"Well, I am sorry to crush those hopes, Bond, but this is going to be a mission, not another opportunity to put another notch on your bedpost." Q says in an acerbic tone, apparently more offended by Bond's implications he was misusing his abilities than the double-oh had originally thought. Any trace of the soft, relaxed, playful tones that Q might have had before are gone, now he is back to being cool and professional, all his walls going back up.
Well, that just won't do. Getting up from his seat on the couch, James walks over and takes the liberty to dip his hand into the pocket of Q's cardigan, pulling out the ring. "We only have a few hours, might as well get used to this." he says as he opens the ring box, looking at the simple gold band inside. Unfortunately for Q, he's got rather sharp eyes, so when he pulls the ring out, he notices the engraving on the inside. "The Master?" He asks with an arch of an eyebrow, "Definitely too much Doctor Who, Q.." He points out as he takes the younger man's hand in his gently before lifting it to slide the gold band onto his ring finger. "Looks rather good there, actually." He says quietly, having perched himself on Q's desk again, but much closer to the young man this time. He continues to hold the younger man's hand deliberately, stroking his thumb across the soft skin of his hands, admiring the long fingers.
Hating himself the entire time, Q doesn't pull away, he in fact turns a bright shade of pink when the older man puts the ring on him, and he clears his throat a little. "You weren't meant to see that." He says simply as he looks at Bond, hoping he doesn't get the bright idea to look at his own ring. Of course that would be a little too much to hope for.
"Cheeky bugger." Bond accuses in a slightly affectionate tone, finally releasing Q's hand, "And what did you put on mine, then?" he asks, pulling out the box and pulling out the ring, eyebrows going up. "Old Dog? You've been talking to Moneypenny, haven't you?" He asks curiously, slipping the ring on his own finger, frowning at it for a few moments as he twists it around. It fits perfectly of course, it just feels rather strange on his hand. "Perhaps I'll let you get back to work, then." He says quietly, surprisingly not offended by the inscription on his ring. "I don't think you'll quite be the Master in this relationship." He adds with a slight smirk, before he gets up and moves back to his couch.
Only slightly flustered, Q pushes his glasses back up and he clears his throat. "Yes, I have had quite a few chats with miss Moneypenny." He says simply, "Now if you don't mind, I do have work to do." he reminds the agent for the second time, but there's a little less bite to his words, some of the affection creeping back in.
Bond returns to his place at the couch, amused and happy that he managed to patch things up a bit with his quartermaster. So he retreats to his folder, looking over the information thoroughly before he settles on just watching how Q moves around, doing his paperwork, work on the computer and managing his employees. He preps R on her responsibilities while he's gone, getting caught up in his work so he doesn't notice the time.
"You need to get ready, we need to leave soon, Q." Bond says as he approaches Q from behind, touching his shoulder lightly and watching the younger man jump.
Blinking a few times, startled by Bond's appearance behind him, Q looks at the time. "Blimey. Is that the time?" he asks, and then nods quietly. "Alright." he says before he stands. "I'll meet you out front in fifteen minutes." he says simply before turning to go over to his suitcase to get his clothes out.
A little amused at the boffin, 007 shakes his head for a moment. "Fifteen minutes." He says in a firm tone. "I'll arrange a car for us." he says before he strides out to go down to his lockers where he's put his own suitcase and such, changing into a comfortable pair of khaki slacks, loafers and a light button-down, short sleeved shirt. He has a light windbreaker that he slips on as well before he heads with his suitcase out front, having their airplane tickets as well.
When Q finally finishes with his branch and changes, he heads out front to find Bond. His change is a bigger one, wearing converse, and an old, soft pair of jeans that cling in just the right places, some small holes around the knees that are from natural age and use, rather than buying them like that. Above the belt that keeps those up is a simple light green t-shirt, which is a lot more fitted than his normal cardigans and button-ups, and it has a faded Triforce symbol from Zelda on it. Over that he has his normal windbreaker/parka and is carrying his suitcase. But more surprising than that perhaps is the fact that he's not wearing his glasses, even if he has it in his carry-on which is his messenger bag. "Ready to go, then?" He asks nonchalantly, putting his suitcase in the boot of the car that is waiting for them.
For a few moments, James has no idea what to say, he's never seen Q like this, and if anything, it makes him want to get to know his enigmatic quartermaster even more. He finds this new look charming and very attractive. "Well, then, Q. Who knew you wore contacts." He says with an arch of an eyebrow, opening the car door for the younger man.
"I don't like them. Also, my glasses help reduce the glare from my monitors. But, I thought it would be easier for me to use them for the flight at the very least." Q explains as he slides into the car, Stretching a little and leaning his head back against the head rest for a moment. He really is trying to remain calm. The clink of glasses together brings him out of it, and he opens one eye to look at Bond and the glass that's being held toward him. "Are you trying to get me drunk, 007?" he asks in surprise, arching an eyebrow.
