Warning: If you really, really liked Dr Swann's character, then maybe from here on is not for you. Though I'm not afraid to wager there is enough 00Q love here to forgive me for what I am about to do. :)

Later That Evening, Back in Rome

"Cuckoo…"

It was safe to say it took a hell of a lot to rattle the impenetrable cage of James Bond. On seeing the face from his broken past turn from the shadow to allow the light of the present to reveal his existence, the boy long since thought dead came avalanching with full force into his world. James was left with only one option.

Run.

Tokyo

Tanner's heart sank when the alert popped up on his screen.

High speed car chase lands Aston in River Tiber

He typed a quick message to M, seated the other side of Max Denbigh, the soon to be head of the united forces of MI5 and MI6, spearheading the Nine Eyes Initiative. M was watching the vote with baited breath when the message popped up on his screen.

Are we sure Bond is in London?

Mallory looked over at Tanner with the expression of a man who was wondering why the hell he'd allowed himself be talked into taking the blasted position in which he now found himself.

He exited the room and dialled his Quartermaster. "Where's Bond? Right now. And he better be where you say he is otherwise you're in deep shit, Q…"

Heathrow Airport, London

Q had bought them 48 hours. At least with M otherwise occupied in Tokyo there was time enough to hopefully get the intel Bond needed from the former head of Quantum, Mr White, so they could get the hell back to London before Mallory's return.

He powered down and closed his laptop after reconfirming Bond's European location. He'd be there in less than four hours. God, it'll be good to see him again. He checked his seatbelt and stared straight ahead. Q gripped the armrests of his seat as he felt the plane's engines power up for takeoff.

He closed his eyes and thought of James. Good thing I love you so bloody much, you reckless arse, he thought to himself.

Bond's Location, Austrian Alps

Bond was high on adrenaline when he crashed through the door of Q's hotel room.

"FUCK!" He hissed, slamming the door behind him.

Q stood up from the laptop where he had been working, compiling the results from his analysis of Sciarra's ring. Questions had been answered and theories had become fact. Their former M had been on the trail of something bigger than any of them imagined, and the Nine Eyes Initiative posed an unprecedented danger. Q could tell, however, that right at this moment, something more pressing required his attention and ministrations.

Never having been in immediate physical proximity with the agent in field operations of this nature, the sight of Bond in such disarray left him somewhat unsure if it was wise to approach him while in this state of mind.

He trained his voice level and calm, naturally falling into a cadence that Q knew would bring him down.

"What's wrong, Bond?"

He looked up then, registering him for the first time since entering the room. He felt his shoulders tense. Q recognised the signs of internal battle.

Bond's trained emotionless response reared to the surface. "I lost the girl. Dr Swann. White's daughter."

Q lowered his gaze, relaxed his body, moving carefully towards the agent as one would approach a skittish stallion. Bond's mouth was a tight line. Q could sense he was beating himself up internally. So he kept silent, giving Bond space to process.

His eyes were screwed shut, hands clenching and releasing in an effort to calm boiling blood. "Another innocent. Gone."

"You know it's not your fault, 007." His eyes flew open at those words and sapphire blue flared in anger. He lunged at Q, directing all the pent up coil in his muscles at the man, tossing him roughly against the wall. Q knew there was no point resisting and despite the attack, knew Bond would not truly hurt him. "You shouldn't be with me. I can't keep you safe," Bond's words were deliberately harsh, his eyes cold. An attempt to push the man away.

"And yet here I am, a fool rushing in," whispered Q.

Q felt James' body's tension soften just a touch, a resigned sort of ease.

"James…"

The sound of his name from Arthur Clifton's lips was all it took to push through the battle shield to the human being lurking quiet and repentant beneath the armour.

Q felt the switch flick and James relaxed against him, falling into his body, pressing him further against the wall.

"James…" He spoke his name again, softening the battle lines within him and between each other.

Q felt more of the tension ebb away from Bond's body, the man dragging him into his arms and burying his face into Q's neck.

"You always get me home," Bond's muffled voice, warm against his skin.

"I am your Quartermaster," he whispered against his ear, ghosting gentle fingers along the side of his neck.

"Are you with me, James?"

"Almost…" he murmured, leaning back for a moment, only to lean forward immediately again to capture Q's lips between his own. He released him a few long moments later and turned him round to face the mirror on the wall behind them, placing the palms of Q's hands flush against the smooth surface. Q gazed at Bond's reflection in the glass. He rested his chin on his shoulder, the trembling in his hands subsiding as he caressed Q's hips. Somehow, Q knew exactly what to say.

"I am your Quartermaster," he repeated softly. Bond's hands moved to undo his belt.

"You always get me home…" the agent repeated back, the self-soothing words, anchoring him back to the solid space occupied by Q. Dropping to his knees behind him, James spoke his next words into the small of his back, breath now even, steady, reverent, worshipping the vessel of his Quartermaster's mind.

"I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. I want you to see what I see when I take you, break you apart, love you…"

So Q did as he was told.

And may God Almighty erase him bodily from the world with a bolt of lightning, if the next 10 minutes weren't the most insanely erotic of his life.