THE OVERLORD'S MUG
Pairing: Q/James Bond
About: Five times someone has used, harmed, or tried to do anything to Q's beloved Scrabble mug. And one time someone understood it's value.
Note: My first James Bond fic (I haven't seen Skyfall yet) so most likely OOC.
Warnings: Explicit language, boy/boy kissing, mild violence, references to m/m sex
Disclaimer: James Bond belongs to Ian Fleming and various other people/publishers/studios. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.
Nobody knew where the Q mug had come from; maybe Q had purchased it when he'd been made Quartermaster; maybe somebody close to him had gifted it to the young man. Whatever it's origins, everybody knew that Q's Scrabble mug was special, important, protected. And if someone didn't know, they learned quickly enough.
A new intern in Q-Branch was the first to show everyone just how important the Quartermaster's mug was.
It was late- or early, depending on how you looked at it- and a few minions were running around Q-Branch while Q himself directed 003 through some back alleys in Shanghai. He was typing faster than should be humanly possible, eyes flicking from computer monitor to computer monitor, bringing up, taking in, and analysing flashes of information that would no doubt save the double-oh's life.
He'd had seven cups of tea since stepping into Q-Branch four hours earlier. The minions kept a close eye on the tea in their Overlord's mug, making sure someone was ready to whisk it away for a re-fill when it became dangerously low. Even the double-oh agents feared the Quartermaster when he ran out of tea.
A new underling- Daniel Triss- was next in line, and quickly grabbed the mug and made a dash for the kitchenette Q had had put in after their last headquarters was blown up. He was tired, nervous, stressed-out, and wasn't really paying attention to what he was doing. He threw something into the mug, followed by some hot water and sugar and milk, and ran back to Q's desk, setting the mug on the edge.
Q didn't even bat an eye in his direction, and Daniel went back to his desk yawning, knowing he wouldn't be leaving for at least another hour. He was just considering making his own cup of coffee when Q shouted, 'What the fuck is this?'
All eyes turned in his direction and Q glared at them all. He was holding his Scrabble mug at arms-length, lips pulled into a snarl.
A few eyes flicked to Daniel, and unfortunately for the new minion, Q caught on.
'You!' he shouted and pointed at Daniel.
'M-Me?' Daniel squeaked.
'What did you put in my mug?' Q asked.
'Um... c-coffee,' Daniel stuttered.
Gasps rang out and minions all looked at Daniel with pity in their eyes. Oh, he was so going to die... or have his life destroyed.
Q stalked towards him dangerously, like some wild animal hunting his prey, and it was a good thing 003 was safe because Q had completely forgotten about the mission.
'You put coffee in my mug?' Q demanded.
'Ah... y-yes, sir,' Daniel said and gulped again.
'Tell me, minion,' Q sniffed, 'when you were hired, what did I, every other minion, M, Miss Moneypenny, and all the double-ohs tell you?'
Daniel glanced around for help, but all eyes darted away from his. 'Um...'
Apparently Q was in no mood to wait and he shouted, 'I DRINK TEA! NOT COFFEE, TEA! EARL GREY TEA IN THIS MUG, YOU INSECT!'
If Q didn't love his mug so much he would have thrown it at the helpless young man. Daniel whimpered weakly and said, 'I'm sorry!'
'Oh you'll be sorry!' Q grinned evilly. 'Because I'm tasking you with cleaning and re-making each and every single piece of equipment that 007 brings back.'
'No!' Daniel practically cried. 'No, please!' Even Q had a hard time piecing together the destroyed remains of 007's equipment.
'Next time you'll remember not to put coffee in my Q mug,' Q snapped and stalked away, muttering under his breath about stupid underlings.
From then on, the minions made sure to tell all newbies to stay away from Q's mug.
'Take the next left.'
The minions sitting around various computers grinned at the banter between their master and his favourite double-oh. M sighed, but by now he was used to the way Q and Bond flirted, even during a mission.
It had been a surprise when M had discovered the Quartermaster and 007 were together. He'd thought Bond knew better than to dip into his own nest, so to speak. And he thought Q knew better than to fall into bed with James Bond.
