Chapter Ten

Warnings: References to off-screen violence, torture and rape

'Bond was caught,' Alec said as he stormed into M's office.

The woman scowled at him. 'I am aware of that, 006,' she said.

'Well?' Alec demanded. 'When are we going in to get him?'

M sighed and pushed the file she'd been reading aside. '007 getting caught was part of the plan, 006,' M said.

Alec paused from where he'd been about to throw himself into the chair before M's desk. 'Excuse me?' he asked.

'Bond getting caught was part of the plan,' M stated. 'Bond getting caught drew O'Reilly's attention, leaving 003 and 008 free to get Dr Franks.'

'You... James didn't mention that,' Alec said slowly, eyes on M.

M shrugged one shoulder. 'It wasn't in his mission debriefing.'

'Wait,' Alec held a hand up, 'you didn't tell James that his mission was to get caught?'

'Negative,' M said. 'Bond is terrible at getting caught and held, as you well know. The cabinet and I agreed to keep the details to ourselves, 003 and 008.'

'Then why aren't we rescuing him?' Alec demanded, moving closer to the desk. 'If James didn't know that him getting caught was part of the plan, he'll be expecting a rescue! He won't plan one himself.'

'England can't be caught sending agents into the Republic of Ireland,' M said sharply. 'Sooner or later Bond will get himself home. Or...' she trailed off and looked at Alec pointedly.

Alec couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew that all agents- double-ohs especially- expected to be caught or killed in action eventually, sometimes both. But they were always, always told what missions were the most dangerous, when to expect to fail. Nearly every double-oh who had died in action had known going into the mission that there was a high chance they wouldn't be coming home.

But Bond had been told that this was a routine mission, something he could easily complete. He hadn't been told that he was a pawn, the bait, and that he was being left to rot at the hands of a sadist in fucking Ireland. Bond would be tortured to death before he realised that MI6- that 003 and 008- weren't coming for him.

Alec was under no illusion that the agents of MI6 were more important than the missions carried out, or the country itself. But he'd thought that they were at least being treated like fucking human beings. That M would fuck James over like this was... sickening.

'You're dismissed, 006,' M said, wrenching Alec from his thoughts. 'Either Bond comes home or he dies in action,' she added, eyes once more on the folder spread before her.

Alec scowled but managed to grit out, 'Ma'am,' before he turned and stalked away.

Fuck M and fuck MI6. If nobody was going after James, Alec would fucking go himself.

{oOo}

Alec frowned from where he was sitting in the corner. Q was tapping away at Alec's former laptop, at his mobile and tablet, too. He was grinning to himself, which didn't bode well for anyone, Alec thought. James was in the shower, thank God; it meant that Alec finally got a break from his and Q's constant flirting.

Alec and James had contacted Neville Barton two days prior, and the man had agreed to get together three fake passports, as well as look into the cargo he had flying out within the next two weeks. Neville had always been a good friend of Alec's; his father had gotten James and Alec out of the country when they'd defected from MI6.

The passports weren't really needed to get out of England, not if they smuggled themselves out on one of Neville's cargo flights. But they'd need them once they reached France or Greece. If Q wanted to disappear, he'd need a new identity to do it.

Alec once again pondered the... thing that was James Bond and the former Quartermaster of MI6. From what he'd gathered, Q and James still hadn't really discussed whatever was happening between them; Q hadn't stated that he was going to stay with the two double-ohs, and Bond hadn't outright asked. No, they'd just flirted and eye-fucked and James had pranced around the hotel without a shirt on at least forty times. And then Q, when James had inspected his bandages the day before, had done the exact same thing, only he'd stripped down to his boxers.

Alec really needed some brain bleach to wipe the memory of James ogling the boy for an hour straight.

Sighing, Alec went back to cleaning his multitude of weapons. He really wanted to hit one of MI6's safe houses- they had four in England just in case MI6 was ever breached, and one each in Scotland, the Republic of Ireland, and Wales. They could rob one before they left the country.

But noo, James and Q didn't want to risk it; well, Q didn't want to risk it, and of course James agreed. He was wrapped around Q's finger already and they hadn't even fucked yet. It was going to get worse, Alec just knew it.

Alec sighed again and Q chose that moment to glance up from his computer screen for the first time in three hours. 'Would you please stop making that noise, 006?' he drawled. 'It's rather annoying.'

