Jump to content
Sneeze Fetish Forum

One Prompt, Ten Authors. "You're Hopeless" James Bond: Q (M)


matilda3948

Recommended Posts

@Reader organized this fun project: multiple authors writing on the same prompt. Our prompt was to somehow work in the words: doctor, allergies, vineyard, fog. 

"You're Hopeless" James Bond, Craig Era.

In his defense, at least 007 knew when he was in very serious trouble with the Quartermaster. The agent actually knocked before opening the door to Q’s private office and had the decency to look at least mildly humbled by the events of the last 24 hours.

“Get out,” Q snapped.

“I brought a peace offering,” Bond said, holding up a bottle of wine. Q’s fingers hovered over his keyboard weighing his options. He could hold his (well earned) grudge, or he could let Bond come in, share a drink, and possibly calm down enough to get some sleep. While glaring at the idiot in his doorway, it occurred to Q that perhaps 007 needed some company as well. The man certainly looked worse for wear—his jacket long gone, his shirt rolled up to his forearms, looking suspiciously close to fatigued.

“That better be very good wine,” Q mumbled.

“It is.”

“Sit down,” Q said, nodding towards the chair next to his desk. “Open that and then I want whatever’s left of your equipment.” Q got two empty, relatively clean coffee mugs and put them down in front of his agent. Bond raised an eyebrow but had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. Q took his wine and sat back down at his desk with a sigh. He could see dozens of small shrapnel injuries on Bond’s face and forearms, some closed with a few stitches. And that was only what he could see. As if reading Q’s mind, Bond leaned forward and tried to catch his eye.

“Q, it wasn’t your f—”

“Shut up.”

For once, Bond thought it was wise to listen. He drank his wine, which was pretty decent considering it had been served in a coffee mug and wasn’t whiskey. He put his gun and radio transmitter on the desk. Q sniffed and logged them back in.

“Take your watch off,” Q said, surprising Bond. He didn’t think there was any secret tech concealed in the stunning Omega he liked to wear on missions. He was even more surprised when Q’s thin fingers wrapped around his wrist and settled on his pulse point. The Quartermaster closed his eyes and focused on the steady pulse that had nearly ceased yesterday. Bond frowned—his near miss had genuinely shaken the younger man. He topped off both their drinks, but made no move to get his hand back from out from under Q’s firm grip. It was silent for a few minutes while Q reassured himself that he hadn’t killed his own agent by blowing up a building before 007 was clear. He ran a tired hand over his face and rubbed his nose back and forth, trying to quell an itch that had started since he started drinking.

“Q—”

“Don’t ever do that again.” His voice was quiet but deadly serious. “I’m serious, Bond. You basically ordered me to kill you. I should have waited longer before detonating.”

“You waited too long as it was,” Bond mumbled. They had argued over coms for a solid two minutes as Bond ran for the exit; him demanding Q bring the building down and Q refusing on the grounds that it was a death sentence.

“My job is to bring you back safely,” Q said.

“Your job is to complete the mission,” Bond countered. Q’s fingers tightened almost painfully around his wrist.

“No. Your job is to complete the mission. My job is to bring you back and you basically ordered me to kill you and I swear if you—huhIHTSCHH!” The sudden sneeze seemed to surprise Q as much as it did Bond, barely giving the Quartermaster enough time to turn his head.

“Gesundheit.”

Q nodded and reached up under his glasses to pinch the skin between his eyes, sniffling wetly. He felt like the last day had aged him ten years—the four minutes between blowing up the building and Bond coming back online to request a medical evac responsible for most of it. It was bad enough when he couldn’t save his agents, the thought of one dying by his own hand was almost more than he could stomach.

“Q, listen to me.” Bond waited until he was sure he had the younger man’s full attention. “This is important. I apologize.”

“For what? Not valuing your life? For asking me to kill you?”

“For having the sort of job where those things sometimes happen,” Bond said. When Q’s breath hitched, Bond was momentarily horrified  at the thought that he might be about to cry. But then Q ducked his head into his elbow and sneezed again.

huh HuhIHTschhew!

He stayed frozen in place, his breath catching on each inhale.

uhh huh…huhIHTSHHew!

“You okay?” Bond asked with an amused smirk.

“Fine. Where was I?”

“You were yelling at me for doing my job.” Q scowled at him but finally felt settled enough to let go of Bond’s wrist. He grabbed the nearly-empty bottle of wine and poured the rest of it into his cup. The alcohol had warmed him up and helped ease the guilt and anxiety that had been gnawing at him. He was starting to understand what Bond saw in alcoholism.

“I can’t believe the doctors let you out of medical in this state,” Q said, gesturing to the mess of cuts and bruises covering most of 007’s visible skin.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

huh uhh…Q angled his head away and raised his arm again as his sinuses flared with a sudden itch.

