didn't.
"I'm married," came Bond's voice over the comm.
Moneypenny just grinned, amused (being much more surprised than she wanted to let Q see).
"Something you would like to tell me, Quinny?"
Q would have rolled his eyes, but his mind was busy processing the sudden realisation that he couldn't pinpoint when exactly the last time had been that Bond had taken someone to bed during a mission. It was just something that Bond did. It was even something that they talked about, afterwards. It was… Q blinked. It had been more than half a year since Bond had last done it.
He went through his (always accurate) mental calendar and blinked. Bond's exploits had already started lessening before that point seven months ago. Q had never even noticed the changes.
"Q?" asked Moneypenny, and Q quickly shushed her, pretending to listen to the conversation between Bond and the woman.
They soon both realised what Bond's reason for saying he was married was when he added the little titbit that he was married to a man.
"Oh, that's clever," Moneypenny sounded genuinely impressed.
Q nodded absently. The file on the woman showed that she had a brother who had been killed (together with his male lover) by their father in a fit of rage.
Yes, yes, yes. Very clever. Whatever! That didn't change the fact that the statement that had startled him still rang much truer than Q had been aware of.
Bond was now showing the woman his phone with (so Q and Moneypenny assumed) an image of Q that brought her near tears.
"Oh, no, he didn't," growled Q.
"He is lovely, Mister Bond."
Eve snorted a laugh, trying unsuccessfully to hold it back. "You are lovely, Quinny."
Professionalism be damned, Q clinked himself into Bond's earpiece. "If you showed her what I think you just showed her, I'll make every single gadget explode in your face when you try to use them!"
Moneypenny laughed, and Bond – who by now was leading the woman out of the casino – passed by the security camera he knew Q must have been using to get the best angle and winked at it with a tiny smirk.
Q huffed but switched the connection to input only, again.
"Come on," Moneypenny said, bumping him with her shoulder. "Can't be that bad, can it?"
It wasn't. "That's not the point," Q complained. "It's private."
Moneypenny tilted her head. "He did call you his husband, though. That must make up for some of it…?" her drifted off at the end, making it clear that it was more of an insinuation than a question.
This time, Q did roll his eyes. "We're not married, Eve."
"Hm." Moneypenny leaned against Q's work bench. "And since your hubby isn't here…"
"Oh, god." He had the feeling he would be hearing that a lot in the near future.
"… it's up to me to tell you to go and get some sleep."
Well, he was rather tired, by now.
"At least a kip on the couch in your office?"
Q sighed. "Yes, alright. You?"
"I'll be back later. Can't miss the grand finale, can I?"
They smiled at each other for a moment, she kissed him on the cheek and then left him to his thoughts.
He didn't stay long, after that. He waited for just long enough to ensure that Bond was in no immediate danger, and the woman really only offered him a room to sleep in and not a room full of murderous lackeys.
Still… he went to his office wearing an earpiece and lay on the couch.
"Good night, James."
He fell asleep listening to James' breaths.
The mission hadn't gone as bad, considering. Bond had still managed to somehow lose enough blood that he couldn't just skip medical, this time.
Q found him lying in a bed, only half awake. They were alone, and Q had made sure before coming in that they would have their privacy from the cameras.
James blinked his eyes open, turned his head and grumbled, disgruntled.
Q just smiled and approached the bed. "They'll let you leave by morning if you're good."
James looked particularly put out. He hated medical. "I'd still much rather be at home."
Q sat on the edge of his bed. "I couldn't have dropped by, there. Busy."
"And I don't even warrant a kiss?"
Of course he did. Just a little one, though. Q sighed against his lips.
"You'll be fine."
"I know that. I'm always fine. Eventually."
Q just sat there, running his hand through James' short hair and over his cheek and neck and back again.
James was on the verge of falling asleep.
James hummed and opened his eyes.
Q hesitated. This was… awkward. Much more awkward than it was to talk about trysts that did happen.
"When did you stop sleeping with women on missions?"
James shifted a bit on his bed. He wasn't uncomfortable, per se, but perhaps bracing himself.
