Sherlock: Ghosts

by: Shadow Chaser

Story:

Q was sorely tempted to ignore M's request for a meeting right then and there and go back to outfitting the new 008 that had been recruited as Moneypenny's replacement. Then there was also 009's request for her specialized car to be finished and he was behind on that work order if only because he had been working on Bond's personal car a little too much. At least it had graduated from a steering wheel to a whole body. Well...three-quarters of a body. The salvage teams were still finding bits and pieces of wreckage across whatever was left of Skyfall Manor. He hoped to have the whole body completed in a few weeks.

"So what does this do?" 008 was most definitely not a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed young man, having been granted the license to kill at whim was not something handed out at parties. But Q thought him as annoying as a fresh recruit who could not stop touching everything.

"Please stop," he said as he adjusted something on the man's pack that he was wearing, "and don't fiddle with the buttons-"

"But sir-"

"I need to finish outfitting your measurements for your scuba tank. You do not want to be caught off guard in Cape Town, do you?" he chided as he ran through a quick mental checklist at what he needed to do to finish outfitting 008 for his first mission. M had asked 008 to investigate an odd lead in South Africa that their contacts in the CIA had shared with them.

"No, sir," the agent replied and Q glared up at the not-so-subtle sound of teeth being ground together. The agent was certainly competent, Q had read his files, studied his history and habits, as well as generally everything medical about the other man. But he could also tell that the double-o was itching to prove himself in the field.

"Sir," one of his minions spoke up in a half-whisper and Q glanced back to see the young woman place a hand over the phone she had been speaking on, "M insists on your presence right now. He's sending someone down to fetch you-"

The ping of an elevator was quickly preceded by the door to his lab opening and Q frowned at the sight of Anthea with her patented pleasant smile on her. "Hello," she greeted as if she had never been in the labs before, "is the Quartermaster here?"

Q sighed and waved at his minion who hung up the phone, watching them with some trepidation in her eyes. He knew exactly why she was hesitant. It meant that she would take over for him to finish outfitting 008. Q knew that she liked working with technology more than outfitting any of the double-o agents and found it a chore. But, since she was the one who helped design the specialized scuba tank 008 was going to use in his mission, he thought it was also part of her responsibilities whenever he was not available.

"Take over," he ordered as he stepped back and shucked off a glove he had been wearing. He headed out of the door, walking past Anthea who nodded a greeting and followed behind him. Q mashed his badge against the elevators and it opened before he stepped in with her. But before he could press any of the buttons, she quickly reached over and swiped her own badge and pressed the button to take them directly to M's office. He gave her a withering look at the fact that she had thwarted his attempt to try to see if he could stop the elevator along the way just to annoy and delay the meeting.

"Sorry," she apologized letting her public smile drop a little bit, "it's a bit of an emergency."

"Something to do with Sherlock?" he asked.

"Sort of, not quite," she replied evasively, eyeing him with something akin to sympathy.

"You do know that I hate meetings like this, right? I'm pretty sure it was explicitly spelled out to you when you took the assignment to guard Mycroft, 002," he addressed her by her title and she only shrugged a little. He knew that she knew her responsibilities and everything that entailed regarding Mycroft, he had even spent time with her during the holidays about a year ago before Sherlock had done the stupid thing and shot Magnussen. She even liked his cats and fed them whenever he was too busy at MI6. She was one of the very few people who truly understood and straddled the line that had been between him and Mycroft in a neat and precise way.

"I'm sorry, Q," she apologized again, but to his ears it sounded hollow.

"I'm going to have words with M," he groused as the elevator slowed and pinged to a stop. The doors swished open and Q stepped out, not even bothering concealing his annoyance and long-suffering look to Moneypenny who stared at him with a raised eyebrow. He was pretty sure that there would only be one other person she gossiped to about what had just happened. It would also serve Mycroft right if a certain double-o agent decided to visit him again from what had just happened – not that 007 was his personal attack dog or anything, no, no...certainly not. But Q would not put it past Bond to make sure that Mycroft was not doing anything like absconding and hiding him somewhere without warning like he had done the last time. He was pretty sure Mycroft learned his lesson after pissing off both 002 and 007.

Q only knocked once and even before M's polite 'enter' registered, he opened the door, glaring at the sight of Mycroft standing near M's bookshelf. He was absently staring at the leather-bound titles the man owned. Anthea closed the door behind them.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked and knew it was utterly rude. Q was still angry at what Mycroft had ordered him to do to Sherlock – to prep his own brother for a suicide mission – after he had killed Magnussen. Luckily, that mission had been postponed and given to another asset as Moriarty's message hit the airwaves. He was still working on that problem and was no where close to figuring out if James Moriarty, the former 001 of MI6, was still alive or was this message being played by a member of his organization.

He ignored the glare he got from M and knew that in other circumstances, it would have earned him a swift reprimand. But everyone in the room knew who was in charge, and it was not the man with the letter for his codename. Mycroft only absently touched one of the leather-bound books with a finger before turning on his heel and clasped his hands in front of him, resting them on his umbrella.

"The Quartermaster Branch is being moved to a more secure and secret location as of now," Mycroft started and Q blanched.

"What," he blinked, shocked, "but-" He turned to M who had an impassive look on his face, "Sir, he can't-"

"I've allowed it," M replied carefully and Q looked back at Mycroft.

"Why? What- Mycroft, what's- You can't..."

"The joint measure to merge both M-I divisions 5 and 6, domestic and foreign, has passed," Mycroft stated quietly, almost disinterestedly, "and things will be changing soon for both divisions."

