Always For You

Title: Always For You
Fandom: James Bond, Sherlock
Year: Post Skyfall
Tags: Angst, Faked Death, Bondlock,
Ratings: Explicit
Pairings: James Bond/Q,
Characters: James Bond, Q, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, John Watson,
Spoilers: Skyfall
Summary: There was little to miss about a life that never happened. Q wasn’t sure what to think when his life came back to him without asking him if he wanted it.
Words: 7102
Notes: None
Warnings: None
Beta: None

Q remembered the day well that he finally took off James’s engagement ring. It had been a year after the Smart Blood had stopped transmitting. Q put in for two weeks off, and M had approved it with a slightly fond look on his face. He had gone home and packed up the life that he and James had built. Getting the other Double O’s to help pack it into a moving truck had been easy. However, getting them to leave had been the bigger issue. The older Double O’s, the ones that had known Q since he had started at MI6 saw Q as a widower of the program and sought to take care of him. Two weeks into living in the new house, 001 moved into the house across the street. When 001 was on a mission, whichever other Double O was in town stayed there. Q didn’t mind it at all. It was life.

“Q, there is a glitch with the secure server,” R said as she stepped into Q’s office. Q looked up at the light in the corner and saw that it was off.

“What kind of glitch?”

“I don’t know. There is a blinking red light. You are the only one with access.”

“I’ll look at it as soon as I finish this profile for 008’s mission in Prague. Shuffle my afternoon things to others please.” Q smiled up at R before he turned back to his computer and started to work again. R shuffled out of the office, and Q was left alone again. Q had made sure over the past two years that his underlings in Q Branch could handle anything that a Double O threw at them for a mission. Q still ran the critical missions or the ones that ended up with the agent going on their own and needing help after cocking it up. But Q didn’t handle every mission by hand anymore; his heart wasn’t into it. He ran his branch, and he ran it well.

An hour later, Q was moving into the secure room that houses the servers and then back into the smaller room behind it that held Q’s baby. After Skyfall, Q had spent all of his spare time at home working on creating the server. It was Q’s baby, and he made sure it ran perfectly all the time. Q grabbed the tablet that was hard-lined into the computer and had no Internet, Bluetooth, or any connectivity at all. He touched the screen and frowned.

The secure server as it was called by everyone in MI6 was the hard data storage for all classified information. Once each mission was closed, it was stored on the server. There was no way to access the information except through the tablet, and there was no way to modify it once it was on there. It could be added to but not taken away from. It was a secure way to make sure that no one was able to do what Silva did again. Q learned from his mistakes, even if that error wasn’t wholly his.

Q waited for the tablet to fully sync and then run a diagnostic on the machine. Q set the tablet aside and moved towards the machine to do a visual inspection. R was the only one in Q Branch with access and part of her job was checking the machine daily, as she does all of the servers. Q was worried though because the computer was connected to a single light and when something happened that light turned on, in Q’s office and it wasn’t on.

The tablet beeped as Q was finishing up his visual inspection. The diagnostic form was there, for him to see and it was all good. There was nothing wrong. Q looked at the red light and saw that it wasn’t steady anymore. It was blinking. Q watched it for two minutes before it went solid for two minutes. Q was ready with his personal tablet when it started up again.

– .-. .- .–. .–. . -.. / .- -. -.. / -.-. .- -. -. — – / –. . – / — ..- – .-.-.- / — / -.-. — — .–. .-. — — .. … . -.. / .- -. -.. / .– .. .-.. .-.. / -. — – / .–. ..- .-.. .-.. / — . .-.-.- / .–. .-.. . .- … . –..– / –.- .-.-.- / …. . .-.. .–. / — . .-.-.- / -… — -. -.. .-.-.-

Q looked at what he wrote. It wasn’t hard for his eyes and brain to work together to figure it all out.

Trapped and cannot get out. M compromised and will not pull me. Please, Q. Help me. Bond.

Q opened the access to the server and delved into why the computer was blinking in Morse code. He found when the code was uploaded. It was uploaded from M’s daily sending of files to the computer. The hack and the code should not have been possible for anyone but Q to do. So Q grabbed his personal tablet again and delved into the upload that M had done over the wired connection. He traced it back to the computer and the code into an email that had been sent from an outside source, and Q’s own technology had deleted all traces of the email. Q though had a proxy set up for something like what had been done to them before. Q found the deleted email and the string of emails like it from Bond over the course of the last two years. Every single one was signed by Bond asking about how Q was doing. There was no sign that M had ever responded other than to send new orders for Bond in Russia.