But somehow, the two had struck up an odd relationship based on teasing, threats, and flirting. They were a good team- a great team- and no matter what kind of trouble 007 got into, his Quartermaster got him out of it.
Despite seeing and hearing the way the two worked together, M had still been shocked to his core when CCTV footage of the two going at it on Q's desk had reached his office. When he'd called Q in to discuss it with him first- because he knew there was no way to talk Bond out of anything- he had been doubly shocked to learn that it had been going on for months. The two were dating; it wasn't a casual fling, an office romance, or "friends with benefits".
It was a real relationship with dates and gifts and flirting and a jealous Bond prowling around Q-Branch warning everyone off his boyfriend.
It was the only reason M hadn't had one of them terminated, or forced them to break-up; their work hadn't suffered at all. If anything, both men worked even harder to ensure the mission was successful; Q to get his partner home, and Bond to come home to his lover.
He didn't like to think about it, and he made sure everyone else knew that it was a special case. If any other double-ohs suddenly decided to start sleeping with Q-Branch members- or "minions" as Q had labeled them- there would be hell to pay.
'007, really, was that necessary?' Q asked, breaking M from his thoughts. He settled his eyes back on the main screen ahead of him, which Q was standing before. There were computers and keyboards before him, and his fingers tapped quickly. Halfway across the world, and projected on the screens, 007 was running through the sub-levels of a office building, being hunted by big men with big guns.
And he'd apparently felt the need to use Q's latest gadget- a novel that's pages were actually explosives- to blow a hole in a wall.
'Well, I didn't see the door opening for me,' Bond responded over falling debris. 'And you know how I hate waiting, sweetheart.'
Q snorted and rolled his eyes as he tapped at the keys beneath his fingertips, no doubt looking for another way to get Bond out now that he'd blown up his escape route.
'Five seconds, 007, and you would have been through that door.'
'And now I'm through a different door,' Bond snarked.
'Bastard,' Q commented.
'Tease,' Bond responded.
'One time and you won't let it go!'
'I'll never let it go!'
'Well guess who'll be waiting when they get home?' Q snapped as the door before Bond clicked open just in time for the double-oh to rush through.
'Now, now, Quartermaster, there's no need for threats,' Bond panted.
'I think now is the perfect time for threats- your next right, stop at 400 metres, and press one of those pages to the brick wall on your left,' Q said. It still amazed M, and everybody else in the room, how Q and Bond could go from flirting to teasing to professional all in the same sentence.
'I like this book; very useful,' Bond said as he ran.
'I thought you might like it,' Q said, a soft smile gracing his features.
'Ha, made you smile.'
'I so did.'
M sighed and rubbed his eyes as another explosion rang through the room, followed by Bond whooping like an over-excited child and jumping through the hole.
'Now that was fun,' the double-oh chuckled.
Q snorted. 'Explosions turn you on; of course they do.'
'They turn you on, too,' Bond said. 'Or have you forgotten how I made you see stars before I left?'
'I need a drink,' M groaned as Q blushed, the minions in the room snickering. One stood up, his job over now that Bond wasn't in the north side of the building.
'Can I get you a coffee, sir?' he asked.
'Please,' M nodded and grabbed the closest mug. There were mugs, bottles, and plastic cups strewn all over the main desk; Q and his minions had been here for hours directing Bond through his latest cock-up, and nobody had bothered stopping to clean up.
'Um...' the minion hesitated and M raised his eyebrows.
'I can't use that mug,' the minion said.
M frowned and glanced down at the white mug. 'Why not?' he demanded.
'That's the Overlord's mug,' the young man stated.
'Overlord...?' M questioned.
The woman sitting closest to them cleared her throat, and when M looked at her she nodded at Q, who was still flirting with Bond while at the same time ordering him to blow up various walls.
'It's just a mug,' M said and handed it to the minion.
'N-No, it's the Quartermaster's mug,' the man said nervously. 'There are other mugs, I'll use one of them.' He grabbed a blue and white striped mug and disappeared, leaving M scowling after him in confusion.