Alec glared at him. 'Q, would you please stop staring at James' arse? It's sickening.'

The boy blushed, Alec smirked, and the bathroom door opened before Q could snap out a comeback.

James, of course, only had a very small towel wrapped around his waist. Alec snorted when Q's eyes immediately darted to James, the blonde grinning when he realised he had Q's attention. He wandered over to his pack and started rummaging about for clean clothes, Q's eyes glued to his barely-hidden arse the entire time.

James dropped the towel and Alec averted his eyes; he noted that Q didn't. Alec had seen James naked countless times, because James was in the habit of getting shot and/or stabbed at least once during every job they undertook. Q, clearly, wasn't used to a naked James Bond, so really took the time to drink it all in while Alec shook his head and cleaned his weapons.

Really, it was getting ridiculous. Alec had been with them for three days and all they did was stare and flirt and fucking stare some more. Hopefully when they finally slept together it would stop and Alec wouldn't have to see it all the fucking time.

Q finally tore his eyes away from James when the older man pulled some pants and trousers on.

'What are you doing, Q?' James asked, turning to survey the hacker as he buttoned his trousers.

'Things,' Q murmured.

'Things?' James echoed, his lips tilting up in amusement.

Q rolled his eyes. 'If I went into detail you wouldn't understand.'

'Are you saying I'm stupid?' James asked.

'Yes,' Q said, voice completely serious, 'that is exactly what I'm saying, 007. Bravo.'

James chuckled and turned to grab a polo shirt.

'Anyway,' Q drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose, 'I was just finishing up a project I started. Now that you're finally done with the bathroom, I'm going to shower.'

'Make sure you don't wet your bandages, Q,' James said, voice soft, no tease to be heard.

Q blinked at him slowly before he just nodded, then he grabbed some clothes from is bag and left. The bathroom door shut with a click behind him and James immediately turned on Alec, eyes narrowed.

'What?' Alec demanded. As far as he knew he hadn't done anything in at least 12 hours.

'Why do you hate Q so much?' James asked.

'Oh my God,' Alec groaned. He tipped his head back, his skull connecting with the wall.

'No, seriously,' James said, 'why do you hate him?'

Alec sighed and ran a hand through his sandy hair. 'Everything you care about hurts you,' Alec said, thinking about M, MI6, England in general and, of course, Vesper Lynd. He didn't voice any of that aloud, because those were sure fire ways to get a knife to the gut from James Bond. James heard it all, though, if the tightening around his mouth and eyes was anything to go by.

'You think Q's going to hurt me?' he questioned.

'He will if you care about him,' Alec responded. 'Caring about someone gives them power over you.'

'Q won't intentionally hurt me,' James said.

Alec laughed. 'Because you know him so well.'

'I'm an excellent judge of character,' James sniffed.

'Yeah, right,' Alec chuckled again.

James shook his head. 'It doesn't matter how I feel about Q, anyway.'

'Oh really?'

The younger man nodded. 'He wants us to get him out of the country. After that I don't know what his plans are.'

Alec glanced at him. James was staring at the wall, and to your average person he'd seem absolutely fine. But Alec was a trained spy, and he'd known James for years; they were best friends, they lived and worked together. Alec could see how upset James felt at the thought of Q leaving.

Jesus Christ, Alec thought, they need to use their words.

'Just ask Q what his plans are,' Alec suggested.

'I don't want to,' James muttered, 'what if he doesn't want to stay?'

Oh my God! I hate you both. Alec's left hand tightened around the bottle of gun oil and he had to take a deep breath and force himself to relax. 'James,' he said, waiting until his friend was looking at him before continuing, 'James. You're thirty-eight years-old. Q is twenty-one years-old. Both of you are old enough to use your words and have a real, adult conversation. Just ask him. He wants to stay.'

'Do you think so?' James asked, practically perking up.

Alec rolled his eyes. 'I hate you,' he declared. 'But yes, he wants to stay.'

James was silent at that and after a beat he went to sit on the bed. He started going through the documents Q had stolen from MI6 for what must have been the hundredth time since his escape. Alec didn't say anything, though. James was usually all silent-and-broody when he had something serious to think about. Soon enough he'd be back to his usual charming, annoying self.