A dive for the tablet hooked to the server and Q was opening up every single file that had Bond’s named attached over the past two years. Q downloaded them to the tablet and unhooked it. A chime drew his gaze as he was grabbing his personal tablet. Q pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at it. It was a message from M. Asking him to dinner in M’s office. It wasn’t out of the blue at all. M had been asking Q to dinner once a week since two months after James has supposedly died. Q tried to think back on what had been happening over the past twenty months since then. M had acted the same for the first two months of meals. After that M had softened.

Q responded that he would be there in twenty minutes as he had to close down his work and pack up for the day. The chime back told Q that M has responded, but Q didn’t look at it. Instead, he downloaded the files to an SD card and loaded that to his personal tablet. It was personal only in that he was the only one that used it, but it was for work. Q Branch had communal tablets, one assigned to each field agent that could be used to run their ops when needed and one tablet for each system. This though was the one that Q used to hack into every other system inside of MI6. Q was master of his domain, and he didn’t like that someone was trying to stop him from being that.

There was little time to actually do what Q told M he was going to do and so Q arrived in M’s office, flushed, and ten minutes late. It was on purpose, wanting to see what M’s reaction to him being flushed was. The subtle shift that he did in his office chair told Q that he was trying to hide a very physical reaction.

“I’m sorry, Gareth. I got busy with a tricky bit of code and got lost.”

“That’s fine. Chinese is always hot for a while. I had Moneypenny pick up your favorite.” M pointed at the brown bag on the edge where Q always set down his food to eat. There was a carafe that Q knew would be full of a fruity tea that was just sweet enough to go with the Chinese. Q felt stupid. He felt like the worst failure in the world. M waved at the food and picked up his own chopsticks, pointing. Q grabbed his and forced himself to eat. He drank the tea and ate the food and kept up small talk about his work and very little on his life. All he could think about was that M had got rid of Bond to get to Q, to have Q all to himself. M had ruined Q’s life to make himself happy.

When the dinner hour was up, Q packed up his leftovers and exited M’s office. When he got to the street exit, Q binned the food and started towards his destination. While post SPECTRE, MI6 had moved back into their old home, new building, same location, Q kept a backup with the only access being water.

The only security was of Q’s own making and inside was the best system that money could buy and that Q could upgrade. Q spent the rest of the evening compiling everything. There was a single contact within MI5 that Q trusted to see it taken care of but he wasn’t going to send it via email or even mail. Instead, Q loaded it to a new tablet and left. Finding where his target was eating dinner was easy. Q bypassed the cameras around the city and found him. Anthea was seated at the table with him but was the first to see Q as soon as she did, she stood up and moved to a table on the far side of the room. Q didn’t care to try and remember which identity she was using at the moment.

“What, pray tell warrants a personal visit from the Quartermaster of MI6 to my dinner table?” Mycroft asked as soon as Q was seated at the table. Q said nothing and handed over the tablet. Mycroft frowned but took it. Turning it on and typing in the standard password that he used for all things. Q was good at his job. Mycroft read through the information at a fast speed, his frown growing by small degrees until Q sees a look on the older man’s face that he hadn’t seen in years.

“I want my hands washed of this event. I would also like help in getting Bond’s things out of storage in my basement and set back up in his flat. I have enough pictures that I am sure that a good crew can get it to look exactly the same.”

“You don’t want to go rushing into his arms when he arrives home on the jet?” Mycroft asked.

“M has never responded about me. The only conclusion that I can say that is the only reason he reached out to me was that he knew that no matter what happened, I would never leave one of my agents to die when it’s possible to save them. I am sure that Bond’s affection for me is long gone and that was what M wanted. He wanted James gone from my life.”

“Now, Q.”

“Don’t patronize me, Mycroft. I sat across from the bastard, and he panted after me this entire evening. I even ran enough to make my face flush, and it turned him are for fuck’s sake,” Q spit at Mycroft.

“I see. Well then. This will be handled by morning. From what I understand M has been grooming Miss Moneypenny to take over for him.”

