[Fic] all the things you are -- part i + ii (a series of Mallory/Q drabbles)
Fandom: James Bond
Characters: Gareth Mallory, Q, James Bond
Pairing: Mallory/Q
Rating: PG
Word count: c.1200 (in this part)
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: From this promptcentral table. Ten drabbles in this post, one per prompt. Masterpost here.
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054: jam
Jam on toast and tea in the morning, and Q can see through the blinds from where he's standing in the kitchen sipping Earl Grey out of a teacup that isn't his. It's drizzling outside, and that's nothing new, but the view is considerably nicer than from the window in his own apartment.
M comes out, hair still wet from his shower, wearing only his trousers and undershirt. He steals a bite of Q's toast, and Q wipes away the smear of jam left on the corner of his mouth, smiling when M kisses his fingertips.
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035: kettle
For all that Q is a computer genius, he still insists on using an old-fashioned kettle. He likes the whistle when the water has boiled, the insistence to attend to it.
It's not long before one shows up in M's own kitchen -- because apparently, Q has spares -- and M suspects that if he had objected to its presence in his house, Q wouldn't have taken no for an answer anyway.
M learns to like the sound himself, to associate it with the pad of Q's feet across the hardwood floor, and the sigh of contentment that Q makes when he takes his first swallow of Earl Grey. When Q's not there, M still uses the whistling kettle. He likes it sitting on the stove, the old metal a little tarnished, a little piece of Q's home in M's.
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088: congratulations
Bond stops by M's office after a mission with his report file and a small gift bag, both of which he leaves on M's desk. When M raises a questioning eyebrow at him, he just says, rather cryptically, "Congratulations," smirks, and leaves.
M can't help but laugh when he looks inside the bag and finds the white mug with 'M' emblazoned on it, the little number in the corner.
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077: brother
"David," M says, when he opens the door, still in his pyjamas and robe. "What are you doing here?"
"Gareth," the man on the front step says, checking his watch. "I'm dropping in to see my big brother on a Sunday morning at eleven, by which time you're usually dressed." He pushes past M, who just grimaces, and shuts the door.
"David, you might want to--" M starts to say, but it's too late.
Q almost drops his spoon into his teacup, making the liquid splash over the edges a bit when David strolls into the kitchen and stops short when he takes in the sight of Q standing there in only a t-shirt and boxers.
"I didn't know we were having guests," Q says, glaring at M, who shrugs apologetically, and Q goes off to the bedroom to put some trousers on.
"Well, well, well," David says, a grin spreading over his face. M sighs, and starts making himself a cup of coffee.
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018: unfortunate
"David was quite nice," Q says, "even if it is a little unfortunate that I was only in my pants when I met him."
M ignores the pointed look that Q shoots him. "He's something of a force of nature. And at least you were wearing a shirt." He adds, "He liked you."
"I should hope so, despite a surprising first impression."
"I've found caught him in much worse situations," M says, waving a hand. The then he makes a face. "The others will like you too. Karen will probably try and steal you away."
Q leans against M and loops an arm around his neck. "I'll have you know that I'm a catch."
"I suppose you are," M says, and kisses him.
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067: work
They'd realized quite early on that trying to enforce any kind of rule against sex in the workplace was not going to happen. It's a risk, but one that they apparently don't have the restraint to stop taking, judging from the amount of times the door to M's office is locked and their clothes end up on the floor.
Things don't change much at work -- they're still both dedicated to their jobs, and if anything, they understand better than anyone else could about how their responsibilities could affect their relationship. They can still work together, they're still professional, and they know that their relationship is best kept secret, even if they don't like it.
But there are some changes that are inevitable. M can't help the way that he worries, even though Q never goes into the field, and sometimes Q can't help thinking that he's not worth the risk to M's reputation and his career if they're found out.
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022: hardback
Just as Q's oddities worm their way among M's things -- the kettle at first, and then a variety of chipped mugs, and a porcelain figurine of a cat -- there's a slowly growing collection of M's hardbacks in Q's flat. They find their place among Q's worn paperbacks, neat and taken care of but well read, spines cracked and pages turned many times.
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058: glance
That's how it starts, with one look that turns into many more. Weeks and months of looking then turning away, and they barely speak, but they don't need words.
M can stop Q in his tracks with a simple look, eyes locked from across a room until something interrupts and Q has to tear his gaze away. Even after that, Q knows that M's still watching him, eyes tracking his movements, barely paying attention to the report he's looking over.
Then Q starts returning those looks, and they're brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-it glances, but M catches them every time, as well as everything that Q's saying with them, and soon they tire of exchanging looks and nothing else.
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062: brush
Q explains it to M like this.
"Precision in coding is important and accuracy in equations is essential, but if one has no creativity, no imagination, no ability to think beyond the numbers..." Q trails off, drawing his brush across the canvas, a bright streak amongst the grey and white. "It's why I'm so good at what I do. I think of things that no one else can, I learn and adjust accordingly. I'm not restricted by one certain way of thinking."
M takes the brush from his hand and puts it on the table, kisses him long and deep.
Q doesn't really understand why M wants that painting later, but he lets him have it anyway.
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032: gray
"I'm too old for you," M says once.
"Then it's a good thing that I'm mature past my years," Q says, flippantly, but that look in M's eyes doesn't go away.
He starts finding grey in his hair, and it's not unsurprising or unexpected, but it only adds to the sinking feeling in M's stomach, when he remembers that Q could have so much more than a scarred old man.