{oOo}

After talking to the pilot- an old and very discrete friend of Alec's- Alec headed into the back of the cargo plane. James was still slumped against one wall and the boy- Elliot, James had called him- was curled up at his side, his tangled, dirty hair hiding his face.

'Okay,' Alec said after he'd sat beside James, keeping his voice low, 'now are you gonna tell me who the kid is?'

'He just said his name's Elliot,' James murmured. He was speaking slowly, carefully, to avoid breaking open the multitude of cuts on his face. The arsehole who'd caught him- O'Reilly- had really done a number on James. They'd whipped him, beat him, and nearly raped him, too. Thankfully Alec had arrived just in time. 'O'Reilly kidnapped Elliot when he was a kid- his dad used to work for O'Reilly,' James continued. 'He...' James sighed and glanced pointedly at Alec, who just nodded. Alec didn't need James to go into detail; he could imagine what a psycho like O'Reilly had been doing to the poor lad.

And he was a lad; Elliot couldn't be older than fifteen, sixteen.

'Anyway,' James said, clearing his throat softly, 'Elliot helped me. He brought me food and water, and told me that he could help me escape if I took him with me. We were still planning when you showed up.' Here he smiled at Alec, and Alec grinned and clapped him gently on the shoulder in return.

'What are we going to tell M?' Alec asked after a brief moment of silence.

James sighed. 'I suppose I'll just say I escaped; I've done it before.'

'And Elliot?' Alec questioned.

James' jaw tightened and he glanced down at the boy. Elliot looked small, beaten, yet peaceful at the same time. Alec had to wonder how long the poor boy had been with O'Reilly; how many years had he lived in constant terror before James and Alec had rescued him?

Neither double-oh was under the impression that M would care about the boy; she was all about MI6, about England. People were just tools to be used to protect the country. If she found out that James brought back a boy who'd heard Alec and James discuss their jobs with MI6...?

'I'll take care of him,' James murmured, 'I'll get him a new identity. He'll disappear in the system. It'll be better than his old life.'

'Okay,' Alec said. James looked at him. 'I won't tell M about him,' Alec promised.

'And I won't tell M that you disappeared and rescued me,' James replied.

Alec snorted and leaned back against the wall. The plane rocked them both against each other and neither said a word, happy to sit with just the general aeroplane's noises for company. Elliot slept through it all, safely pressed against James' side.

{oOo}

It was Alec's turn to get lunch and when he left it was with a pointed look at James and Q. James rolled his eyes and then flipped his friend off, but Alec just smirked and slammed the hotel room door shut behind him. The sudden, loud noise made Q jolt and glance up from his computer.

'Alec went to get lunch,' James explained.

'Oh,' Q said. Then, he sniffed; 'Hopefully he doesn't get Chinese.'

'He might,' James said, grinning when Q looked at him.

The younger man scowled. 'From what I've seen, 006 is an arsehole, but he doesn't go out of his way to annoy me, unlike other double-ohs I've become familiar with.'

'You wouldn't be talking about now, would you, Q?' James asked, lips forming a pout. 'Because that would hurt.'

'You'll survive,' Q drawled. His eyes went back to his computer as James chuckled. The older man watched him for about a minute, maybe two, before crossing to the table. He sat opposite Q and didn't say a word until the hacker looked up. 'Can I help you, Bond?' he asked.

'Yes, you can,' James said.

Q looked surprised at the answer, but soon waved a hand. 'Okay...?'

James tilted his head, ran his eyes over what he could see of Q's body. He thought about the moment he'd first set eyes on Q, this young man, this boy, who'd turned out to be the Quartermaster and the one man who could get James out of MI6's clutches.

'Bond?' Q prompted.

'What are your plans for after we get out of the country?' James asked.

Q frowned slightly. 'My plans,' he echoed, and the former double-oh nodded. 'I'm... honestly not sure,' Q said slowly. 'I suppose that I'll go back to hacking.'

'Is there any country in particular you went to settle down in?' James asked.

'France or Greece, I suppose,' Q said. 'I can speak French.'

'So you've mentioned,' James commented. 'Alec and I are set-up in Greece for the time being. It's nice.'

'Okay...' Q repeated. He pushed his glasses back up.

'You could stay with us,' James said. He sounded far too hopeful, hesitant, even to his own ears, and it made him scowl lightly.

