Q didn't entirely know what they were going to do as he laid in bed that night. He had gone downstairs and dished up their dinner, warming it in the microwave. He insisted Alison stay in bed and he had come upstairs to find her pulling on her blue robe, tightening the sash around her midriff. He had grabbed his own blue robe and done the same, handing her the bowls of pasta. They had sat cross legged on the bed and ate their dinner before he had placed the bowls on top of their chest of drawers and gone back to bed again.

He was hardly tired as Alison laid beside him on her side, her breathing steady. He stayed on his back, hands behind his head after pulling his boxer shorts back on. Alison had reached for one of his long sleeved shirts and shrugged into it, rolling the sleeves up and Q had to stop himself from taking her again when he saw her.

"You're thinking," Alison commented, her voice on the verge of sleep as she remained on her side.

"I guess I am," Q admitted to her and she rolled over to face him, stuffing a hand underneath her pillow. She stifled a yawn as she looked to him. He let his head roll to the side, squinting to see her due to the fact he had taken his glasses off after she had nearly knocked them off of his face.

"What is it?" she wondered, a hand going to his bare chest and feeling the rise and fall of it.

"I just…I wondered when the right time would be to try again," Q said to Alison. "I mean, is there a right time to try again? I don't know…"

"Neither do I," Alison said to Q and he saw her chewing down on her bottom lip and he knew she had something she wanted to say to him. It was her tell tale sign. He reached for her hand and picked it up in his grip, kissing the back of it tenderly and nodding to her.

"Talk to me," he urged from her.

"I'm not ready," she blurted out to him and he nodded his head once, keeping hold of her hand inside of his and resting it back against his chest. She shifted closer to him, nestling tightly against his side and throwing a leg over one of his. Her chin perched by his shoulder and she spoke in a soft voice. "I don't want to try again just yet. I…I think that I still need more time and I don't know how long…but I just know that the idea of trying again right now scares me."

"I understand," Q promised her. "And I have no intention of rushing you into anything, Alison. I think we both need time still and we have time. You know that as much as I do. I just don't want you to be scared of this happening again."

"But what if it does?" Alison asked from him.

"And what if it doesn't?" he responded and she knew she had no other answer to that for him. He squeezed her hand firmly in his grip and moved so that he was able to kiss her forehead. "The doctors have all said that there is no reason why you can't carry to a full term."

"I know," Alison said to him. "I just…it worries me, Q, and right now I need time to come to terms with things and realise that everything will be fine."

"I understand," he assured her. "I just don't want you to be consumed by fear. Many women who miscarry then go on to have healthy children. There is no reason why you would be any different…despite the fact that you are unlike any other woman I have ever met in my life."

"Hmm," Alison hummed, kissing his shoulder. "Is that a good thing or not?"

"Oh, definitely not," Q said, trying to get her to smile and succeeding. Her lips arched upwards and she moved their entwined hands to hit against his chest softly. He laughed at the movement and then moved quickly so that he had pinned her underneath him, her arms dangling around his neck.

Taking hold of her waist as he fell in between her legs, he pressed his forehead to hers and looked her in the eye. "I'm always going to be here, Alison…don't ever doubt that."

"I don't," Alison promised him, a soft smile on her face.

"And don't hide things from me."

"I won't," she said in another promise. "I love you."

"Then I suppose I love you too."

"Only suppose."

"I might have married you, but there is always room for doubt," he teased her, moving his hands to the hem of his shirt that she was wearing as he pushed it up and over her stomach and she tilted her head to the side.

"I wonder how I can squash that doubt," she responded, tone equally teasing.

"I can think of a few ways," Q said.

"I bet you can," she replied and went to kiss him once more, making her own intentions very clear as she helped him pull his shirt off of her, any thought of tiredness leaving her mind.

