Chapter Text
Its six thirty in the morning when the smell of a fresh cup of tea wakes him. Its the alluring aroma of earl grey with a touch of milk and if he's lucky a gentle dollop of honey. The cruel mistress is lulling him slowly out of his much needed sleep. However despite how lovely the tea smells it shouldn't be there as there should be no one there to make it for him. The young man that went by the alias of Q for MI6 lived alone. There was no need for a room mate when one made the money he did for what he contributed to his Queen and Country.
A lanky arm reached out blindly, grabbing for what should have been his weapon as normal protocol would dictate for having an intruder in ones home. Instead he made a blind grab for his glasses while his face was squashed into his pillow. The chuckle he heard was familiar but with being half asleep he couldn't distinguish who exactly it was. He'd been up for the last 48 hours tracking a double oh through a mess in Dubai not to mention he had to find time to do his budgets before then.
"James," Q groaned softly, "Its too early for this.. kindly fuck off and let yourself out" He grumbled, giving up for his quest for his glasses and opted to letting his arm hang limp.
"James? Whose James?" A slightly amused voice asked.
It took an embarrassingly long amount of time for his brain to connect the dots and a realization to hit him. Shit! Bloody fucking shit!
"Dad!" Q yelped, bolting out of bed and scrambling for his glasses. His hair was wild, sticking up every which way as he pushed the frames onto his face to make the world return to focus. Sitting up in bed, he was glad he had decided to sleep in his pj's rather then naked as it would have put ideas into the mans head.
"Hamish" Q's Dad chuckled still, seeming very pleased with himself that he could still make his boy scramble. Having been a very quiet boy at the start, his dad had taken great pride in riling him up in every sort of way to get him to loosen up. However make him angry and you were quick to remember that he had been in the military once. He'd seen him put his father; who was a brilliant but difficult man, into his place many times growing up.
"Come on, up you get" John grinned, his blue eyes crinkling around the edges. "I'm making some breakfast" He patted his shoulder before turning to head out of the bedroom. "You can tell me about this James while I finish it up"
Once the man was out of the room, Q sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. He was running on far to little sleep for this; not that he didn't like his dad visiting. He rather have his dad then his father snooping around his flat while he was sleeping. Pushing his quilt back, he climbed out of bed and stretched tiredly. Fixing his shirt and sleep pants, Q scooped up his still hot mug and sipped it as he made his way to the door. Ah, Earl Grey with a dash of milk and slight dollop of honey, his dad made the best tea. He missed it actually, no one; not even his assistant could make tea taste as good as his dad. The man had years of practice mind you for being a man with a great love for a cuppa.
Running a hand through his mess of dark curls, he stopped in the doorway of his kitchen and watched for a moment. With both hands wrapped aroudn the mug, he felt like he was a kid all over again. His dad still carried himself well for being in his sixties, blond hair now grey but not thinning. Ever the military stance and grace, steady doctors hands and the kindness to soften even the most frigid hearts.
Walking into the kitchen, he nosed his dads temple fondly and set his tea mug down. He smiled at the pleased hum he got in return for the affection before being handed a plate with toast on it. Sausages were simmering on the pan as his dad cracked a few eggs into the second.
"Where did these come from?" Q asked, eying the sausages, knowing that those and the eggs hadn't been in his fridge before. The toast yes as it was a regular Watson-Holmes staple but besides that and jam the young man lived off of take out. With working odd hours and lengths of time there was hardly a point to keep anything that could spoil.
"I stopped by Tesco's on my way over, knowing you wouldn't have anything decent here" John teased. " No wonder you're not wasting away" He made of point of prodding the young hacker int he ribs. Earning a soft grunt in return, John resumed tending tot he food.
"Before you ask my BMI is still within a healthy standard and I eat at least twice a day" Q sighed, moving to grab up his tea. What he wouldn't tell his dad was that the two meals a day had been an arrangement of either his assistant or Eve. After passing out at work he had found that his assistant took it upon himself to leave a sandwich on his desk or work top if he was too engrossed in something and Eve would do much the same. Then at home some days he came home to find Bond sitting on the couch with take out; having broke into his flat again.
"Good, should be three but its leaps and bounds ahead of your father" John sighed, shaking his head a little. "Are you sleeping?" He asked next, giving him his standard serious once over.