"I'm sure you've figured out the time frame."
Of course Q had. "Why did you stop?" His hand wandered down to lie on James' chest.
"The commitment becoming too much for you?" He wasn't serious. He was… evading. And Q knew that.
"Don't be ridiculous, James."
"I just want to know…" Q continued, "… if it was because you thought that's what I wanted, or because you just didn't feel like it, anymore."
James pondered that for a moment. "Did you like it? When you realised it?"
Q averted his eyes for a second, hiding his smile and cleared his throat. "Well… it was… flattering, I suppose."
"But it's not something I require of you," Q added. "If you want some form of contact during missions, that is alright."
"I stopped because I didn't feel like it anymore."
They were silent for a long moment.
"Okay," Q said.
They were silent some more.
"But if you ever do feel like it," Q continued, "I want you to know that it's fine. It's all fine."
James laid a hand over Q's on his chest and just breathed in and out, enjoying the weight of their connection.
"It would have been easy, this time," he said.
Q knew that. He'd been watching. That's why both he and Eve had thought that it was a foregone conclusion.
"She would have welcomed some contact. Perhaps even needed it."
Q waited for him to continue.
"She needed to feel something, so I gave her something."
Q smiled ruefully. "You showed her the picture of me you took that one morning where I was only half awake, didn't you?"
James grinned a bit. "I'm attached to that picture." Then he sighed. "She would have needed all my attention, and I wasn't sure I could give her that."
Q understood. At least he was pretty sure he did.
He stayed with James until he fell asleep.
No, no. This was now definitely his favourite. (Never mind that he'd thought the same thing three days ago when he and James after two weeks of work upon work after that visit in medical had managed to get an undisturbed minute in Q's office, and Q had sat his agent on the desk and screwed him silly.)
James for his part didn't care about favourites. He was torn between throwing his head back with closed eyes while Des was riding him into oblivion… and keeping his eyes wide open to see the vision above him.
For now he managed to keep his eyes on Des, but he knew it would be only a matter of time before his little minx drove all awareness straight out of him.
Des was leaning forward with his hands on James' shoulders, his thighs shaking, but James wanted more, wanted to see his lover come apart as seamlessly as he was, so he reached for those hands, twined their fingers and pushed Des upright, letting him brace himself on his arms.
Des moaned loudly, the different angle now doing all the things to him he didn't have the words for, anymore. (Yes, definitely the favourite.)
"Oh, oh, oh… I…"
"That's it," James encouraged, starting to move with Des and thrust his hips upwards. "That's it. You." He gasped. "You."
He watched Des' chest move rapidly with every gasp, moan and sob.
"Yes." There were tears in Des' eyes, now, both of them staring at each other with more devotion than should have fit into two mere mortals.
"Can you come like this?"
Des' fingers clenched around James'. "I…" He didn't know. He felt like he might, might… no, just… He didn't want hands, he wanted…
James lowered his arms and pulled Des close to his body, the angle now less desperate, but Des' dick captured between their slick stomachs. He slung both arms around the slim body lying on him, held him tight and felt him go limp. He braced his feet on the bed and thrust into the wonderfully greedy body.
Des was shaking, his whole body overcome by sensation. The pressure on his prostate had lessened, the friction against his dick taking over, and all he could do was whimper into James' neck.
"James, James, James… Please!"
James thrust upwards faster, going deeper and moving his abs against Des' straining and leaking erection.
Des came with a loud shout that ended in whimpers bursting out of him with every rapid breath.
When one such whimper turned into, "James," James spilled into the willing tightness, surprised by the suddenness of it, leaving him completely undone.
"I love you," Des breathed.
James just shook his head, incredulous. "Such an amazing creature."
Des giggled, giddy and buzzing and blissful… and turned his head to see if he could taste those feelings on James' tongue. He could. Just like always.
Eventually, Des propped himself up on his forearms, just breathing and smiling at James.
"Let me guess," James said in mock contemplation. "Favourite?"
