Sometimes It Just Gets Too Much
Chapter 1.
Ever since Bond had returned from his little escapade to 'normal' life with Dr. Madeleine Swann, he had been behaving rather oddly in Q's opinion. He could not be sure of the reason behind this of course, but the teenager – being a Holmes and all – thought he might have a pretty good idea, so he could without any problems hazard a guess. It didn't mean he felt it was the right time to bring it up in a conversation with the man; not yet anyway. 007 would talk about it on his own accord when he felt it was the right time to do so; there was no reason or use pushing him.
That occasion seemed to finally have arrived on a rainy Wednesday evening, roughly two weeks after the agent's return to duty. Q had just finished his work – three days straight in HQ and two difficult missions to guide during that time was nothing new for him but still, it had left him rather tired and wishing for nothing more than to return home and sleep, sleep, sleep – and after having said goodbye to the guards at the main gate, started the short walk towards the nearest subway station with every intention to get home as soon as possible to do just that.
He was just about to quickly descend the stairs at the station to finally get out of the rain when he suddenly got the feeling that someone was following him, trying to get his attention. He turned around to find 007 and-
"Dr. Swann, Bond. To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting both of you here?" – He knew the agent had requested a few days off so he shouldn't be anywhere near HQ, and Dr. Swann had nothing to do there at any time in his opinion.
"Q, is it a right time for us to talk?" – Asked Bond, so uncharacteristically nervous that the boy didn't have the heart to tell him that actually no, it was not a right time, for he was nearly collapsing from pure exhaustion and he'd have to come back in just a few hours again the next day. He found himself saying instead:
"Yeah, well… Why not?" – Bond seemed so relieved, Q couldn't bring himself to regret his decision.
Bond put an arm around his shoulders and steered him back the way he had come from, so that the three of them made a beeline towards his car (the one he had taken with him when he had left but that was something nobody ever mentioned because 1. there was no explanation as to why Q had let him take the Government's property without a fight, 2. it was still listed as missing and nobody wanted to bother changing that status) that miraculously happened to appear parking by the MI6 building out of nowhere – that or maybe Q had just been already half asleep when he had passed by it just a few minutes ago.
"You're like a zombie, it's not safe. Somebody could snatch you and you wouldn't even notice. You didn't recognize the car even though you had to walk around it or that we followed behind you for two minutes to catch up to you."
Oh, the second option then… Right, of course, what was he thinking? K.I.T. existed only in television… Well, maybe he could build it. That would be fun! A talking car that appeared upon request just at the right time when you needed it… That was something to consider, the agents would surely be ecstatic! A future project, maybe for-
"Q? Q, Q!"
"Oh, what?" – When did they get into the car? And how come they were already driving? He didn't remember any of it. He concluded, with his logic of a genius, that he had to be more tired than he had originally thought… And that was bad because Bond already looked concerned and the teenager had had too much experience in the past with how irritating a worried Double-O could get… There was that time when-
"I just asked where you wanted to go: to my flat or to yours?" – Repeated Bond probably at least the third time while Dr. Swann just looked uninterested, staring determinedly straight ahead at the road from her position on the front passenger seat, pointedly ignoring the rain-soaked and deadly tired boy on the rear seat.
"Can it be mine? I'm totally done for, I think I need a shower, at least five mugful of tea and to get comfortable."
"Of course, no problem. But if you think you're not up to talking now we could do it some other time… You seem exhausted."
"No, no. It'll be fine, just let me pull myself together a little bit first."
They all agreed and proceeded to drive to Q's flat. Obviously Bond knew the direction and also had a key so he didn't have to ask anything. Luckily, because Q fell asleep right away and couldn't have been of any help anyway.
Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q
When Q woke up some time later, he found himself lying on his own bed, still in his working clothes but with his shoes and coat gone. He could hear faint voices from outside of his room – Bond and Dr. Swann were trying and failing at a quiet whisper among each other in the kitchen, as it seemed like they were in the middle of a heated argument, past the stage where they had still been able to properly control their volume.
"I really don't understand why we have to talk to him about us in the first place, James. Contrary to what you seem to believe, he's not really your little brother. Or anyone for that matter whom you own an explanation to. I'm sure he has his own family to go to and you have your own private life with me now that has nothing to do with that boy."