'It's just a mug!' he repeated.
'Why is M yelling about mugs?' Bond asked, his projected voice making all the minions freeze.
Q glanced over his shoulder before turning back to his laptop. 'No idea.'
'I miss all the good parties,' Bond said and Q chuckled.
'We'll have a party when you get back.'
'Will we now?' Bond asked and everyone heard the leer in his voice.
'If you're a good boy,' Q told him. 'Last wall, 007; five metres ahead, to your right, and you'll come out in an alley on the west side.'
'Roger that. Do I get to use the chocolate paste again if I make it out of here with no broken bones?'
M wanted to stick sharp pointy things in his ears as a smirk made Q's lips curl.
'If you're a very, very good boy I might let you use that toy you purchased, too.'
Well, nobody could ever say Q and Bond didn't have an interesting sex life. M just wished he didn't have to hear about it. You'd think being the head of the entire organisation, he could make them stop. But he seriously doubted that.
'Where's my coffee?!' he shouted at no one in particular.
Another explosion rang out and the minions all waited until they heard Bond's voice once more.
'Someone needs to get laid.'
'Mm,' Q hummed. 'Take a left, then cross the street, another left, a right, and Minion 43 has a car waiting for you.'
'Which one's Minion 43?' Bond asked as he ran.
'No idea,' Q shrugged one shoulder. 'You can't expect an Overlord to remember all his pets, can you?'
Bond chuckled as the door behind M opened, revealing the man who'd left to make him coffee.
'Thank God,' M sighed and reached for the white mug.
'Excuse me!' Q shouted, drawing everyone's attention.
'What?' Bond asked, voice sharp.
'M's trying to use my Scrabble mug,' Q scowled and marched over to his minion. The man handed the Q mug over and Q glared at M.
'It's just a mug,' M said and took the blue and white striped one from the minion.
'It's my mug,' Q stated.
'It's Q's mug,' Bond said in agreement.
'It's the Overlord's mug,' the minion repeated.
'Jesus Christ,' M swore and took a large gulp, not caring how hot it was.
'Seriously, find a fuck buddy,' Bond commented.
'Shut up, 007!' M ordered.
'Someone's grouchy,' the blonde hummed but made no more suggestions.
Q snickered as he walked back to his desk to direct Bond the rest of the way home, while the minions all went back to their work.
M turned to the man who'd fetched him a coffee, who was standing in the same spot. 'Sorry,' he said, 'but it's the Quartermaster's mug. And nobody messes with it.'
'Why?' M inquired.
'Even if I knew I wouldn't tell you,' the man shrugged.
M's eyes narrowed. 'Why?' he repeated.
'Because Q is our Overlord,' the man stated and went back to his desk.
'God, you've trained them well,' M said.
Q threw a grin at him and M heard Bond chuckle.
'Seriously, what's so important about that mug?' Tanner asked. He and Moneypenny were waiting in Q's office, Tanner with paperwork, Moneypenny with lunch. They were watching Q, who was shouting at an underling for almost tripping as she delivered the Quartermaster's tea.
'I honestly have no idea,' Moneypenny shrugged. 'He loves it and if anyone messes with it, he takes it personally.'
'I knew he was odd,' Tanner commented, 'but honestly.'
They paused to watch Q dissmiss his duckling, the young woman pouting as she trudged to the corner. Where she stopped. And faced the wall.
Tanner and Moneypenny frowned at each other as Q walked over to them, sipping from his mug.
'Hello,' he said when he stepped into his office. 'How can I help you?'
'What did you do to your minion?' Moneypenny asked.
Minion, Tanner thought with a snort. Seriously, Q ran Q-Branch like his own personal kingdom.
'She almost dropped my mug,' Q said. 'She knew the punishment before she offered to get me tea.'
'And her punishment is standing in the corner?' Tanner asked, while at the same time Moneypenny said, 'Did she really offer?'
A smirk tugged at Q's lips and he quirked an eyebrow as he sipped again from his mug. 'When they agree to work for me, they agree to offer their services.'
