Chapter Text
Q was not exactly surprise to find Moneypenny and Tanner loitering outside his door when he hopped out of the cab. As far as he knew, two people had access to his tracker's data – M and Mycroft. The fact that Moneypenny and Tanner accessed it via M seemed reasonable. There had been talk about injecting him with Smart Blood, but M had deemed it too much oversight and its usage would be better spared for the double-o programs whose data needed to be tracked on their missions.
The hefty price tag on each injection of Smart Blood also helped deter things.
“Been waiting long?” Q asked as he tapped in the code for his front door before tapping a different code for the main door. It buzzed and he opened the heavy door with a small grunt of effort and held it open for Moneypenny to step in. Tanner made a noise of surprise as he took the brunt of the door's swing onto his shoulder as it started to close.
“Sorry,” Q called back. “Security measures...”
“It's fine,” Tanner replied a little faintly before the door slammed shut behind him. A secondary click indicated the magnetic locks sliding into place.
“Not really,” M's assistant toed her shoes off as did Tanner and the two of them headed into the living room, discarding their jackets onto one of the loveseats.
One of Q's cats, Schrodinger, immediately pounced on the seat to sniff at the jackets before leaping off and wandering away. A curious chirrup from Nikola, his other cat, announced her presence before she twined between his legs – clearly looking for food.
“Yes, yes...food first,” Q didn't bother with his own jacket as he rummaged around his cabinets for the wet food and set it out to the cats' delight. They scrambled from where they were and devoured the food as he threw the tin into the recycling and washed his hands. Seeing that his cats were happily eating, he turned to his other two guests.
“I hope I don't have to feed either one of you,” he quipped with a raised eyebrow.
Tanner laughed quietly while Moneypenny smiled broadly.
“Dr. Taylor managed to modify to the cure to ease symptoms at night. A couple of others who've taken the new cure showed improvement sleep.” Moneypenny held up a small hard case. “Want to try it?”
“I have a choice?”
“No, but it's the illusion of one,” the double-o known as 008 replied blithely.
Q sighed and shed his jacket, hanging it up with his scarf. Nikola chirruped and eyed the scarf's tassels as it dangled enticingly near her bowl. After a few seconds, she turned back and continued to eat – hunger was a great motivator.
Q rolled up his sleeves and bared his forearm to Moneypenny who quickly injected him with the modified cocktail. Q grimaced and rubbed the spot where the needle went in. The initial injection of the replicated cure had been given to those identified as caught in the anthrax cloud from the explosion. It was a temporary measure as Dr. Taylor worked on its modifications.
The initial injection was enough to block some of the more severe side effects of anthrax and to let conventional antibiotics do their work – but it was not perfect. Q's own injuries had compounded some of his body's ability to fight off the infection as did the course of antibiotics he had been force-fed by Lyutsifer Safin when he was at the facility.
He had been given a second dose of the temporary cure right before he was discharged by Medical with instructions to not to exert himself since his ribs were still healing.
At the same time it had been the start of his official suspension. Since then, he spent the last two weeks suffering from the very unpleasant side effect of nightmarish and vivid dreams. Moneypenny was the one to discover him huddled on his loveseat, wild-eyed and jumping at shadows three days after he was discharged with the cats vocally meowing their displeasure at not being fed for those days. She claimed it was for a quick welfare check because his tracker did not report him moving a single inch in that time period. He vaguely remembered her calling in a report to M and Medical.
He did not know what else they had given him, but it at least calmed some part of his mind that made him jump at shadows – but definitely did not remove the nightmares he had.
“You're my keeper for tonight?”
“Unless you had plans of staying elsewhere?”
“Actually...sort of,” Q rolled his sleeves down. “Sherlock's flat. Was going to ask M if I have permission to use my laptop for some freelance work I've picked up for Scotland Yard.” It was not exactly the truth, but neither was it a lie.
“You know, anything hacked may not be able to entered into evidence for the courts...” Moneypenny raised an eyebrow.