…

Alison stood in the arrivals lounge of Heathrow the following Christmas, holding up the cardboard sign she had spent two minutes making the night before. She had ripped the lid off of some box that Q had been about to recycle. It had been for one of his new monitors that he had bought. He had almost set up his own work station in their home, Alison complaining that it looked unsightly in between the living area and the dining table, but Q saying that it meant the office upstairs remained her own.

She had grabbed a felt tip pen and scribbled his name onto the board and folded it in half, pushing it into her bag. She had kissed Q before she had left for the tube station, asking him to make sure that the guest room was tidy before she got back. He agreed and watched her go out the door, knowing how excited she was to go to the airport.

Holding tightly onto the cardboard, she waited with patience. His flight had landed almost forty minutes ago so he should be coming through soon. She was stood amongst a row of other family members and taxi drivers who were holding signs. She kept on looking until finally she saw him move through the electric doors, a winter coat on his body. He had jeans on his legs with brown boots, his hair neatly trimmed and his face clean-shaven.

He looked around for any sign of his daughter, almost startling when he saw her holding a sign. His lips turned upwards as he moved towards her, wheeling his suitcase alongside him.

"I see you've gone to a lot of effort," he said, tone sarcastic as he motioned down to the sign with his name on it.

"It was either this or a six foot banner, but Q wouldn't hold the other end of it."

"Remind me again why you married such a bore?"

"Even sometimes I wonder why," Alison said, equally teasing her father as she folded the cardboard back up and stuffed it into her bag.

"I take it he's still around then?"

"Oh, you love him really," Alison replied.

"Not as much as I love you. Now come here."

James moved his arms towards her and she wrapped hers around his neck, embracing him tightly as he moved a hand to hold the back of her head. He pulled back and pecked her on the cheek, looking over her and taking in her appearance.

"You're looking good, Alison," James said.

"Why thank you," she responded. "And you're looking very tanned. That warm weather seems to be agreeing with you."

"Can't say it's doing me any harm," Bond said nonchalantly. "So, shall we get going? How far is it to this new place of yours?"

"So we get the Piccadilly line-"

"-You think I'm getting the tube?" James interrupted her. "Alison, I'll pay for a taxi. I've just spent the past several hours stuck on a flight in first class where I had my own space. I'm not about to get on a tin can crammed with hundreds of people."

"You're such a snob."

"Just used to travelling in style."

"Fine, but you are paying because I can hardly afford taxi fares in London," Alison said to him and he began walking alongside her. He wheeled his case next to her and she took hold of one of the bags he had been carrying, holding it in both hands in front of her.

"So, how are things?" James asked from his daughter.

She gave him the usual spiel that he had been expecting from her. She told him all about work and all about how she had done everything in preparation for Christmas. Q's parents were spending the holidays with good friends and so it was going to be just James, Alison and Q. She kept on talking about how Q had gotten a turkey that was far too big for three people and how she worried she had bought too much food considering their fridge was almost too full to shut. She told him everything that was happening, but not how she really was.

As they pulled up to the house, Bond knew that he was going to have to have that conversation with her at some stage. She pulled her keys out of her bag as James settled the fare and got his suitcase from the trunk. Alison carried his bag and unlocked the front door, moving into the house and dropping his bag just by the staircase.

"I see you've picked him up then," Q said and Alison rolled her eyes as her father entered the house.

"Good to see you too, Q," James said, a cheeky tone to his voice and Alison closed the door behind him.

"Are you two going to be snarky to each other for all of Christmas?"

"I would imagine so."

"Why break the habit of a lifetime?"

Q and Bond spoke at the same time and Alison once again rolled her eyes and headed into the kitchen. "I'm feeling pretty thankful I bought too much alcohol," she said and Bond picked up on that as she opened a cupboard door and pulled out three wine glasses. Clearly, she was drinking which meant that there was no sign of a pregnancy anytime soon.

"Wine?" Alison asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of chilled white wine.

"Please," James said.

"I will have to pass," Q said to his wife. "I just need to pop out for a little while."