'They work for MI6,' Tanner corrected him.
Q waved a dismissive hand and walked to his desk, setting his mug down. 'Moneypants, did you bring me something tasty?'
'Yes,' Moneypenny said and nodded at the bag. 'And it's not on Bond's "Things Q Isn't Allowed To Eat" list.'
'Moneypants!' Q whined, suddenly looking like an over-grown child.
'No, sweetie, I'm not risking Bond's wrath just because you want to skip lunch or gorge yourself on chocolate.'
'But chocolate has milk and... stuff,' Q argued.
Moneypenny rolled her eyes and said, 'No. There's a ham and salad sandwich in there on wholemeal bread, a potato salad, a bottle of water, and one small chocolate bar for dessert.'
'Why do you hate me?' Q pouted.
'You'd be able to eat what you wanted if you hadn't decided to start shagging James Bond,' Moneypenny told him.
'True,' Q agreed and opened the bag. He handed Moneypenny her salad and spaghetti and Moneypenny sat in the chair opposite him. 'Tanner, is there a reason you're here?' Q asked when he'd set his and Moneypenny's lunch out.
Tanner was still staring through the glass walls of Q's office at the minion. She hadn't moved from her corner and the other ducklings were throwing things at her; staples, balled up paper, a calculator.
'Surely that can't be legal,' he commented.
Q raised an eyebrow. 'She knew what she was getting into.'
'I really don't think she did,' Tanner said and put the papers down on the edge of Q's desk. 'Does it say anywhere in their contracts that you care more about a mug than them?'
'Of course it is,' Q grinned slyly. 'I changed it the day I was made Quartermaster. It's not my fault if they don't read their terms of employment thoroughly.'
Moneypenny giggled as she stirred her salad and Q offered Tanner a wide grin.
Tanner sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'I honestly don't know if it was a wise move to promote you to Quartermaster.'
'Probably not,' Q shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich.
You're a menace, Quartermaster,' Tanner commented. 'You rule Q-Branch like a dictator, M's assistant is your best friend, and you've tamed our most dangerous double-oh agent. If I didn't know any better I'd say your next plan is to take over the world.'
'Ah, but maybe I already have,' Q said.
'Definitely,' Moneypenny nodded. 'Getting Bond into bed was his first step.'
'I hear good things!' came Bond's voice before the man in question stepped in. His suit was covered in dust and blood, though it didn't appear to be his own. Q grinned and leapt to his feet, but before he could move Bond held out a hand. 'Stop!
Q froze mid-step, staring at Bond with wide-eyes.
'Have you eaten?' Bond demanded.
'I'm eating now, but you're home,' Q said. 'I can finish later.'
'No,' Bond said and stepped further into the office. 'You're too skinny.'
'James!' Q whined, and if Tanner didn't know him he'd assume the boy was harmless. 'You've been gone a week!'
'You need to eat,' Bond said.
'I'm hungry for something besides food,' Q said and smiled seductively.
Bond groaned, head tipped back, and Moneypenny snorted as she continued eating. Q practically stalked towards his partner.
'Come on, James,' Q said slowly. 'I only just stopped for lunch; I have an hour. If anybody needs me they can text.'
'Q, you need to eat,' Bond repeated, glaring at his partner. But it was half-hearted at most and he opened his arms when Q got closer, letting the younger man mold his body against the agent's larger frame.
'I can eat while working,' Q said and pressed a delicate kiss to Bond's lips. Tanner rolled his eyes. 'I want something else, James.'
Really, Tanner hadn't thought Bond would last this long. He turned his head away as Bond crashed his lips against his Quartermaster's, Q scratching at Bond's dirty jacket as he was tugged from the office.
Before they could leave, though, Q stopped the double-oh and Bond growled.
'Hang on,' Q said and darted over to the other door that opened up to the main room of Q-Branch. He ripped the door open and shouted, 'Minion against the wall!'
The young woman who'd almost dropped Q's mug turned to look at him, as did the other ducklings.