"It will help relax you. And you should start calling me James." Bond points out as he wiggles the glass a little, having specifically asked for the car to be stocked after being concerned about Q's possible reaction to flying. "I am not trying to get you drunk, as amusing a that might be, I don't want to worry about you giving away secrets." he says with a slight smirk.
Q snorts a little, shaking his head. "No thank you. You don't know how the alcohol might mix with whatever Medical gave me." He says as he pulls out the little white bag.
"Suit yourself." Bond says with a little shrug, downing the drink and putting the glass aside. Silence falls after that, and unfortunately because of an accident, the traffic is heavier than they were expecting so they get to the airport just in time to get through security, where Bond gets Q a bottle of water. "You should take one of those now." he says as he sees the younger man's anxiety.
Getting through security is nerve-wracking for Q since he is very protective of his tech. That, and he's actually in an airport, very close to getting on a plane, so he's freaking out a little, trying to take deep breaths. A nod of his head is given to Bond before he pulls the white bag out, for the first time pulling out the two little bottles that are inside, which makes his jaw drop. "Muscle relaxants and bloody DRAMAMINE?!" He nearly yells, ending it in a hiss. Now he really does start panicking since he knows they don't have time to leave and get anything else.
Wincing a little, and starting to feel a certain amount of dread, Bond moves over and puts an arm around his Quartermaster's waist as he thinks the younger man might be closer to having a panic attack, quickly getting him over to a seat and sitting down. "At least we're flying first class.." he mumbles thoughtfully, mostly to himself. "Q, focus. Guess you should have checked the bag before we left. They must have mixed up the medications. You're going to be fine." He reassures as he crouches down in front of the younger man to look into his eyes.
Focusing on Bond, Q nods a little, fighting back the panic of his mind. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. "Alright.." he says just as they announce their first class passengers are boarding, and he allows Bond to pull him up, even allows the arm to stay around him as he numbly follows the man toward the plane and onto it into the first class cabins. He carefully places his bag in the overhead but keeps his mp3 player tucked into his pocket before taking the window seat. He quickly shuts the window and grips onto the arms of the chair tightly. "I can't do this." he decides, shaking his head a little.
Worried for the mental health of the young man beside him, James reaches over and puts one of his hands over Q's, before he shifts and places the other on the back of the man's neck to steady him. "It's alright, Quentin." he slips easily into his role. "I'm sorry that the chemist bollixed up the pills, but you'll be fine. We'll be on sunny beaches soon enough." he reassures as he rubs the back of the younger man's neck, listening to his breathing and watching his face.
"James.." Q says uncertainly, clearly distressed when he glances over at the agent. "I will not be fine. I can't do this. I know I said I could, for you, but I don't think I can." He decides, somehow managing to hold character. His breathing is starting to get quicker, heading straight for a panic attack.
"It's alright.. Listen to me. You can do this." James says, pressing Q's head down slowly to his knees. "Deep breaths." he says, glancing over at the stewardess who comes over worriedly. "We're fine. It's fine. Could we have two scotches, please?" He asks as he looks at the young woman, before he looks at the young man. At first he thought it might be amusing seeing Q squeamish about flying, but now that he sees how much genuine fear the man has, it's no longer funny.
For his part, Q is trying very hard not to panic. It's not helping all that much, but Bond's steady hand on him is helping a little as he puts his head between his knees and takes a few deep breaths. It doesn't seem to be helping though, and instead he's just getting a little dizzy so he sits up, eyes closed. "James.." he says uncertainly as he looks over at the agent beside him.
Deciding to change tactics, James flips up the arm that separates their seats, and then buckles both him and Q up before he pulls the younger man against his side. "Keep your eyes closed." he says, moving the arm that was around his waist to curl his hand around and put it over Q's eyes, feeling the long lashes fluttering against his skin. Smiling a little, he nods quietly. "Good.. Just keep breathing, Q.. Listen to my voice and keep breathing." he says quietly, before he slips his arm under Q's hand. "You know how to take a pulse, I assume. Take mine. Focus on my pulse, my voice, block everything else out of that brilliant bloody brain of yours." he says quietly, deciding to distract Q a little further by lowering his head and kissing the curve of Q's shoulder softly.
Little by little as Q does as James says, he starts to relax, closing his eyes but not trying to removes James' hand. He moves his hand over the older man's wrist so his fingers are pressed to the pulse point, focusing on the firm, steady pulse there. He knows this might look odd to others, but it's surprisingly effective, when he can get himself to just focus on James. That is, until the engines kick up and they start moving and he starts to panic a little again.
When the drinks come, James briefly removes his hand from around Q to take them from the stewardess with a nod of thanks. "Alright.. I want you to drink this, no complaints, love." he says, pressing the glass into the man's free hand.