“Pish tosh, he may have been grooming her, but Olivia was grooming Tanner long before Moneypenny shot Bond off a bridge. The only reason that Mallory was put in was that he was better at the politics game. A little help from Tanner and me will be all right.”

“Fine. I’ll make sure that it happens. Go home, and within the hour the crew will be there to take Bond’s things. I’ll have a plane with Anthea in the air before that. Why did you never sell that flat?” Mycroft asked.

“It’s the only place in the world I was happy. While I couldn’t stand to live there. The thought that I could just walk back in and remember it all was the only thing that kept me alive these past two years.”

“I see. I’ll put some of my agents on him for his first few days back. He’ll have to be debriefed by someone.”

“I don’t care which agency handles it.” Q stood up and looked at the tablet in Mycroft’s hands. “Keep the tablet. I’ll forward all information to it as I find it.”

“Sherlock will be jealous. He’s never got a present like this from you.”

“Try and crack the casing and it will explode,” Q said nothing else as he left, nodding briefly at Anthea before he finally exited the empty, except for them, restaurant. Q turned up the collar of his jacket and started to walk. He was sure that by then the whole of MI5’s security division was being briefed on what to do about him. Mycroft cared, and that was why he spied. Q was the one that got him that access even before Q had turned eighteen. It was what had drawn MI6 and Olivia Mansfield to him in the first place and had secured him a spot inside of their halls when he finished his degrees.

Q walked for hours. Not stopping anywhere for long at all. A few minutes here and there on bridges, or at crosswalks to watch. To look at the people of London go about their lives. He stopped outside the flat that he and James had called home and watched as James’s things were set back up in the flat. Exactly how it had been before. The workers never stopped to talk to him, and he knew that Mycroft had hacked his personal home computer to find the images, but he didn’t care. He allowed it long before because it was Mycroft’s way of checking up.

“All right there, Q?” John asked as Q made his third trip around Baker street. The sun was coming up, and Q just stared at Sherlock’s flatmate.

“Not really.”

“How about a cuppa?” John asked, his arm closing around Q’s shoulder and the man started to direct Q towards the door. The sound of a violin playing greeted Q as they moved up the steps. It was familiar and heartbreaking at the same time. Sherlock didn’t do emotions, but he did know Q. John pushed Q down into Sherlock’s chair and grabbed a blanket. “You are freezing. How long have you been walking?”

“Eight hours and thirty-nine minutes, twenty-two seconds,” Sherlock answered.

“And how did you know that?” John asked.

“Mycroft texted that Q had visited him at dinner. Q likes to wander when he is thinking.”

“I can’t believe that you call your brother by his work title. You know, Q, I asked him what your real name was and do you know what he said?” John asked from the kitchen. Q turned his head towards the man and just stared at him. John looked out at him for a second, but when Q said nothing, he went on. “He said that he deleted it. How can you delete your brother’s name from your head?”

“He likes Q better than the name that Mummy gave him. I chose to delete that and fill it in with useful information,” Sherlock said. The song that he was playing changed to one that Sherlock used to play to get Q to sleep. Q frowned at him, but Sherlock ignored him. John pressed a cup of tea into Q’s hands, and Q took a long drink of it before relaxing back into the chair. Q let the music sweep over him as he watched the sun rise around Sherlock’s form at the window. It wasn’t until Q had drained his cup that Q realized that his lethargy was more than just being tired from walking all night. He turned his head and looked at John, glaring.

“What did you lace the tea with?” Q asked, his words slurring and John just looked at him, a little freaked out.

“John is too nice to drug your tea. I merely swished that drug you gave me to knock out intruders inside of the cup that I was reasonably sure that John would give you, as well as two others. John uses the same cup, so I was safe on that front. Just let it make you sleep, Q. John helped him to the couch, or he will bitch when he wakes up.”

“Sherlock, you can’t just drug him to make him sleep.”

“He won’t get any sleep otherwise, John. His boss tried to kill his former lover, sending him out of the country to die so that he could get a leg over Q. Of course he can’t sleep.”

Q snorted at Sherlock’s summary of what happened but didn’t fight it when John helped him over to the couch. Q let sleep claim him and debated drinking from one of the other two cups when he woke up.


