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Eve Moneypenny receives the first text message on a bright and sunny Tuesday afternoon.
It’s from Tanner, not Q (which in itself is mildly surprising; had she been in a betting mood, she’d have given the honour to Q and not to Bill) and it’s short and to the point.
Please tell me M has a mission for 006.
Eve glances at the door that separates her office from M’s, and then turns her attention towards her laptop. She checks her email, and there’s nothing new there, just as she’d expected.
Well, nothing new that concerns Alec Trevelyan, at least.
Sorry, no, she texts him. Not yet, anyway. Honeymoon period over, then?
Tanner’s been dating Trevelyan for about three months, give or take a few days. It was a big deal when the two of them came out of the closet, so to speak; bigger, even, than when Q revealed that he’d been seeing Bond on the sly for the past six months.
But then again, everyone who ever saw Bond and Q together or had access to the mission logs knew that there was something there between the two of them. Eve knows for certain that there hadn’t even been any new betting pools about them after the first month, for no one wanted to bet against them having a relationship any longer.
Eve smiles a little to herself, remembering how she’d been the one to win that particular bet.
No. But I would appreciate not being bothered while at work.
Tanner’s reply makes Eve chuckle. She considers telling him to just grin and bear it, or if all else fails, ask Q whether Q Branch has anything for a wayward and/or bored agent to do, but then her email pings and she finds that his prayers have been answered, after all.
You’re in luck, she writes. There should be a summons coming 006’s way in a few hours. Nothing difficult, just time consuming. A week and a half, tops?
Eve rereads the email while waiting for a reply from Tanner. When it comes, it’s just one word.
Lovely.
She shakes her head, amused. Tanner’s never been a field agent and therefore he has no such experiences as she does, so she’s not exactly blaming him for not being quite as used to the agents’ antics. Still, he has been with M—both Ms—for a long while, so he should be able to imagine what a double-oh in love (or in lust) is like.
After all, he too had been a witness to Q and Bond and their brand of definitely dysfunctional courtship.
*
Q doesn’t send Eve a text.
Instead, she receives an email from him, a long, slightly rambling and winding thing riddled with emoticons (a sure sign that Q’s not entirely sober, if there ever is one), filled with ideas about various gadgets that he’s planning to make for the agents. (Read: for Bond.) And there, inconspicuously wedged between some gossip about the head of Accounting (that came from R as Eve well knows, having been the one to share it with her) and Q asking for confirmation about a detail in 009’s mission directive, is what Eve has secretly been expecting.
007 just returned from his latest mission, and I swear to you that man simply doesn’t know how to keep anything safe and unbroken for more than five minutes. 😠 And it’s not even about the money, no; it’s about me explicitly telling him that the thing I just gave him is a prototype and it’s imperative that I get it back, and he still goes and tosses it into the nearest river the first chance he gets. 🤬🤬🤬 Tell me, Eve, why am I even surprised anymore?
Eve pauses to smile amusedly, though part of her does feel bad for Q’s tech. She hopes that Q Branch can still arrange to get the prototype back (surely Q’d equipped it with a tracker), but she doesn’t hold her breath because well, it’s the Danube. Bond really should learn to value his Quartermaster’s hard work one of these days, if he doesn’t want to end up being kitted with nothing but a gun and a radio again.
Then again, Q’s been Bond’s Quartermaster for over a year, and his lover for at least half that time. He ought to know what he’s up against, and prepare accordingly. Bond might respond better to a carrot than a stick.
Or maybe to a combination of the two, whatever works. Eve’s not here to judge.
She does, however, finish reading Q’s email and responds with a line of well-chosen emoticons of her own as well as a suggestion to make Bond pay for it by having him fill out his after action report in a timely manner for once.
Or not, if Q’d prefer for M to give his lover another lecture about punctuality in regards to one’s paperwork as well as to respecting one’s colleagues.
It’s like she’d said before, whatever works.
*
Tanner messages Eve again exactly thirteen days later.
She’s not busy at the moment, for a change; instead, she’d just been about to text both him and Q to inquire about their potential lunch plans, and whether such plans would be open for company. She reads Tanner’s message and snorts audibly.
