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It all started the year Gareth Mallory took over as M…
2012
“He wants us to what?” Bond had muttered as he took in the brightly coloured flyer pinned onto the interdepartmental notice board. Q appeared by his side.
“It appears to be an invitation to a Hallowe’en party.” He mused. “'Theme; the Rocky Horror Picture Show'. It’s interesting that he’s chosen the film and not the stage show. Perhaps he thinks more people would have seen that…” Bond stared at him like he’d just grown a second head. “Oh come on Bond, this’ll be fun. Where’s your sense of humour?”
“It was shot off in Belarus on my very first mission.”
Despite misgivings, Bond begrudgingly borrowed Q’s copy of the film and on the night turned up to the party in his usual tuxedo with a party hat worn at a jaunty angle. Q had spied him critically.
“A party guest? I’d thought you might dress up like Rocky in a pair of gold spangly pants.” He said wistfully. Bond looked him up and down. Q was in a large pair of white y-fronts, sensible shoes and socks and a manky looking white lab coat.
“And I would have thought you’d have been in a corset Brad. Anyway,” he added, nodding in the direction of Tanner, “I think one Rocky in the room is enough for anyone.”
2013
For the following year’s Hallowe’en party, the theme was ‘Superheroes/Supervillians’.
Q wore a fabulous Joker costume complete with green hair, purple pinstriped suit, green shirt, black tie, golden yellow waistcoat, spats and a wonderful makeup job which gave him a white complexion and blood red lips.
Bond wore a tuxedo and top hat and carried an umbrella. He told everyone he was The Penguin.
2014
“Disney characters. Ha!”
Bond looked at Q in amusement.
“Why the ‘ha!’?” He asked.
“Because for the past two years you’ve managed to wheedle your way out of wearing a proper costume by just wearing a bloody tux. You won’t be able to this year though and I can’t wait to see what you come as!”
Q dressed as Aladdin, sculpting his ridiculous hair up into a surprisingly decent coif and wearing a costume, that he proudly told anyone who asked, he made himself. Moneypenny coincidentally came as Princess Yasmine and they spent most of the night getting pissed and hitting the dancefloor together.
Bond arrived fashionably late dressed in a winged collar shirt and bow tie, tailed evening jacket, pale silver grey trousers and a dark red waistcoat. When Q spotted him he staggered over, already quite drunk.
“You! You cheated again. Why did you cheat again?” He slurred, wobbling adorably. Bond chuckled.
“I didn’t cheat!” He argued, snagging Q’s wrist and pulling him in for a dance. “I’m Edgar!”
“Edgar?” Q peered up at him.
“Yes, Edgar! The butler from The Aristocats!” Q slapped his chest companionably and started to laugh.
“You sneaky bugger!” He giggled as Bond started to sway his hips in a way that wasn’t strictly appropriate for polite company.
Q woke up the following morning sprawled across the agent’s chest with an aching arse and a vague memory of mind-blowing sex. Luckily Bond was more than willing to give him a rerun so he could fill in all the blanks.
2015
“Harry Potter. Yes!”
Bond nuzzled up against Q to kiss his neck, apparently annoyed that his boyfriend was more interested in his laptop than he was in the naked man lying in bed beside him.
“Don’t tell me; that bloody Hallowe’en party again.”
“Oi you,” Q nudged him. “Less of that. We hooked up at ‘that bloody Hallowe’en party’ last year! This is our first anniversary date.”
“Our first anniversary should be spent with me eating caviar off your naked body in a five star hotel somewhere, not poncing around MI6 dressed as fairies.”
“Wizards and witches Bond, not fairies. Honestly, to you popular culture is just something that happens to other people, isn’t it?”
Bond slipped a hand up Q’s thigh under the duvet.
“So what will you be dressing up as this year my little nerd? A wizard or a witch?”
Q turned off the laptop and carefully set it to one side. He snuggled back down into Bond’s arms.
“I have a few ideas…” He kissed Bond. “I could tell you them but then I’m afraid I’d have to kill you.”
“Classified?”
“Oh very.” Q smirked. “I’m just interested to see what you come up with… Not many tuxedos at Hogwarts…”
Everyone at the party agreed that Q’s costume was the best. He’d felt a bit silly when he’d first put it on but it had made him laugh so much, standing in the locker room at MI6 after his shift finished, that there was no way he wouldn’t go through with it.
Everyone had made an effort, Moneypenny was dressed as Hermione complete with toy ginger cat, Tanner was barely recognisable as Hagrid and everyone agreed that Mallory’s Voldemort was just plain creepy. Q had made a sizeable dent in the stock of free champagne by the time Bond strolled in, a good hour after the party had started. For a couple of seconds they just stood and stared at each other, open-mouthed. Q spoke first;
“A tuxedo. A bloody tuxedo. Why the buggering fuck are you wearing a sodding tuxedo again?!”
Bond grinned.
“I’m the Muggle Prime Minister.”
“You’re the… Bond, did you just read the entire series looking for a character in a fucking tux? Wait... he doesn’t even wear a tux!”
“He does to parties.” Bond answered smugly. Q went to speak again but Bond cut him off. “But look at you! A vision in pink! Did you accidentally make your skirt so short or is it that way on purpose?” Q waved his champagne flute at him in a pathetic attempt at warding him off.
“Don’t change the subject! You do this every bloody yearmmph!” He was cut off as Bond grabbed him roughly and dipped him backwards into a long snog. Q gave up fighting and slipped his arms up around Bond’s neck. “You’re a beast.” He whispered breathlessly.
“And you’re giving me an erection just looking at you in that get up. Tell me Delores, are you wearing stockings under that little skirt?” Q nodded and five minutes later he was in a deserted office getting the shagging of his life.
It was quite magical really.