'Time-out is over, go back to work!' Q ordered and the woman rushed back to her desk. 'I'm going out for lunch, you children behave or I won't be happy!'
The minions all nodded and Q was dragged out by the back of his jacket.
'James, stop it!' Q giggled as he and Bond disappeared.
'Does that happen often?' Tanner asked Moneypenny when they were alone.
'More than you want to know,' she smirked.
Tanner sighed and headed for the door. 'I really hope I don't run into them,' he mumbled.
'Oh, it's not that bad,' Moneypenny hummed.
'You're disgusting, Miss Moneypenny.'
'I appreciate beauty, Tanner!' Moneypenny called after him, snickering when Tanner rolled his eyes. Smiling, Moneypenny stood to set Q's mug safely on the table beside the sofa. She would not be held responsible for anything happening to Q's mug while the man himself was being bent over a desk by his boyfriend.
With that happy thought in mind, Moneypenny settled back down to finish her lunch and watch over Q's minions.
Sometimes, though rarely, Q worked with other agents besides the double-ohs. His job consisted of three main things:
1. Outfit all double-ohs for their missions and direct said missions.
2. Protect MI6, including keeping all types of security to the highest possible standard.
3. Work with R & D to create new gadgets and weapons that would help agents in their missions.
Usually it was other Q-Branch employees that outfitted and worked missions with the other agents; the ones that didn't get a double-oh status. But on occasion missions overlapped, or a double-oh wasn't available, or Q's minions were busy running around their little nest, leaving the Quartermaster to lend a hand.
Q didn't mind, really. The other agents weren't as cocky as the double-ohs. Apparently when you were labelled with those three numbers you became a smug sod. Most of them were friendly and professional, always thanking Q for his time, and always bringing his equipment back.
So, yes, Q really didn't mind working with them. What he did mind was two agents tossing his Q mug around like it was a toy!
Q literally saw red as he raced across the farm, drawing his minions' attention as well as that of a certain double-oh agent who'd been hanging around all afternoon. The two agents, who Q recalled were named Harver and Coot, were laughing and joking as they tried to throw the mug higher.
'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!' Q screeched, making Coot fumble.
Thankfully Q lifted the Scrabble mug from the agent's slippery fingers and clutched it to his chest tightly.
'What's wrong?' Harver asked, looking around for the danger.
'YOU WERE PLAYING WITH MY MUG!' Q shouted and Bond quickly made his way over. 'GET OUT, GET OUT, I DON'T WANT YOU ANYWHERE NEAR ME!'
'Q,' Bond tried, only for the Quartermaster to grab him by the jacket.
'Get them out of here, now, or I'll make sure they hit red lights for the rest of their lives!' Q threatened.
Bond blinked at him before a smirk spread across his mouth. 'I love it when you make threats,' he leered and gave Q a quick, dirty kiss.
Q smiled slightly but still had murder in his eyes.
Turning to the two dumbfounded agents, Bond said, 'Alright, you heard the man; out.'
'What?' Coot spluttered.
'You can't be serious!' Harver said.
'We need to be outfitted for our mission!' Coot added.
'Well wait until Q leaves and have one of his children outfit you,' Bond scowled. He grabbed both men by the the arms. 'Q refuses to work with you and that's that.'
The two men shouted protests, saying Q was being ridiculous, but Bond paid them no attention. The minions all watched as Bond threw them out, and Tanner stepped out of the way just in time as they hit the floor of the hallway.
Bond dusted his hands and smiled at Tanner, who asked, 'Do I want to know?'
'No,' Bond shook his head. 'Q will be leaving for an hour.'
'Excuse me?' Tanner asked.
'It's their fault,' Bond shrugged, gesturing at the two men. 'Don't worry, I'll bring the Quartermaster back safe and sound.'
Tanner just rolled his eyes and stepped over the two agents, following Bond into Q-Branch. He spotted Q over by his office clutching his Scrabble mug and mumbling to it.
'You're right,' he sighed. 'I really don't want to know.'
Bond just smirked.