M just told me off for “public indecency” and that I should “reign in my agent”. Me. Alec only got a glare.
Poor Tanner, she thinks, and fires off a quick reply. Oh dear. Is he still there with you?
Of course not. I told him to go bother someone else for a change and not return until I told him to.
…I fear that he chose Q Branch as his next target.
Eve hides a grin and fully expects to receive a text from Q any minute now. Especially since Bond is also around, and Bond and Trevelyan together… Well, there’s a reason they’re known as The Chaos Twins around Six.
Lunch? She sends it to Tanner next.
Just tell me where.
Eve waits for exactly three and half minutes until her mobile pings with a text from Q that simply says, Lunch at the Monarch Café, fifteen minutes. She then dutifully forwards the details to Tanner and gets ready for an extended absence. M’ll understand, he’s well aware of how Bond and Trevelyan are, and it’s not like he’s around right now, either.
*
Eve meets Tanner in the lobby, and together they head over to the café. It’s one of her favourite places to have lunch, not only because of the amazing dessert selection it boasts (though that certainly helps with Q’s sweet tooth). Also, it’s very close to Six, which means more talking and less walking when time is not an abundance at the moment.
It’s not that Eve is opposed to walking or anything, but she’s often too busy to go anywhere that isn’t within a five minute walk. Q, being head of his branch, regularly has even less time than her and thus the café is a good compromise for wanting to go somewhere other than the MI6 cafeteria but be able to return quickly.
Q is already sitting at their regular table in the corner of the room, a pot of tea in front of him. Eve and Tanner go to the front counter to place their orders, and then both head over to Q with their chosen beverages: a mocha frappe for Eve and a hot chocolate for Tanner.
Q sips his tea. “You’re two minutes late.”
Eve rolls her eyes. “That’s rich coming from you,” she says, “given that you’re often at least five minutes late yourself.”
Q smiles serenely and takes another sip. “I have perfectly valid reasons, and they often end with a six or a seven.”
“Where’s James now, anyway?” Eve asks. “I thought that maybe you’d have lunch with him today.”
“Hardly, when Trevelyan’s around,” Q says. “I refuse to go anywhere alone with those two.”
Tanner, who has so far listened to them bicker with barely hidden amusement, gives a sigh. “Same here,” he says. “I made that mistake once, and I won’t be making it again.”
Eve, who honestly likes spending time with the double-ohs, just smiles. She has no problem going out in public with them, though she is willing to consider that it might be because she knows exactly how to handle them.
She’s also willing to share her knowledge, if the price is right. So far it hasn’t been, not that Q or Bill have ever asked her out loud or using their words.
“Well then,” she says when she deems that a suitable amount of time has been spent simmering on Tanner’s words. “What have our dearest Chaos Twins done this time?”
“What haven’t they done, more likely,” Q mutters and takes an aggressive gulp of his tea.
“That bad, eh?” Eve says and tries her best to look sympathetic. The way Q dumps an extra spoonful of sugar in his tea and then stirs it with more noise than absolutely necessary, she guesses that it had probably missed the mark. Oh well.
Tanner puts his empty mug back down on the table with perhaps more carelessness than usual. “That bad,” he confirms, standing up to go back to the front counter. Then he makes a face at Eve. “I can have two hot chocolates with my lunch if I want to,” he adds.
”I never said you couldn’t,” Eve grins, amused.
“It was implied in that look of yours,” Tanner sniffs.
“I’m afraid I can’t confirm or deny such accusations,” Eve jokes. Then, she turns to Q. “Did they steal one of your prototypes again?”
Q’s sigh is as explosive as it is so very telling. “Two, and also an amount of weapons that is frankly terrifying. If there’s no longer a Q Branch in existence when we return, well, you know whose fault it is.”
Tanner’s sweet tooth, while smaller than Q’s, has never been a surprise to Eve. That’s probably because Tanner had tried his very best to hide it while at work, the poor dear, but what can she say, she was a field agent once and a very good one at that, too. As good as Bond, even, though not in exactly the same way.
For one, she’d always specialised in blending in and keeping to her cover.
