The kid was going to break Q's heart, James was sure of it.

James knew that Q wished they could have a family of their own, hell, James wished for the same damn thing at times. But letting this little girl walk into their lives and walk all over Q's heart was only going to end in tears.

So when James woke in the middle of the night (in an empty bed no less, Q was working) to the sound of the doorbell ringing, he was not in a good mood. He was grumbling all the way to the door when he opened it.

He was sure it was two in the morning, not two in the afternoon; so there was no reason for a little girl in braided pigtails to be standing on his welcome mat.

She looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her, "Um, hello Mr. Bond…" She was gripping one of her braids tightly, trying to look anywhere but at James, "Is Mr. Q home?"

"Q's working." James replied, well, grunted. He was still half asleep, "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

So James wasn't a genius when it came to kids. He knew exactly how to handle women…just not the tiny ones.

"I…I had a nightmare." She admitted, looking at her feet.

James blinked, watching her. Then his mind caught up with the situation, "Where the hell are your parents?"

Alright, so maybe not all the way caught up. And perhaps he wasn't at his most eloquent, but this was the child who was going to break his husband's heart.

"They got called in to work." Olivia nodded, looking up at him

James opened his mouth to demand what kind of job her parents had to leave their child in the middle of the night, then promptly shut his mouth. He certainly had no right to judge based on his own employment.

Then he saw the look in Olivia's eyes. Big green eyes framed by dark lashes, but were red and puffy, not to mention shining from a thin sheen of unshed tears.

God dammnit… James let out a long sigh, "Why don't you come in for a bit? At least until you've calmed down enough to go back to sleep?"

It was all the invitation Olivia needed to bolt into apartment, making a beeline for Q's spot on the couch, curling up with one of the throw pillows.

"Um, do you want anything to drink?" James rubbed sleep from his eyes as he shut the door to the apartment. He could really go for a strong drink in that moment, but he wasn't about to offer cognac to a child. He wasn't that inept, "Do you drink tea?"

The child looked at him from the couch, "Do you have any cocoa?"

Cocoa…Why couldn't she have just asked for a cup of Earl Grey? He knew they had that, Q basically had the stuff on a drip. But where the hell was he supposed to get cocoa? "Let me check…" He grumbled, heading into the kitchen.

Q's tablet was on the counter, so James made a quick search on Google for cocoa. There were several recipes listed. Seems simple enough, he mused, grabbing cocoa powder, sugar, and milk from the kitchen, it wasn't a hard recipe at all.

Not even ten minutes later, he had two mugs of cocoa ready for consumption (because hey, if he had to make it, he sure as hell was going to try some).

"Here you go, kid." James handed a mug to Olivia as he sat on the other side of the couch, "Careful, it's hot."

"My name is Olivia, Mr. Bond." She nodded, taking a sip of her cocoa, "Mmm, this is way better than anything Mommy makes."

James made a noncommittal noise in his throat, drinking his cocoa. Reluctantly, he had to agree that the stuff wasn't half bad, even if there was no cognac.

They sat in silence while they drank their cocoa. James knew from experience that talking about nightmares didn't always make it better, and he sure as hell wasn't going to pry into a child's mind.

"Thanks."

Turning to look at Olivia, James blinked, "For what?"

"For not making me talk about the monsters." Olivia gripped her mug tightly, "Mommy always asks me about it, and then I have to remember them all over again."

James was not qualified to pass judgment on a woman he had never met, or her parenting skills, "Sometimes people want to help, even when they don't know how." He mumbled, "Sometimes they can make it worse."

It was then he realized the child was staring at him now. The look in her eyes was unfamiliar, James didn't know what it was or how to deal with it. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, "Why don't I put on a movie? Would that help you calm down?"

At Olivia's nod, James got up and looked at his and Q's collection of movies. And seeing the complete and utter lack of children friendly movies (the last thing she would need to watch was Kill Bill), James knew he would have to improvise. What did kids like? James remembered he liked his fairytales as a child. Quickly he looked over the collection for anything resembling that…

"Hey Ki—er, Olivia?" James cleared his throat, "You know the story of Cinderella, right?"

"Of course I do." Her small voice answered him, "Why wouldn't I?"

James rolled his eyes, glad his back was to her, "Well I have Cinderella here, but there all no words, it's all told through dance."

"I like dance…" She admitted, "Sounds like fun!"

James nodded, putting the DVD in and walking to the couch. How the hell did he get himself into these situations: sitting with a child in the middle of the night, watching the Russian Ballet's rendition of Cinderella? This wasn't his thing…

If said child had climbed into his lap before the intermission, he didn't say anything.

Q was tired from his shift at MI6, he was looking forward to curling up in bed (hopefully in his husband's arms).

So when he came into the apartment, and saw the back of James's head, leaned back over their couch in an awkward position, he was alarmed. Immediately, his mind filled with scenarios of assassins that had caught James off guard and left his body for him to find, and he desperately wished he had a firearm with him.

Then he heard the deep rumble of James's snoring, and his heart fell into his usual pattern. So James had fallen asleep on the couch…not a usual habit for him. And with the television on, no less. Curiosity piqued, Q approached his husband. As he rounded the end of the couch, he could see the two empty mugs on the coffee table.

More importantly, he could see Olivia curled up in James's lap, with the 00 agent's arms wrapped tightly around her.

Q smiled softly, sitting beside them on the couch as he watched them both.

The movement triggered James to wake, opening his eyes before he moved a muscle. Seeing Q beside him, he relaxed. Their eyes met for a moment before they both looked at Olivia. She looked so small and fragile in James's arms. But then again, she probably wassmall and fragile in James's arms.

Q knew that James would never admit it out loud, but he knew the look James got when someone had managed to worm their way into his heart.

After all, it wasn't every day 007 fell in love: man, woman, or child.