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Notes: Written for runemarks on tumblr.
Title: sleep the hours (i can't weep)
Fandom: Skyfall
Pairing: James Bond/Q
Words: 618 words
Prompt: q’s very reluctant to have bond’s attention so he deliberately wears baggy clothing to make him seem less appealing. bond sees though it.
sleep the hours (i can't weep)
There was some comfort to be had in a too-large cardigan. Q was very good at making himself invisible without the need for an actual invisibility coat, but that was harder to achieve with Bond because Bond always saw him. He narrowed in on him like he'd strapped a giant sign to his back that said JAMES BOND LOOK HERE.
That was why he started with the bigger clothing. Maybe it was mildly non-professional of him, but no one would say anything for fear of what Q might do to them – far beyond a sharp look and the ominous pause of his fingers over his keyboard.
So he buried himself in his work and too big clothes. His work ethic remained the same as did his output; the only thing that changed were his clothes. He wasn't going to let this thing – whatever it was – with Bond interfere with his work. Q was there to get the job done and keep the agents alive and supplied, that was all.
He was not there to do anything more. He was not prepared to give anything else away.
Bond, clearly, was going to challenge that and what scared Q was the fact that Bond could very possibly win. He couldn't let that happen – wouldn't.
For a while, it seemed like it was working. Bond's eyes skated over him and he seemed more withdrawn than usual; he was less casual with his touches than he'd been before. He kept his distance from Q, but there was something in his eyes that left Q on edge.
Bond disappeared to somewhere in Europe on a mission. Q was only mildly unnerved by the fact that Bond had managed to slip past every bit of security Q had placed on keeping track of his location. Bond was in the wind and Q wasn't happy about it, though he kept quiet. M didn't seem too put off by it.
M shrugged, “It's not the first time. You get used to his... unique way of doing things.”
Q shut his mouth and rolled up his sleeves that were sliding past his hands and went back to work after that. He kept up a constant monitoring of all of Bond's known assets (and several that weren't officially on the books) and his last known location in the vain hope that he would turn up somewhere.
Two days after Bond had slipped off the radar and was, for all intents and purposes, missing, Q opened the door to his flat and found something waiting for him on his kitchen table.
There was a note pinned to the innocuous paper bag and Q recognized the writing as being Bond's. He'd seen it any number of times on mission briefings and damage reports. There was a lump in his throat as he picked it up.
'Thought you might enjoy a new type of tea. –007. PS. I know what you're doing.'
He was almost tempted to simply throw it out, but curiosity killed the cat and all that. Instead, he opened it up and inspected the blend inside. It seemed Bond's good taste extended from just a good suit and nice cars – though Q wasn't quite sure where he fit into all of that.
Three days after he found the tea on his kitchen table, he ended up crowded against that same table by one double-oh agent. Bond's lips brushed against his as he spoke.
“I didn't think that you had it in you to be self-conscious, Q.”
Q frowned, trying and failing to ignore the shivers racing down his spine, “There's a first for everything.”
“Indeed.” That was when Bond kissed him for the first time and it set a fire in Q's veins that he couldn't resist.
He kissed back.
FIN.
Title: sleep the hours (i can't weep)
Fandom: Skyfall
Pairing: James Bond/Q
Words: 618 words
Prompt: q’s very reluctant to have bond’s attention so he deliberately wears baggy clothing to make him seem less appealing. bond sees though it.
There was some comfort to be had in a too-large cardigan. Q was very good at making himself invisible without the need for an actual invisibility coat, but that was harder to achieve with Bond because Bond always saw him. He narrowed in on him like he'd strapped a giant sign to his back that said JAMES BOND LOOK HERE.
That was why he started with the bigger clothing. Maybe it was mildly non-professional of him, but no one would say anything for fear of what Q might do to them – far beyond a sharp look and the ominous pause of his fingers over his keyboard.
So he buried himself in his work and too big clothes. His work ethic remained the same as did his output; the only thing that changed were his clothes. He wasn't going to let this thing – whatever it was – with Bond interfere with his work. Q was there to get the job done and keep the agents alive and supplied, that was all.
He was not there to do anything more. He was not prepared to give anything else away.
Bond, clearly, was going to challenge that and what scared Q was the fact that Bond could very possibly win. He couldn't let that happen – wouldn't.
For a while, it seemed like it was working. Bond's eyes skated over him and he seemed more withdrawn than usual; he was less casual with his touches than he'd been before. He kept his distance from Q, but there was something in his eyes that left Q on edge.
Bond disappeared to somewhere in Europe on a mission. Q was only mildly unnerved by the fact that Bond had managed to slip past every bit of security Q had placed on keeping track of his location. Bond was in the wind and Q wasn't happy about it, though he kept quiet. M didn't seem too put off by it.
M shrugged, “It's not the first time. You get used to his... unique way of doing things.”
Q shut his mouth and rolled up his sleeves that were sliding past his hands and went back to work after that. He kept up a constant monitoring of all of Bond's known assets (and several that weren't officially on the books) and his last known location in the vain hope that he would turn up somewhere.
Two days after Bond had slipped off the radar and was, for all intents and purposes, missing, Q opened the door to his flat and found something waiting for him on his kitchen table.
There was a note pinned to the innocuous paper bag and Q recognized the writing as being Bond's. He'd seen it any number of times on mission briefings and damage reports. There was a lump in his throat as he picked it up.
'Thought you might enjoy a new type of tea. –007. PS. I know what you're doing.'
He was almost tempted to simply throw it out, but curiosity killed the cat and all that. Instead, he opened it up and inspected the blend inside. It seemed Bond's good taste extended from just a good suit and nice cars – though Q wasn't quite sure where he fit into all of that.
Three days after he found the tea on his kitchen table, he ended up crowded against that same table by one double-oh agent. Bond's lips brushed against his as he spoke.
“I didn't think that you had it in you to be self-conscious, Q.”
Q frowned, trying and failing to ignore the shivers racing down his spine, “There's a first for everything.”
“Indeed.” That was when Bond kissed him for the first time and it set a fire in Q's veins that he couldn't resist.
He kissed back.
FIN.
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