'You don't look happy about that prospect,' Q muttered.

James glanced back up to find Q staring hard at his laptop. 'I didn't meant it like that!' he near-shouted, making Q jump and then frown at him. 'Sorry,' James muttered. He groaned and reached up to rub his face. 'I'm not really... good at this,' he admitted.

'Good at what?' Q asked.

'At... asking for what I want- what I really want,' he said.

'What do you really want?'

'I want...' James growled in frustration and decided, to hell with it. He stood quickly and rounded the table. Before Q could protest, James fisted a hand in his shirt, dragged the younger man up, and pressed their mouths together. Q was immobile for all of one, two seconds, before he started kissing back.

James made a soft sound of pleasure that was muffled against Q's mouth. The hacker made a noise in response and kissed James harder, his hands coming up to grab at James' shirt and drag him closer. James went willingly, sinking into the kiss. He licked at Q's mouth and then dove in when Q's lips parted.

The boy tasted sweet, like the tea he'd been drinking all day, and James licked and bit and sucked until all he could taste was Q. And god, it was addicting. If Q said no- if he didn't want to stay- it was going to take a hell of a long time for James to get over him.

Q chose that moment to break the kiss, but he didn't go far. He leaned back slightly and breathed in and out heavily. His glasses had slid down his nose at the force of James' kiss and he reached up to slowly righten them.

'Well...' Q murmured and licked his lips. James made a soft noise of annoyance; goddamn it, he wanted another kiss. He leaned forward to do just that, only to find Q's entire hand pressed against his face. James raised an eyebrow, which made Q smirk. 'Just a second, 007.' James rolled his eyes. 'Do you want me to come with you and stay?' Q asked. 'Because that's what I took the whole kissing thing to mean.' James nodded and Q removed his hand. 'Ask,' Q said.

'Q...' James said slowly. He wound an arm around the smaller man's waist, smiling when Q pressed against him. 'I want you to stay. Because I like you and because Alec and I really could use a hacker. It'd make our jobs easier.'

'I see,' Q said.

'Well...?'

Q hummed and tilted his head, hazel eyes bright behind his glasses. 'I dunno,' he said, but he had a smile playing on his lips, 'I might need to be convinced some more.'

James growled and kissed him again, harsher this time, using the arm around Q's waist to crush their bodies together. Q made no complaints- just pressed closer, bit at James' lips until he opened up, Q's tongue exploring this time. James backed him up against the table and heard Q's various electronics bump across the top, but both men ignored it in favour of sliding their lips together.

James had no idea how long they kissed for; he was only aware of Q's warm, spit-slick lips, his clever, clever tongue, the way he rubbed himself against James and grabbed at his arse, tugging the taller man closer. They didn't stop until the hotel room opened, Alec stomping in with a bag of food in one hand.

'Finally,' Alec muttered as he slammed the door shut. 'Does this mean you two are gonna stop flirting every five fucking seconds?'

James slowly eased out of the kiss and grinned; Q looked thoroughly debauched, his hair sticking up from James' questing fingers, his lips swollen a bright, bright red.

Q blinked a few times before opening his eyes completely. Then, he smirked. 'Don't count on it, 006,' he drawled. 'Our behaviour annoys you, which gives me endless enjoyment.'

Alec swore and Q chuckled. This was going to be good; James could tell.

{oOo}

Alec found James sitting at the kitchen island in his small flat, a bottle of scotch to one side, a full glass clutched in one fist. James glanced up at him when he approached and grimaced. 'You found out who killed Elliot,' he said.

'Yeah,' Alec admitted.

'Well?' James asked.

Alec frowned and sat at a right angle to James, his fingers tapping a rhythm against the counter-top.

'Alec...' James growled.

Sighing, Alec leaned back. 'It was M.' James froze, his hand tightened around the glass, and his eyes darkened. 'James-'

'I knew it,' James interrupted. He threw back half his drink and topped up the glass before taking another sip. 'I fucking knew it.'

'I don't know how she found out,' Alec said. 'But I managed to get 008 to admit that he'd been sent to assassinate some fifteen-year-old kid in the foster system. He didn't know why, but he didn't question his orders. They came directly from M.'

James shook his head and closed his eyes. Alec could read the grief in the set of James' shoulders and the way his knuckles were going white as he squeezed his glass.