“But it can nudge and given hints so that the evidence can be found,” Q shrugged.
“Let me ask M,” Tanner did not seem too bothered and stepped away to call their superior.
Moneypenny snapped the case shut, bringing Q's eyes on her. She smiled at him in a manner that would have been conversational except Q saw the familiar shark's glint that was in every double-o's eye whenever they found something interesting to latch onto. “Bond's due to return to London later tonight...”
He blinked at her and raised an eyebrow – the universal sign for: 'so?'
“Is there something going on between the two of you?”
He wrinkled his brow. “Should there be? I think he's aware that I'm suspended this time around instead of bursting into my flat...”
Moneypenny made a humming noise in the back of her throat. “He seemed...different...after he visited you three weeks ago.”
Bond had been gone when Q had woken up the next day after their rather revelatory conversation. The agent had not returned or lurked nearby even after Q had been discharged, leading him to believe that M had sent Bond on another mission.
Q shook his head just as Tanner came back, saving him from answering her question. “Tanner...”
“As long as you keep the keystroke logger and screen capture program running, M is allowing it. Who knows, maybe the Yarders can get off of our backs for all the times we get involved in London proper.”
Scotland Yard had really not been happy to be involved in the CNS Building fiasco along with dealing with Blofeld's helicopter and crime scene. Though national security agencies had taken over most of the investigation, it had involved a lot of the Yard's resources to make sure personnel who worked on the Joint Intelligence Taskforce transition between MI5, MI6 and Nine Eyes were not masquerading as terrorists or members of a secret international organization.
There was also the whole Max Denbigh, Richard Brook and James Moriarty connection to deal with – the Yard's own black eye for their faulty investigation into Sherlock and discrediting. Sherlock had discreetly texted Q some of the more...kinder things the Yarders were talking about MI6 and the double-o program's penchant for blowing up things even in home base.
“I'll text if there are any symptoms,” Q replied as he moved over to the desk that was his home office. Most of it had been stripped of Q branch technology, per his suspension, but he still had his personal laptop and one to sandbox. All of the gadgets he had been tinkering with for Q branch at home had been taken away. Gathering the laptop and power cable along with a bag that he carried them in, including some of the needed drives and sundry items he used for hacking, he was packed in short order.
“You're really taking to this whole suspension thing, aren't you?” Moneypenny murmured and he glanced at her.
“I'd rather not go to Belmarsh or Sherrinford,” he replied calmly and saw a dusting of pink tinge her cheeks.
“Sorry, that was thoughtless-”
“No harm 008,” he replied lightly and saw her purse her lips a little, still embarrassed by her faux pas.
Tanner cleared his throat, trying to defuse the awkward tension. “Well then, I think we're all done here. Let us know if there are any symptoms, would you, Q?”
“I will,” Q nodded before walking the short distance to his front door and pressing a button built into the frame to unlock the magnetic locks.
He watched with a bit of faint amusement as Tanner pushed heavily on the inner door to open it before Moneypenny followed him out.
“Moneypenny,” he called out, making her and Tanner pause and turn as the outer door opened. “You pick the lunch spot for this Saturday. Text me.”
The smile that flashed across the woman's face was brilliant and she clearly looked relieved that she had been forgiven. She waved the case at him and headed out the door with Tanner.
Q was left alone for a moment as he heard the distant sounds of London filter into his flat. He shook himself out of his blank thoughts and moved back into the kitchen area, swiping the bottle of antibiotics that he still had to take. It was a two month course and Q made a mental note to perhaps pick up some packaged sandwiches from the local Tescos before returning to Sherlock's flat. It was bad enough that he had to take antibiotics to clear the anthrax's spores completely from his system, but for two months and knowing that his brother barely had any decent food in his fridge except for experiments...
He supposed Dr. Watson and little Rosie got their nutrition from Mrs. Hudson who was clearly the more sensible one.