It was hot. Not necessarily unpleasant hot. But it was definitely warm enough that he was starting to feel the uncomfortable prickles on his skin. Stepping away from the small hoard of people, Q made his way to the bar and ordered another vodka and orange. Extra ice.

The multicoloured tainted windows couldn't hide the darkness outside. As the door opened admitting another group of giggling twenty-somethings, Q felt a brief rush of cold air and sighed from the brief relief. The date was the 19th of December and he was standing at the bar of a random pub slash club (he couldn't decide which) with many of his colleagues from MI6. It was their Christmas party, organised just two days before because someone had forgotten to arrange it.

Tinsel adorned the walls and flashing fairy lights accompanied the strobe lights that lit up one half of the pub/club. That was where Moneypenny was dancing rather enthusiastically. She'd tried to rope Q into dancing but to no avail. To make up for his lack of enthusiasm, she seemed to have doubled her efforts to bring the room alive. So far she had gained a few members that supported her cause, three of Q's colleagues from Q-branch and 004. Quite an achievement.

Someone approached and leant against the bar next to Q's left elbow.

"Don't feel like joining them?"

"I didn't expect you to be here 007."

"I'm full of surprises."

"Aren't you just," Q said, turning finally to face the agent. "There was I thinking that it was impossible for Christmas to come early and then you go and return a piece of my equipment completely undamaged."

"How do you know I haven't got you another present? I could be your secret santa."

"I doubt that 007 seeing as you didn't even put your name on the list to be a part of it."

"Then Maybe I've got you a present just because I'm nice."

"There are many words to describe you," Q quipped. "And none of them are nice."

They remained standing side by side for some time, watching Moneypenny convince more and more people to dance. Soon she had even managed to drag Tanner out onto the floor. Q couldn't decide whether he had caved because of the amount of alcohol he had consumed or if it was because of her skills in persuasion. Either way it was impressive. What was not so impressive was when she bounded over to Q, grabbed his arm, and refused to let go until he was surrounded by other dancers with no hope of escape.

Instead of putting up a fight he decided to succumb to his fate. After he had caught onto the rhythm he discovered he was actually quite enjoying himself. With the steady flow of drinks handed helpfully to him by Moneypenny, Q soon found his mind was buzzing with nothing but music and laughter. And all he wanted to do was dance. Through the haze, he was sure he spotted blue eyes following him. But after downing another drink he was sure he was imagining it.

As the night wore on people began to depart. Some had work the next day and couldn't afford to get too drunk, others had families to get home to, but most were just tired and could no longer keep up with the fast paced music and loud shouts from the energetic young ones.

Out of breath and in need of a sit down, Q escaped from the throng of dancers and collapsed into a stall beside the bar.

"Who would have thought that our Quartermaster was such a good dancer?"

"You're still here?" Q slurred, blinking blearily at Bond.

"Yes," Bond replied. "You're drunk."

"Am not!" Q cried indignantly.

To demonstrate just how sober he was he got to his feet and proceeded to walk parallel to the bar in a perfectly straight line. He only made it two strides before he tripped over his own foot and went toppling down. A firm hand caught his arm just before he hit the floor.

"I think it's time to take you home."

"But we've only been here for about an hour."

"Q it's almost One O'clock in the morning."

"Oh."

He only put up some minor resistance as Bond steered him out of the building, bidding Moneypenny a swift goodbye as they left. She frowned when James said that he was taking Q home but made no comment against it, only wishing them a safe journey and insisting to Q that he drink lots of water when he got home.

From what he could remember the following morning, the taxi ride home took no time at all and he was soon tucked up in a warm bed accompanied by a large glass of water and lots of painkillers. The pillows were soft under his head and the soft bedclothes offered a safe haven from the violently spinning world around him. It didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep. Only when he was woken by weak sunlight penetrating the curtains did Q realise he wasn't in his own bed.

The room was pale, the walls milk white. A single mahogany shelf opposite the bed and two bedside tables of the same wood provided the only relief from the monotony of white. Q blinked away sleep, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. That was a big mistake. His head pounded so violently that he clutched at it. He pressed a hand to his forehead somehow believing that the pressure would alleviate the inner ache. Noticing the water on the bedside table, he chugged the whole glass down without rest.

"Do you want some more?"

James Bond was standing in the doorway, an expression of amusement adorning his too perfect features. And then everything made sense. Well not everything, but some things did. The layout of the room. The sparse furniture and simple design. It screamed absence and isolation. The room was lonely. Unloved.

"Please."

Bond left the room. His footfalls died away and then grew louder a few seconds later. Q accepted the offered second glass gratefully, only downing half of its contents before placing it carefully on the bedside table. They remained in silence for a minute or two longer. Until Q could no longer stand the quiet.

"I remember the party, well I remember parts of it. I remember dancing and I remember you insisting to Eve that you would make sure I got home safely. What I don't understand is how I managed to end up here. In your bed. Please explain, 007."

Bond took his time to settle himself more comfortably against the doorframe, then he began to speak. "I called a taxi to take you home but you refused to tell the driver where you lived. You kept telling him you worked for the Secret Service and couldn't possibly give him your address as a matter of government security. Luckily he thought you were far too drunk to take you seriously."