Characters: Gareth Mallory, Q, James Bond
Pairing: Mallory/Q
Rating: PG
Word count: c.1200 (in this part)
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: From this promptcentral table. Ten drabbles in this post, one per prompt. Masterpost here.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
054: jam
Jam on toast and tea in the morning, and Q can see through the blinds from where he's standing in the kitchen sipping Earl Grey out of a teacup that isn't his. It's drizzling outside, and that's nothing new, but the view is considerably nicer than from the window in his own apartment.
M comes out, hair still wet from his shower, wearing only his trousers and undershirt. He steals a bite of Q's toast, and Q wipes away the smear of jam left on the corner of his mouth, smiling when M kisses his fingertips.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
035: kettle
For all that Q is a computer genius, he still insists on using an old-fashioned kettle. He likes the whistle when the water has boiled, the insistence to attend to it.
It's not long before one shows up in M's own kitchen -- because apparently, Q has spares -- and M suspects that if he had objected to its presence in his house, Q wouldn't have taken no for an answer anyway.
M learns to like the sound himself, to associate it with the pad of Q's feet across the hardwood floor, and the sigh of contentment that Q makes when he takes his first swallow of Earl Grey. When Q's not there, M still uses the whistling kettle. He likes it sitting on the stove, the old metal a little tarnished, a little piece of Q's home in M's.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
088: congratulations
Bond stops by M's office after a mission with his report file and a small gift bag, both of which he leaves on M's desk. When M raises a questioning eyebrow at him, he just says, rather cryptically, "Congratulations," smirks, and leaves.
M can't help but laugh when he looks inside the bag and finds the white mug with 'M' emblazoned on it, the little number in the corner.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
077: brother
"David," M says, when he opens the door, still in his pyjamas and robe. "What are you doing here?"
"Gareth," the man on the front step says, checking his watch. "I'm dropping in to see my big brother on a Sunday morning at eleven, by which time you're usually dressed." He pushes past M, who just grimaces, and shuts the door.
"David, you might want to--" M starts to say, but it's too late.
Q almost drops his spoon into his teacup, making the liquid splash over the edges a bit when David strolls into the kitchen and stops short when he takes in the sight of Q standing there in only a t-shirt and boxers.
"I didn't know we were having guests," Q says, glaring at M, who shrugs apologetically, and Q goes off to the bedroom to put some trousers on.
"Well, well, well," David says, a grin spreading over his face. M sighs, and starts making himself a cup of coffee.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
018: unfortunate
"David was quite nice," Q says, "even if it is a little unfortunate that I was only in my pants when I met him."
M ignores the pointed look that Q shoots him. "He's something of a force of nature. And at least you were wearing a shirt." He adds, "He liked you."
"I should hope so, despite a surprising first impression."
"I've found caught him in much worse situations," M says, waving a hand. The then he makes a face. "The others will like you too. Karen will probably try and steal you away."
Q leans against M and loops an arm around his neck. "I'll have you know that I'm a catch."
"I suppose you are," M says, and kisses him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
067: work
They'd realized quite early on that trying to enforce any kind of rule against sex in the workplace was not going to happen. It's a risk, but one that they apparently don't have the restraint to stop taking, judging from the amount of times the door to M's office is locked and their clothes end up on the floor.
Things don't change much at work -- they're still both dedicated to their jobs, and if anything, they understand better than anyone else could about how their responsibilities could affect their relationship. They can still work together, they're still professional, and they know that their relationship is best kept secret, even if they don't like it.
But there are some changes that are inevitable. M can't help the way that he worries, even though Q never goes into the field, and sometimes Q can't help thinking that he's not worth the risk to M's reputation and his career if they're found out.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
022: hardback
Just as Q's oddities worm their way among M's things -- the kettle at first, and then a variety of chipped mugs, and a porcelain figurine of a cat -- there's a slowly growing collection of M's hardbacks in Q's flat. They find their place among Q's worn paperbacks, neat and taken care of but well read, spines cracked and pages turned many times.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
058: glance
That's how it starts, with one look that turns into many more. Weeks and months of looking then turning away, and they barely speak, but they don't need words.
M can stop Q in his tracks with a simple look, eyes locked from across a room until something interrupts and Q has to tear his gaze away. Even after that, Q knows that M's still watching him, eyes tracking his movements, barely paying attention to the report he's looking over.
Then Q starts returning those looks, and they're brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-it glances, but M catches them every time, as well as everything that Q's saying with them, and soon they tire of exchanging looks and nothing else.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
062: brush
Q explains it to M like this.
"Precision in coding is important and accuracy in equations is essential, but if one has no creativity, no imagination, no ability to think beyond the numbers..." Q trails off, drawing his brush across the canvas, a bright streak amongst the grey and white. "It's why I'm so good at what I do. I think of things that no one else can, I learn and adjust accordingly. I'm not restricted by one certain way of thinking."
M takes the brush from his hand and puts it on the table, kisses him long and deep.
Q doesn't really understand why M wants that painting later, but he lets him have it anyway.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
032: gray
"I'm too old for you," M says once.
"Then it's a good thing that I'm mature past my years," Q says, flippantly, but that look in M's eyes doesn't go away.
He starts finding grey in his hair, and it's not unsurprising or unexpected, but it only adds to the sinking feeling in M's stomach, when he remembers that Q could have so much more than a scarred old man.