"But...moving my branch?"

"It has come to my attention the existence of a certain person who bares an uncanny resemblance to one of our previously deceased agents in the field," M started, his fingertips tapping each other lightly before he turned his computer screen and Q stared at the face that was on it. It couldn't be...

"For the first time, Q, your brother and I agree that it is for the best if we move your branch to a more secure location. A secret one as we deal with this...person," M looked at him, his eyes serious.

Q involuntarily swallowed, feeling suddenly very thirsty and faint as he stared at the face to whom could only be James Moriarty, 001. Sherlock's nemesis and the man his older brother had sworn had shot himself moments before Sherlock enacted his plan to jump off of Barts' rooftop. This was the man that Q had first discovered in connection to Sherlock's sudden fame, had warned their mutual older brother Mycroft about, that Jim Moriarty was going to kill Sherlock, was going to destroy him. And Mycroft had ignored his warnings.

"...Max Denbigh..." he murmured the name listed under the face as M turned his screen around.

"If that is his real name," Mycroft interjected, twisting his umbrella's handle this way and that, "it could be a complete coincidence that this man has similar facial structure to James Moriarty-"

"I can look into his files-"

"You will do no such thing until we have the proper protocols in place, Q," M interrupted him with a stern look, "this Max Denbigh, if it is really his name, is a favorite of the Ministry and is apparently to become the new head of the Joint Intelligence Division if his appointment goes through."

"Sir-"

"Q, no. I mean it," M shook his head, "if this man truly is 001, if he truly is James Moriarty, we must proceed with caution. He is currently in favor with the administration and can use the power against us, against the whole of MI6."

Q bit his lip as he reluctantly nodded, staying silent. He could not recklessly compromise all of the assets and agency personnel just because this man could be Sherlock's nemesis. He needed to tread carefully, especially in light of what Silva had done to him with that laptop of his a couple of years ago. The news of the merger resolution passing was equally damning – it meant that MI6's double-o section had the potential of being shut down and Q knew that he would lose all protection he had with the agency and be at the mercy of Mycroft and his smothering hand.

He glanced over to his other older brother who was staring at him with an evaluating look. "Politics fail you?" he jabbed.

"Not yet," Mycroft refused to take the poorly hung bait.

As much as Q detested his brother's hovering presence, he also knew that Mycroft would not deliberately bring down MI6 by using or influencing this Max Denbigh in order to keep him in check. He was not that cruel. He also knew that Mycroft would keep a very sharp eye on Denbigh in light of his failure to stop Jim Moriarty from enacting his plan to discredit Sherlock. All, in all, Mycroft was the one with the most to lose in all of this.

He sighed and turned back to M, "All right. What's to happen?"

"Tanner and I would be the only ones who know where you will be placed. You can select a small team to take with you to help you on projects and asset outfitting, but the rest of your team will be here, working on other projects. You'll be on special assignment, not unusual for the Quartermaster branch thankfully," M explained, "your team, however, will have to follow certain protocols for leaving and entering the facility. They will be scrutinized and Mr. Holmes' men will follow them to ensure their safety and loyalty."

"And those that need outfitting?"

"Tanner will bring them in on a need-to-basis," M replied.

"The official line is that you would rather work elsewhere as the merger is taking place since it is a distraction," Mycroft took a step forward and Q frowned, but nodded. His years at MI6 did not make him completely immune to how spies operated. There was always the grain of truth in a lie to make the lie more palatable for others.

"And Sherlock?"

"What about Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, his tone mild, almost disinterested.

"If that man's going to be on the telly being the public face and all, Sherlock's going to know," he sniffed quietly, "and if he asks, I will tell him."

"You will not," his brother took another step forward and Q registered the threat as he instantly narrowed his eyes and glared at Mycroft past the rims of his glasses.

"The last time I left this to you, you made a right mess of things, Mycroft," he hissed quietly to his brother as they stood almost nose-to-nose.

"And I fixed it-"

"No," he interrupted, "I fixed that mess. You just helped Sherlock fake a death he had no choice but to fake because you decided to spill all of his secrets. I was the one who fixed it."

"Yes, and look where it got you with Magnussen," his brother retorted and Q pressed his lips into a thin line. He had tripped onto Magnussen's radar and received a suspension for that bit of trouble. But it had also saved Mycroft from a bullet and nearly cost Anthea her career as a double-o. It had even landed Bond in the hospital for his trouble.

"...Gentlemen?" M cleared his throat as he stood up, bringing both their gazes to the head of MI6. "How about we cross that bridge with Mr. Holmes when we get to it?"

Q was about to say no, but then caught the barest hint of hesitation on Mycroft's face before he decided to be the better man and nodded. "All right," he agreed with his superior before turning to face M, "anything else sir?"

"Tanner will stop by to collect your list of things you wish to be moved to the new place. Mind you, Q, it will not be as large as your current facilities. Bring only what you need-"

"Does it have at least two garages, if not three?" maybe he could at least work on 009's request and Bond's car as well as tinker with his own experimental motorcycle while he was in metaphoric exile.

"It does," M replied, "I will let Tanner know that."

"Thank you sir," he nodded politely before giving Mycroft a look and nodded to Anthea as he opened the door and left. Of course, he had no intention of following M or Mycroft's orders regarding the person named Max Denbigh. He would do his own research and if he found something that connected Denbigh to Moriarty, he would send it to Sherlock. After all, he owed Sherlock for getting rid of Magnussen.

~END~

Author's Notes:

I'm back with the release of "Spectre." Much giggling and plot threading ensued while watching the movie.