Des burst out laughing, making James slip out of him, and James joined his laughter after a second.
"It amazes me how you can still find new favourites for me," he said, grinning.
"I think this one's an old favourite."
Des tilted his head. True, that. He smirked and leaned in for a small kiss before murmuring onto James' lips.
"There's something to be said for old favourites…"
"Cheeky little shit," James grumbled, grabbed Des and spun him onto his back, leaning over him and making him laugh.
They kissed for a long moment, before James pulled back to simply look at his beautiful young lover.
Des ran soft, lazy fingers over James' cheek. "Are you over your crisis, then, love?" He very consciously added the endearment (not really one either of them indulged in; their names were more than endearing enough, thank you).
James looked surprised, or at least tried to. "What crisis?"
Des rolled his eyes. "The 003 crisis." The crisis that had James have doubts about deserving a lover like Des, only a few weeks back.
James' expression turned sour.
"Didn't think I'd notice, did you?"
"There was no crisis," James protested
Des thought that frankness would probably get this matter behind them the fastest.
"You thought that me having to deal with a new and younger model of 00 agent would make me realise that you're outdated."
James tried to scowl at him, but the uncertainty was still there.
Des sighed and his eyes softened. "You bloody idiot," he said, lovingly. "Hang on…" he said and grabbed for his glasses on the nightstand. "I need to see you properly for this."
Des made James sit and placed himself in front of him.
"First off," Des started with a lingering look along James' naked form, "his physique doesn't even come close to yours; he moves with all the grace of a lumberjack and has the charm of a toaster; and while he obviously is a very efficient killing machine, I do prefer my lovers to have more of a personality than the weapons I make for them." He firmly held James' eyes with his. "And most importantly. He is not you."
James said nothing, just marvelled at Des for a bit.
"Don't mistake me for the kid you thought I was when we first met."
"No," James said, instantly. "You're one of the most strong-willed and decisive people I have ever met."
"And perfectly capable of making my own decisions," Des couldn't help add.
"I am well aware," James agreed. "I apologise."
Des smirked. "You don't have to apologise to me. You're the one feeling insecure."
Des just laughed and framed his face, pulling him into a smiling kiss. Afterwards, he just studied him for a moment before coming to a decision.
"Hm. I might have something for you," he said, standing and walking to his cupboard, rummaging around in his clothes on the upper shelf, looking for something he'd hidden behind them. "I was going to wait for the right moment, but, well…" he turned around looking at James. "Timing sometimes is overrated." He grinned and threw something at James that he promptly caught.
James held the box in hand without opening it. It was hardly necessary.
Des sauntered back to the bed. "Should you accept my proposal, there's still the question of whether or not you'd want to wear it outside of the flat. There are pros and cons, of course, and in the end, it would be up to you." He flopped down to sit in his previous spot.
"And there's a transmitter in both of them."
At that, James actually flipped the box open. "You put a radio in our wedding rings?"
Des smirked a little smirk.
James returned it. "How romantic."
"What do you say?" Des asked, though he had no doubt whatsoever what the answer would be.
James leaned a little closer. "You know, you haven't actually proposed…"
Des leaned closer as well. "I made the rings; I'm not bloody well getting down on a knee."
James stole a kiss. "You're a menace," he growled lowly.
"Is that a Yes?"
James grinned, ruefully, his eyes alight with humour. "There's only ever been one answer when it came to you."
Des grinned back. "And that was a Yes." It wasn't a question.
"Of course it bloody was."
The only acceptable answer to that was, of course, another kiss.
"So…" Des leaned back a bit. "Do you actually want a ceremony, or should I just hack into the registry?"
James didn't reply with the 'I love you' that was on the tip of his tongue, but the laugh that burst out of him spelled it out just as clearly.
Still chuckling, he put the box on the bedside table, let himself fall back onto the bed and pulled Des half on top of him.
"I have to admit a particular fondness for watching your clever fingers at work."
Des smirked. He had hoped James would go for that option. "Hacking, then?"
"Hm…" James hummed and licked Des' lips with his tongue who caught and sucked at it for a bit.
