provocateur_king (
provocateur_king) wrote2022-11-15 07:49 pm
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AU - On THe Third Day
On the morning of the third day, Bond had ordered his men to prepare the cannons. Q had promised and Bond expected delivery.
When the wizard didn't come for breakfast, Bond was irritated. He paced and fumed, but he waited.
Until he could wait no longer. They were going to miss the tide.
"Q!: he shouted, pounding soundly on the wizard's chamber door before throwing it open.
"You promised three days!" he shouted to the man still abed.
When the wizard didn't come for breakfast, Bond was irritated. He paced and fumed, but he waited.
Until he could wait no longer. They were going to miss the tide.
"Q!: he shouted, pounding soundly on the wizard's chamber door before throwing it open.
"You promised three days!" he shouted to the man still abed.
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"Finished yesterday. Just spread it around inside the cannon, then fire as usual," he said with a yawn. "One coat should last a week."
He pulled the blankets up higher and settled back in.
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Bond stood in the doorway, arms spread to hold the doors wide open.
"You're still in bed?" he gasped, stunned and a bit horrified.
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Q groaned, pulling the blanket fully over his head.
"You don't need me to test it, just let me sleep," the wizard complained.
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Bond heaved a tremendous sigh of frustration, snatched the bottle from where it sat, and stormed out.
The doors banged shut behind him.
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Curling up, Q settled in for some more rest, certain Bond would be pleased with his work. It was one of the few things Q had full confidence in. His spell work and potions were impeccable.
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Bond was in a sour mood as he returned to the Provocateur and remained there for the day. The cannons were treated, but he barked orders at his men. They all knew the king's dark moods and moved quickly and quietly as he readied the ship to leave.
By the afternoon, the work was hot and Bond had shed his coat, working in his shirt with the sleeves rolled up as he poured over maps with Tanner on the deck.
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Q eventually made an appearance, dressed a bit more casual than usual as he admired Bond from a distance. The man really was stunning, it wasn't fair.
"I assume you're satisfied with my work."
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"Oh, but look who has graced us with his presence, Tanner," Bond smirked derisively.
"Are you ready to go? We shove off at six bells," he said then, looking back at the map and pointing out a mark for Tanner to note.
"You may not want to eat if you're just going to be sick on my ship again."
Remarkably, he wasn't even a fraction as sour as he'd been when he'd first boarded the ship. Even Tanner looked mildly impressed.
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Q frowned, resentful that the man was being so bitter when he'd given him what he wanted.
"I'm ready," he assured him, folding his arms over his chest with a small scowl.
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"Then make yourself useful. Tanner, show him what to do."
He brushed them both off so he could plot his course. If they made for Lonely Island today, they could bring the guns to Arthur under the new moon.
Bond carried the tension of the plan in his jaw and his shoulders until they were well out to sea.
Only then did he seek Q out. He only just realized the wizard was probably sick.
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Q was actually doing alright though, loitering in Bond's rooms where no one would come looking for him. He had a book and was lounging on the bed, reading and sipping tea.
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When Bond found him finally, he was a changed man. He was at home on the sea and his mood was greatly improved.
"The wind will hold. We'll be to the Lonely Island by tomorrow nightfall," he said.
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"Okay," Q said, not looking up from his book.
There was something different about his attitude now though. He wasn't being cold because he was scared or talking back out of defiance- No, this read like... Provocation.
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Bond arched a brow.
"This isn't a pleasure cruise, just because you're excited about the destination, Q," Bond said, sauntering in to shed his coat and belts and wait for Tom to bring his dinner.
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"I should be thankful? You're lucky we didn't leave you alone on the island," he replied, going to the water bowl to wash his hands.
"You're my captive until I let you go. You understand that, don't you?" he asked. "I think you do...since you've made yourself comfortable in my bed."
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"I can't tell if that's some kind of threat or you soothing your own ego," Q shot back, attention returning to his book as he made no move to get up.
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"You'll sleep in your own hammock tonight. I need my room tonight."
There was so much to plan and so much unknown. Q's magic would give them an upper hand, but he couldn't rely solely on that.
"Since you're just going to be a shrew."
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Q rolled his eyes and got up, leaving his book on the man's bed.
"Fine," he replied, turning to leave.
The book was a romance. ...About pirates of all things.
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Before he could go, Bond pivoted and caught him by the arm in a strong grip. He stepped in close and looked into Q's eyes with an unwavering gaze.
"You'd really rather leave than be civil?" he asked.
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"You just kicked me out," Q replied flatly. "Called me a shrew and told me to sleep in a hammock, remember?"
Q asked, hating the way his body reacted to that firm grip.
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Bond looked at him for a long moment.
"Perhaps I was...hasty," he admitted. He wanted to let him go, but he found he couldn't will his hand away.
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Q held his gaze , wetting his lips with a flick of his tongue.
"I thought pirates just pillaged and took what they wanted, but here you are with your manners and restraint. How odd."
He shook his arm free from Bond's grip, then straightened his shirt, not wanting James to notice that he was clearly a bit flustered again.
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"You think murderers don't have manners?" he asked, arching a brow.
Then his eyes darted to the bed.
"Is that what your bedtime stories tell you? Your books spin tales of savage men, masters of death, taking what they want by force?" he asked, his tone growing more heated as the words tumbled out.
Suddenly, he caught Q and hauled him tight to his chest.
"You have dreams of being ravished at sea?"
His lips twitched into a taunting smile as he awaited the answer.
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Q looked torn between embarrassment and annoyance, pulse pounding as he found himself pressed tight to Bond's chest.
"You flatter yourself if you think you're in my dreams. Do I look like some dainty damsel in some bodice ripping fantasy?"
He didn't pull away though, didn't struggle. The only resistance here was from his ego.
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