"On Christmas Eve?" Alison checked and Q reached for his coat that was hung up behind James. Moving to the side, Bond watched the quartermaster shrug into his coat and begin to button it up. Alison looked to him with an arched brow and a knowing smile on her face. "Don't tell me you haven't bought me anything."

"Would I wait until last minute?"

"Hmm," Alison hummed. "Well, you do like to plan everything meticulously so whatever it is you are going out for, you're not panic buying."

"You know me so well," Q drawled.

"After two years of marriage I would like to think so," Alison responded.

Q chuckled and picked his wallet and keys up from the sideboard, stuffing them into his pockets and ensuring that his phone was in his jean pocket too. "I should be back soon," he said. "Try not to miss me too much while I'm gone."

"I make no promises," James said, shooting Q a smirk which he returned with an exasperated sigh and glare as Alison chuckled, moving towards her father and handing him his glass of wine as he moved out of his winter coat.

She pecked Q on the cheek and he once again assured her that he wouldn't be long before slipping out. Alison placed her own glass of wine down and hung her coat up. "So, do you want the grand tour now or later?" Alison asked her father, picking her glass back up and taking a sip.

"How about later?" Bond suggested to her.

"Sure," Alison shrugged and headed to the sofa in the living area. The entire ground floor was open planned, but Alison had done her best to section bits off so that it didn't all blend together. Sitting down, she curled one leg underneath herself after kicking her shoes off. "I mean, it's not much of a grand tour. There's literally a bathroom, two bedrooms and an office upstairs."

"It's a nice place, Ali," he said to her and she smiled softly over to him as he took his glass of wine and settled down next to her. Placing the glass on the oak coffee table in front of him, he crossed his legs and let one arm settle over the back of the sofa. "And you're doing alright, aren't you? With the mortgage and everything?"

"Oh, we're fine," Alison promised her father.

"Well, what with you discussing the taxi prices and not being able to afford them, I wanted to make sure."

"Oh, dad," Alison said to him, a sad smile on her face as she placed her own glass down next to his. She moved a hand to his arm and squeezed it softly. "I was just joking…well…partly joking. We're doing well. Q is better paid than I am, I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not doing too badly. You know, there is talk of making me head of the math department."

"Really?"

"I've been there the longest now," Alison shrugged.

"And is that something you'd want?"

"I think so," Alison nodded. "It means a bit more admin work, but I'd be able to cope. I'm used to working long hours and I like to think I'm organised enough."

"So…a promotion," James commented with a nod. "I take it that means you're not thinking about trying again anytime soon?"

Alison went quiet. She knew that this conversation would be coming soon enough. Reaching for her wine glass, she downed the liquid with two big gulps and James watched her as she placed the glass back down.

"I don't know," Alison admitted to her father.

"Because you know that we can discuss it," James said to her. "You never really opened up about the miscarriage, at least not to me, and I never really knew what to say to you because I didn't want to upset you."

"You wouldn't upset me," Alison promised him. "And I guess it's just something I opened up about with Q. We both grieved together in the end and found a way to be able to talk about what happened. It was hard…I mean…there are times when we both just get upset randomly."

"I can understand that," James promised her.

"And Q has been a rock," Alison said to her father. "He's been more than a rock, actually."

"I don't doubt it. As much as I enjoy winding him up and teasing him, I know that he's always there for you and he loves you."

Alison looked to the photo frame on the sideboard underneath the bay window of the two of them on their wedding day and smiled, remembering how she didn't think she could be any happier than that night when they had returned home as husband and wife. She adored him more than anything. She always would.

"And you haven't thought about having a child ever since?" James asked her and Alison shrugged.

"We have," she said to her father. "But we're just waiting a bit longer. I don't know if I'm ready just yet."

"And Q?"

"He's told me that we have no rush," Alison said. "I mean, he does want to try again, but he said that we can take our time."

