#so we are both that black and orange cat curled up on the couch sunbathing

[rottiens]

you are a beautiful sleek black cat to me!!!! eye catching, a panther made for the modern home, big eyes always flashing and following something interesting. the children who come over to stare at your beauty assume you have all the secrets to the world hidden inside of those pretty eyes. they may be right.

ke--kendall this has got to be one of the loveliest asks i have ever received in my tumblrina life, i am sobbing so hard against my desk. i want to have this as a little note and keep it in my pocket and read it whenever i am sad. cos i-

[mi6-cafe]

The fourth and FINAL week of writing for LDWS participants has come to a close. Now it’s time for the next (and last!) bit of the competition: reading and voting!  

Photo prompt: 

Word count: 300 

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The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

Remember, readers–it’s up to YOU to decide who will wind up on top at the end of the competition!

Drabbles are under the read-more:

1) 

Title: Something Special Warnings: none Summary: Q gives James a part of himself.

Author: Melynen

There is nothing particularly special about the framed poster on Q’s bedroom wall. If anything, it could even be mistaken for one of the beautiful yet generic Greek views one can find on postcards from many of the islands that have any tourism. James knows this for a fact as he remembers seeing a strikingly similar view both in Santorini and Crete; and he has even sent Q a postcard of such a view the last time he was in Greece for a mission.

The card has found its spot on Q’s fridge door, held in place with a fridge magnet of a Greek cat illustration James brought him from the previous Greek mission.

James remembers paying any mind to the poster only after his sixth or so visit to Q’s bedroom. Before, there had been other, more interesting things - like the paleness of Q’s throat and the enticing way he gasps when James touches the inside of his knee just so - to focus on.

It's one of those nights when they’re cuddling under the duvet, nude and still slightly sticky with cooling sweat, with Q’s cheek resting against James’ chest and James’ fingers carding through Q’s hair, when James glances at the poster and hears Q sigh softly.

”It’s a photo my mother took when she was in Santorini with my father,” Q explains quietly. ”It’s where she realised she loved him, and where they returned a year later on their honeymoon, and again every year for their anniversary until she died.”

James looks at the poster again, takes in the cheery ambiance and the beautiful view, and makes up his mind. ”Can I take you there?” he asks against Q’s tangle of silky curls.

And when Q wordlessly nods his assent, James realises he’s been given something special.

2) 

Title: Almost Warnings: Canon-typical violence Summary:It was their first vacation together.

Author: Azure7539arts

It had been completely unexpected, although he supposed he should’ve been on his guard more. Should’ve been less distracted by the small quirk of a smile tugging on the lips of the man sitting across from him at the table.

The day had been bright and the blue sea shone a dazzling kind of bejeweled, all the lives and ships it had taken and swallowed up whole buried deep somewhere in the seabed and under the now calm, gentle waves.

He should’ve seen it coming, really.

He shouldn’t have been so absorbed in the brush of warm hand against his own knuckles, shouldn’t have let the cooling breeze lull him into false security as the scent of the sea and that of the vibrantly blooming flowers around them swaddled them up in its linen blanket.

It was almost perfect, the life of the city pulsing around them in that mid-morning energy as the sun tingled and kissed their skin from the edges of the umbrella. And now that he’d thought about it, looking at the way the feet next to him wiggled a little right at the rim of shadow separating their shade from the rest of the radiant, iridescent light outside as though it was a game of peek-a-boo, it had always been the little things that made him fall in love.

It was almost perfect, and it could’ve been exactly as perfect as it could have ever been when they leaned closer to press the bows of their lips together.

Until a distinct whizzing tore through the air just beyond his closed eyes and a thud of something fast hitting its target shattered this rosy lens into thousands of pieces.

The body next to him lurched, suddenly going heavy.

“Q?” Bond whispered, shivering.

But there was no reply.

3) 

Title: Gentlemanly Warnings: Omegaverse, y'all, but nothing too crazy Summary: The gang goes on vacation.

Author: Solitaryjane

Q watched Bond come toward him from the ocean. His chest glistened under the sun, and his pair of tight black swimtrunks somehow skirted the line of obscene and straight into sophistication. It contrasted sharply with other alphas, all eager to show off their bulges and purposefully dripping sweat onto any omegas that caught their eyes. A bunch of crass, disgusting idiots. Q had no patience for that lot.