'It wasn't your fault, James,' Alec tried.

'Of course it was my fault!' James snapped. 'I brought him here! I got his papers! I must have left a trail, or fucked up, or-'

'James!' Alec interrupted. 'It's not your fault. You tried to give the kid a decent life!'

'He saved my life and I got him killed,' James muttered, his shoulders falling. 'He brought me food every day that O'Reilly had me. He offered himself up just so I could rest. He let O'Reilly-' James cut himself off, his mouth turning into a hard, thin line. 'I promised to protect him,' he muttered. 'And I got him killed.'

'It was M, not you,' Alec tried. 'She was the one who ordered his death.'

'Why?' James demanded. 'The kid was never going to tell anyone! He just wanted to be a normal fucking teenager!' James stood suddenly and threw his glass across the room. Alec didn't flinch, not even when James turned to slam his fist into the wall. 'Why the fuck would M do that?' James demanded. 'He was an innocent kid!'

'She couldn't take any chances,' Alec said. James rounded on him and the older man held his hands up. 'I didn't say that I agreed with her, James, just that I understand. She couldn't take any chances; Elliot knew too much about you, me and MI6. If he'd blabbed-'

'He wouldn't,' James muttered. 'He just wanted to be normal. He wanted to be goddamn safe.' He fell against the wall, a picture of dejection and... and loss. 'Christ,' James said. 'I can't do this any more, Alec.'

Alec frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'I just can't... every day, every week, I go out there and got shot and stabbed, and for what?' James demanded. 'For Queen and country? For M? I'm sick of screwing people over and watching people die just so that everybody else can be happy. I can't take a fucking break without Medical trying to analyse me afterwards. I can't question anything because M and the fucking arseholes who run MI6 are always fucking right. I'm left to rot if I make one goddamn mistake and... innocent people- kids like Elliot- are caught in the crossfires and executed just in fucking case! I... I can't...'

James' voice had been strong, hard, but he trailed off at the end, words cracking until he went silent.

Alec didn't say a word. He'd be a liar if he said he hadn't seen this coming. James had always gotten the hardest, the most emotionally demanding, missions; one of the downfalls of being the best double-oh. Each mission had taken its toll, had worn James down, until he was so rough around the edges that even MI6 could see that he was falling apart. Alec had just figured that James would get himself killed during a mission or fake his death and... disappear. He didn't think that James would tell him.

'I can't do this any more,' James repeated. He looked up at Alec, his eyes hard. 'I'm sorry, Alec, but I can't.'

Alec just nodded.

'I'm going to kill 008 and then I'm going to disappear,' James added. The absolute, deadly certainty in James' voice told Alec that he was in no way joking.

'MI6 will come after you if you do that,' Alec said. 'You could fake your death, you know. MI6 would leave you alone. Kill 008 and you'll be labelled a defector and terrorist.'

'I don't care,' James shrugged. 'I need weapons, anyway; tech, equipment. I'll take it before I disappear. I'd like to see MI6 find me.' He paused and looked Alec over. 'I don't want to kill you, Alec.'

Alec smiled slightly. He knew what James was thinking; as an agent of Her Royal Majesty's MI6, he should take James down now, haul him to MI6, and turn him in for defection. He should contact Security Section and M immediately; James had just told Alec that he was planning on killing a fellow double-oh.

Alec's training told him to take James down. But... he was James Bond. He was Alec's best friend, his brother. He was the only person at MI6 who Alec actually liked. Alec had never been close with any of the other double-ohs, and neither had James. After all they'd been through, could Alec really take James in? Could he kill James if it came to that? He'd be sent after the former 007, of that Alec had no doubt. The double-ohs always were when one of their own turned.

Alec glanced up; James hadn't looked away. Alec knew what he had to do... what he wanted to do.

'I'm coming with you,' Alec said.

Author's Note: Originally I had zero plans to actually reveal the reason James and Alec defected, and that was mainly because I couldn't think of a reason. Then I did, and my computer died, taking with it the back story I'd written. Thus, I had to re-write it and I hate what I came up with, because it's nowhere near as good as the original story that I can only just remember; it's just... eh, garbage, I think.

Anywho, there are probably be only two or three chapters left; Q, James and Alec escaping the country, then them set up in Greece.

Cheers,

{Dreamer}