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Q closes the door behind him. He toes off his shoes, carelessly throws his jacket to the floor. Somehow, the cats feel his anxiousness. They stay on their look out in the living room window. On his way through the flat, Q sheds various pieces of electronics. His watch, several mobiles, even his car keys. Danny has few rules, even fewer boundaries, but he is strict about electronics in his little office. A former cupboard, which James and Q helped to repurpose as an office space for Danny, all the years back when they met for the first time. Back then, both James and Q were amused about Danny’s aversion for anything electronical, even an electric clock is banned from ever entering the small space in the middle of their flat. Only a small lamp, which Alex found in an antiques shop, has made it into Danny’s sanctuary. A skylight, the glass stained, is part of the illumination during the day. The walls are covered with papers, notes, pictures. His typewriter is well-used and well kept. His publisher has time and again tried to persuade their bestselling author of romance slash horror novels to give up his anonymity and to send his manuscripts via email. To no avail. Danny has his rules, few they are, but he sticks to them.
Through the years, the space has been widened, making room for a small sofa and an armchair, besides the wooden bench, Danny insists on using as his desk chair. Also, Q made sure the walls are soundproof and the insulation makes it impossible to detect the room and its potential inhabitants from the outside. Danny insisted, showing his stubbornness in the best possible way. As James, Alex and Q now know and appreciate. Because the amusement has long passed. The room has become the one place where the four of them can feel safe and secure.
Sliding the small door to one side, Q enters the narrow room. James has beaten him to it. He is sitting in the well-worn armchair, and Q bends down and lets himself be embraced in a hug. James holds on to him, and Q nuzzles into his neck, returning the hug forcefully. He needs it. They both do, holding on to each other just a little while longer before Q turns away with a sigh and sits down on the bench.
“Everything ready?”
James nods. He clears his throat.
“I checked with Felix,” he says. “Danny is right.”
“Of course, he is,” Q says, biting his lower lip. “He always is. Remember Brexit? He called it long before any of us even knew who Farage was. Or Scotland. He knew the outcome of that second referendum.”
“Lucky for us,” James acknowledges. “Both the outcome and Danny knowing well beforehand.”
They sit in silence. Actually, if it weren’t as tragic and terrifying, it would be funny. Danny being the one who always knows what is going down on the Internet. The one guy in their small household, who despises social media and any kind of surveillance technology the most, is the one guy, who always knows what the newest trend entails. Danny has one Facebook account, in another name, using it solely to promote his novels, written under a pseudonym. And still, he knows. As if he can sense changes in the mood of people, even when mediated as memes or shitposts. Danny is the one, who will tell Alex that Facebook’s algorithms must have changed again. Or that a certain profile on Gap now is the one to follow, if Q wants to find intel on this terrorist groups, they were talking about the other week.
Q shakes his head, and James smiles at him.
“I have no idea, how he does it,” Q says, equal frustration and fondness clear in his voice.
James hums in agreement. All three of them are the best in their particular fields, and still, Danny defies any of them. Not through logic or calculation; not by using advanced technology or algorithms; not by brute force or strategic planning. Rather, it is the very opposite. Alex probably understands best. The deep empathy, the way, Danny just listens, senses, feels. Open and accessible, he seems. People tell him their life stories, online and offline. And they never even realise how little he tells them. How well he keeps his life, his thoughts private and closed off. Only for his three lovers to see his true self.
Q looks up at James, who is sitting motionless, not even a drink in his hand.
They watched the news last night, as they do when they all are in town and back home in time. Danny always sitting on the floor, his back to the sofa, hair being petted by Alex or James, while Q comments on the speaker’s wrong interpretation or lack of knowledge regarding the presented stories. And every now and then, Danny explains a certain fact or photo, which shows up on the screen. Calmly, almost apologising for interrupting the flow. And, like that night almost four weeks ago, the three of them will sit there and listen, surprised and disbelieving.
The door slides open again. Alex stands in the opening, his face closed off, eyes searching for the others. Q can see the change, relief, then fear. Alex has never really left his trauma behind, it lingers under the surface, ready to burst out in the open. James opens his arms invitingly, and Alex moves over and lets himself be hugged close.
“Funny, isn’t it,” Q asks, “here we are, hiding away in a small room to avoid being detected by any of the programmes and technologies, we use ourselves to keep bad things from happening to Queen and country.”
James huffs, as Alex just shakes his head. He has moved to sit on the side of the chair, James’ hand calmingly pressed at the small of his back.
“That’s the problem with democracies,” Alex says silently. “If a majority votes for the people opposing it, it will fall apart. No matter what the minority wants.”
“Not sure, we’re even a minority,” James replies. “But this voting system, it’s just broken. Has been for a while now.”
“What’s happening in the States,” Q shakes his head. “If Felix is right, this is the beginning. And I’m not sure, we’ll be able to stop it. Look at Poland and Hungary. They are lost. France and Germany, once they follow,” he pauses, shrugs. “And honestly, we lost it, with Brexit.”
“Scotland got its independence,” James’ smile is mirthless.
The result from the second referendum turned MI6 into a panicky mess. Agents like James turned from valued asset to liability. Q’s and Alex’ loyalty became questionable, as did several others. Danny was their one grounding rock during those months. But Q still sees the glances, senses the sudden silence when he enters a room. Tanner and Moneypenny have problems as well; their marriage is a point of contention, as are Q’s lovers. Homophobia and racism have been on the rise ever since that fateful Brexit referendum.
They have talked about this before. On the night of the vote. Then on the night four weeks ago, when Danny looked up from his perch on the floor and casually stated, that Trump would force his Presidency into a fourth term, now with the help of the military.
They have a plan, as surreal as it has feels; all four of them know too much about their government and secret services to be naïve. And last night it became reality. Trump will continue as President of the United States. Twitter was forced to open his account three years ago. As Facebook had done voluntarily when he began his re-election campaign back in late 2021.
“Felix was packing his bags, when I talked to him,” James explains. “I had no idea how difficult things have become for him and his family. They’re moving to Canada, staying with his aunt until he can get settled.”
They can hear the front door opening, the cats meowing loudly, greeting Danny enthusiastically.
“He is in charge of getting them into their carriers,” James points out, as all three of them can feel the tension shift, the mood easing slightly.
They can hear Danny cooing, telling Pam and Turing about his day. He walks to the open door and shoos the cats into the room, Pam being picked up by Alex, while Turing jumps on the desk. Danny smiles, an actual, genuine smile when he sees his three lovers. He closes the door behind him. A small peck on Q’s cheek, a promising kiss for James, and then he pulls Alex down on the sofa, hugging him close and keeping him by his side.
“Ready?” he asks, by all means looking like he is on his way to a new adventure.
Alex nods.
“The programme is in place. It should give us a head start,” Alex explains. “Two days before the higher ups suspect anything.”
Q nods approvingly. He has installed his own programme to ensure any trace of them would be deleted within the next hours. Officially, all of them will cease to exist once they have crossed the border and will be safely in Scotland.
“Well, gentlemen,” James rises, “let’s start on our new mission. Skyfall is ready, let’s see if Scotland is prepared for us as well.”