005 was the first double-oh agent to realise the true importance of Q's mug. He was young, cocky, full of his own self-importance, and had taken a shine to the Quartermaster. The minions in Q-Branch had started taking bets, trying to guess what would ultimately lead to 005's downfall. The favourites were;
1. Moneypenny would find out, threaten 005, and 005 would stop hanging around Q-Branch like an over-excited puppy.
2. 005 would find an exploding pen in his pocket and be harmed just enough to make him weary of ever setting foot in Q-Branch.
3. Q would finally snap and either a) kill the agent or b) threaten to destroy the agent's life in his jim-jams while sipping Earl Grey tea.
4. James Bond would literally kill the other double-oh for trying to get what was his.
The last one was the favourite. 007 was a force to be reckoned with; the oldest, the most seasoned, the most dangerous agent MI6 had to offer. And Q's favourite, Q's agent, Q's boyfriend.
Bond was also violently jealous. If anyone showed even a hint of wanting the Quartermaster, they'd find themselves thrown against the wall with a gun pressed to their head. And every time it happened, Q would tisk, say, 'Stop scaring the children', and go about his business with a small smile on his face. So yes, number 4 on the list was the favourite.
So it was a surprise to everyone when it was number 3.
As usual, when 005 returned from his mission, it was with various pieces of equipment, smiling like he was God's gift to Quartermasters, and leaning against Q's desk in the farm. His blonde hair was in disarray, and his brown eyes tracked the Quartermaster as the younger man made his way towards him.
'005,' Q greeted professionally.
'Q, how lovely to see you,' 005 grinned.
Q grunted and adjusted his glasses as he looked down at the tech 005 had placed on the table.
'I brought it back, just for you,' 005 told him and smiled broadly.
'Mm, that's nice,' Q hummed and inspected the various pieces. 005 watched him the entire time, and the minions watched him.
There was whispering, and giggling, and money exchanging hands. 005 thought it odd, but then again the entirety of Q-Branch was odd by definition, so he turned his attention back to the lovely Quartermaster.
'Very good, 005,' Q finally said and the man beamed at him. 'Now, if there was anything else-'
'Oh, there is,' 005 interrupted. Q raised an eyebrow as he reached for his Scrabble mug, which was sitting on the edge of the desk. He took a sip of his cooling tea, eyes not leaving 005's as he set the mug back down.
'Yes?' he finally asked when 005 continued to stare at him.
'Are you busy later?' 005 asked.
The minions closest tisk. No class, really.
'Yes,' Q said.
'You have to take breaks at some point,' 005 smiled. 'I know you didn't get that body sitting before a laptop.'
One of Q's eyebrows went up slowly, and his hazel eyes stated he was in no mood to joke.
'Join me for lunch,' 005 said.
The minions winced. An order, not a question. Tisk, tisk, 005.
'As I said no more than five seconds ago, I'm busy,' Q stated.
'Doing what?' 005 whined.
Whined? WHINED?! No class at all!
'Having lunch with someone else,' Q finally said and turned away.
'007, right?' 005 growled, anger flashing across his handsome features.
Q slowly turned back to face him, eyebrow still cocked. 'Not that that's any of your business, but yes.'
'Well ditch him and have lunch with me,' 005 purred, leaning further over the table. Q took a step back and the minions exchanged glances.
'I said no.'
'Come on, Q,' 005 said and reached across the table. He made to grab Q but the younger man wrenched himself away. The desk jostled between them and there was a knock, a sliding noise, before-
'NO!' the minions all shouted in unison. But it was too late.
Q, and everyone else in Q-Branch, watched wide-eyed as the Overlord's treasured Scrabble mug tipped right off the table and smashed against the concrete floor, sending bits of ceramic and tea in every direction.
Silence descended, the underlings all looking up at their master with various degrees of fear in their eyes. Q was completely still, head bent as he stared with wide-eyes at his mug.
005 looked around, frowning at the silence, but shrugged it off and stood. 'Er... sorry about that,' he said and smiled at Q again. 'So, are you going to join me for lunch, then?'