“Don’t like the water?” Bond asked as he plopped himself onto the towel Q was currently sunbathing on. Q snorted. It was bloody nine in the morning; the water wouldn't be warm until noon.

“Some of us actually need to work to get a tan going,” Q replied.

“Wouldn't you just burn?”

“Ah, that’s where you come in.”  He sat up, handing Bond a bottle of sunscreen. The alpha said nothing as he poured the lotion onto his hands. He spread it onto Q’s back, kneading the muscles as he did so. Q could feel his warm breath on the side of his neck. He wanted Bond to come closer, to soak in the man’s spicy scent. But the salt of the ocean had washed off most of the alpha’s pheromones. It left Q’s head completely clear, something he secretly wished weren't so.

***

On the terrace above, Eve let out a loud sigh as she slumped on the table.

“For heaven’s sake, just fuck already,” she griped. “Watching them pretending to be civil is giving me a colossal migraine.”

“You know that’s not how Bond works,” Tanner answered beside her. “He has to make sure Q’s ‘in his right mind’ when he asks. Being a gentleman and all.”

“Bill, look over there and tell me,” she deadpanned. “Which part of that omega’s demeanor says he wants a gentleman to you?”

4) 

Title: Sun, Sea, and Spies Summary: Luxury holiday spots are all well and good until the weapons come out. Warnings: None.

Author: SolarMorrigan

Truly, this was lovely. The fresh, salt smell of the sea, the bright sunshine nearly tangible in the air, the cool breeze that wound its way through the little covered tables, the soothing hush of waves against the shore, Bond’s hand over Q’s where it rested on the tabletop, his thumb stroking soft circles into Q’s wrist.

Lovely, lovely, lovely.

It was so nice, Q could almost relax.

Almost.

“You know, I’d like to go on a real holiday someday.”

Bond sighed, just to the side of dramatic. “There’s no pleasing you, is there? I take you somewhere exotic, bring you to a nice resort, get you lunch…”

“Get me shot at.”

“Fairly certain I’d remember if there had been shooting.”

Q leaned in, murmuring into Bond’s ear like he was imparting some teasing secret. “The man at your eight o’ clock with a conspicuous bulge in his pocket suggests we’re about to be shot at.”

“Perhaps he’s just happy to see you,” Bond suggested, though he knew Q’s judgment was trustworthy.

Pulling back, Q cocked a desperately unimpressed eyebrow at Bond, but was ignored in favor of the new man approaching their table, hand resting not-quite-casually at his hip.

“Well,” Bond reached over with one hand to tilt Q’s head towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he grasped under the table for his weapon with his other hand, “what’s a holiday without a little adventure?”

Q frowned. “I really do hate you sometimes,” he said, but Bond could see him squaring himself up for the fight ahead, ready to go through whatever was needed to complete their mission.

Bond smirked against Q’s cheek, fond and proud, his attention still on their potential assailants, but amused by his lover all the same. “I love you too, Q.”

5) 

Title: Mediterranean shot Warnings: None Rating: G

Author: Susspencer

Q sat under the white umbrellas staring at the sea. Between the smell of the fresh fruit and the salt air, all he could do was relax.  He sipped his morning tea.  He normally would have been watching the people but he was lost in the blues of the sky and sea.  It reminded him of James’ eyes.

007 peered through the scope of the rifle.  Carefully he searched for  his target.  The barrels of fresh oranges, the people crowded under the white umbrellas, and a young man at the back table filled his view as he scanned the area.  James stopped on Q.  He sighed as he watched as Q just sat there completely unaware of what was happening around him.  James pulled his head up for a moment and shook it. He couldn’t believe that they were at this point.

The waiter walked over to Q.  

“Can I get you anything else sir?”

“Yes, the sign says, fruit pots for take away?  I would like to get a pot for a friend.” Q ordered.

“Certainly, sir.  I’ll be right back.”

The waiter gathered the fruit pot and a gun.  James adjusted the scope with a sigh, as the waiter returned to the table, it was now or never.  007 knew he had to take this shot, but he dreaded it.  The waiter sat the fruit pot down. There was a single gunshot.  A man fell to the ground.  James grabbed his gun, policed his brass, and returned to his hotel room.  

James sat on the sofa, the door opened.  He looked up to see Q with the fruit pot.

“I brought you a gift. I suppose it is a thank you gift.  I wasn’t even aware of the threat.” Q stated, as he joined James on the couch.

6) 

Title: Lost and Found Warnings: none Summary: Sometimes it’s best to start over…

Author: Ato

He feels warm for the first time in a week.  