"I've told you more than once already, Madeleine: if you choose to be with me, then the boy and I: we're a package. He's been like a little brother to me for months, and I'm not about the change that for anyone – not even for you, so don't look at me like that. That's exactly what I'm going to tell him when he wakes up and that's what the both of us have talked about a lot. What's the matter with you; I thought you understood it?" – Bond sounded exasperated and also slightly irritated.
"I don't really have any other choice but to accept it, do I? I won't give up my relationship with you over a 13-year-old child!"
"He'll be seventeen next month."
"Really? He doesn't look a day over 13… Well, whatever, he could be fifty for all I care. I just don't understand. He's good with computers, and so what? What do you have to do with this?"
"He's the Quartermaster, the one who makes our weapons, assigns us missions, guides us through them, debriefs us… He takes care of us and in turn: we take care of him. I've already explained this to you what feels like a hundred times, and that shouldn't be so hard to see; you're a psychologist for God's sake, you should be more understanding!"
"I don't work with children and I don't see how my profession has anything to do with the fact that I don't wish to share my private life with a stranger. Especially if said stranger is a mere child."
Q decided he had heard enough and got out of bed. He quickly showered and changed into his pajamas then put on a bathrobe on top of it. His hair was still damp when he walked into the direction of the kitchen to wait in the door to be acknowledged. Bond – being a Double-O and all – didn't need more than a second to feel the teenager's eyes on the back of his head and turned around to greet him.
"Oh, Q, you're awake! Good, because the pasta is nearly ready and then we can eat." – Announced 007 and motioned to the pot with boiling water. – "I've made spaghetti with meatballs and spicy tomato sauce for us all."
"You cooked? But I don't remember having any ingredients in the fridge or in the cupboards…" – Actually, the boy was sure he hadn't had anything because the last time someone had used his kitchen for anything more than making tea, it had been Alec Trevelyan burning the last crumbs of bread in the toaster and that too had been over two weeks ago.
"You didn't have anything which is also something we'll talk about later. Luckily, I know you, so we brought these things with us. I told you about it in the car but you must have been already asleep by then."
"Oh" – Was all Q could answer to that. – "How did you come in without setting off the alarm? I know I haven't given you the new combination to deactivate it."
"No, you haven't. But since you were asleep, I called Bill and he told me the code. Apparently, it isn't a secret when it comes to him." – Did Q imagine it or did the agent really sound a bit hurt?
"You weren't here when I changed it. I wanted to tell you, I just forgot. Now, you know it. I promise to tell you first the next time there's s change, all right?" – He shrugged then took a peek into the pot on the stove. – "This smells delicious."
"It will also taste delicious, I can assure you: I'm a good cook." – He really was; everyone who knew him was privy to that information about him. Nobody else would believe it though. Who would think that an agent of MI6 with a license to kill could have such a harmless hobby like cooking and baking? (Well, harmless unless Alec or Q were attempting it… then it was just as deadly as anything else they did during working hours. And as Q had been unfortunate enough to learn, Moneypenny wasn't much better than them either.) – "Are you hungry? And there's only one good answer to that so think about it hard and long before you say something!"
"I actually am." – He was. He hadn't eaten anything at all but half an apple the whole time he had been working… so, three days, it had to be. No wonder he was feeling quite light-headed.
"Good answer."
"Well, I'm not called a genius for nothing, am I?"
Q set the table while Bond served the dinner (Dr. Swann didn't lift a finger to help them with anything, just sat at the table waiting for the food to mysteriously appear in front of her, the teenager noted – though he actually didn't really mind she wasn't snooping around in his home) and the three of them sat down to eat. The food was honestly marvelous! The boy said so and Bond's proud smile brightened the whole room.
"Why, I told you so!" – Trust him to be cocky about his cooking-skills too… - "So, Q, are you awake enough for us to talk now?"
"I guess…" – He wondered if he should mention what he had involuntarily overheard. He then decided against it and just let the agent proceed with the explanation.
"Well, as you very well know, after the whole Spectre-fiasco I wanted to leave this life behind and retire for good. I wanted to go abroad and live with Madeleine a fairly normal, as average as possible, life."
Dr. Swann nodded grimly.
"Yes, that was the original idea; that was what we both wanted. It was good while it lasted." – She also gave Bond a reproachful glare.
Q bit back a very mean comment and just listened instead, turning towards 007 and tried to completely block out the woman's presence from his line of vision and from his mind. She was irritating him and worsening his headache.
