"I saw him off at the airport this evening," Alison informed Q as soon as she walked into his apartment that evening. She had her blue coat hanging loose around her frame, a thick red scarf dangling around her neck as she peeled her gloves from her fingertips.

"I see," Q said, wondering what Alison would say if she knew what her father had asked of him. He had no idea, and he didn't know whether to ask. But then he remembered the argument they had the previous night and he knew that it was for the best to tell her.

"Anyway, I brought my small suitcase with me," she informed him, wheeling it behind her as she stood in his kitchen. "I didn't know how long I was going to be staying here for. Dad asked if I was able to stay here until he comes back."

"Of course," Q nodded. "You know that you can stay here for as long as you want to, Ali. In fact, you barely stay here enough for my liking. Not that I don't mind staying at your apartment, but I don't particularly enjoy spending my mornings in pyjamas making small talk over breakfast."

Alison laughed at hearing that, moving her suitcase to sit outside Q's bedroom before shrugging out of her coat and scarf. Q went to sit back down on the sofa, moving forwards to the edge and typing on his keyboards. He didn't particularly know what he should do. He was trying to make Bond disappear, but he knew that he had to do without anyone noticing. It was bad enough that Bond had decided to go off the radar.

"Well, you don't need to worry about that happening," Alison said. "I've booked a couple of days off from work this weekend. The café should cope without me and I need to focus on the teaching course for a few hours…I haven't really been concentrating ever since dad went off to Mexico."

"Understandable," Q promised her, turning his head over his shoulder to look to Alison as she poured herself a glass of water from the tap. "Anyway, I thought that we could go for brunch on Saturday morning. I have nothing to do at work this weekend."

"What a novelty," Alison chuckled, flopping down on the sofa next to Q and sipping on her water. "But brunch does sound lovely. Do you have anywhere in mind?"

Q stopped typing and closed the lid to his laptop, leaning back and lifting his hands above his head to stretch. He blinked a few times, his glasses falling slowly down his nose as he did so. "There's a nice place just minutes away from Kensington tube station. It specialises in pancakes and I know how much you love pancakes."

"Oh, you know me so well," Alison laughed, leaning her head back on the sofa, rolling her gaze to the side to look at him as he smiled back, awkwardly moving his arm towards her, allowing her room to nestle against his side.

"I suspect after all this time dating I do know you rather well," he whispered to her and she pecked him on the cheek.

There was still awkwardness about the couple. Alison suspected that was just how the two of them were. Q was not a natural romantic, nor did Alison want him to be. She had been with the smooth types before, and she had never been in love with them. Q was awkward, but he was kind and everything Alison wanted. She had never thought of it when she first met him.

"Anyway," Q said, knowing that he had to tell Alison about her father. "Your father came in today and asked me to…well…hide him, if you will. He's gone rogue."

Alison's nose wrinkled. "And will you not get into trouble for that?" she wondered from him, all seriousness in her voice. "If anyone finds out there may be trouble, surely."

"Possibly," Q sighed, "but Bond seemed desperate. The double-oh programme is in trouble. M informed me that it might be shut down before the end of the year. Apparently spies aren't needed when drones can do just a good a job."

Alison sat up then, scrutinising Q. "It could shut down? You mean…"

"I mean your dad might night be an agent for much longer," Q clarified. "Don't take my work, Ali, but that is what I heard. God only knows what your dad will do if that is the case. I can hardly see him sat in an office without shooting something."

Alison scoffed then. "Well, I will just wait until dad comes back. That's all I can think about."

"Of course," Q nodded.

…..

Bond awoke late that evening, sitting up and grabbing his phone. The woman next to him slept soundly, the covers pulled up to her chest. Her black hair cascaded down her back, dangling there loosely as her hand rested underneath the pillow. Bond would make an arrangement to send her somewhere safe. He was not heartless. The woman was in trouble. She knew too much and she would be sentenced to death for that. There was no mercy in this world.

Once he had finished sending that message through to Q, he found his daughter's number. Looking back to the sleeping widow besides him he slowly moved from the bed, the sheets pooling from his body. He slipped into his clothes silently before pressing his phone to his ear and stepping onto the balcony, looking at the grounds of the mansion he currently resided in.

"Dad."

Bond doubted he would ever not feel relieved at the sound of Alison's voice when he was gone. He leant against the stone pillared balcony, peering into the darkness.

"Hi Ali," he spoke back softly. "Is everything alright? Are you still with Q?"

There was a shuffle in the background and a distinct murmur as Alison moved herself from the sofa where she and Q had made themselves at home to watch television that evening.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she told him. "I'm at Q's apartment. We ordered takeaway for dinner and are just watching TV. I swear we're already like an old couple sometimes. We hardly do anything adventurous."