"Here's what we'll do, quartermaster. At the first chance we get, we'll check into a suite of a ridiculously overpriced hotel; we'll be wearing tuxedos, and you will bring your laptop."
Des laughed more or less silently but didn't comment.
"And then you will get us married without the interference of some bureaucrat, after which we will spend the night fucking each other into oblivion. Any additional input?"
"Excellent plan of action, 007. Not sure the tuxedos are necessary, though, seeing as we'll be rid of them before long."
"Always wanted to see you in a tuxedo."
"Hmm," Des hummed. "I supposed I could make an exception for you. On that particular occasion."
James spent a long minute just looking at Des, again. It was something that he had taken up doing a while back (initially mostly when the other man was asleep), and eventually, Des had even stopped giving him odd looks and just indulged him. Like now. It appeared he was just as happy looking back.
"Fuck me, we're getting married."
Des grinned. "So it would seem."
James pulled off Des' glasses and put them aside, before running his hands through his hair and pulling him into a kiss.
"Motherfucking bloody cock-up!" Des was swearing at his mirror.
Chuckling, James walked around the corner, and Des turned to look at him.
"Oh, this is just perfect!" Des complained. "You look fucking… devastating, and I look like…" he turned towards the mirror, again, "… like a knob."
James grinned and walked up behind him. "You do have a lovely knob, but you don't look like one."
"I look like I'm playing dress-up." He was seriously getting frustrated with this shit, the unbound bow tie now hanging from limb fingers. "I should have just got a clip-on."
James huffed and snatched the bow out of Des' hands. "I'm not marrying anyone wearing a clip-on."
He put the band in position, reached around Des' neck and quickly tied a perfect bow.
"There." He turned down the collar of the dress shirt. "Devastating." He smiled at Des in the mirror and kissed the side of his neck.
"I still think I look silly."
James sidled even closer, and ran his hands up and down the meticulously tailored waist.
"You have no idea just how bloody gorgeous you look right now," he murmured straight into Des' ear, the warm breath and words sending tingles down Des' spine.
Des sighed. "I'm thinking maybe I should have worn contacts or at least different glasses…"
"Nonsense. You look perfect."
"I have excellent taste." James cupped Des' chin and turned it towards him so that he could kiss him. "Stop arguing with me; it's our wedding day."
It was. Their short-notice wedding day. There hadn't really been much downtime (not that either of them minded, overtly), and their engagement (such as it was), had been almost a month ago.
They'd both only just got off work in the wee hours of the morning and had managed to go home within minutes of each other and get some sleep.
It was now well into the afternoon, and they wouldn't have to be back in until the next day, so they'd decided to get this show on the road. After all, they didn't need anything other than each other, a laptop, proper attire and an undisturbed night.
They remained in front of that mirror, until Des relaxed into the image they made together.
"Yeah, okay," he finally conceded. "Maybe we do look…"
"Good. We look good together."
James' hands were still warm on Des' sides. "No cold feet?"
Des' soft smile never faltered, and he leaned back. "No. You?"
James considered a whole list of smartarse answers, but in the end, he just settled for, "No."
One more deep breath, and they were off. James with the suitcase with the clothes they'd need to get back to work the next day, Des with the briefcase containing his laptop.
"Interesting choice," murmured Des when they entered the hotel and approached the reception desk.
"It had the kind of room vacant that I wanted. And I've stayed here, before." James strode decisively towards the desk, Des doing his level best to not look out of place.
"Welcome to the Mandarin Oriental. How may I help you?" they were greeted.
"Reservation for Bond."
The woman checked the reservation. "That would be the one bedroom deluxe park suite," she confirmed.
Des was silently impressed that she showed absolutely no outwards reaction to the occupants both being male. Then again, considering the price they paid for this, it would have been stupidly unprofessional of her.
She handed them a key, smiling politely. "Enjoy your stay."
Finally inside their suite and the door closed, Des breathed out. "How you deal this kind of environment all the time is beyond me."