"Yeah, well… I found it's not so easy to leave. I missed the job, the people, my friends and family… and you."
"You were missed too. Alec was unbearable. Well, more so than normal I mean. I was sure you'd come back. I didn't let them sell your flat or assign the number '007' to anyone else. I was called to M's office and he told me they wanted to bring back 0012 in your place…" – He hoped he didn't sound as scared and lost as these memories made him feel but the tender look on the older man's face told him he most probably did.
"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you before or during my absence… Well, but as I said, I felt I needed to return. It's my life and I also need to work, I just can't sit still."
"Of course you can't. Once an agent, always an agent; everyone knows that."
Dr. Swann dropped her fork and had to get up to retrieve it, muttering a half-hearted, angry apology for the interruption. The boys totally ignored her.
"Madeleine didn't want to live in England but in the end decided to accompany me and try to make a home here. She's living with me in my flat now as you may know."
"Yes, so I've heard." – Q didn't even bother to hide his less-than-happy attitude about this arrangement. Of course he knew it wasn't his business in any way, Dr. Swann was right about that, but he still didn't have to like her, did he? After all she wasn't making a secret about disliking him either.
"I would like you to know that it won't change anything for you. I still want you to come and go in my flat as you wish and that you may call me anytime; even if it's in the middle of the night."
Q chanced a glance at Dr. Swann and saw that she definitely didn't share this sentiment and would rather jump down a cleft than have Q marching into their flat unannounced – or be there in any way, anytime. She also most probably wouldn't be very tolerant about midnight calls just because the boy had a sudden brilliant idea and decided he wanted to run a test with the agent first thing in the morning the next day. (All right, it had only happened once or twice… at the very most three times, so what's the big deal!? It wasn't his fault his brain just couldn't keep itself to working hours and sudden ideas seemed to spring out of nowhere at the most improbable of times… Bond had been rather tolerant about these in the past.)
The teenager couldn't help the skeptical expression that crossed his face.
"No, Q, really, please: I mean it! I don't want anything to change. I know you're not used to any of us having a partner; that's because it's absolutely not common, that's true… But you have to understand that you're still family, too. That hasn't changed and won't ever."
"I know that."
"Then why haven't you come over to me since I've been back…?"
"I… I have been very busy." – Well, that was true at least.
"You're always very busy, nothing new there… And still, you used to find the time to visit me at least once a week. Now I've been back for over two and we haven't even been able to properly talk yet."
"I have been-"
"Busy. Yes, I know… Q, are you angry with me?"
"No, I'm not." – He wasn't, was he? Sure, he would have wished the agent would have talked to him about wanting to leave instead of just turning his back on them and walking off on the opposite side of the bridge, leaving them standing there flabbergasted. Or that he would have talked to him instead of just demanding the car he had been spending many-many hours on to get it back into working order for the agent, just because he knew that was a dream-car for Bond. Or that he would have at least once or twice talked to him while he had been away: phones were there for a reason! He could also have written as he had actually promised to do. Or… Oh, well, all right, maybe he was a bit resentful…
"Yes, you actually are." – That was the first time Dr. Swann had said anything directly to him and it already made Q want to throw her out of his flat… What a beginning! – "You are jealous that James won't have so much time for you like he used to. You can't accept the fact that he has someone more important in his life now than you are."
Q closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then to twenty. Then he continued because it still hadn't helped.
"Madeleine, please, nobody is talking about jealousy here-"
Q's counting reached fifty but he now felt he needed to take more drastic measures to not explode.
"Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Swann? Because then I'll have to seriously reconsider the idea I presented M yesterday."
"What idea, Q?" – Asked Bond confused.
"Well, I know that Dr. Swann is trying to find work here in London, and that she hasn't got anything yet. I also heard that Dr. Rothberger is planning to retire next month – I guess, working with post-mission agents for years can be a bit overwhelming – so I asked M if he would consider hiring Dr. Swann for the position; if she would like to come, of course. I know, Dr. Swann, that you don't really want anything to do with the world of espionage but that way you could work in MI6 so James wouldn't have to keep everything he does daily secret from you. Also it could give the two of you more of a chance of spending time together."
Bond looked absolutely abashed and even Dr. Swann looked a little bit touched.
"Wow, Q, I don't know what to say… It's very considerate of you!" – Exclaimed 007.
