goodfellow | Bond/Q

Bond/Q

Quentin had told Robin in no uncertain terms that he wasn't to try to help with his stalker situation. So, fine. Robin had set upon a course of action that was more to protect himself. And if it happened to help Quentin too, that was only a byproduct.

It was, of course, not cheap to hire a pixie full time to tail someone. Especially since pixies as a general rule weren't fond of pucks. But enough money could get pretty much anything done, Robin had found. And Terrence might be a genius, the kind who could have spotted a human tail or technological monitoring a mile away, he just didn't have the frame of reference to suspect an intelligent creature the size of a mosquito hanging around.

The pixie, whose name was Azri, had reported to Robin a couple of times, so he knew about the safe house, and he knew about Quentin's friend-or-bodyguard-maybe-lover whom Azri referred to as "the taller one."

Though the report today was more disturbing. Azri came streaking into Robin's penthouse, babbling about how Terrence had grabbed "the shorter one." Robin got a description of where they'd gone and sent Azri back. With promises of a bonus.

He wasn't stupid enough to try to handle this himself. So he got in his car and went to where Azri had told him the safe house was.

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Bond was attacking the computer set up, doing his best to see what the cameras had caught. Not much, that was the truth of it. Terrance had worked his magic and there was looped video, there was frozen footage, and there was Bond on the street, left to play the fool as the villain made off with Q. Bond had tracked them but it wasn't long before there was no signal to follow.

"Bloody fucking hell," he swore to himself, and then there was a knock at the door. Terrance taunting him, no doubt. Bond opened the door not sure what to expect.

He surely didn't expect Rob-from-Tesco.

"You," he said flatly, then grabbed the man by the lapels and hauled him inside and pushed him up against the wall. "What are you doing here?"

Robin probably shouldn't have been surprised by this reaction.

His reaction, in turn, was exceedingly calm. "You know, I won't lie, after meeting you I might have imagined something not unlike this scenario, but it was a lot sexier in my head. Now, I understand you've lost something. If you let me down I'll help you retrieve it."

Bond did not trust lightly or easily, but he could recognize when he had an opportunity. Terrance could have sent the man to taunt him further, to put him on the wrong trail, but he wasn't about to simply kill Rob and be done with it.

"How do you know what's going on?" he demanded, not letting him off the wall.

"Because Quentin told me to stay out of it so obviously I did not," Robin said. He narrowed his eyes a little. "Seriously. You are wrinkling my suit. Let me down."

Then he sighed. "You can disarm me if you like. You'll find two knives and one larger blade."

Bond did just that, letting him down and then divesting him of the blades. He kept one in hand.

But not everyone called Q 'Quentin'. In fact, very few people did, and those few knew him- as well as once could know him, Bond imagined. Rob could not have chosen his words better.

"What do you know?" he said, not outright threatening the man with his own knife...not outright.

Robin wiped his hands down his trousers to straighten out the wrinkles. If Bond knew anything about blades he would recognize them all as quite old. And that the smaller knives, one was silver and one was iron.

"To begin with," he said, "I am going to assume that because Quentin knows something of the supernatural world that you do as well. Because the answer is that I have been paying a great deal of money to employ a pixie full time to tail your psychopath Terrance."

"Why would you do that?" Bond demanded. He was a bit too upset by the whole ordeal to have it in him to peice together why someone Q had fucked was involved more deeply than being a question mark on a grainy photo.

"Because, first of all, said psychopath took an interest in me and if there's anything I'm particularly concerned about it's protecting my own magnificent ass," Robin said. "And second, despite all the oh no I don't want your help I'll only feel guilty if you get dragged in blah blah blah, I was pretty sure that my kind of assistance would be necessary at some point. And see, I was right. Now are we going to go fetch him or what?"

"As if I haven't been trying to do just tha," Bond said dryly. He turned then to go back to the computer, doing his best to see what the cameras might turn up. What he needed was help...but he'd prefer help from someone he had a modicum of trust toward, not some stranger fromt he wine aisle.

Still...

"What do you know?"

Robin stared at him for a second and then said, exasperated, "Zeus' great hairy balls, I know where he is. Why do you think I'm here, just for some wall shoving foreplay?"

He pulled out his phone and showed a dot on a map. "There. And once we get there my inside man can pop out and tell us exactly what's going on inside."