He shook himself and approached the working desk in the suite. This was so much more his area.
James studied the room. He was looking forward to the bathroom that he had every intention of sharing with Des, later.
"You have no appreciation for the finer things in life," he bemoaned.
Des started up his laptop. "It explains you, anyway."
James smacked him on the butt (making Des smirk) and then just remained standing behind him, looking over his shoulder.
"You prepared it?"
"Of course. I do have other plans for today… And there was an annoying amount of forms and documentation to go through."
He turned on the laptop's camera and turned around. "Could you stand by that wall for a moment, please?"
James did as he was asked. "Why?"
Des adjusted the camera. "That's where we'll stand to exchange the rings. I'll be taping it."
James pulled a face. "What for?"
"Because it's my bloody wedding, and I want some sodding wedding pictures. That's why."
Once he was happy with the angle, he turned on the video recording and then opened the program he had prepared in advance to get into the registry.
James just grinned. He didn't really mind. It was… nice to think about having a picture, actually.
"By the way," Des added, already typing, "I'm taking your name. Thought I should mention that."
James frowned, walking back to him. "What's wrong with your name?"
Des stopped typing and looked up. "Aside from the fact that it unnecessarily endangers my family?"
"You already use Q at work. It would take quite some effort to get your real name."
Des raised an eyebrow. "A name that you knew from the start. Your surname is another layer between them and me. Besides, I've been hacked before." He averted his eyes. He did not like to think about that. "I'm taking your name and that's final," he added, returning to his typing.
James held up his hands in mock defeat. Again, it wasn't like he truly minded. On the contrary, now that he was thinking about it. Hm. Interesting.
"Whatever you say, Mister Bond."
Des smirked. "Not quite yet."
James kissed his temple. "I love you."
Des laughed and leaned away. "Just… hold on a minute. I'm almost done." He typed some more.
"Okay…" he handed James an electronic pen and pointed at the touch pad of the laptop. "Sign your name on the pad." He took a step to the side to give him the room to do so.
James took the pen, signed with exactly zero hesitation and gave the pen back.
Des pressed one button and then signed himself.
James grinned. "Did you practise signing this name?"
Des rolled his eyes and gave him an exasperated look. "Once or twice, yes."
James' grin widened.
"No, I never made a heart out of the O."
They kept it together for a grand total of two seconds before they both had to laugh.
James couldn't help leaning in and kissing him, and Des accepted him for a moment, before pushing him back again.
"One moment. Almost done." He cleared his throat and blinked a few times to get his mind on track and back to typing, again. "There." He looked up after less than fifteen seconds. "Would you like to do the honours?"
James scanned the screen. "I just press enter?"
"You just press enter," Des confirmed.
And James did.
"And that's it." They took a moment to breathe. Breathing was important. "Do you have the rings?" It was a silly question; he knew James had the rings.
James pulled them out of his pocket. "We stand over there?"
Des nodded, and they got in position, and… then they felt a bit at a loss.
"Should we just…?" James handed Des the ring to put on him. "Put them on?"
"I don't know. I never did this before." He couldn't help smiling, despite the fish-out-of-water sensation.
James held up Des' ring and studied it. "Anything you want me to promise you with this?"
And then Des knew what he wanted. It was simple, really. "Promise me you'll always try to not get your stupid arse killed."
James grinned, lifted Des' left hand with his and pushed the ring onto the fourth finger. "With this ring I swear to always try to not get my stupid arse killed."
Des felt like giggling madly. In the end, he bit his lip and only snorted. Another deep breath and he held up James' ring. "Any requests?"
James amused expression turned serious for a moment. "Promise you won't give up on me."
Des smiled solemnly and put the ring on the designated finger, his eyes steadily on James'. "I swear I will always find you, and I will always have your back."
Yes, that was it. That was exactly what James had meant. He took both of Des' hands into his own.
Des looked at James' face, then at their hands with the rings, then back at the face.
James grinned a bit. "Quite the effect for a bit of hacking and two rings."
Both their grins widened and matched.