At least on the outside.

There’s something cathartic about walking away and starting over.  The dread that leads up to it is awful, the actual leaving is painful, but sitting on a warm veranda with no responsibilities for the first time in memory is actually a bit wonderful.  Even with the cost… so high this time.  Even with the flashing blue of the sea sparking memories of his eyes.

He’s on his third round of the local cocktail, tongue delightfully cool and throat wonderfully warm, when a familiar shadow stretches out beside his own.  

He’d know those ears anywhere.  Damn.

“Hello, 007,” he greets quietly.  “Here to pull a trigger?”

“Or not pull a trigger,” Bond answers, reminiscent of their first conversation.  “Took me a while to find you.” Bond seems impressed.  “Thought you hated flying... and the sun.”

Q shrugs.  “Part of the Q-persona.  Best to keep some things close to one’s chest,” he mutters, eyes on the Mediterranean.  

Bond grunts in understanding, then after a moment, asks, “Was accepting my dinner invitation part of the Q-persona?”

“No,” Q acknowledges, glancing at Bond.  “Missing that was the worst part of leaving.”

They both watch the calm blue of the sea, but Q senses the tumultuous potential between them.  

“Did you mean for it to happen?” Bond asks solemnly.

Three agents dead.  Q shudders.  “Of course not.”

James nods, taking a seat beside Q. “Whatever he’s having,” he orders when the waiter comes by.

After his first sip, Bond closes his eyes and leans back in the chair.

“When was the last time you had a vacation?”

Q huffs a laugh.  “No idea,” he admits.  

James waves the waiter over for another round.  “In that case, we're in no hurry.”

7) 

Title:  Peach Warnings: NSFW! Porn! Smut! Summary: As it turns out, the cheeky young barman had been holding out on him…

Author: Iambid

One week.

Seven long days filled with flirting and coy smiles from the sexy young barkeeper.

One-hundred and sixty-eight hours since he’d innocently asked him “what’ll it be?” with a sweet smile and James had started to close in like a shark tasting blood in the water.

“A peach.” He’d replied.

The barman, Q, had tried to tell James that they had no peaches, only oranges and lemons that he could squeeze the juice from and make a refreshing drink with, if James wished but James persisted.  He wanted a peach.  A week of teasing followed before Q finally took pity on James and dragged him into the small shed where they stored the fruit, allowing James to strip him of his gaudy tropical vest and toy with the button on his white linen shorts, his arms wrapped around him from behind.  Q whined as James kissed his shoulder and pushed them off his hips.  He was naked underneath.  His buttocks perfectly round and perfectly smooth and perfectly white against the tanned skin of his back.

“I bloody knew it. I need to get you onto a nudist beach.  Even you out.” James muttered, falling to his knees to squeeze the perfect globes.  He leaned forward in the small dark room, smelling citrus and Q’s sweat as he licked a stripe over the base of Q’s back.  The fruity aroma clung to Q’s skin and made him taste like Earl Grey tea.

“Please…”  Q moaned, reaching back to grab James’s hair and hold him steady as he ground his hips.  James set to, kissing and licking at him until he was relaxed enough to take James up to the hilt.  James looked down as he began to thrust, unable to take his eyes off Q’s perfect arse.

What a peach.

8) 

Title: Santorini Warnings: none Summary:  Greece is for lovers.

Author: Beaubete

The wine is sharp on his tongue, fizzy.  Q glances over the whitewashed wall at the sea's shocking blue.  It calls to him like a voice; perhaps he'll dip his toes in it later after the sun's white heat has faded.  For now he's content to sit slathered in SPF and watch the waves break on the shore.  

It's all very peaceful.  The restaurant's a dazzle of different voices, different languages, and while some threads of conversation drift through his ear, for the most part he is alone.  It's the best holiday he's ever had.

It hadn't started that way.  It started with explosions, with tears.  It started with James Bond walking into his office and out of his life, with a bottle of wine on his couch and with the realization that he'd amassed a frankly daunting amount of leave, primarily because he'd wanted always to be available for Bond.  The discovery had left him a burst balloon until he'd thrown together a hasty plan to get as far from England as he could.

There's nothing of home's deep shadows here.  Everything here is washed with light until it is the most brilliant versions of itself.  The wine is fruitier, the salt more savoury; distantly, he's aware that this is reactionary, that he may not feel this way later.  For now, he's content to bask like a lizard in the sun.