James escaped from the escort he had been given as soon as he could. Thirty-eight hours debriefing with Tanner and Moneypenny as well as a two-hour work up with medical was not what James had wanted to do as soon as he came back to London. It was laughable how easy it was to escape from MI6. James hailed a cab as soon as he could and paid with the money he had nicked from Tanner’s desk drawer when he hadn’t been looking. The fare to his and Q’s place was more than James would like to have spent but it got him there quicker. The security was the same as it had been the last time that James had been there.

When James opened the door, he expected something to happen. Either a startle from Q or the sound of a cat crying out. Anything really but all he got was silence. James opened the door the rest of the way and found the flat dark. A dark that James hadn’t seen since Q had first started to spend more time there. The only light was from the kitchen, and it was the pale light of the time on the stove and the microwave. James stepped into the flat and shut the door. He didn’t turn on the light. He knew the flat by heart.

James made for the bedroom, his heart dropping to his feet as he took in the darkened room, empty of Q’s things. The light from outside was enough that James could see what he needed to. There was nothing left of Q in the flat. It was the same damned flat that James had come back to after leaving with Madeline for the short time that he did. James didn’t even stop and think about what he was doing as he moved to the computer in the office. It wasn’t the computer that James had owned for years, no it was the one that Q had built for him. James wondered if Q remembered everything he had done to the computer. Even after two years of non-use, it was probably still better than the ones in the store.

It only took a few hours to figure out where Q’s was living at that time. James had gone through all of the aliases that he had known when he had gone into deep undercover and a few that just fit the scheme of names that Q used until James found the house that he was looking for. James’s Aston Martin was parked in the garage for the building, and the keys had been in the flat on the hanger by the door. The Aston’s engine purred exactly like James remembered it; he felt a tear in his eye when he gripped the steering wheel. No matter what happened, Q had kept the Aston up and running.

James drove carefully towards where Q lived. He didn’t have his license on him, James never took things like that on missions, and Tanner had yet to track it all down within MI6 or issue new ones to him. He didn’t need to be pulled over for driving. There were two parking spots in front of the house, but James took one a little farther down the street. It wasn’t hard to pick Q’s car, even if it wasn’t parked in front of the house. It was an older style, Mini Cooper. James remembered seeing its frame inside the auto body part of Q Branch many times. He hadn’t been aware that it was Q’s personal project.

There were no key holes visible on the door and no handle at that. James placed his hand on the door where a knob would have been, and the clicked open. James was stunned as he pushed the door open. Q had kept the flat for James and not all of his things in the new place but still made sure that James had access to his new location. James shut the door silently, expecting something, anything to happen when he stepped inside, but nothing did. James breathed in the smell of tea and books and home. The only thing missing was the smell of gun oil from James cleaning his personal guns. The jingle of a bell had James laughing as he watched Ozma and Mombi chasing each other in the dining room. It was almost comical, the way that both of them stopped when they realized they were not alone. Ozma recognized James first. Running full tilt at him and making such a racket that James was sure that Q would come running to figure out what was going on with his babies.

James bent down and picked up Ozma, rubbing his face all over hers as she started to purr. Mombi was threading herself around James’s feet, but all he did was crouch down so that he could give her a few pets. When she took off, James settled Ozma into his arms and followed Mombi. Mombi led James right to the master bedroom on the second floor of the house. Q was asleep on the bed, a sheet drawn over his body but the lines of it told James that Q still slept naked.

Shooing the cats out, James shut the door and started to strip. This he had missed. Feeling Q in his arms, and waking up beside him in bed. James lifted the sheet and slid into the bed. Q huffed at the chill from the sheet moving and shuddered before James wrapped himself around Q.

“James,” Q said softly, his nose twitching a little in the faint light of the room. Q’s eyes opened up, and he looked at James, his eyes going soft as he did. Q’s hand reached out and pulled James in, lips pressed on lips as soon as James got close enough. As soon as James pressed even closer, Q gasped, and James took that as permission to delve his tongue into Q’s mouth. Q tasted exactly as James had remembered. A little bit of shifting as James kissed Q like he was drowning and James was on top of Q, between his spread legs, their cocks thrusting together.

James reached out and fumbled his hand into the drawer and pulling out the lube there. James’s medical workup had given him the clear light to do as he pleased. There had been no contact with strange bodily fluids for months, so James trusted the results.

“Touch me, please,” Q whispered as he dragged James’s mouth down onto his. It was the permission that James needed. He ripped open the lube, the cap snapping off but James didn’t care, more could be bought easily. Slow and gentle could come later. After an evening spent together, talking, and just being but right then, James needed to know that he was alive, that he had made it out of deep cover and that Q still loved him.