"And there's nothing bothering you?" James asked, knowing when his daughter was apprehensive or hiding something from him. But she shook her head at him, promising him that everything was fine. He didn't know if she was telling him the truth, but he didn't push it. Alison would tell him when she was old enough. She would tell him without him pushing her.

…

"I need to tell you something."

It was the day after Boxing Day and Alison was laid on the sofa, her legs draped over Q's lap. She had a tub of chocolates in her own lap and the two of them had been dipping into the box and picking them out as they watched a film that was playing on TV. She was dressed in a long skirt and orange jumper, tights on her legs. Q had opted for his dark trousers and a striped, black and brown jumper.

"What is it?" Alison wondered from Q.

James had gone out for the day, opting to go and explore London. They had spent the Christmas period together, only going out for long walks whenever they needed fresh air. Alison had enjoyed the festive period, cooking Christmas dinner and organising presents.

"It's about Madeleine," Q said and Alison diverted her attention away from the television. Looking to her husband, he placed his arm over her lap and left it there.

"What about Madeleine?" she wondered from him.

"I didn't want to say anything before Christmas because I knew your dad would be here and he listens in quite intently…but on that day I went to work…the day before he arrived…I found out that Madeleine was in MI6's employment."

"What?" Alison questioned, brows furrowing at hearing him. Shaking her head back and forth, she moved the tub of chocolates away, placing them onto the coffee table and sinking back against the cushions of the sofa even further. "What do you mean she's working for MI6?"

"This is where I need you to promise me that you won't freak out," Q urged from her. "And I suspect she has kept it from you for confidentiality reasons and also because she doesn't want to upset you."

"I don't know if I can promise you that," Alison replied.

"Just try," Q said to her. "She's working as a therapist…talking to Blofeld."

"Blofeld?!" Alison snapped loudly. "What the hell is she doing talking with him? Has she forgotten that he tried to kill us both?"

"I doubt that. In fact, I think that might be one of the reasons why she is doing this. He will only talk to her and M is convinced that he knows more than he lets on. He hopes to be able to get information out of him and Madeleine is the only person who can do it."

"Christ," Alison complained, shaking her head. "And Madeleine? How is this affecting her?"

"I don't know," Q said with a shrug. "But I imagine she is fine otherwise she wouldn't have agreed to do it."

"Should I talk to her about it?"

"Absolutely not," Q said hastily and shook his head firmly. "I shouldn't have even told you she is doing it, Alison. If M found out then he could have my job, but I had to tell you because I wouldn't…I don't know if I could have kept this a secret from you. We agreed not to keep secrets, didn't we?"

"We did," Alison said. "But that's exactly what I've been doing, Q…because I haven't even told my dad that Madeleine is back working in London and that I've been meeting with her. I don't know how to tell him without an argument breaking out. You know how he feels about her and I've tried to bring her up in conversation, but he always shoots me down straight away."

"He's going to find out eventually," Q said, the film on the television completely forgotten as Q pushed his glasses further onto his nose.

"I know."

"So would it not be better to tell him now?"

"Absolutely not," Alison said. "He's here for another two days and I don't want to spend them arguing with him. I'll tell him before he goes."

"And you will tell him?"

"At some stage."

"Alison," Q drawled her name in a warning tone. He knew that she didn't want to upset her father. He knew full well that she never wanted to fall out with him, but she was keeping this from him. She was hiding the fact that she still spoke with his father's ex-girlfriend who he still thought betrayed him.

"It's Christmas, Q," Alison said. "I don't want anything to ruin it. I just want a peaceful holiday for once, is that too much to ask?"

Q's lips pursed and he watched her as she turned to look back to the TV. He knew she wasn't paying any attention to the film and so he pressed his lips against her forehead, kissing her softly and then whispering into her ear.

"He's your father," Q said to her in a whisper. "You might argue and disagree…but he will always love you."

Alison nodded once and sunk further into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against him. Closing her eyes, she felt Q kiss her once more on the side of her head and they lapsed into silence together once more.

