Disclaimer: I do not own the Bond movies or books.
Warnings: Bond isn't wearing a shirt. Also, M swears when she is cornered.
Bond looked around his room in the early morning sun. It opened up onto what he assumed was the back of the house, there was also a well-equipped gym via his own bathroom, through another door. The outside of the house was sundrenched, but he felt like sleeping for quite a while before heading out.
Now, having had time to think, he remembered exactly how his mission had gone. He had gotten kidnapped, and not by Q. It seemed the computer genius had saved him, and only tied him up to make sure not to be attacked until James could be trusted to figure that out himself. The fact that he had easily let him go after an hour or so when he showed no violent tendencies supported this theory.
Going back in he first took a quick shower, dressed in a pair of slacks which lay on the couch in his room, and then joined his host in the media room, watching with amusement how he'd gotten into M's private system, and how she was started by the young, darkhaired man's face greeting her on her computer screen. "Who the hell are you?"
Q smiled. "I am Q. I believe I have something of yours... I have also sent you a gift; you will find it on your company servers." There was a glitter in his eyes at managing to play the technology which Bond internally admitted was pulling him insomewhat. It made him intrigued.
M's eyes narrowed at that, assuming this was some sort of threat, and James hurried to step up into view. "It's alright, M. He got me out from our target's associate's cellar, and extracted the information we needed. I will remain here for a few weeks. Gather more information."
He saw M's eyes narrow even further, but she didn't comment in front of a highly unknown variable. With an unknown man in the room, she merely stated in a clipped tone, "then I expect your report in a few weeks, Bond. We will be in touch when we need you."
Q cut off the feed after that, yawning. "I don't know about you, but I am going to bed," he noted to James, already moving towards the door. "It's been quite a night. Feel free to go down to the beach if you want to. There's surfboards in the beach cottage if you're interested in that kind of thing."
"Thank you" James followed him to the door. "But I haven't really slept in 72 hours. I am done."
"Then goodnight, James." With a kind, almost shy smile, Q left alone to his bedroom, his longish dark hair framing his face and making him look strangely vulnerable. Bond felt a slight pull of protectiveness, prompted by instinct, perhaps. That was interesting, too.