James coated three fingers, pressing the first inside of Q. Q’s head tipped back, his eyes shuttered closed, and he moaned. Q felt tighter than he had been the first time that he and James had sex, years before. James was gentle with the second and the third, but James moved as fast as he could. Q’s mouth was open, and he was panting, whining, and even begging by the time that James pulled his fingers free of him. James coated his cock before dropping the lube off the side of the bed. He pressed inside of Q as slow as he could manage, any faster and James probably would have gone off before he got to enjoy his lover for the first time in two years. Q’s whole body was shaking as James dropped his head onto the lithe man’s shoulder, breathing in their combined scents and the scent of Q’s arousal. James was pressed inside of Q as far as he could get and he wanted to stay there for hours. He’d be happy to never leave the bed again, much less the house if it meant that he got to keep Q forever.

Q’s hand on his neck pulled him away from his thoughts and forced his head up. James looked at Q and smiled down at him. Q was looking at him through half lidded eyes, and he almost looked like he was in a dream.

“Move, please James, let me feel you inside of me.” Q’s voice was near breathless.

James did as Q asked, pulling out and sliding back in, the pace picking up with each thrust. Q grabbed ahold of James’s upper arms and didn’t let go. James wanted to kiss Q, but he couldn’t make himself lean in to do it, he was too enraptured by Q’s face as he was fucked.

Q’s words barely made sense to James, he was uttering them too fast and too quiet, but as James finally broke his own want of seeing Q’s face to kiss him, Q started to speak faster.

“I love you so much,” Q was uttering over and over again. The pure emotions in the words had James orgasming. He slammed into Q one last time, as hard as he could and emptied himself inside of his lover. James barely brushed his hand over Q’s cock before the younger man was coming as well. James made himself stay up and not press Q into the bed because if he did that, he would fall asleep and Q didn’t like that. Q liked to be cleaned up. James waited until he was fully softened before he slowly slid out of Q and moved towards the bathroom.

A few minutes spent cleaning himself up, and James was walking back to the bedroom, finding Q asleep on his front in the bed. James chuckled to himself as he cleaned up Q. Weariness crept over James as he threw the rag towards the bathroom and slid into the bed. He laid down on his back, waiting for Q to shift over and cuddle into him. It didn’t take long. James looked around the room, and the sparkle of something caught his eye. He reached out to the lamp and grabbed the ring that was on a hook there. James knew that ring. The last time he had seen it was the day he went on what he thought was an in and out mission but had ended up being him going into deep undercover. James picked the ring off the hook it was on and slipped it on Q’s finger that rested on his chest. James lifted that hand up to kiss the ring and the skin around it. James was going to fight to get what he wanted, what he knew Q still wanted.

James laid there with Q in his arms for as long as he could before actually fall asleep.


Q woke up warm, warmer than he had been in a long time. He felt the weight of the blankets on top of him and mused that he had to have got cold enough to cover up in the night for once. Q tried to roll over, but the ache in his backside stopped him. Q tried to remember if he had gone drinking the night before but his mouth tasted fine. Then he realized there were no cats on him. Ozma and Mombi were not there. The weight across his side wasn’t a cat, it was an arm. Q reached over for his glasses and slipped them on. The arm was familiar. There were a few more scars, but it was James. Q’s gut started to churn. He hadn’t got drunk, but it did seem that he had let Bond fuck him.

Slipping out from under James’s arm, Q looked down at him. He was dead asleep. Q felt his stomach churn even more at the fact that James could even sleep in bed with him and sleep soundly enough to where Q getting out of bed wouldn’t wake him.

Q didn’t even wait. He grabbed his clothes from the day before, skipping his pants. He had spare pants at work. He didn’t stop to check on the cat’s food and water. Instead, he just threw his clothes on, shoving his feet into his shoes on with no socks. He heard his cats calling out to him, but he didn’t stop. He was gone before they reached him. Q closed the door as softly as he could. There was little that Q could do except work. He would work until he couldn’t anymore.

Facing problems had never been a strong suit of Q’s. It was why he had hidden himself away in MI6, never coming out to face life. James had been the one thing that he had done for himself to make himself happy.