“Speaking of medical,” Bond said.

huhIhhtschh! huhIHHTSHHeew!

“Gesundheit. What’s with the sneezing?” He got a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it out to Q.

“Thank you.” Q wiped his nose and then blotted his eyes with another corner of the cloth. “I think it’s the wine,” he said.

“You’re allergic to wine?” Bond asked incredulously. Q shook his head, even though it felt very much like an allergic reaction.

“It’s more lihh uhh hihhTSHHew! More like a sensitivity than a true allergy.”

“Yes, I can certainly see the difference. Why did drink it if you knew it would make you like this?”

“I didn’t,” Q sniffled. “Some red wines have very high levels of histamine. It’s not very common, but occasionally one will set me off. Old world wines seem to be more likely to cause a reaction. Excuse me.” He turned his head and blew his nose. Bond looked thoughtful.

“This is from a nice little vineyard outside Lyon.”

“The one you somehow managed to burn down as part of a recon mission?” Q asked.

“I didn’t burn it down—it was a small, targeted fire. But I did liberate a few bottles during the chaos.”

“You’re hopeless.”

James huffed a laugh but didn’t argue. Q seemed a little better, but Bond was still concerned he was wound too tightly.

“Want me to go liberate an antihistamine?” Bond asked, noting how Q’s eyes and nose had both taken on a pinkish tone.

“No. Too hard to think after I take one. They make everything all foggy and slow.” His response might have been more convincing if not for the liquid sniffles that immediate came afterwards. Bond reached across the desk and took Q’s mug, polishing off the rest of the wine in a single gulp. Q glared but didn’t snipe at him, so Bond knew it was getting to him more that he wanted to admit.

“It’s nearly eleven. How much more thinking do you need to do?” the agent asked.

“I suppose I could call it a day. The person most likely to create total chaos is sitting right across from me.” He slid Bond’s watch back to him and powered down his computer.

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“I can take the heh—ihh huhIhhtschh! huhIHHTSHHeew! Bugger—ehh huhITSCHH hitschheew! KTschhew!

“Bless you. C’mon. You’re not taking the tube in this state.” Q opened his mouth to argue but was silenced by those annoyingly commanding sharp, blue eyes. “Call it returning the favor for overruling my reckless decisions yesterday.”

Tempted as he was to point out all the glaring differences between their situations, rank, and relative intelligence, Q caved when Bond punctuated his statement with a wink and slightest smile. Bastard. Absolute bastard.  

Link to comment

I haven't seen a Bond movie since Tomorrow Never Dies, so I'm reading this as an original fic. ☺️ The dynamic of their relationship comes through loud and clear in your writing, even if I didn't know anything about the concept at all. 

Especially this exchange

3 hours ago, matilda3948 said:

“My job is to bring you back safely,” Q said.

“Your job is to complete the mission,” Bond countered. Q’s fingers tightened almost painfully around his wrist.

“No. Your job is to complete the mission. My job is to bring you back and you basically ordered me to kill you and I swear if you—huhIHTSCHH!” The sudden sneeze seemed to surprise Q as much as it did Bond, barely giving the Quartermaster enough time to turn his head.

I liked how well it told both their perspectives and different way of looking at the same situation, excellent job! 

All in all, this is a fantastic piece of writing. Even though I'm not into male sneezing, I very much admire good writing, and this is it! Awesome! 

 

 

Link to comment

Oh my God!!! So excited to find this gem! I adore young Craig era Q!! It's so great to see characters in action franchises in their day-to-day lives that are only ever really implied in the movies. Fics from this forum made me ship these two so hard, and I thought I'd seen the last of 00Q sneezefics since they were posted some time a ago! So in character and well written too!!! You've got me craving more!! I'd love a sick Q! He's such a workaholic, and I loovvveeee the flipped dynamic of Bond caring for Q in a personal way rather than Q showing his genuine care for Bond by looking after him the way he knows best, with perfessionalism. Take this as a public plea for more sick Q from anyone reading this!

Link to comment

Oh my goodness, this was so goooooooood. They’re so precious and just gave me the feeeellssss. I love how Bond is so aware of Q and does whatever he can to help Q relax. And the pulse scene nearly took me out. Too adorable!! 

I second Fickle. I’m down for a sick Q anytime! Bond was such a perfect caretaker in this scenario! And Q just seems to have the perfect personality for a sick guy. 

This was a treat!

OPTA thanks you!! 

Link to comment
  • 2 weeks later...

Oohh! This is so cute!! I adore Craig-era Q and omg, the sensitivity to the wine is precious. Quirks like that are the sweetest! I love how you wrote his concern for Bond too, it's sweet but also a little heartbreaking :') Also the final few lines summed up their dynamic very nicely, I feel :rofl:

Thank you for sharing this! ❤️

Link to comment
  • 3 years later...

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...