English is by far the least spoken language here, and he cannot help listening when he hears it; somewhere behind him, a couple are having a whispered disagreement.

"I can't.  You don't understand.  I was cruel."

"I understand that you're a fool."

"I understand that too.  I still can't."

Q's lip curls.  Then:

"Excuse me" and eyes as blue as the sea.

"Bond."  Q's tongue goes numb.

"Q."

9) 

Title: It's All Greek to Me Warning: None Summary: Bond scores a security detail with benefits.

GwyllionDream

“Dyo kafedes,” Bond said, deciding it was easier to request two coffees in mangled Greek than to try for Q’s customary Earl Grey.

He found a table for two at the rooftop café and waited for Q to join him.

For the past few months, Bond had obeyed M’s every directive so he could score the security detail at Q’s International Cyber-Security Conference in Athens. The side trip to Santorini had been Q’s idea.

It seemed that Q was full of surprises.

Bond smiled and tilted his head back to let the sun warm his face. The scent of the Mediterranean mixed with the aroma of citrus and sunscreen. Memories of the past night flooded his mind.

Q had let Bond drag him from the infinity pool by his board shorts.

“Too many clothes,” Bond muttered, pressing Q into the soft mattress.

He dipped his head to lick droplets of chlorinated water from Q’s navel while divesting him of his swimwear.

Q rose onto his knees, planting himself in Bond’s naked lap. He grabbed Bond’s shoulders and took what he demanded with the pleading clench of his arse.

Bond gripped Q’s hips and delivered, thrusting so energetically that Q’s knees burned from the friction of skidding across the duvet.

Shuddering and damp with his own spend, Q’s head lolled back as he voiced a satisfied purr.

Only then did Bond let himself go, breathing Q’s name….

“Q….”

“Good morning,” Q said. He turned to the waitress and asked, “Tha boroúsate na mou férete mia katsaróla nkrízou kómis, parakaló?”

She nodded and smiled.

“What did you tell her?” Bond whispered.

“Nothing naughty,” Q said with a wink. “I ordered a pot of Earl Grey.”

Bond grinned. The fact that Q could speak Greek was the least of his surprises this week.

10) 

Title: Jolly Holiday Warnings: None Summary: A vacation to remember.

Author: Venstar

“Go on holiday they said. Bask in the sunlight they said. Enjoy your time away from the office they said!” Q’s voice was razor sharp and cutting as he hissed his rambling monologue in Bond’s ear. In fact, Bond could swear spittle hit his earlobe several times.

Bond murmured carefully back to him from the corner of his mouth. “Are you talking to yourself again?”

Again, Q was like an angry hornet in his ear. He even punched Bond’s shoulder with his bony knuckles, hard as he punctuated each sentence. “Yes. I am. Does that bother you?”

“No. I'm just wondering how long it’ll take before they find us with you wittering on like an old nanny goat.”

“Nanny goat! Hey, I’ll bitch about going on holiday when I want to bitch about going on holiday okay! You shot up the bar! It was a peaceful place.”

“The decor was outdated.”

Q sputtered. “It was a perfectly delightful, quaint Mediterranean bar. They had homemade lemonade and sodas. It had cute little chairs that I could sit on all by myself. At a table, all by myself.”

Bond didn’t even hesitate in teasing Q further. “As I said. Outdated.”

Q’s face grew red. Well redder than it already was. Poor, pale, old thing was sunburned.

“It had umbrellas that protected my skin from the sun!”

Q punched Bond again. “And now look at us. Look at me, I’m burnt to a crisp because you interrupted my holiday because M sent you out on a mission and you didn’t like the handler R assigned you so you led your target all the way over here! To my vacation spot, because you’re spoiled!”

Bond smiled. “So you’ll help me then?”

“I’ll help shoot you myself. Now give me that drive, you pompous git.”

11) 

Title: No Interruptions, Please Rating: G Summary: Bond and Q take a long holiday.

Author: IrishWitch58

The sun glittered off the Aegean, the landscape saturated with color. Bond adjusted his sunglasses and picked up his vibrating phone and checked messages. Eve was responsible for most of them.

'Q hasn't taken leave in two years. Now he's disappeared for a month.'