Q made it to the tube just as it was finishing boarding. He half expected to see James running after him as the doors closed and he turned to look out. There was no one though. Q moved through and settled in on a seat where no one else was sitting, probably to do with the furious looking man across from him. Q reached into his bag and pulled out his pen and paper, starting to work on the list of things he needed to do for the day. Q used the fringe of his hair to keep an eye on the man as he worked. When the man stood up and looked like he was going to try and fuck with Q, Q primed the pen by clicking it four times quickly. As soon as the man’s hand reached out for Q’s throat, Q struck. He jammed the pen into the man’s arm, and a discharge of electricity dropped the man to the floor of the car. Q looked at him as the man’s eyes were dazed.

“I’d suggest staying down. I have seven more pens just like this,” Q said as they neared the station. The man groaned, and the other passengers on the tube gave Q a wide path as he moved towards to the doors to leave. Q was actually shocked that a cop wasn’t waiting for him at the stairs out of the tube. No one was yelling that he had attacked someone, no one was trying to stop Q. Still, Q made his way out of the station as quick as he could.

Vauxhall loomed over Q as he made his way to the entrance that he used. The guards there smiled at him as he scanned his bag, his hand, and his eye.

“Good morning,” Q said, plastering a smile on his face. The guard smiled back and nodded his head. The man rarely spoke. Q likened him to the Queen’s Guard. Q had only heard him speak once and it was when he was helping to usher people out after Silva’s explosion. Q looked at him once more before he stepped past him. It was early, so there was no queue of people to get inside. Q took three steps before he moved back towards the guard. As soon as the man heard Q’s steps, he turned to face him. “Do you…I…”

“I’ll let you know if Agent Bond arrives. There is already a standing order to alert Q Branch the moment he arrives. Last I knew a decision had not been made on whether he was staying with MI6 or not.”

“Thank you,” Q said, this time the smile wasn’t as forced. The guard nodded his head. Q looked again at the number attached to his badge. Just like all Q had was a Q, he had one. Q turned and made his way towards his branch as quick as he could. The best way to not be caught by James was to make sure that he wasn’t in the open.

Inside Q Branch, Q set himself into one of the more secure labs. He had his work laptop with him and would be able to work in there for hours without leaving. The good thing was that once Q set security on it, no one would be able to get inside. Short of blasting a hole in the wall.

Q set up with his back to the window in the door and worked. He kept the security feed up, and he knew when James came through an hour and a half later. James stood outside the door, staring at the camera for an hour before he finally wandered away. Q was able to focus on work again at that point. Q lost himself in his work for eight hours. When Q looked up at the camera feed, it was gone. Something was covering it. Q had two options, message one of the other members of the branch and had them come and clean it off or go out there on his own. There was no way that James was still out there. His attention span wasn’t that long when he wasn’t on a mission.

“I thought you were going to stay in there forever,” James said as Q opened the door. Before Q could shut it, James’s hand was right there. Q stared at the hand that was gripping the doorjamb. Q almost slammed the door shut on his hand, but he couldn’t hurt James. Q dropped his hand from the door and stepped back into the lab. James pushed himself up to his feet and slipped inside before Q could even think of doing anything.

“I’m sorry,” Q said.

“What are you sorry for?” James asked. He was moving towards Q like Q was a wounded animal. Q was acting like a cornered, wounded animal. His eyes were darting around, and James was sure that as soon as Q got his wits about him, James was going to lose his ability to keep Q in the room. Unless he could get Q settled first.

“I abandoned you.”

“Tanner gave me the reports. The DNA tests run on the blood found at the scene as well as the body. I would have believed that was me as well because why would M lie? What purpose would he have for lying to you about this? You trusted him, and he used that against you. The hope of you was the only thing that allowed me to survive, Q. I fought to come home, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Q found a corner and sunk down into it. He didn’t stop moving until his ass was on the ground. James moved and sat down in front of him. Q had nothing in his hands, and there was nothing in the range of Q’s reach so James felt safe getting as close as he could.

“I need to-” Q stopped as James reached out and touched his arm. Q didn’t jerk his hands away, but he did just stare at James’s hand on him. “How can you-”

“Q, Walmond, please. I don’t hate me. As soon as I realized that there was nothing from you and it wasn’t just you being upset about the mission that was taking me away from you so close to us getting engaged, I started to try and get myself out. My contacts were all blocked. Then when I really began to push six months ago, all of my contacts ended up dead, all at the hands of other Double-O’s. I got to talk to one, and he had been sent by M and hadn’t been kitted out by you. Before we could get out together, Russian mob killed him and tried to kill me. That’s why I started to hack MI6. I remembered enough of what you taught me and taught myself the rest. For three months I kept on. You got me out as soon as you could. YOU. You never failed me. I failed you by not figuring this out before now.”