"Yeah, well… it's nothing, really. Just an idea."
"And what did M say?"
"He basically left the decision up to me but said it would be my job arranging it with HR if I think it's a good idea having a couple working for MI6. He hates dealing with that department and the paperwork that comes with things like that… I don't mind; I have a lot of practice from when I had to hire all my minions when I became the Quartermaster."
"I didn't know Dr. Rothberger wanted to retire…" – Mused Bond.
"Well, I might have mentioned to him he'd have to do your re-evaluation after your extended absence soon… I guess that did the rest. Somehow he wasn't so keen about the idea of having to work with you for a longer period of time. I have no clue why though, I didn't expect this reaction from him."
"Sure; I bet you didn't. Q, I don't know how to thank you for even thinking about this."
"It's fine, really. It's not much, just an opportunity." – Q felt embarrassed, he'd never been able to cope well with gratitude directed at him.
"And what exactly would be my task?" – Inquired Dr. Swann. She seemed less grateful but at least a little more friendly now.
"Well, the usual: you'd have to do the psychical evaluations of new agents when they begin working by MI6 and then once every year after that for everyone except for M and all the department heads (as leaders, we're required to do our psychical by independent professionals, so we go over to MI5 and the leaders there will come to you to avoid having to work with your superiors); you talk to them and write a report about them when they return from a difficult or longer mission and they need help to get back to everyday life, or basically when something happens that calls for a psychologist's help. You'd need to have open, voluntarily counseling sessions – though it's not typical for agents to make use of it so it's just basically a time you need to be available –, and generally be accessible to all employees, not just agents. It's not much different from any other psychologist's work, aside from the fact that your past experiences and knowledge about military life can be of great help to understand the situations and problems the agents may face."
"I wouldn't be asked to accompany anyone on a mission or go into field?"
"Of course not, you don't have to worry about anything like that. As I said: it's just like any other job you would be doing in your profession with the special circumstance that most of your patients are agents and in turn you wouldn't have to deal with strangers coming in from the street. It's a friendly environment, really, and there are two other psychologists, so you wouldn't have to do it alone: you'd work in shifts. You of course wouldn't be allowed to work with James for example."
"That sounds to be just what I am looking for…"
"Then consider it, Madeleine! Talk to HR, it still doesn't oblige you to anything." – Bond looked hopeful, he probably realized that this was literally the only way they had a chance at making this relationship work. Q felt he had done the right thing, even if he in the reality had had to intervene into the flow of things a tiny bit more than he had just admitted. It was to remain his secret for… well, preferably forever.
"I… I think I will. When could I do it?"
"Tomorrow, if you want to. I'll talk to HR first thing in the morning and get you an appointment for the afternoon."
"That would be fantastic. Thank you."
"You're welcome." – Q knew they'd most probably never become fast friends but he was willing to tolerate – and even help – her as a favor to Bond. In comparison to all the things he'd had to do and risk for the agent in the past, this was really nothing.
They continued lunch while Bond excitedly told Q about how much he was looking forward to his new life with Madeleine and continuing his beloved work. He also again and again pleaded with the boy to not stop going over to him and be his friend. Q in turn assured him repeatedly he would never stop being his friend and would of course still visit him regularly. Dr. Swann still looked like he wanted to murder someone – most probably Q – by all occasions when the conversation turned into that direction but other than that she really didn't say much, clearly preferring to eat in silence instead.
It was well after 10 PM when they finished (even Q having eaten most of what had been put on his plate while the other two had had two helpings of the delicious food 007 had made), and Q insisted he do the washing up because the cook shouldn't do it and also because (though that latter was only in his thoughts, not spoken out loud) he didn't expect Dr. Swann to even think about helping.
He was therefore very pleasantly surprised when the psychologist herself offered to assist by wiping the plates. So they sent Bond into the living room to watch something on television while the both of them remained in the kitchen and started to work.
Q was just about to voice his gratitude to her for helping when she grabbed his arm rather painfully (nearly making him drop the fork he had been about to wash) and whispered threateningly into his ear:
"I know very well what you are doing, boy." – Well, that made only one of them, because Q honestly didn't have so much as inkling about what she was referring to… But he didn't have time to question her because the explanation soon followed. – "You want to make James feel in debt to you so that you can demand his attention in the future."
