Q woke to sunlight streaming through the window and was amused and horrified to find himself wrapped around a sleeping secret agent like a limpet. James' hand was wrapped around his hip possessively and Q couldn't resist pressing a kiss the shoulder nearest him. While Q wanted to stay there forever in the peaceful cocoon they had carved out for themselves, there was work to be done so grudgingly he pulled himself from the bed, careful to not wake Bond. He was unsure how long it had been since the agent had slept properly and he was loathe to disturb him. Smiling at him one last time, Q pulled on his trousers and shirt and slipped from the room as quietly as possible.

Carefully he made his way downstairs, unsure if John was still asleep in the living room. Noise from the kitchen drew him in that direction and he peered into the room to see John making tea while Sherlock fiddled with an experiment on the table. "Good morning, Crispin," Sherlock said, amusement lacing his voice. "I trust you slept well."

"Sherlock, leave him alone. Neither of them had probably slept in weeks." John glanced over his shoulder, "Tea, Cris?"

Q nodded to John, pointedly ignoring his brother, "I would love some Earl Grey if you have any."

"I was not referring to actual sleep, John. I was talking about the sexual encounter they shared before that, which appears to have been mutually satisfying if that love bite on Crispin's neck is any indication." Q could feel the blush on his cheeks and raised a hand up to feel where he believed the love bite to be.

John set Q's tea down in front of him while glaring at his flatmate, "Sherlock, we talked about this. Timing."

Cursing his luck, Q watched James come into the kitchen at that moment wearing only his trousers, probably having heard the whole conversation that had just taken place. Nerves took him suddenly, pooling in his now unsettled stomach. What if James changed his mind? What if he didn't? How were they supposed to act? What did Bond expect from him? These questions and more raced through his head to the point that he near jumped when James placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Coffee if you have it," James was saying and Q tipped his head back to look at the man standing behind him. "Morning, Q," Bond smiled.

Q's smile of relief and happiness was bright enough to light the room and he raised a hand to grasp James' on his shoulder, "Good morning, James."

"Oh, please. As if I don't have enough of that from John and his girlfriends. And it is perhaps more sickening considering it involves my brother." Sherlock glared from over his microscope. "Will you two be staying for the rest of the day?"

James squeezed Q's shoulder before letting go to accept his coffee from John. "No, I'm going to get Q to MI6 safely and then we have some work to do. We have reason to believe his flat may be compromised as well as this one, so we don't want to stay and put anyone else in danger. Once we're dressed, we will be out of your hair."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" John asked as Sherlock appeared completely uninterested in the conversation.

James shook his head, but Q spoke up, "Actually could you pick up some clothes for us? If I can't go back to my flat, I would at least like something clean to wear. Sherlock, would one of the homeless network be able to drop them at a specific location?" On a note, Q scribbled down the necessary sizes as well as an address. "This is an MI6 secure location for the movement of property. It is far enough removed from headquarters that no one should suspect either Bond's or my involvement. "

John nodded and took the note, "We can take care of that. I'll run out and get some after you leave. They should be there in a few hours. For just Cris, or Bond too?"

Q glanced at Bond who only shrugged. "Better get it for both of us. If they know where I live, they have his address as well. Plus then we can go right to headquarters and get to work."

"And how are you going to get there?" Sherlock asked, looking up once more from his microscope. "If you are a target, cabs and the tube are not going to be smart choices. Walking is impractical and I doubt Bond's car is accessible at the moment."

Bond and Q shared a look, neither having thought that far ahead. "We could call MI6? Or we could call Mycroft," Q suggested.

"Your brother would probably be the safer option. We don't want Torbett to know that we have been in contact with MI6 for as long as possible."

Sherlock stood abruptly, "If you are calling Mycroft, I do not want to be here when he arrives. Too much family time already. John, if you need me, I will be at the morgue. " With that he swanned out of the room.

"Don't mind him," John apologized. "He's a prat. If you guys don't need anything else, I may slip out now and get your clothes."

Q smiled at him, "Thank you, John. I apologize for intruding on your lives. I just didn't have anywhere else to go."

John patted Q on the back, "Don't mention it. If you ever need anything, feel free to call or text. I'll leave you my number."

James thanked John as well and they both watched as John ran upstairs to change clothes. When they heard the door downstairs close behind him on his way out, Q motioned for James to go shower while he cleaned up their cups. By the time Q was done in the kitchen and had texted Mycroft asking for a ride, who grudgingly agreed, James was just coming out of the bathroom.

"Mycroft will be here in 10 minutes. I'm going to take a quick shower and be right out," Q explained, attempting to slip past Bond and into the loo. Bond's arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

"When this is all done, we are going to do this properly. I meant what I said last night. I have wanted you for so long and I'm not going to lose you." In response, Q pressed his lips to James', conveying all his emotion through that one kiss.

Bond broke the kiss lightly, with several small pecks before pulling apart completely. "Go shower," he said, patting Q on the arse. "Your brother will be here soon."

Q nodded, a grin on his face, as he closed the door behind him. He showered quickly before putting on his clothes from the night before and they were downstairs, just outside the door when the black car pulled up in front of them.

"Brace yourself, James," Q told him, reaching over to squeeze his hand lightly before letting go. "If you think Sherlock is bad, just wait until you meet Mycroft."