The shrill sound of his doorbell awakens Q and he needs some moments to stumble out of bed and to the door. To his surprise it's Eve he sees through the front door camera, and who once again hits his doorbell impatiently. The sound makes him aware of his headache and he hastily buzzes her in.
When she arrives a few moments later at his doorstep he doesn't bother with niceties. "What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to me to relax and sleep and not to have any contact with anyone from the agency."
He is still mad and slightly embarrassed that M had actually ordered him to stay at home after he collapsed at the lab from exhaustion and sleep deprivation. He hadn't bothered to explain the doctors at medical branch or M that he hadn't had a decent sleep in ages (or better since his break-up with Bond). Instead he lies awake questioning his decision, missing Bond with every fibre of his being. He hadn't realised how hard he had fallen for the agent.
And on the rare occasions that he falls asleep he dreams of Bond – dreams that Bond is alone and hurt – and aches to console him. But every time he comes close to him, he wakes up gasping and with a terrible weight in his chest. Which leaves him dreading sleep as much as staying awake in the night, and is the reason why he tried to work as much as possible so that sheer exhaustion would make him sleep at last. Unfortunately this strategy didn't work.
"And a good morning to you too," Eve says pointedly. "May I come in?"
He waves her in, grumbling 'morning' back but refusing to add the moniker 'good'. She enters his flat and takes a look around as if she is expecting someone else being here. When she doesn't say anything, Q finally repeats his earlier question. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm looking for Bond. M needs him and as usual the man himself is untraceable. So where can I find him?"
"I have no idea. Why are you asking me?"
"Because you are the one dating him."
"We broke up. I ended it."
"Why on earth did you end it?
"You said it yourself. The doll works. The rubies, the lavender, the flash. We were touching, it was all there. I don't want to be with someone because of some magic trick."
"Are you kidding me?" Right now Eve is the personification of disbelief.
"No," he murmurs.
"You ended this thing with Bond because you think it was magic. Q, you are a man of the 21st century. How on earth can you work and apparently sleep," she gestures at her surroundings, "in a room full of computers and tell me you believe in magic?"
He knows that, he knows all that. Rationally there is no reason to believe in an old legend. But there is this small part of him that believes. Believes in love at first sight, believes in happily ever after, believes in magic. Looking at Eve's uncomprehending expression, he can't explain it.
"I don't."
"Then I don't understand what you are doing!"
'That makes two of us' Q thinks but doesn't say.
"You have to talk to him. Don't throw away what you have because of some stupid legend."
"I think about it."
Eve stares at him so long that he feels uncomfortable in his baggy pants and old shirt. Finally she walks to the door and opens it. But before she leaves his flat she turns around again.
"By the way, have you ever thought that a guy who is willing to meet a girl during a thunderstorm to hold a doll while wearing rubies must already be in love or he wouldn't be there?"
Q stares at the now closed door and blinks. Once, twice.
"I'm an idiot."
The words seem to bounce back from his walls and echoe back to him. Making up his mind, he practically runs into the shower and almost jumps when the cold water hits his skin, but he doesn't take the time to adjust the temperature. Barely five minutes later he stands in his bedroom and hastily puts on clothes on his still pretty wet body.
He runs to his car and only when he starts the motor he realises that he has no idea where to look for Bond. On a whim he heads to MI6 to get the doll, shouting at everybody who wants to stop him. 'I'm not even here, I just need to pick up something.' It is odd, but as soon as he is back in the car, he just knows where to go. He glances at his co-driver, but the doll looks suspiciously innocent.
Bond slowly takes another sip from his glass, savouring the taste for a moment in his mouth and then relishing the burn in his throat. It's still his first glass and it's also still the first bottle, just a casual reminder of the pleasantries in life, not a way to forget. And he wishes he could forget, forget that he made a fool of himself for someone who wasn't on the same page as him. He wonders what Q had wanted from him – Q had started mentioning dates. If he had just wanted the casual sex, he could have had that way easier without emotional entanglement.
Bond's smile is bitter. He salutes to the term 'emotional entanglement'. As if those words were an adept description. If they were he wouldn't sit here in the middle of Scottish nowhere and think about retirement. Back when he started his motivation had only been England's protection, but throughout the years the personal challenge had become a great driving force. And having someone back in MI6 who understood him. M may not have been perfect but there had been a sense of mutual understanding which he had thought he found again – albeit differently – in Q. Now only England is left, and it doesn't feel as if it is enough.
He has been here for three days and he still doesn't feel closer to a solution. One reason is certainly that he doesn't know what else to do. If he retires he doesn't want to stay with MI6 which leaves too many options, or maybe not enough.
Bond takes another sip when he hears a car approaching. Probably only some stranger who has taken the wrong turn but old habits die hard and Bond gets up to look. It is almost a shock when he recognises the driver. Q. How had he found him? And does he really want to see him?
The latter question is pretty easy to answer since he has already taken the few steps to open the door as if his body is working on its own, placing his glass on a nearby sideboard. He plasters a neutral expression on his face as he leans against the doorway and watches Q getting out of the car with the quartermaster's own kind of gracefulness and determination.
When Q spots him, he pauses and looks at Bond as if waiting for some kind of signal. Bond simply raises an eyebrow, not sure what this is about. Q closes the car door and straightens and then comes to stand in front of Bond.
"I'm an idiot. I got scared and thought it would be better to end things. But it isn't and I can't sleep and I'm a mess. And your doll … it drives me crazy. But I'm here now and I want to apologise. And I want to see you again. Yes, I know I see you all the time, but it's not the same. I mean I even dream about you …"
Bond can't help the smile at Q's rambling and wonders when life has become this easy. He knows that he won't let that man go, but he has to ask. "What got you scared?"
Q hesitates for a moment before he answers, "I didn't know if we were real."
Bond senses there is more to this than the Quartermaster admits, maybe something he should know but he lets it slide for now.
"I thought that's what dating is about. Getting to know each other, seeing where this leads?"
"As I said I'm an idiot."
Now Bond openly grins and watches the relief on Q's face. And as the younger man steps nearer he slides an arm around his neck to kiss him, feeling the other man's body melding against his. He loses himself in the taste and only when they break up for air, when he takes the chance to caress the man's face with tender fingertips, he asks.
"How did you find me?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Q whispers before he closes the gap between their mouths again.
Later, so much later, the two men lie entangled in their sheets in a barren hut in the Scottish woods. Anyone who would glance to the car in front of the hut would see a triumphant smirk on the face of an oddly lifelike doll.