Q couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was so ridiculous and he was so tired, that he couldn't say anything to that accusation, so he only burst out in uncontrollable laugh.
"What? Do you find your tactic that funny?"
"My 'tactic'? Dr. Swann, I'm honestly starting to worry that recommending you for the position was a very bad idea on my part. I get that you don't like me but is that nonsense really the best you can come up with?"
"And just why is that so 'nonsense'?"
Oh, for God's sake, he was too tired for that now!
"Lady, you really don't seem to know anything about MI6 at all. Let me spell it out for you very clearly so that even you'll have a chance to get it: I-am-the-Quartermaster. It is my job to work with the agents at all times, oversee their missions, guide them and support them in any way possible. Do you even have an idea how many past occasions I could call to James' mind if I wanted to make him feel indebted to me? Ever since I have known him, he has made it his first priority to get me into trouble and vindicate unauthorized favors from me for himself. Two of them you have personally experienced: one of which nearly cost me my life while both could have cost me my job. I sure wouldn't need to do him any such ridiculous courtesies as getting his Damsel in Distress a job-recommendation just to 'demand his attention'."
"So, you're telling me you're really doing it for me?"
"No, I never said that; of course I'm not doing it for you. Obviously, I care about his happiness and if it's – out of some, for me totally incomprehensible reason – only possible with you then I am going to do anything to support him even in that and help him if I have the means. But I'd do that for any of them and I'm not expecting anything in return."
"Ah, of course, I can totally picture you as Mother Teresa."
"And unfortunately, I don't even have to try to picture you as disgustingly jealous because you are sadly standing in my kitchen in front of me and as dismal as it is: this is reality."
"You think you're very smart, don't you."
"No, I really don't. Others seem to think so though… You would have to ask them for the reason if you're really interested."
She shook him in rage.
"You won't take him away from me. He's mine."
"It's funny; I have always had the misbelief that he was a sovereign person. Thank you for clearing things up; it always makes me feel like I had a profitable day when I learn new things."
"You're just a spoiled little brat."
"And you're overstaying your welcome."
"We're going right now."
"See that you do."
With that she shoved Q away, plastered a false smile on her face and left the kitchen to join 007 in the living room.
Bond was sprawled out half-asleep on the sofa and only looked up when Dr. Swann caressed his cheeks.
"Love, it's getting late, we should go. The boy needs to sleep."
"Oh, did you finish already?"
"Yes, between the two of us, it really wasn't so much work. Right, Q?"
Sickened by her pretended friendliness, Q thought about the dirty dishes still piled in the sink, waiting for him to clean them and put them away.
"Right, of course. I had help after all."
Bond looked at him worriedly, sensing that something had happened.
"Q? Is everything all right? Is your arm hurting? Why are you rubbing it?"
"What? Oh, no, I mean, yes: I'm fine. I'm just a little cold, that's all."
"Cold? Are you getting sick? Maybe you should stay home tomorrow, you are working yourself to death, I swear."
"I'll be fine, don't worry. I'm just tired, that's all. I'm going to go to sleep and then everything will be just magnificent by tomorrow."
"Well, all right then, if you're sure…"
"I am, don't worry."
"Okay, we won't keep you awake then any longer." – He got up and gathered their coats and bags. – "We'll meet you then tomorrow in Headquarters before Madeleine's interview with HR?"
Q looked at Dr. Swann. She nodded and smiled sweetly.
"I'm so glad about the opportunity!"
The teenager sighed. There was no escaping from it without letting the agent know what a little backstabber monster of a girlfriend he had.
"Yeah, of course. I'll call you once I'll have arranged to appointment."
They all said their goodbyes (Q noticeably cringed when Dr. Swann hugged him, 'accidentally' applying pressure to his hurting arms and gave him a kiss on his forehead), and the two adults left. The boy then went back to the kitchen to clean up the mess, not understanding how things could turn to bad so quickly.
'What a day…'
Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q
While doing the washing up (rather slowly, thanks to the exhaustion and the pain in his arms) Q was thinking about Dr. Swann's accusations. It hurt him deeply that she would think he was doing it out of selfish reasons, because it was actually quite the contrary. What had he to lose anyway? He had nothing whatsoever… Not like James and Dr. Swann.