She still does, actually. It’s certainly a useful talent for a secretary of M’s.
“Be that as it may,” Eve says, bringing them back to the problem at hand, so to speak, “you were saying something about James and Alec?”
“They’re somewhere in my branch right now,” Q says, staring intently at his tea. “With pockets full of stolen tech. My tech, Eve, half of which was to never grace their slippery paws.”
“Having the time of their lives, most likely,” Tanner adds, having just returned to their table.
“Untested tech?” Eve asks mildly.
Q glares at her. “What do you take me for? It’s all tested and safe to use, technically anyway. But we hadn’t got to the field agent test level with all of them yet. Plus some weren’t even meant for double-ohs at all because they were for subtler use.”
“There will be complaints about that after, I’m sure,” Tanner predicts.
Q snorts. “For sure. From me, that is. I hope you’re not expecting Trevelyan to come home early tonight.”
“Heavens no. The longer you can keep him at Six the better.”
Eve has to smother her laughter behind a napkin. She’s not completely successful, but then the waiter appears with their lunches (and Tanner’s second hot chocolate), so she marks it as such anyway.
“Did you know,” Q says after the waiter has gone, “James suggested a double date earlier today. Triple, even, if you’re available to join us,” he continues, looking at Eve. Then he stabs a pear from his fruit salad and eats it with precise bites.
“That sounds nice,” Eve comments, aiming for nonchalant, but the barely there pause between the last two words probably gives her away.
“For you, perhaps.”
“If you don’t mind PDA, competitiveness, and alcoholic beverages with overly pretentious names,” Tanner says. He’s looking at his sandwich like it holds all the secrets of the universe.
And who knows, maybe it does. It is a fine specimen of a roast beef sandwich, after all.
“It could be fun,” Eve shrugs, then grins at the two identical incredulous looks that she receives.
“It’ll be a disaster,” Q corrects her. “But it’s your funeral.”
“Have James text me details,” Eve tells him, because she’s always serious when she wants to be.
“Sure,” Q says and points at her with his fork, a strawberry speared at the end of it. “But you don’t know what you’re signing yourself up for.”
“I think you’ll find that I do,” Eve smiles serenely.
Q shrugs and eats his strawberry. “If you say so.” He pauses to drain his teacup and pour himself a new one, then looks at her again. “Anyway. I meant to ask you if you could stop by Q Branch after lunch? There are some things there that we should talk about.”
Eve nods, and the rest of the lunch is spent mostly talking about random things like the newest season of Doctor Who, interspersed with more complaints from Q and Tanner about their irksome agents and light noises of amusement from Eve.
After, they return to Six in amicable moods, mostly silent with some chatter interspersed on the way back. Parting ways in the lobby, Tanner heads to his office, while Q and Eve proceed towards Q Branch.
Eve can hear it even before they reach the main part of the branch, and even if she hadn’t, she’d be able to deduce that something was wrong by the way Q’s shoulders tighten ever so slightly. Also, he gets that look on his face that tells her that he’s focusing on something specific.
“Well,” she remarks, “I don’t think that I’ve ever heard Q Branch this quiet.”
“Me neither,” Q says and steps inside, with Eve right behind him, only to stop right in the middle of the room. Neatly, Eve sidesteps him and leans against the desk of the closest Q brancher, ready to enjoy the show.
“006,” Q says, and his voice is deceptively mild. “007.”
“Q,” says Trevelyan, sounding amused. (Eve clicks her tongue, because surely he ought to know better.)
“Darling,” Bond smiles slightly, setting the gun he’d been fiddling with down on the nearest flat surface, amongst a selection of other interesting-looking gadgets. “Did you have a nice lunch?” he asks. He also moves closer to Q, which doesn’t strike Eve as the most sound decision ever, but well, it’s Bond. A somewhat shaky grasp of reality is a part of the package with him.
“I don’t remember inviting you two to my branch,” Q says, ignoring his lover’s words. “And I certainly don’t remember giving you permission to touch my things.” He pauses for effect, then continues with, “Since my memory is excellent, would either of you care to tell me how exactly you managed to end up here?”