Q knew he looked like shit, but he hadn't been able to delegate to his people as it had been a very delicate situation. It had been a money laundering and drug ring that had been passing its wares between Britain and Dubai that had been cocked up by double of five. It had taken hours upon hours to get him out safely then disable and destroy what he could after sending in double oh three to assist. However even before working for MI-6 sleeping hadn't always been an easy task for him.
"I... try?" Q smiled uneasily, knowing that wasn't the answer his dad wanted to hear. Best not to lie, it only made things worse. Watching the lines of his dads shoulders, he sighed and took a noisy bite of toast in hopes to reassure him.
His childhood had been less then conventional and his dad wasn't even biologically his dad but that meant nothing to him. Sherlock Holmes was his father by blood and his mother was someone they never spoke of. Q knew enough growing up that he wasn't to ask, despite having lived with her till he was about five or six. The story was his Uncle Mycroft had come across his existence by chance and had alerted his father right away. Apparently to everyone's surprise had taken him in from his mother to raise him. John right away became the comforting hand his father didn't always have and John turned into Dad very quickly. It never changed.
"Who is James?" His dad suddenly asked, putting the spatula down long enough to take up his tea for a sip. Coughing around a bite of toast and jam, Q looked at his dad as he set his plate down. Sucking a bit of jam off his thumb, he rolled his eyes at the questioning look he was receiving and sighed.
"No one. Now is father joining us today or is it just the two of us?" Q switched topics quickly, not wanting to try and explain who Bond was.
"Hamish....." John's voice had an edge of warning to it.
"Just a friend from work Dad, I'm far to busy for anything else...." Q sighed, rubbing his face again tiredly. " How did Father used to put it... I'm married to my work"
"Yes, he used to say that but look where that got him?" John frowned, "And once he gave up on that notion you can see what he gained... you shouldn't live like that"
"Dad... I get to see you what... once, twice a month if that? Can we not get into a row over my social life? Your starting to sound like poor Mrs Hudson" Q teased with a grin, earning a snort from his dad. Ah Mrs. Hudson, god rest her kind soul; she had been such a lovely lady when he was a child. Took him to school when his parents were too busy and taught him things his fathers couldn't. She had died a few days after his sixteenth birthday.
"Fine.. just this time Hamish, but I swear you'll be wanting to tell me first before your Father figures it out" John warned before starting to do the finishing touche son their breakfast. "Your father might grace us with his presence for dinner but till then you're stuck with me lad... now go set the table and we'll eat" He smiled, gesturing at him with the spatula.
Nodding, Q went about getting out forks and knives before heading out to his small table. Q liked to keep his life and MI-6 separate from his life with his family. It kept them safe, though he knew they were never ones to play it safe themselves. Only Uncle Mycroft knew exactly what it was that he did as he was a big player in the government. His parents however knew he worked for a restricted part of the government, just not his exact title. Father would be torn between being displeased and proud he supposed. Proud because he was the youngest Quartermaster MI-6 has ever seen but displeased over how much risk he put himself in.
In the mists of clearing off the table, the young brunette could hear his mobile ringing from his bedroom. Lifting his head, he looked over his shoulder at his Dad, who nodded in understanding.
"I'll only be a moment" Q called, heading back into his room. It was part of his few days off to recover from his long stint at the office so it couldn't have been for much. Grabbing the phone, he swiped it to answer and went about making this short as possible.
He was half way finish explaining something to his assistant when there was a shout from in the other room. Looking up from his work ipad; he had booted it up to show his assistant where the specs to something were, and looked towards the half open bedroom door.
"August.... let me call you back..." Q murmured, quickly hanging up despite the others protesting. Setting down the ipad, he headed out towards the kitchen, assuming his father had dropped something or knocked a bit of equipment over.
"Are you alright in there?" Q called, rounding the corner to find what he definitely hadn't wanted to see.
His dad, Browning drawn and trained on James, whose own Walter was drawn and pointed towards John. Both were staring each other down, not moving and inch or wavering from their position. Quickly figuring out the situation, Q assumed Bond had done his normal habit of breaking into his flat for a visit on his time off and had found someone unfamiliar int he flat. Now being the dullard he tended to be on such situations, drew his gun and would ask questions later. This protectiveness the agent had a habit of displaying towards the Quartermaster was bordering annoying and troublesome.