This was exactly how easy it was supposed to have been. The tracker was supposed to have been fool proof. Apparently it was good fortune to have Rob as accidental back up.

"Then we've no time to waste," he said as he checked his gun, holstered it, then grabbed another to slip in his pocket.

Robin had actually thought Bond might argue about him coming along, and was glad he didn't because he would have anyway. "I'd like my sword back," he said pleasantly.

"Have it," Bond said tightly, making ready to go. He was ready to fly, if need be...if only he could.

"We'll take my car," he said. It was a new one since Terrance had exploded the one he'd been driving outside of hotel 41.

"Well...hurry up," he scolded, champing at the bit to leave.

Robin had replaced the blades in a moment, and then said, "All right, we'll take your car." He didn't feel like arguing, and he had a feeling that Bond had a fast car and was a fast driver. He pushed ahead of him and climbed into the passenger seat.

Bond slid behind the wheel and they were off, racing out of the city. Terrance had had time to spirit Q away and their destination was well into the countryside. Getting out of London itself proved to be a headache.

"Tell me your story," Bond prompted, thinking that maybe if Rob talked then he wouldn't get caught up in a spiral of scenarios running through his head. "Better yet, tell me what you know about...Quentin."

Quentin. Ridiculous.

Robin glanced at him. "I know he works for MI-6," he said. "I assume you're one of his co-workers." He very nearly said nice job with the stalker but bit it back out of a sense of self preservation.

"I assume that's what you meant," he added. "Not like, if I know how he likes his tea and what his favorite sexual position is."

Bond was not charmed in the least by the man's flippancy, though right now he was far too preoccupied with the mission than addressing the remarks. So he chose to ignore them.

"And what do you know about Terrance, the man who has taken him?" he demanded.

"I know he's a psychopath, that he can get around some damned good security, and that he annoys the shit out of me," said Robin. "Anything else you want to add?"

There was quite a bit Bond could add, but little he thought worth mentioning to Rob.

"He's incredibly dangerous and Quentin may not have long. I've no idea what he's planning to do to him," Bond said. "There's history there. I have reason to believe Terrance may simply kill him, though I'd like to think he's got some time. I think Terrance would rather own him than kill him."

"On a scale of one to ten how broken are you anticipating he'll be when we get there?" Robin asked, turning his head to look over at Bond while he drove.

Bond was quiet for a long moment, giving that question some real thought.

"Physically, probably quite a lot. But psychologically...he's quite strong and he's not the same boy Terrance terrorized before. I believe he'll come through all right."

He had to believe that. He had to.

"Turn here," Robin said, getting back to the task at hand. After all, it wasn't going to help them to know what Quentin might be going through in the time it took them to get there. "Just up there."

Bond turned onto a gravel drive and rolled up to an old farm house sitting in the middle of what was left of what had likely been a large farm. Now it was little more than an expansive lawn. The nearest neighbor was well out of earshot but it was hardly secluded.

Bond noticed right away that though the light inside was on, there was no other vehicle parked there.

"I'll go first," he said, knowing he'd never get Rob to simply wait in the car. Bond drew his gun and didn't even bother to close the driver's door- he simply charged into the house, ready to kill.

Robin was surprised that Bond hadn't asked him about his skill set. He was probably just proceeding under the assumption that Robin was useless.

... also, did he really just charge in there like a damned bull in a china shop? Honestly. How were secret agents trained these days?

He walked in behind Bond, not knowing what to expect.

The place was empty.

Bond had thought it might be. He kept his gun up as he walked through and cleared the rooms, winding up ultimately in the kitchen. There was a glass tuned upside down and a bug inside it- a small metallic looking thing, as well as a piece of paper that had one simple word written on it.

Burned.

He knew just what that meant.

"He's not here," he grumbled.

Robin ignored that and brushed past Bond with a muttered curse in Greek under his breath, and then immediately went to lift the glass.

The "bug" underneath fluttered up into the air and shook, the metal glimmering and then dissipating. The pixie put her hands on her hips and glared at Robin.

"That was humiliating!" she squeaked.

Her voice was small but clear and Bond gawked at her. Being aware of the otherworldly beings and experiencing them were two different things completely. He was silent as he moved in closer, hoping she'd be a bit more forthcoming than that.