Thankfully Q has other things to worry about other than the fact that James Bond just called him 'love'. He reminds himself it's all part of the cover, but he can't help a tiny little thrill that goes through him. Obediently, he takes the glass from the agent and lifts it to his lips, eyes still closed and other hand still clutching to Bond's wrist. He feels the burn of the scotch when he takes a drink, wincing and shaking his head. "Never could understand how you could drink this stuff, James. You know I prefer wine." he admits quietly, finishing the drink though and putting it aside. His whole body goes rigid, and his hand tightens on Bond's wrist when the plane jerks, slowing to make the turn in order to get onto the runway.
Finishing his own drink quickly, Bond moves back over closer to his young quartermaster, hoping to distract him by leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his neck. "Forgive me, love, I know you don't like this sort of thing, but it's the best way I know how to distract you." he says with a little chuckle. "Might want to loosen your grip though or I might lose circulation in that hand." he says softly, sliding his now free hand back around the man's body. "Just breathe, Q. Focus on me. Think about our ceremony, you know what you mean to me." He says, just to have something to say, reaching around to take Q's left hand in his, twining their fingers together so that their rings are pressing together. James places another soft kiss on Q's shoulder before he continues. "Try to relax, to sleep. It'll go by quick that way, and then we'll be in our bungalow by the beach, taking in the warm sea breeze. Maybe I can get a bloody tan on you.." He says with a soft chuckle, taking a deep breath when the plane accelerates and eventually takes off.
Q is trying very hard to focus on James but the plane is distracting him. He can't help but laugh a little. "Sleep." he says in a voice full of disbelief. "You won't get me to tan, James. I've told you, I just burn, I don't tan. I am unfortunately, rather thoroughly English." he jokes lightly, tightening his left hand in James'. He does enjoy the affection, and the fact that his distress allows him to enjoy the affection without guilt or fear of being weak or giving in too soon. It's part of their cover for one, and even if it wasn't, he could always excuse it as him being weak because of his panic, and extreme fear of heights. He does loosen his hold on Bond's wrist though, realizing he had a bit of a death grip on it. "Talk to me, James." he finally says in a soft tone. "T-tell me.. about.. about the ceremony. Tell me..what I mean to you." He says quietly, playing the part, but also wanting to hear James describe this fictional ceremony, see how well Bond can think on his feet.
Chuckling softly as if he knows Q's game, James smirks a little. "Minx." He mutters under his breath before thinking for a few moments. "I adore you, Quentin. Your sharp wit, your brilliant mind. And you're absolutely fucking adorable. You don't even know it, either, with your ridiculous hair, and that sexy voice of yours. And your bloody wit. Your tongue could cut anyone to pieces. Along with being exceptionally talented in other ways as well." Sure, he lies about that last part but he is fairly sure that Q would be a brilliant kisser. "You know how much I adore your body, and that tuxedo you were wearing during the ceremony.. I couldn't get it off of you fast enough." he murmurs softly, only for Q's ears, chuckling a little as he hears the way the younger man's breathing hitches slightly. "I'm glad that we chose a small ceremony, just our closest friends and family. I wish I knew how you found that little park and chose that spot under the trees. With the light breeze and the sun - a blessing, in London if there ever was one - making you glow. It made me fall in love with you all over again when I saw you there." Bond says this part a little louder in order for others to be able to hear it if they were listening in, cementing their cover with those on the plane at least, hopefully.
Q shivers a little, blushing as he listens to the man beside him. He keeps his eyes closed, surprisingly distracted enough for the moment that he doesn't notice he's on the plane, or the fact that his thumb has started to rub against Bond's hand slowly. He can't help his reaction, to have James' voice in his ear but to also feel at least part of the man's body against his and the breath brushing against his skin to accompany the words, it's intoxicating. He knows he has to hold strong but at the moment all he cares about is trying to distract himself. "It was lovely, wasn't it?" he murmurs quietly, finding himself relaxing despite himself. And once the tension starts to go out of his body he is feeling suddenly very sleepy. Idly he wonders if Bond put something in his drink, but if he had access to something, why not give it to him before now. Cutting off that thought, Q takes a slow, deep breath. "I think I might be able to sleep, afterall.." he mumbles softly.
"Good, Q.. get some sleep.." Bond soothes quietly as he watches the younger man, kissing the side of his head through his soft hair. "Go on, lean on me." He says quietly, waiting until the young quartermaster arranges himself comfortably before he rests his head gently on the other's, listening for a few moments until his breathing evens out and he feels all the tension slip out of the younger man's body.
"Sleep well, Q."
Long chapter! The longest so far, I think. I just couldn't find a good stopping point, and I wanted to put a little bit of panicking Q in there. Go Bond, being able to calm down Q like that.
Hope you all enjoy!
Reviews/Comments welcome!