vix_spes

It was a more than little exhausted 007 who walked into Vauxhall at the end of a very long journey. Freak weather conditions - a snowstorm of epic proportions of all things - had resulted in twelve hours spent in an airport with very little information being given out and unhappy passengers everywhere. It was interesting; Bond had far more patience and sympathy for parents dealing with unhappy pups than he ever had in the past now that he was a father himself but, more than anything, it just made him want to be home with his family. Particularly as Q was pregnant again.

In the aftermath of his disastrous last mission, it had been the thought of his family - Q, Andy, Alec and the new pup - that had seen Bond through the worst days of his recovery. The days where it had felt like he was never going to make it out of bed, let alone be the man, the agent, that he had been before. It had also hammered home, more than ever before, that Bond had something to live for. Something more than the mission, more than Queen and a Country. A reason for being. A reason to come home.

It had been for them that he had made the decision not to return to the field. He knew that most people were expecting for him to turn around and change his mind in the future, but Bond was certain that he wouldn't. He wanted to see his pups grow up, he wanted to grow old and cantankerous (well, even more so) with Q at his side whilst still raising merry hell with Alec. None of that would happen if he continued getting shot in the arse end of nowhere in countries that he probably shouldn't be in in the first place. That wasn’t to say that Bond had completely walked away from MI6; he was still heavily involved in training the double-0 division and testing various items for Q. There was also the fact that M was increasingly sending Bond out to meet with other agencies in his place, stating that Bond’s experience as an agent gave him a unique perspective; one that M needed in this new era of espionage.

It had been one of these trips that Bond had been on. New York, where he had been forced to play nice and talk to people, never alluding to the fact that he'd shot at at least half of them at some point in his career. Still, it had at least meant that he wasn't being shot at and he had regular hours which meant that it was easy enough to slip away during the afternoon break to catch Andy's bedtime via Skype. The fact that he was in New York also meant that, even though the snowstorm had been a ball ache because when his original flight was cancelled indefinitely after 12 hours of no information - along with every single other one from JFK - he was in a city where he could cash in any number of favours and catch a flight out on a military plane; those crazy bastards weren't going to be affected by a bit of snow.

In an ideal world, Bond would have gone straight home to Q and Andy but he had information that M needed immediately, observations that were best given in person rather than documented somewhere. It helped knowing that Alec had been staying with his husband and pup, looking after them when Bond couldn't, but while Alec was pack, he wasn't Bond. He accepted the scotch that M offered out of courtesy, taking one sip before starting to talk. To his relief, M seemed to sense that Bond didn’t want to stay any longer than he had to and allowed Bond to talk without interruption, simply taking notes and making the odd muffled hum. To his relief, M didn’t keep him for nearly as long as he was expecting.

“Thank you for this, Bond. It’s all very useful. Look, take the weekend and we’ll sort this out on Monday; none of the other agencies are going to be doing anything until then anyway. Go home and take Q with you.”

Bond gave a start. “Q’s here?” That wasn’t supposed to be the plan. Q was five months pregnant and, although this one was easier on Q than the first pregnancy had been, he was still supposed to be taking things easier. That definitely didn’t include being at Vauxhall at arse o’clock in the morning. Bond wondered where Alec was and what the hell he thought he was doing; Bond was going to kick his arse to Russia and back.

“Down in his office. And before you try to blame 006, he tried to take them home but Q refused and you know how stubborn he is.”

“That I do. I’ll go and collect him. Thank you, M.”

“Bond.”

(~*~)

Given the late hour, there was only a skeleton crew working in Q-branch overseeing the few ongoing missions and tracking data and not a single one of them batted an eyelid at seeing Bond. Walking over to Q’s office, he paused in the doorway, face softening at the sight in front of them. Q was sprawled over the sofa that the double-0’s had installed there all those years ago, Andy curled around the swell of his belly, one tiny hand resting on the bump that housed his unborn sibling. This was it. This was why he’d said no to remaining on active duty; so that he could come home to this as often as possible. His family, his pack. A soft rustle to his left along with a familiar scent alerted him to the fact that Alec was there, watching over Q and Andy protectively.

“Before you say anything brother, I tried to get him home but he refused. Wanted to stay until you were back on home soil.”

“Has he eaten at least?”

“Enough to feed a small army. Are you sure you only put one pup there this time?”

“Scans haven’t said anything about twins but if it is then I might be rescinding my resignation from the double-0 division.”