"Looks like it," Robin said dryly in response to her statement, though then added hastily, "Look, I'll give you hazard pay. Just tell us what happened."

Still looking ruffled, the little pixie mustered up some dignity and said, "He spotted me. Usually I just glamour myself into looking... insect-like." She clearly had some distaste for this. "But I've been spending enough time around him to know he's the sort of squash a bug for fun, so I went metal instead, figured he'd think I was some kind of drone. And then this." She gestured irritably at the glass.

"Did he say anything to you?" Robin asked, thinking it likely that if the man thought it was some kind of bug he'd purposefully spoken to whoever he thought was on the other side.

"He said it was too late. That you'll never find him," she said, clearly still perturbed.

"Nothing of where they might be going?" Bond asked.

"No...but it can't be far. The big one was having trouble breathing. Mortals need their air."

That made Bond's brows furrow again. Trouble breathing. Maybe Q could get free on his own...

He knew that Terrance wouldn't let that happen.

Robin looked at the pixie and confirmed, "Hazard pay. I'll get with you when we've retrieved the boy. If you're concerned that I might not return you can see my banker directly."

Azri twitched her wings erratically for a moment, but then nodded briskly. And, without waiting for anything else, zipped out an open window.

"Wait, did he..." Bond said, but she was gone. Not even a twinkle of light left behind. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around the room.

"He could be anywhere," he said, mostly to himself. It only just now hit him how dire this all truly was. Terrance had Q, time was running out, and there wasn't a lead to be had.

"We'll find him," said Robin confidently. Because Robin Goodfellow was confident about pretty much everything.

He hoped that Quentin appreciated this when they rescued him, because what he was about to suggest was probably also going to cost him a pretty penny. "Can you get me a few strands of his hair?"

Bond gave him a curious look for a brief moment, but then nodded. "We can get into his flat," he said. "I'm sure you could find some there."

"I can hire someone to do a tracking spell," Robin said. "But it might take some time." Pause. "I'd recommend you undertake some traditional means of tracking him in the meantime as well."

Bond nodded his understanding, then moved to look around.

"It doesn't look like they were here for that long. This place doesn't look like it's been occupied...and it smells geriatric. But I think that might be key...maybe Terrance has ties to the owner and that might be a break for us."

He truly doubted that, though. Bond could hope but he was a realist. Chances were that Terrance was simply an opportunist and had come upon this house by chance and luck.

Robin pointed to the glass jar where Azri had been, and the note there. "I assume that's a message for you?"

"It is. He probably thought she was a bit of tech from my division. A little 'fuck you, you can't catch me' I would think," Bond said, not best pleased about the little taunt.

Robin snorted. "Well at least we know he's clueless about some things. Smart of Azri to glamour herself metallic. She must have figured out some things about him by following him all this time." Hazard pay indeed.

"That was very clever. It's fortunate for us that Terrance isn't thinking beyond the realm of science. That might work to our advantage. But I think we're going to need every resource to find him. If your little friend lost him and Q's tracker isn't working..."

He didn't finish that sentence. He didn't want to acknowledge how it felt as if the bottom was dropping out from under him.

"Clever is a good word for most pixies, but also giant pains in the ass," Robin said. He looked at Bond for a moment. He could see the crack of emotion. Interesting. "Good thing you have my help then," he said. "Even if you knew a wizard who could do a tracking spell I'm betting her majesty's government wouldn't pony up the cash. I've always thought everyone would be better off if the supernatural world didn't insist on being so damned secretive. Just think what you could do with a wizard on staff in your division."

"That would never happen," Bond said, then paused. "Or perhaps it does. But it would be above my clearance. Does it cost a lot? I can pay. Whatever it costs, i can pay."

Robin rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. I have more money than God. Besides, there's a wizard I'd like to cultivate a relationship with, and this is as good an excuse as any. Come on, let's go. Back to my car. You get me some hair and I'll get a wizard. Then you can start working your own angles."

Bond hated this feeling when things stalled out. He was no good with dead ends and he was charged with energy at the realization that this entire scenario had become all the more dire.

"Let's go then," he said and headed out, ready to get Robin what he needed from Q's flat. He needed, too, to get back to Q branch to have R help him with scouring for Q's tracker. Terrance had to make a mistake. He had to. Bond hadn't met a nemesis yet that didn't make some sort of grave error.

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Bond/Q

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