“No.” Q drew his arm up, taking James’s hand and kissing the back of it. James realized that Q wasn’t quite sure that James was real.

“Tanner offered me a vacation if I wanted to take up my position as a trainer and a helper of Q Branch. Two months, paid trip to wherever we want. I’ll be getting back pay, but Tanner negotiated the trip instead of taking two years of combat pay. I’ll just get my standard pay. We can work out flats later when we get back. I can’t lose you, Q.”

“You…still want me?”

“I still love you. I will always come home for you if I can. I might be broken, but I will come back.” James lifted up again, this time he kissed the finger where he had slipped the ring on Q’s finger earlier that morning. Q hadn’t taken it off. “Tanner is afraid that if I don’t take the vacation Psych might riot and there is something of you having almost a year built of up of vacation and personal leave, so two months isn’t going to hurt you.”

“No, I have the time. I just…my fear of flying is stronger. I couldn’t even allow Moneypenny to give me medicine when that conference was happening in Japan. R went in my place.”

“So something a little less than around the world. What about a cruise? I’m sure that is one that goes around the world.”

“There is. I was debating it to get away to make everyone happy.”

“Why everyone?”

“No one has left me alone. Moneypenny hovers. I had to set my security to keep her out and even knock her out when she wouldn’t take a hint. R hovers less but makes sure that anything big, she knows first to prepare. I thought a cruise would be good. There is one leaving Belfast in two weeks. I have the leave paperwork all filled out, and I can copy it over for you just as easy. I can book it today…”

“Go ahead. We have two weeks to get ready. I’ll head home to take care of Mombi and Ozma. I would like it if you came home tonight, but I won’t push. I know now that you weren’t awake for what happened this morning and I am sorry. I didn’t see it.”

“No, it was all right. I was aware enough. I thought it was a dream, James. I’ve dreamed so much of it. You slipping in during the night and waking me up like that. I wasn’t able to tell the difference because I wanted it so much. I’ve woke up aching because I swore I could feel you moving inside of me.”

“You aren’t going to wake up like that anymore. I promise. Every single night I am going to go to sleep right beside you from now until we both die.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I told Tanner that I wasn’t going anywhere anymore. No ops, no missions, nothing like that or I would just leave MI6.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Tanner agreed but that we would discuss day trips to places on an as needed basis. Tanner doesn’t want me out and about in the world. I think he doesn’t want Bond ulcers like I used to give both Ms.”

“Take me home, James.” Q leaned into James as they both raised up. Q barely remembered the trek through the building. He was sure that there were eyes on them the entire way out, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that James was there, holding him. Q knew the feel and the smell of James’s Aston even though he hadn’t been inside of it for over a year. Q only looked up when he realized that James wasn’t getting inside as quick as he should have. Q saw him standing at the side of the car, a piece of paper in his hand. After staring at it for nearly a minute, James finally got into the car.

“Your brother wants you to know that there is a two hour period tomorrow for a final fitting for suits for the both of us at his tailor followed by a quick date to get married.”

“Which one?”

“It only says your darling brother.”

“Then it’s from Sherlock but in response to whatever Mycroft has set up. I’ll phone him in the morning.”

“It’s up to you, Q. We could take the cruise as a honeymooning couple. I know that two years apart does not exactly mean that you will want to marry me.”

“I kept the ring. I wore it today because I couldn’t take it off. I don’t mind a quick wedding. I’d rather not have a big wedding and anything else, but this would be that. We can hold a reception when we get back.”

“That works for me. So home to sleep and then married in the morning?” James asked. Q nodded. Q still felt numb, but the feeling was coming back, starting in the middle of his body and working out. He knew that getting married wasn’t going to fix the problems that they were sure to have, but it would mean something more to the both of them that they want this. There would be no easy out, the rings on their fingers would tell them that they are in this together, no matter what happens. Because for Q, there was no one else for him. He’d buried his heart when he had buried James but now his heart was free again, and it only wanted James.
The End


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