"Both of you, put the guns down..." Q sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. A headache was steadily brewing as Bond shot him a questioning look. His dad spared him a look but kept his arm steady in pointing the firearm at the intruder. To him it just appeared that some man had just casually broken into his sons apartment.
"Hamish, you have five seconds to explain what the bloody hell is going on!" John demanded, his tone terse.
"Hamish?" Bond questioned, an arched eyebrow and smirk slapped over his features. Q winced when Bond uttered his name, this wasn't supposed to happen.
"James, this is my dad Doctor John Hamish Watson, former Captain in the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.... Dad this is James Bond, Commander int he British Navy who now works for the same fraction of the Government that I do..." Q explained in a way to introduce the two. "Now can we please put the weapons away?"
Slowly both men lowered their guns and tucked them away not after eying each other up. His dads look was more of a 'I don't trust you near my baby boy you arse, try anything and I'll shoot your cock off' wheres Bonds was more of a 'I have respect for you and your son, I mean no harm but I'd like to see you try old man'. Dear god this was going to be a very long day.
"Now then.... I'll throw some more food on and we'll have breakfast together? Unless you've eaten already James?" John questioned, looking at his son then over at James. That was one thing his dad was always good at, adapting quickly to unusual circumstances. So inviting James to breakfast was like inviting a killer to tea, though really there wasn't that much of a difference in James case.
To the mans credit, James looked to Q first before nodding, saying something about not having eaten yet. Q's dad nodded stiffly before turning back to the stove and went about making the extra food. The tension in the room cleared momentarily, though there was still some heavy confusion.
Sucking in a quick breath, Q took Bond by the forearm and dragged him out of the kitchen. Now that the tense situation was somewhat over, Bond looked genuinely amused over it now. Q was livid as Bond wasn't even supposed to be in his flat in the first place, let alone at a time when Bond would know he would be sleeping still.
"So your name is Hamish Watson?" James asks with a quirk of his lips, allowing himself to be dragged into the living room. Q had wanted his dad to be somewhat out of ear shot some of this conversation.
"Its Hamish Watson-Holmes actually, but what the hell are you doing here?" Q hissed, sounding less then pleased over this. Bond only smirked and crowded Q slightly, enough to make the young hacker flush ever so slightly. He could feel the mans breath just ghosting against his cheek as he leaned in close.
"Well, Hamish Watson-Holmes I came to check up on you since Eve commented that you looked rough after your last mission and had a few days off" James smirked, reaching out to fix a stray curl of Q's. " Are those the legendary pajamas I was told about? They're quite fetching on you" James practically purred, his hand moving to run his thumb and forefinger on the hem of Q's white cotton shirt. The devious thumb just barely brushed against the v of his hips where his pajama pants had slipped slightly.
"Just because you know my name doesn't mean you're allowed to use it double oh seven" Q snapped, feeling even more peevish now that he was being toyed with. "And that is the question you ask me with my dad in the next room?" The brunette near hissed, earning a dual raised brows and two hands up where he can see them in a mock surrender. The tense hold in his shoulders dropped slightly when Bond took a few steps back to give him some breathing room.
"Apologies Q" James murmured, lowering his hands then shifted them into his jean pockets. The man was dressed down surprisingly, it was one of the few times Q had seen him without his standard suit. A smart pair of jeans and a expensive looking button up coat and scarf. "Though can I assume since your dad probably doesn't know what Q stands for and shouldn't is it safe to say calling you Hamish is a safer bet? As calling you Q would probably raise to many questions?"
Damn, he had a point but Q honestly didn't want to admit it out loud of course. He really didn't want his dad to hear the code name as if his father heard he would put the pieces together much too quickly. This was such a bloody disaster; he honestly couldn't think this could go any worse. Everything was supposed to be kept separate!
"Don't get used to it Bond. Call me Hamish any time after this and I will make sure every piece of equipment I give you explodes on you" He poked the man int he chest for emphasis before heading back towards the kitchen. When he didn't hear Bond follow right away, he paused and looked over his shoulder at him. "Quit staring at my arse you tit, come eat breakfast then bugger off" He frowned, disappearing back into the kitchen, hearing Bond chuckling behind him.