'I think R knows something but she won't tell me anything'

Bond's early responses, that a man who took leave only once in two years was entitled to his leave and to his privacy hadn't been well received. He smiled as he checked the new text alert. Not Moneypenny. He signaled the waiter and requested a bottle of the local wine and two glasses along with an appetizer plate. He leaned back appreciating the view. Santorini in early April was lovely, sunny, and warm. He looked forward to swimming or maybe renting a small boat for a day. He was, after all, on leave himself.

A shadow crossed the brick pavement and a figure in white slacks and a purple striped shirt settled in the other chair. “The ferry ride was very relaxing,” Q acknowledged, laying a manila envelope on the table.

“What did you tell Tanner?”

Q held up a phone. “I gave him this number and told him if he called with anything less than Armageddon I would exact consequences. He may have a stroke when I send in the paperwork on this.”

Bond handed over a glass of the wine as he looked at the formal certificate in the envelope. “Put the paperwork in right before we go back. Then Tanner and Moneypenny can both yell at us at once.” He sipped his own wine and clasped Q's hand across the table, touching the new platinum band he'd kept hidden the past five days. “I think we deserve a proper honeymoon don't you?.”

12) 

Title: Holidaying On A Mission Rating: G Warnings: none Summary: there was absolutely no reason why they shouldn't enjoy themselves on MI6 salary

Author: Sunaddicted

The scraping of the bar stool next to his own spoke of someone drunk or someone annoyed and looking forward to getting drunk.

"Does MI6 pay you for drinking your liver into a nasty case of hepatic cirrhosis?"

James grinned and tossed back the last of his cocktail, not needing to look at Q to know  he was scowling: the other man could be as easily predictable in some things - like his disapproval of unncessarily destroyed equipment and excessive consumption of alcohol - as he could be completely impenetrable in others "It's all part of the cover"

"Every single time?"

"What can I say? It's a good one"

Q rolled his eyes and tried to move his bar stool without having to stand up, trying to hide as much as he could in the refreshing shade of the beach umbrella: he could already feel his pale skin starting to fry, despite the copious amounts of sunscreen he had religiously applied before putting even a toe out of the hotel - no matter how inviting the glittering blue sea had seemed.

He both envied the agent's golden tan, deepened by Santorini's scorching sun, and thirsted at the way it made the other's muscles seem even bigger - Q shifted, lazily flicking the image away before he embarrassed himself.  

"What can I get you?"

Q turned to look at the other man "Are you trying to get me drunk, Bond?"

James leaned in, trigger finger under the younger man's chin to draw him closer and keep him there "Do I need to?"

"No"

In the heat, the kiss made Q breathless - he choked on salt, vodka, tan lotion and the taste of the other's lips.

Diving deeper.

Craving more.  

"Let's go back to the hotel"

It wasn't an invitation he had any intentions of refusing.  

13) 

Title: A Yacht on the Mediterranean Warnings: none Summary: Mallory needs an explanation.

Author: Kiddohno

This is technically not a disciplinary meeting, and Mallory must remember that. He looks between the two men sitting on the opposite side of his desk, in his locked office. Quite frankly, he’s completely dumbfounded by the whole situation.

Bond looks inappropriately amused. Q appears to be trying for contrite, but he’s also very clearly holding back a giggle.

The details of the conversation they are about to have should be confined to this room, but Moneypenny is undoubtedly eavesdropping, and it will surely be all around the agency by noon. He sighs, lamenting his position as leader of a herd of overgrown children.

“Will one of you explain to me how it came to be,” he begins, “That, after being sent out on what was barely more than a milk run, two of my staff end up returning legally married, and two weeks late.”

Q’s high giggle escapes. Bond smirks.

“Well, Sir, the Mediterranean is very romantic.”

Mallory glares. Bond shrugs.

“Mr. Vinton had a yacht,” is what Q adds, rather nonsensically.

“A yacht.”

Q nods.

“He insisted on it. Our honeymoon, I mean. On the yacht. Because Bond had said I was his fiance, as a cover.”

“Actually,” Bond says, “I’d told Mr. Vinton that I’d brought Q on holiday to propose. When he became suspicious, I had to get on one knee at this lovely little seaside restaurant. Then convinced,” Bond gestures as if the motion explains everything, “he invited us to honeymoon, on his yacht.”

“But first, we had to actually get married, and Vinton wanted to be there as a witness, so we had to. Actually, um, get married.”

“Naturally.”

“We did complete our objectives, Sir.” Q points out respectfully.

“With pleasure,” Bond agrees. Q goes red.

Mallory wonders if it’s too late to quit.

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