Bond’s perhaps carelessly chosen, “I do so enjoy touching your things, darling,” only gets him Q’s very own version of Paddington’s hard stare. Trevelyan, who unwisely chooses to draw attention to himself by not muffling his chuckle, blinks when said hard stare is suddenly aimed towards him.
“We got permission?” he says, and seems unable to not make it sound like a question. Nice tactic, Eve thinks and glances at Q approvingly.
“Now Trevelyan, if you do choose to lie, at least try and make it sound more believable,” Q says, and he even manages to sound disappointed. “I was under the impression that your training included that, at the very least.”
Now it’s Bond’s turn to chuckle, and Eve grins a little when she sees Q turn back to him. “I’m not hearing anything more believable from you, either,” he says sharply. “Which is, frankly, extremely disappointing.”
Bond’s expression is a mix of amusement and incredulity, and Eve gives a silent thumbs-up to her friend. She’d known he had it in him, but knowing is one thing and being there to watch it is a whole other delicious show.
The rest of the branch seems to agree with her, at least going by the breathless quality of the quiet around them.
“Q,” Bond says, probably trying to sound charming and reasonable, but Q doesn’t give him the chance to finish. Instead, he unleashes a lecture on the deeper meaning of consent and respecting other people’s hard work, the likes of which Eve hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing since the reign of their previous M, and she hopes that someone gets it on video.
No, scratch that, she knows someone is filming. But if that someone doesn’t feel inclined to share, well. They should probably hand in their resignation sooner rather than later and prepare to be eviscerated.
She could even be sporting and offer them the courtesy of a warning.
Maybe.
All the while, Bond and Trevelyan are staring at Q with different expressions on their faces. While Trevelyan’s is a mix of amusement and impressed, perhaps threaded with slight confusion here and there, it’s Bond’s that catches Eve’s eye. Perhaps obviously, as he’s Q’s boyfriend, but there’s just something deeper and heavier in there, hidden in the depths of those famously blue eyes.
Q, for his part, keeps glaring at both agents in turn, perhaps trying to be extra clear about addressing them both, or even making a show of not letting the fact that Bond is his lover affect his choice of words. Eve’s pretty certain that he’s just not wanting to let Bond’s puppy dog eyes work their magic on him, because even though she hasn’t been affected by the bright blue of his gaze since the first week of meeting the man, Q definitely cannot claim the same. Why else would he keep making gadgets just for Bond to destroy them time and time again?
Q can grumble all he wants and make all sorts of silly claims about M’s orders and being the Quartermaster, Eve, it’s in my bloody job description, no one’s fooled, she least of all.
Besides, she’s seen him whenever Bond’s in the room, and the way Q looks at Bond is only rivaled by the way Bond looks at Q.
At one point, Bond reaches out a hand to grasp Q’s, threading their fingers together, but Q doesn’t miss a single beat. Not even when Bond brings his hand to his lips and gently kisses the tips of his fingers, which rather proves Eve’s point.
(He does blush faintly at the kiss, though, but Eve doesn’t hold it against him.)
She watches as Q finishes his lecture with a pointed look at both agents and then gives them precise orders that end up with two double-oh agents quietly following their chosen Q Branchers further into the depths of the department. He follows Bond’s diverging form with his eyes, his expression a mix of annoyance and fondness.
“Shall we, then?” Q asks, turning to face Eve again. She nods, smiling, and follows him into his office to talk about whatever it was that he’d had in mind.
*
Eve receives the text with the details about their triple date from Bond late that night. Or early in the morning, depending on how one chooses to look at it.
“I hope you’re not busy on Friday,” she says to her sleepy boyfriend.
“Why?” Alex, also known as 009, asks with a yawn.
“Because we’re having a triple date with Bond, Q, Bill and Trevelyan,” Eve responds.
“Oh, so we’re finally doing it then?” Alex says, suddenly more awake.
“Yes.” At his amused look, Eve snorts. “It’s not my fault that they’ve still not realised we’re together. I’ve been dropping enough hints to fill up the entire MI6 building.”
Alex laughs. “I can’t wait to see their faces.”
“Me neither,” Eve says and smiles mischievously. Bond and Trevelyan especially are in for a big surprise.