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Sitting down to breakfast had been a very awkward affair at the start, his Dad eying Bond with a heavy sense of distrust. This was a prime example why whenever Q dared to date anyone he didn't really bring them home. Not that him and Bond were dating but it sure seemed like his Dad thought so. Despite explaining to him that they couldn't explain in what manner they worked together with, that they were strictly friends and co workers.
"So is it normal for co workers to pick the locks of your flat and pop in for a visit?" John asked, taking a pointed bite out of his toast. Bonds amused snort didn't help matters and Q just wanted to bang his head against the table.
What he didn't account for was Bonds incredible charm and the wonders it could do when applied at the right moments. So when he emerged showered and dressed for the day he was surprised to see them chuckling over something or other. It never failed that his dad liked sharing stories of his times when he would dash about with Q's father doing detective work. Not that they don't consult still, but with Lestrade retired it was more client based now. Fathers trust fund and Q's subtle addition to his dads army pension they lived quite comfortable if there were no cases.
The two fell silent when Q stopped int he door way, checking his e-mails on his work mobile. Since he had cut his conversation with his assistant short, he'd been sent a couple e-mails to review. "Please don't stop on my account" Q called over to the two, not leaving the door way yet.
"This has to be the first time I haven't seen you in one of your bloody awful cardigans" Bond piped up, causing Q to roll his eyes. He was hardly dressed up so he didn't see the big deal in what he was wearing but Bond wouldn't stop looking at him. He was dressed in a white and black graphic shirt under a slim fitted dark grey zipper jacket over a pair of dark washed jeans. Everything he owned for outside of work wear was close fitted much like his fathers since their lanky build was hardly one someone could easily buy off the rack. His work jumpers were as he figured if he was going to get kidnapped in something it was going to be coming or going from work. So there was no reason to wear his usual attire as he was on his time off with his Dad; plus his other jumpers were in the wash.
"You should see the lad without his glasses" John laughed, raising from his spot at the table and walked over to his son. "You remind me so much of your father sometimes.. Holmes and their damned coat collars and cheek bones" He teased, tugging at said collar to draw Q's attention away from his mobile. Huffing amusingly, Q pushed his glasses up his nose and gave his dad a fond smile before standing away from the door frame. His dad patted his cheek gently before heading tot he door to put his shoes on for them to leave.
"So Bond not that it wasn't delightful to have you over, we're heading out so...." Q gestured, frowning as James got up from his seat and slinked over. The young hacker was glad for this to be over so that he could fall into his regular routine with his dad. It wasn't that he didn't like Bond or didn't like having him around, Q was just looking forward to an uncomplicated day with his Dad. He wasn't sure why Bond felt the need to drop by unannounced at his flat at strange hours or drive him home even when it isn't late.
"So? Its rude to up and kick a guest out" Bond rumbled, resting a hand on the door frame just above Q's head. This crowing his personal space was starting to get a little uncomfortable, especially the looks he was receiving.
"Being considered a guest implies that you were invited and not having broken into someones flat" Q retorted, standing his ground. If he backed up now it would mean Bond had won and there was no way he was going to allow that. He can smell the cologne the other had put on this morning, like the smell of fog after a gentle rain; clean and fresh. Ah, he was getting distracted and Bond was getting too close.
"Is that so? If you don't want me to break in then why don't you improve your security? Admit it, you enjoy my visits" Bond murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"One would have to have time to do that... I'm always too busy cleaning up your messes to do that" Q snarked, pleased by the huff he got in return.
"Boys are you coming? We haven't got all day!" Q heard his father call. Boys; plural, meaning more then one. Hazel green hues turned to look up more at the agent and glared at him in pure annoyance.
"Oh, did I mention your Dad invited me along?" Bond smirked before pushing himself away from Q, heading towards the front door. There was a self satisfied swagger to his walk; no he wasn't staring at his arse thank you very much, and it annoyed him to no end. Gripping his hair in his hands, the young Quartermaster tugged at it as he pressed his eyes closed tightly. What a bloody disaster!
"Hurry up Hamish your dad is already heading down to flag a cab!" Bonds overly sweet tones made their way from the door way.
Fucking Bond.