The minions collectively gasped, effectively creeping the double-oh out. But nothing was as scary as the look Q settled on him. His eyes were dark, lips pursed, fingers curled into fists by his side. 005 took a step back and glanced around nervously.
'I'm sorry,' he repeated, 'but... it was just a mug.'
'Just... a... mug?' Q echoed in a whisper, taking a step towards the agent. 'Just a mug?'
'Yeah,' 005 shrugged.
005, for all his training, didn't see it coming. Suddenly he was on the floor with Q's fingers at his face and neck. He fought the smaller man off as the underlings closest rushed forward, wrapping their arms around their master.
When they got the two apart Q was snarling and shouting about how he was going to absolutely destroy the double-oh, while the agent in question was gasping and touching the deep marks that Q had scratched into his face.
In all the commotion nobody heard the main door to Q-Branch open, but they heard the angry growl.
'What the hell is going on here?'
The two minions holding Q immediately let go and they all backed away. James Bond stalked over to them, blue eyes narrowed, and stopped beside his partner.
'Q?' he questioned.
'This fucker destroyed my mug!' Q shouted. He went for 005 again, but Bond hooked an arm around his waist while 005 launched himself backwards.
'It was an accident!' he swore.
'I will kill you!' Q roared.
'Somebody tell me what the hell happened!' Bond demanded.
A brave duckling quickly explained over Q's shouting and 005's apologies what had happened, and Bond glared at his fellow agent when she was done.
'You,' he growled and pushed Q behind him.
'It was an accident,' 005 insisted.
'Were you flirting with him?' Bond demanded.
005 gulped nervously and backed away, but Bond stalked towards him. 'I... I... that is-'
'Didn't you get the memo?' Bond asked as he reached the other agent. He grabbed 005 by the jacket and shouted, 'Q IS MINE!'
He promptly threw 005 out with promises of bodily harm, destruction, and suggestions to go fuck himself. When he came back Q had his arms wrapped around himself and was staring at his shattered mug.
'Q?' Bond asked gently and reached up, brushing his fingers along the younger man's cheek. 'Are you okay?'
'No,' Q whimpered. 'My mug...'
Bond wrapped an arm around Q and the genius melted into his embrace. The minions quickly got back to work as their Overlord was led to his office, body shaking in Bond's arms.
Nobody knew the importance of the Quartermaster's mug, but they knew that it meant something to the young genius.
And nobody knew what was going to happen now that it was gone.
Moneypenny set a bright red mug before Q, who scowled at it. She had taken over watching Q when Bond had disappeared, and the woman wondered just where the hell he'd gone. Her boyfriend needed him, damn it!
'Come on, don't be like that,' Moneypenny said and wrapped a warm arm around him.
'I don't want it,' Q pouted.
'It's Earl Grey.'
'I. Don't. Want. It,' Q stated angrily.
Sighing, Moneypenny pushed the mug away. 'Okay, fine,' she said. She pursed her lips and glanced at him. 'So... you're never drinking Earl Grey again?'
Q threw her an angry look before slouching down on the sofa. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at the mug, as though it was the bane of his existence. Moneypenny supposed it was, in a way. Ever since Q had been prompted to Quartermaster, he'd used his Q Scrabble mug. Nobody knew it's origins, not even her.
All she knew was that it was- had been- important to the young man. Moneypenny didn't know how to make this better. Kill 005? Wound him? Send him to Africa for ten years? Buy another mug?
Moneypenny didn't think any of things would work, though Q and his underlings might get a kick out of it. After all, the minions were as protective of Q as Moneypenny was. Of course, nobody was as protective of Q as Bond was.
Moneypenny wondered just what James Bond was going to do to avenge his lover's Scrabble mug.
'I hate 005,' Q stated suddenly.
'I know you do, love,' Moneypenny said and brushed her fingers through his hair.
'Do you think I'd get in trouble if I destroyed him?' Q questioned, looking at her with large, innocent eyes.
Moneypenny snorted and shook her head. 'I don't know, Q,' she said honestly. 'M might make an acceptance.'
