Chapter Text
A Deal with a King
At MI6, everyone knew Q as…well, Q. Mostly because they didn’t know the world Q knew and partly because they didn’t know his other phone number. If they did, they would receive a message like this:
“This is Gabriel, if you got this message, I’m probably busy running a small island, if it isn’t an emergency, hang up, if it is an emergency, hit star, four, three, five, four, eight and you’ll be connected to Bobby Singer, if the world is about to end I’m probably already working on it, but on the slight chance that I’m not, hit star, six, six, six. If it can wait or you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about, leave a message.”
Of course, it would go over the heads of most employees as to what exactly that message meant. No one knew that Q was the brains that kept both human and demonic threats away from England…and most of Europe if he was to be honest—even America when Bobby came to a dead end. Of course, it wasn’t a job that paid off…and eventually MI5 and MI6 figure out who’s been impersonating higher-ups for years.
That’s how Gabriel became Q on top of being the brains behind the hunters of Europe.
The only person who knew what Q did in his spare time, was his lover/husband/partner/friend/everything, who had only happened to find out when Q had stabbed a ‘human’ with a silver blade, making the man flash with light before collapsing onto the ground before he grabbed James around the waist pulling him close. “Angel blade, keep it handy in case there’s more, I can handle myself. Good to have an angel in your debt once in a while, you get amazing blades for it.”
“Angel?”
“Yeah, well, he likes to pretend he’s not an angel, but he is and he snuck me a few weapons for helping him out.”
“What in the hell was that?”
“That, James, was a demon, I tell you all about it later, let’s go to my flat, they won’t dare follow us there.”
“Why?”
“Because they can’t get close, and they know better than to fight me.” It was the first time James had been to Q’s flat and the first time he’d heard anything about the supernatural being real—he took it rather well for a first timer and had even allowed Q to give him an invisible tattoo to keep him safe from possession. James learned about the supernatural from Q, but that knowledge didn’t often apply to his work, Q had his lines of work and James had his, James just made sure to hang onto every one of Q’s words.
James always knew Q would die of supernatural causes, he’d said so himself with a melancholy look on his face and Q had always said that one day James would only leave the field without a heartbeat left to offer. They had just hoped it never happened.
800Q8
“007, can you hear me?” Q asked worriedly, hearing fighting through his earpiece.
“Bit busy, love.” James commented. Q sighed in relief, hearing his lover’s voice in his ear. He listened to James fight, trying to get back up headed for James when he heard a sound he wouldn’t likely forget. A moist, thunk of a knife sliding into flesh and a grunt from James. A moment later there was a scream. “007? James? Are you alright?”
“Target eliminated.”
“And you?”
“Agent down, Q.” James whispered after a moment. Q could hear the thud of James landing on the floor.
“Where were you stabbed? I can help you, just tell me what happened.”
“Gabriel…you can’t help me.” James’ voice had a wet sound to it, the sound of blood pooling in his lungs.
“James, listen I can fix this, I can—please just let me try.”
“Sh…Gabe, sh… Please, I don’t have much longer.”
“Stay with me, I’ll find a way to fix this.”
“Please…just talk to me, Gabriel…I don’t want to be alone…please.” Q went still for a moment before he started talking.
“I love you so much, you know.”
“I love you too.” James answered, his voice weaker.
“I’m going to bring you home, James…and I’ll wrap you up and we’ll cuddle on the sofa and kiss and everything will be perfect, I promise.”
“Sounds wonderful, Gabriel.”
“Please don’t leave me… I don’t think I can make it without you.”
“We knew this would happen, baby.”
“Not like this, not now, please.”
“Shh…” James coughed, weakly, wetly. “I ‘ove you. So much.”
“I love you too.”
“My heaven will be with you…” James whispered, before his breaths sounded more like gurgles.
“I love you so much, sleep well, my love.” Q whispered before James went silent.