Bond didn't want to think of her doing anything too dangerous. It didn't fill him with too much joy to think of Alison out in London on her own. He didn't particularly enjoy Alison being anywhere alone. Bond was simply happy that Alison had finally decided on becoming a math teacher for a future career. It was nothing too dangerous.

"Well, I prefer you boring," James admitted. "Anyway, I just wanted to check that you were alright."

"I'm fine," she promised. "And you? Have you…well…found anything out?"

Bond nodded to himself, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I may have," he admitted to her. "There's a criminal organisation called Spectre. I'm going to see if I can find anything out about them this evening."

Alison almost choked. "A criminal organisation?" she demanded from him. "As in…just you…against a gang? Is that a good idea? Well, no, I don't think it is really. Dad, honestly can you not ask for backup?"

James had grown used to his daughter's worries. How could he not? Alison spent her lifetime worrying about him and Bond felt guilt over it. He caused his daughter so much stress and he knew that. But he was an agent. He didn't know what else he could be.

"I will be fine, Ali," he promised her. "Listen to me, nothing will happen. I'll give you a call as soon as I find something out. Just stay with Q and look after yourself."

Alison sighed and James could sense her annoyance. He had grown used to that. He let her take a couple of moments to compose herself before he dared to say anything to her. Nodding, he waited until Alison found her words.

"Okay," she said. "But call me, promise?"

"Promise," Bond said.

"Right, okay," Alison mumbled.

"And Ali?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you," Bond said.

He almost hoped that a smile formed on her face as he spoke those words. She was the only woman he would say them to. His love for Alison was incomparable to anything else. He only hoped that she really knew that.

"I love you too, dad," Alison whispered.

Bond hung up then, dropping his phone into the pocket of his trousers. He placed a hand into his pocket and his other hand held onto his chin as he took a deep breath and contemplated what he was about to do next. Turning around he almost startled at the sit of Lucia stood there. She had a robe on her body, her hair had been dragged into a messy bun and she was resting against the doorframe. A small and knowing smile graced her features.

"You have a daughter."

Bond furrowed his brow and moved back into the room, his hand moving to her shoulder as he passed her and continued to take hold of his jacket from the bottom of her bed. She closed the patio door and continued to watch Bond for any sign of emotion.

"Who else would you declare your love to like that?" Lucia wondered and Bond had no way of knowing how to react. "How old is she?"

"Twenty two," Bond answered and Lucia nodded thoughtfully.

"An adult then," she said and Bond looked at her in an almost dangerous manner, causing her to chuckle. "Of course, she is still your daughter. You will never see her as an adult, regardless of how grown up she is. What does she do?"

Bond had no idea if he should be divulging this information with Lucia. He kept his daughter out of everything. He never dragged her into his mess, yet here he was.

"She is training to be a teacher," Bond said. "She likes maths."

"I see," Lucia said and then sat back down on the bed. "You don't talk about her often, do you?"

"What gives it away?"

"I've never had children," Lucia declared. "I wanted them, but my husband never truly did. He used to ask why we would want little brats running around? I tried to convince him…of course…I never did. I spent months with friends, watching as they had their own children. They grew up…some are now ten and others are teenagers. And, I admit, some are rather unpleasant, but the parents speak of them with such fondness. They share everything they do…from their school reports to what they do in their spare time."

Lucia looked down to the ground. She felt a void somewhere inside of her. Her husband had gone. She had nothing left. He couldn't even leave her someone else to love more than she had done him.

"Parents speak of their child with such pride, yet you say nothing," Lucia concluded. "You keep your daughter secret, yet you think of her often enough. You'll never show your love for her to anyone. It's your only weakness."

Bond could only stand there. He couldn't disagree with her. She had read him like an open book. Was it that obvious how he felt for Alison? Apparently so. Remaining silent, he watched as Lucia moved towards him and rested her hands on his shoulders.

"We all have a weakness, James," she whispered. "It is nothing to be scared of."

"You don't know," James said, his mouth unusually dry. "She's been used against me before. I do everything to keep her hidden and safe."

"As you should," Lucia urged him. "Yet you should know that nothing is a secret from Spectre, James. They know everything…more than you would think possible."

Bond took a step back from her. "What are you trying to say?" he demanded.

She sighed and shook her head. "I'm trying to tell you that you would be a fool to think she is safe. Spectre…they will find her, James. If you go after them then they will find her and use her against you. Do you think they won't? Do you believe that?"

Bond thought a multitude of things. What had he done? That was the main question he asked himself. He didn't want to think of Alison being in trouble again. How could he think that? Keeping quiet, Bond stormed out of the bedroom, Lucia stood there and sighing to herself. She sunk down onto her bed once more and that empty void once again filled the room.

…

A/N: Thank you so much to the overwhelming response to the return of the story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I kind of wanted more Lucia in the film so I wrote her in a bit more in this chapter. Do let me know what you think!