Q groaned and buried his head in his hands. "I promise this is the first and last time that will happen. I swear I will never drink again as long as I work for MI6."

Bond continued his story as though he hadn't been interrupted. A small smile played on his lips as he spoke. "I didn't trust you to get home safely so I told the driver to take us to my flat instead. I thought it would be cruel to make you sleep on the sofa so I gave up half of my bed to you. However, if I spent the night on the sofa my back would be killing me right now so I slept in the other half."

"We shared a bed!" Q cried, scandalised.

"Yes."

"Are you not bothered by this at all?"

"Not particularly. We are both adults and I can assure you I did not take advantage."

"I never believed you would," Q mumbled.

"Are you not used to waking up in strange men's beds?"

Q sensed the implications that came with the question. "Of strange men I've had my fair share, but trained killers not so much."

Bond huffed a laugh and silence fell between them again. Q wracked his brain to see what details he could recall of the night before, but as hard as he tried he couldn't remember anything from after they had left the party. His only recollections involved his first experiences upon waking up and his fascination with the snow white room and the unbelievably comfortable bed.

"Feel free to use the shower. There's a spare toothbrush in the cupboard under the sink. I'm going to make some breakfast."

Left alone in James Bond's bedroom, Q felt very out of place all of a sudden. Hurrying into the bathroom, which was luckily opposite the bedroom as Bond hadn't specified where it was, he hastily striped and stepped into the shower.

At first the water was far too hot and it took a while for him to figure out how to get to a temperature that suited him. Once he found it, the shower was perfect and he enjoyed a few happy minutes of tranquillity not thinking about his still pounding head, or his slipup in revealing to a random stranger that he worked for MI6. For a moment he even forgot that he had just shared a bed with James Bond. And that he was using his shower. While Bond made breakfast.

Dripping with water, Q wrapped a spare towel round his waist and opened up the cupboard Bond had indicated to find the toothbrush. While he brushed his teeth he stared around the room. It too was white, though black tiles featured amongst the white tiles at random intervals on the walls surrounding the large bathtub. The cupboards too were black. Everything was clean. Just like the bedroom, the bathroom too gave off the air of an unloved room that was there for convenience and necessity alone. This wasn't a home. It was just a place.

Redressed in his clothes from the night before, Q left the bathroom and followed the hallway into the open plan living room slash kitchen. The kitchen was tiled like a chessboard while the living room was fitted with expensive wooden floor.

"You're acting as though you're taking the walk of shame," Bond said, startling Q out of his thoughts.

"I was just..." He couldn't even say what he was doing because he actually had no idea. "Do you know where my phone is?"

"On the side there," Bond replied, gesturing to the edge of the kitchen worktop. Thanking him, Q unlocked his phone and began tapping away at the screen. "Can I get you anything to eat? You probably feel sick but eating something might help."

"Do you have anything gluten free?"

Bond searched through his cupboards for a second. Q watched him from across the kitchen noting how sparse his cupboards and fridge were of food. Clearly he didn't eat in much.

"Not that I can find. Are you on some strange diet?"

"I'm a Coeliac."

"Right," Bond nodded, feeling stupid because he hadn't guessed straight away. "I'm sorry."

Everything suddenly felt awkward. Q was exceptionally conscious of himself. Every slight movement felt like a wild swing of his joints. The tension was thick in the air that he almost struggled to draw breath.

"It's fine. Really. I should probably be going anyway. I have to work the nightshift as 004 is completing an important mission so we are going to need all hands on deck." He knew he was babbling but he couldn't stop. "Thank you for making sure I got back safely and didn't sell out all of MI6's secrets. I appreciate it."

With that he turned on his heels, collected his jacket that was hanging on a hook beside the door, and left the flat. Bond had opened his mouth to speak but Q was too fast in his departure. He shut the door firmly behind himself and leant back against it. He sighed heavily. Then he pushed himself away from the door and headed out of the building. Only when he was outside did he realise that he had no idea where he was.

The taxi driver that took him back to his own house was very helpful and it turned out that Bond and he didn't live that far away from each other. With relief, Q collapsed onto his sofa knowing that he wouldn't have to see Bond until after Christmas. He wasn't scheduled for any missions therefore it was very unlikely he would be faced with the man until the New Year. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so ready to avoid him but even Bond couldn't deny the tension between them just before Q left. The problem was he had no idea what it was. Nor what had caused it. Strange.

Sadie and Jasper mewled at Q, jumping up onto the cushions, circling and crossing over his lap until he finally gave way and fed them. Sadie was the younger of Q's two cats being only two years old compared to Jasper's five years. Jasper was black and white and could navigate any surface no matter how untidy without knocking over a single item. On the other hand, Sadie couldn't jump onto a table without tipping over a cup of tea or a glass of water. She was tabby with long ears and a stripy tail. They meowed loudly all the way to the kitchen and only settled after Q had filled up their food bowl which they had clearly emptied the night before.

Time passed all too quickly and soon enough Q was leaving for another long night at work, trying with all his might not to think about the night before. How he hoped no one had seen him and Bond leave together. He wasn't sure he'd be able to live it down.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and will tune in for the next one (though I don't know when it will be posted) Leave a review if you can and have a wonderful christmas and a happy new year! :)