For weeks they poked and prodded him. Testing him physically and mentally. The physical tests was hard. James was showing his age, he had to admit. It didn't help that recovery from his gunshot wounds and subsequent fall had taken longer than he'd like to admit. It had left him weak. The mental tests though, were unbearable. In fact he walked out of most of them before they were finished, but to be truthful this was nothing new for James. He laughed as he thought of what the psych department could possibly have to say in his file about his scores.
So when he found himself sitting in the National Gallery he had to wonder how he had managed to pass. He had a sneaking suspicion that M might have had something to do with it. She obviously wanted him back in the field, whether he was ready or not.
He still hadn't heard anything about Charles' current location. His flat had been sold, so Charles obviously would not be there. His name did not appear on the list of the dead, so he survived the attack. James hadn't had the opportunity to ask after him with all the tests they had him running through, but he planned to track him down to apologize for what had happened.
James was so deep in thought that when the very man he was thinking on sat down right beside him he didn't recognize him at first. It was not until James heard him call him 007, and then James' stomach did a little flip of recognition.
Charles didn't seem to be angry with him,he must be a great actor or James hadn't meant as much to him as James had believed. No, that couldn't be it. Charles had been wholly devoted to James, he had to believe that. Charles knew what James' life had been like before. He had to understand James' decision to walk away when given the chance.
As Charles walked away he had a smile on his face. James didn't feel any better though. James took a moment to steel himself and went after Charles. The gun case tucked under his arm, he reached the younger man near the front entrance. James took Charles gently by the arm and pulled him aside, immediately whispering in his ear, "I'm sorry, if I could have gotten in touch I would have. You are the reason I came back, you know that don't you?."
Charles' bland expression changed to one of slight confusion and then thoughtfulness before settling in a slightly sour smile. "Why haven't you been by the flat then?" His voice seemed to hold a bit of an edge but the anger didn't sound completely genuine to James.
"MI6 told me they sold the flat, I assumed you had relocated." James looked at Charles quizzically.
"Who do you think they sold it?" Charles gave him a lopsided grin. "All of your things are right where you left them, including me."
James' face must have shown his confusion and shock because Charles continued. "I was happy with the flat and I hate moving. Besides, I had a feeling you would be back when your body was not recovered. You are a hard man to kill Mr. Bond."
After the destruction of Skyfall James took some time off. He was emotionally spent and part of him longed to return to the other side of the world and hide. Charles didn't seem to understand at first. When James came back to their flat from Scotland Charles seemed to expect things to go right back to the way they had been before James died. When James explained he wasn't ready for that yet Charles seemed miffed and almost ignored James for a week. James was grateful for the personal space and felt that Charles was just being thoughtful.
James spent the quiet hours wandering around the flat, refamiliarizing himself with this world of his. Charles had been truthful, all of James' things were right where he had left them. Although it seemed as if his lotions and colognes were at a lower level then he remembered them being when he had left before. Perhaps Charles had used some to remind himself of James while mourning his lovers death. The thought brought a smile to James' face.
When James did start feeling more like himself he and Charles went back to the physically demanding relationship they had had previously outside of the office. James had forgotten just how good it had been with Charles. As young as he was, his talents were endless. Having someone else take charge in the bedroom was quite the turn on for James as well.
The professional side of the relationship was by all outward appearances, completely platonic. It was common knowledge around MI6 though that while Q seemed quite timid usually, he was the only one who could match 007 step for step during an assignment. Even though they barely spoke to each other in the office, James had a bad habit of becoming even more difficult than normal if anyone but Q were on the comms with him. Q was also known to joke often about adding a mild electric shock feature to 007's next tracking implant so he could remotely discipline the agent if he should ever feel the need.
There was even one instance where James had come to Q branch for a weapons briefing in a rather irritated mood after having been scolded like a child by Mallory, the new M. It had been during a debriefing for a mission where James had blown his cover. It had been necessary at the time to get the mission completed, M didn't see it that way though. Everything had worked out in the end, if a like more explosive than originally intended.
James had never been receptive of criticism and that day was no exception. So when the imposing blonde man had entered the lab all the unnecessary tech immediately found somewhere else to be. The anger was practically visible, rolling off him in waves of silent rage. Those who couldn't leave talked about what happened next for weeks.
As Q was pulling up the schematics of the latest gadget on screen, to explain the functions to the fuming agent beside him, his eyes appeared to never leave his when James reached to pick up some small component off the work table everyone was shocked at how easily Q was able to lift his saundering iron, still hot from his earlier work, and tap James' hand with the hot end with out even a pause in his explaination. The rest of the room went still, no one moved, staring at the pair, waiting. James had hissed in pain and surprise at the sudden burn to his hand and proceeded to glare at Q for the rest of meeting, but he never said a word.
At home that night was another story though. James was in complete control, punishing the younger man with his rough handling. Charles seemed to enjoy it, even with the bruises keeping him from sitting down for a couple days.