'Might,' Q scoffed and threw his hands in the air. 'If I was M double-ohs wouldn't get away with flirting with their Quartmasters, being pretentious pricks, and destroying innocent and loved mugs!'
Moneypenny waited until Q had his breathing under control before saying, 'You don't mind Bond flirting with you.'
'007 is different,' Q sniffed.
'Of course he is,' Moneypenny grinned.
Q scowled at her before once more folding his arms and glaring across the office.
Moneypenny wondered if there was a way to fix this. And if there wasn't, MI6 would never be the same again. Because she was positive Q would destroy the entire organisation if he didn't get his Earl Grey.
Q was tapping listlessly as his keyboard when the door behind him swished open. Most of Q-Branch had headed home, only those working missions or projects remaining behind. Q didn't look back when a warm hand brushed his shoulder, but he did smile softly when lips were pressed against his cheek.
'Where did you go?' Q asked as James made him stand and move to the sofa set along the wall of Q's office.
'Shopping,' James said and set a small bag on the table before them. Q raised his eyebrows and James nodded.
Q reached over and grabbed the bag, reaching inside once it was settled on his lap. He pushed paper aside until his fingers closed around something smooth and cold. Eyes widening in disbelief, Q gasped when he pulled a mug from the bag. A new Scrabble mug complete with capital "Q" and a small "10".
'James,' he whispered. 'You... you...'
'I know your mug's important,' James said before correcting himself, 'well, was important. I don't know why, but it was.' He wrapped his arm around Q's shoulders and squeezed gently. 'This isn't the same mug, no, but I thought it might help you move on from the death of the last one.'
Q was silent as he ran loving fingers over the new mug. His eyes felt wet, and his shoulders were beginning to shake. He knew it must seem foolish to be so attached to a mug, but it had been his Q mug.
Wetting his lips, Q said, 'The old Q... you knew him?'
'Of course,' James nodded. 'He was my Quartermaster before you.'
'He... he was my mentor, a father-figure, in a way,' Q said slowly. 'I was assigned to him when I was first brought into MI6, back when I was R. He taught me everything I know about being an MI6 operative, about being part of Q-Branch and MI6 itself. He... he was important to me.'
Q sniffed and wiped his eyes, thankful when James didn't say anything.
'The mug was given to him as a joke,' Q continued. 'He gave it to me; he said, 'One day, R, you will be the Quartermaster. And you'll have use for this'. And when I was made Quartermaster after his death I did.'
He stopped again to lean heavily against James, who rubbed his arm soothingly.
'That mug was my only connection to him,' Q admitted softly. 'It reminded me of him, of who I used to be, of what he knew, without a doubt, I could accomplish. Nobody has ever believed in me as much as he did. And... and now it's gone.'
The tears finally fell freely and James held his partner as he cried. There was no sobbing or wailing or words, just James being there for his Quartermaster, his lover, as he mourned the loss of his mug and his mentor.
What felt like hours later, but was probably only minutes, Q stopped crying and James asked, 'Do you want me to make you some tea?'
Q smiled. 'If only the minions could see you now.' James chuckled. 'You've got a gooey centre, 007.'
'Only with you,' James responded.
Q's smile widened and he looked down at his new Q mug. He traced over the letter, gently touched the 10, and turned to his partner to offer him a chaste, warm kiss. 'Thank you,' he said.
'It was nothing.'
'It was something,' Q corrected. 'Really, James; thank you.'
James smiled and kissed him again before plucking the mug from Q's fingers. 'Anything for my Quartermaster.'
Q watched as James stood and disappeared to make him tea. He missed his old mug. But Q decided that this new one was just as good, because it reminded him of James.
And that made it important.
Author's Note: So, I hope you enjoyed it :) It's random and weird, I know. But I had fun writing it; it made me want tea and my own Scrabble mug with a letter "A". Or should I get "D" for Dreamer? If only I had money...
Feel free to review or whatever it is you lovely readers feel like doing at this fine hour (I haven't slept in a while, can you tell?) I'm working on longer 00Q fics, as well as some Bondlock (because Q as a baby Holmes, yes please!)