It was a good thing that they were on their own and not at some registrar's office; their kiss was decidedly not one meant for an audience.
Their tongues met before their lips did, both moaning breathily into the kiss, and their hands didn't still for a moment.
When James pulled back enough to speak, he first smirked at Des' spit-slicked lips and dazed expression.
"Ready to find a new favourite?"
Des licked his lips. "I think I'm in the mood for an old favourite."
"Hm. Might we have enough time to revisit several favourites?"
Des leaned in for a deep, hungry, devouring kiss. "We had better." Then he remembered the camera on the laptop.
"Maybe I should turn this off, first." He disentangled himself and walked over to the desk.
James smirked. "You should send Eve a copy. You did add her as a witness, after all…"
Des chuckled, turned off the recording and closed the laptop. "She might like this a bit too much…"
"Oh… Let her have her fun," James chided.
"I might." He had actually thought about it, before. Now, and after that kiss, he wasn't so sure, anymore…
James just sidled next to him and pulled him into his arms. "So, Mister Bond…"
Des held back a snort. This would take some getting used to, even if he hardly ever heard his name, in the first place.
"… What is your favourite of the night?"
Q's eyes flicker to the clock on his monitor. He has been in the lab for less than five minutes. The tiny lip twitch becomes a full-blown smirk. That really hasn't taken long.
No more than five minutes. James is off somewhere getting ready for his debriefing, while Q is waiting for his own orders to get James ready for the job.
Usually, it's an electronic file and not a personal visit, however, and Q has no doubts as to why it is not just a file, today.
No, that's not the surprise, either. What does surprise him, is that it's not Moneypenny. Both he and James had expected that. Q has, after all, sent her that video in the end.
The person he can see approaching his desk in his office via a mirror image on his monitor is not Moneypenny. Apparently, he's warranted a visit from M himself.
Q turns around. "Sir."
"Good morning, Q." M hands him a file. "I expect you'll be able to get this ready in time for after 007's briefing?"
Q doesn't have to open the file. He knows what's in it, more or less.
"Of course." Q is now very curious about M's reaction. There are numerous possibilities, and he's ready to defend his and James' decision if need be. (As, so he knows, is James.)
M clears his throat. "Then I believe congratulations are in order, Mister Bond."
Q's eyes briefly flicker behind M. Yes, the door is closed.
"Thank you, sir."
"I trust that all necessary steps have been taken to minimise the risk of… malicious exploitations of the change in your marital status?"
Q knows what that means. 'Don't get kidnapped. Don't let anyone use either of you against the other. I don't want to have to send someone to kill both of you if it happens.'
Q clears his throat. "We have taken measures a while back."
M nods. He does know about that.
"Some additional steps have been taken to secure the distance between HQ and our home." He squints at his ring. He knows damn well that the ring could be removed during a kidnapping, but he is quite certain that they would be able to activate the distress signal in a second if necessary.
"And there's a… an additional tracker." Hm. Might as well. "One that I feel has interesting possible applications in the field for other agents. We have conducted a series of tests, already."
M grins a bit at Q's enthusiasm. "Your work ethics have never been in question, Q."
Q shrugs one-sided and returns the smile. "I saw no reason not to develop the rings further."
"Indeed." M straightens and readies himself to leave. "Well, after 007's current assignment, I think a holiday would not go amiss."
Q holds back a laugh. "Are you sending us on a honeymoon, sir?"
"Goodness, no. I don't have a single romantic bone in my body. Or so I'm told."
Q does laugh a bit, then.
M turns to leave, and then stops to look back. "By the way… thank you for considering me as a witness for your special occasion along with Miss Moneypenny."
Q blinks. So M has found the marriage license, too, then, not the just the registry entry.
"It was a lovely ceremony," M adds, before leaving a laughing Q to his work.
This is it with this story. Thank you so much for reading and for the comments and kudos. It is much appreciated :)
(I might write some more for this ship, since it's so much fun to play with :3 But I don't know yet.)
Please leave a little comment on the way out. It would make me a very happy writerling indeed :D