…

Alison had come down with the flu when the half term hit. Her cold worsened over the week and soon enough she had found herself stuck in bed, too exhausted to do anything. Q's parents had come to visit for the weekend and Alison had felt guilty that she had been too ill to go out with them for dinner.

They were staying in the guest room that also worked as Alison's study. She was in bed on the Saturday morning, Q insisting that she get more sleep. She had been more than happy to agree with him on that before she woke up and contemplate going downstairs. Slipping into her large dressing gown over her long pyjamas, she tied her hair into a ponytail and padded across the wooden floor in her fluffy socks. Coming to the staircase, she could hear Q's mother's voice drift up the steps as she began her descent.

"I just know how much you wanted to have a child, Brenton." Mary's voice was loud as Alison paused on a step. She could hear rustling coming from in the kitchen. She never had gotten used to hearing his parent's call Q by his actual name. She still called him Q, despite having married him. But he didn't mind that. He preferred it in a way.

"And we still have time, mum," Q replied. "Can you pass me the pepper?"

There was more rustling.

"I know you still have time, but I just wonder if Alison…has she changed her mind?"

"No," Q replied. "Alison hasn't changed her mind. She…we…we just want a bit more time before we decide to try again."

"It has been over a year, darling," Mary said and Alison remained hidden on the staircase. "And I know that grief does not have a timeframe. I do not expect you to forget about what happened…having a miscarriage is horrible and I can only imagine what you have both been through, but are you certain that it is just time you want? There is nothing else?"

"What else could there possibly be?" Q questioned from his mother.

"I don't know," Mary said. "It's just that you've said to us that you're ready to try again-"

"-Just because I'm ready doesn't mean Alison is," Q interrupted his mother, his voice turning terse as Alison sat down on the step, knowing that it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help herself. "It has to be a decision that we both take together and if she is not ready yet then she is not ready yet."

"I only wonder when she will be ready, sweetheart," Mary said. "That's all I am wondering. We like Alison. We think she's a sweet girl, but you know as well as we do that she…she can be quite the handful."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Q demanded, voice now rising slightly. "I thought that you liked her?"

"You know we do. We adore her," Mary defended herself. "But she has gone through a lot in her life. She lost her mother…and we…we've seen the scars on her legs, darling. We've heard her having nightmares when she's stayed at our house with you."

"She…Alison has been through a lot."

"And we don't like to pry," Mary said. "But we just worry about her. We worry about you both."

"We're fine," Q said. "Trust me, Alison is fine. She would tell me if she wasn't and we can work through anything. Believe me, we have done."

"I don't doubt it," Mary said. "There are just times when I wish I knew more about her…knew who she really was…it's like she keeps things bottled up and hidden. It's funny, when you were at university we used to think you'd bring home a nice girl…someone with a quiet life."

"Mum, you are almost talking as though you wish I had never married Alison."

"No, I am not saying that," Mary said firmly. "You can be with whoever you want to be with and it is clear that you love Alison. Your father and I can see that and we're happy for you. I guess it's just every parents wish for their children to be with someone uncomplicated…who makes their child happy."

"She makes me more than happy," Q said.

"And you're sure about that?" Mary pushed him. "Because if she's apprehensive about having a child-"

"-We're not discussing this," Q interrupted his mother, his voice firm. "I am with Alison, mum. She is my wife. I love her. We are fine. She is fine. Now, I am going to finish making these scrambled eggs and take some up to her because she needs to eat."

Alison stood on her feet then and moved back upstairs, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. She sank down to sit on the edge of the bath and lowered her head, letting herself cry in solace as the conversation from the kitchen ran around in her head.

...

A/N: I was so overwhelmed by the number of you who reviewed the last chapter. It makes me feel so inspired to know that you are still out there and interested in this continuing! I can say that in a couple of chapter's time we will be moving into No Time To Die and I have an idea about which way to go for the story, but I love reading your suggestions/things you want to see. Do let me know what you think and hope to post again soon!