Annabel and him had been writing each other during the whole summer holidays that followed his undercover mission. In August, she had traveled with her parents and older sister to France and had told him in countless e-mails all about what a beautiful and dreamlike city Paris was and how much fun they'd been having visiting Disneyland and sightseeing. In turn, he hadn't been able to tell her much interesting things about his own summer, mainly because he hadn't been doing anything but a lot of top secret stuff that involved coordinating dangerous and deadly missions, building gadgets, assigning and overseeing agents' trainings as well as hacking his way into any coded files and systems he had come across… The usual for him and unimaginable for anyone else who wasn't a spy or an agent. But that didn't seem to discourage her at all. Well, not at first at any rate…
Q hadn't thought much of it when her e-mails had become less and less frequent in September, thinking it was natural for her not to have so much time to write during the new school year. Besides, he had been busy trying to negotiate for Bond not to be permanently pulled from duty and his number reassigned just because he had taken a little 'holiday' with Dr. Madeleine Swann. (In the 'beautiful and dreamlike' Paris of course he had never ever been to but everyone else seemed to frequent as if it were just down the street…) He just hadn't noticed the time flying with the stress and constant pressure he had been under.
At the end of September, on the 25th (a date he would most likely never forget) he had gotten an e-mail from her again. In that message, Annabel had guiltily confessed of having met a boy while shopping for school things right before the semester's beginning in the same shopping center they had been to when they had watched the movie. The boy lived not far away from her and went to school just in the town next to them. He was 17 and a real gentleman, and they were able to meet every day after school and spend all weekends together. She was in love with him. She couldn't stop apologizing after that, repeating over and over how she hadn't been planning to fall in love, how it had just happened and how very-very sorry she was about it. She assured him it was not because of him; that he, Q, was her very first love and that she would never forget him, and she hoped they'd have the opportunity to meet again someday and would be able to talk without hard feelings, as friends.
Upon reading each word, Q felt like he could have screamed and/or cried right then and there. Of course, it had not been possible: he had been in Q-Branch, just about to get in contact with 006 to help him get through his assignment: finding and liquidating a very dangerous drug baron that had been terrorizing Prague for months. He had needed to pull himself together and focus. Lives had depended on it. It had not been easy…
When much-much later (around two or three days, he couldn't really tell because he might have fallen unconscious at some point in his office from exhaustion) he had finally managed to get home, he had reread the e-mail at least ten times, even though he, with his photographic memory, had known the whole thing by heard after the first time he had read it. He also had been able to think about things that night a bit. (Because however tired he had been, sleep had evaded him after having received such news… Oh, the following days had been fun. He didn't think he had ever been that tired in his life. At least it had helped him not to think about Annabel.)
He had found he couldn't begrudge the girl for having found someone else, someone more available. Someone who was real and normal. Honestly: he had suspected all along that a relationship like that was destined to failure from the very beginning. How could it work when all they had where a few e-mails every once in a while, in which he wasn't even able to tell her anything about himself? Actually, she really didn't know anything about him… There were only so many books and movies they could talk about. Especially since Q didn't even have the time to be up to date with those either.
He had tried to convince himself that it was better this way. He thought it had been pretty unfair of him to leave her right after… Whatever, this way he at least knew she wasn't alone, waiting for his e-mails that didn't give her any comfort or promise for a future together. He wanted her to be happy. She was happy now. It was all fabulous. And so what if now he was alone? Well… not a big change there, was it? Nothing new, nothing to get worked up over.
If anything, he had become richer with an important lesson: the basis of a real, adult relationship was the quality time spent together, and also being able to count on each other in the everyday life. If being with Dr. Swann was really so important for Bond that he had brought her to London to live with him, he couldn't keep disappearing and spending days on end without her (outside of missions, of course, because if work called for it, she had to understand it), having to keep his work and life secret. As Q saw it, this could all be solved by Dr. Swann working with them, being an insider: one of them. They didn't really have to have much secrets among themselves.
That's why he would help her get a job if she so wished. For Bond's happiness. To make sure he wouldn't want to leave again. James Bond was one of his best friends, and also one of his agents. It was his duty as a friend and as the Quartermaster to make sure Bond and all the others were happy and content.
Q went to bed, thinking about how he had also lost Michael's friendship he had so much treasured during his time at school. Life was just shitty, really… At the end of the day, it was always just him alone. The least he could do was making sure it didn't happen to anyone else around him. If you can't help yourself, help others – he thought as he fell asleep.