800Q8
Q didn’t attend the funeral, he didn’t go back to work, he didn’t answer his phone, not even the times hunters called. He sat alone in their flat, holding the dog tags James had given him and staring at James’ empty side of the bed before he got up in a rush a month after James had died and gathered up a bone of a black cat, graveyard dirt, and he ripped a picture of him and James together in half, placing the precious picture of James in his pocket and stowing the other ingredients in a box. He slipped on James’ dog tags and got in James’ old Aston, driving out into the country.
He stopped at an empty crossroads in the middle of no-where and pulled out his angel blade before burying the box in the center. Nothing happened. “Come on you sick bastard. The one time I actually want to see one of your ugly faces and you can’t be bothered to show?!”
“Easy, tiger.” Q turned and glared at the man.
“Crowley.”
“King of Hell, at your service.” Crowley smirked with a little bow.
“I know who you are.”
“Of course you do. When I was told you were at the crossroads, I decided I couldn’t resist. I mean, you’ve caused me a lot of problems, killed my boys, sent people to kill my boys, and helped those dreaded Winchesters… I thought, what the hell, must be important if Gabriel Shaw is at the crossroads. You deserved someone special to help you.”
“Really?”
“Really. Do you really have to have an angel blade with you?” He asked looking Gabriel up and down. “Very hostile, Stretch.”
“I don’t like the idea of a demon getting close to me, I figure you’ll keep your distance, you know I know how to use this well.”
“Yes… I would rather like to keep my head.” Crowley smiled. “You know how this works.”
“Of course I do.”
“Then tell me what you want, because you want something. I don’t think I’ve seen you so broken up before.”
“I want James Bond, alive.”
“James Bond? You realize that that would require storming the gates of heaven, right? Bit steep for one measly soul. Besides, the man was nothing but trouble and due to die. Are you sure you want him back? I mean if you gave him much more time on earth to whore around and murder he may just wind up in hell—!”
“Don’t you dare insult him!” Q warned, moving so quickly even Crowley didn’t move in time before the blade was pressed against his throat.
“Ooh, was he lover boy then, Stretch?”
“He is my husband.”
“Ahh…I see. And you’re willing to give up your soul for him?”
“You were going to trap me in hell anyway. You do love intercepting orders. I know you’ll never let me go to heaven, so I want more time, ten more years with him before you drag me down to hell like you were always going to do.”
“Ten more years with him? Fine…you know, I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you…twelve years for your soul.”
“At what price?”
“No extra charge… I just…have always admired your spunk, Stretch. The Winchester’s, see, they’re big and strong…you’re all brains and bones and still get under my skin just as much… I’ll miss playing with you, this just gives me two more years to play.”
“Fine. Tell me what happens, as it stands. You’re obviously not bringing him back.”
“No, I’m sending you back in time, twelve years and month a before you meet… That was at the gallery wasn’t it? Yes, twelve years before that point. You meet him and woo him and love him and live happily until a month before you met, then my hounds will come and get you, and I don’t expect a fight.”
“I won’t fight.”
“Do I have your word?”
“Yes.”
“Shall we seal this with a kiss? Ooh, I wonder how James would feel about you kissing me.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Ooh, a bit touchy for someone who’s asking a favor. Missing those baby blues?” Q closed his eyes tightly, willing himself not to cry in front of the conniving monster.
“Please…”
“Alright, anything you need, darling, but I’ll even sweeten the deal a little, you won’t have to age…because honestly, breaking this tiny version of you when you do come down to play in hell will be more fun.” Q slowly slid his blade back into the holster in his cardigan and took a deep breath. “Shall we?” Crowley asked, holding out his hand to Q. Q slowly took a step forward and Crowley snatched his hand, pulling him closer so their bodies were pressed against each other. “I collect in twelve years, you know I’m a man of my word, if nothing else.”
“You’re not a man. You just wear one.”
“And that’s why I love you, Stretch.”
“The feeling isn’t mutual.”
“Well, maybe several centuries from now you and I might be friends, you never know.” Crowley smirked before he pulled Q into a kiss. “Always wanted to know what you tasted like…James is a lucky man, Stretch.” Crowley smirked before he winked. “Mind your step, sweetie.” He commented before he shoved Q hard.