It would take five days of frantic deciphering before Q had anything useful for Bond. They didn't have time to meet up. Bond had been able to further deceive Madeleine into trusting him wholeheartedly and she would take him with her to the next gathering of Spectre.
Q was hanging on by a thread on the other end of the comms. Listening to Bond's beguiling of Madeleine was turning all of his insecurities back on. Forgotten were the kisses and gentle touches, the reassurances Bond had giving before they had parted.
But Q had a job to do, and no matter what, he wanted Bond back safe and sound. While he managed to keep things secret from M and even Moneypenny, Tanner started to suspect something was up when he saw the bulldog on Q's desk. His visits became more frequent, making it obvious for Q that Tanner was aware of him hiding something. However, Tanner didn't push and Q was grateful for the undemanding company. As much as he could immerse himself into a problem, he still liked to have people around him. Bustling and talking, a background noise that had been missing entirely for far too long from Q-branch.
As it turned out, the bulldog did indeed hold evidence which could be turned into a powerful weapon against several of the members of the hearing committee. Olivia had meticulously collected incriminating information and details on each member, including photos and videos. Perfect blackmail material. And M had no qualms in using it once Q presented his findings. By then, Q had no choice but to disclose Bond's implication and the true nature of the on-going mission. He had warned Bond about it, even lined up an exit strategy if MI6 should choose to turn on their former agent. As it turned out, M was only too pleased to welcome Bond back into the service. Maybe mostly because M could reinstate Bond in absentia, avoiding the inevitable smugness Bond undoubtedly would exude.
Moneypenny was the last one to know and she was furious, giving Q the scolding of his lifetime. His escape was in the form of a distress signal from Bond, demanding Q's attention there and then, leaving Moneypenny at her desk planning out her revenge, no doubt.
Once again Bond had most certainly succeeded in turning a mission into a lesson on destruction and the art of improvisation for escaping certain-death situations. As much as Q had loathed listening to Bond seducing Madeleine, he did secretly enjoy leading Bond, anticipating the enemy's next move and Bond's response while looking for possible makeshift weapons or hiding places in Bond's path. This, this was Q's reason for being the quartermaster, for being the guiding voice in Bond's ear piece, competent and foreseeing, in control of the situation even as another building was reduced to dust in a spectacular explosion.
In the end, Bond brought down the last remnants of Spectre. Olivia's legacy had made it possible, giving Q access to the very beginning of the organisation and the people behind. An organisation which had threads up into the highest parts of the British government, honed and developed through several generations of criminal endeavours. How Madeleine even could begin to think she could use this group for any good was entirely beyond Q.
The final meeting of Spectre took place in Switzerland. Bond killed off most attendees, creating a minor international incident with the Swiss authorities who weren't too pleased by the amount of dead bodies piling up around him. Madeleine herself was put in custody, suffering a major breakdown when she was sent back to London. Bond hunted down the last two mercenaries in Ukraine, before he could board an ordinary scheduled flight back from Kiev.
Q had filled out most of the paperwork before he called it a night. He couldn't remember when he had last been at home, let alone slept. He was sure Mrs Turner had abducted the cats, finally succeeding in keeping them at her place. He was too tired to bother when he climbed the stairs, clinging onto the banister to drag himself up to the next steps. When he opened the door to his flat, he briefly wondered about the lights being on. As knackered as he felt, he just threw his jacket on the floor and toed off his shoes. He just about made it to the sofa, where he unceremoniously threw himself onto the cushions and fell asleep.
Thus, he didn't hear or see Bond watching him from the kitchen and then walking silently towards him, carefully taking off his glasses, tucking him in under a few blankets and making sure to turn down the lights. With a content smile, Bond sat down in the arm chair next to the sofa, letting his hands trail softly through Q's hair.
When Q woke up next day somewhere around early afternoon, the smell of freshly-made tea and scones greeted him. Without a second thought, he turned on the sofa to put on his glasses, lying right where he definitely hadn't left them the night before. He frowned, realising that Mrs Turner was not someone who would make a complimentary breakfast or afternoon tea. It took another minute or two for him to realise that Bond was standing at the open kitchen door with an affectionate smile on his face, a ghastly apron on, hands holding a tray with Q's heirloom tea set on it. The scent was mouthwatering and Q's stomach made itself heard with a loud growl.
"Not much of a morning person, are we?"
Bond stepped into the living room and set the tray on the coffee table in front of Q, after clearing a few of Q's gadgets away. A sleepy yawn and something like tea was all the conversation skill, Q offered at the moment. Digging himself out of the blankets, Q kept one of them draped over his shoulders. His sleep-mussed hair and wrinkled clothes made Bond's heart clutch. He sat down beside Q and started feeding him small pieces of scones with a generous amount of clotted cream, handing out the cup of tea whenever Q made a small motion towards it. Q leaned into Bond, nuzzling against his shoulder and opening his mouth every time Bond proposed another piece of scones. The cream was sliding down Q's chin, and, catching it with his tongue, Q looked at Bond and winked. Bond took the hint and leaned in for a kiss. Q went pliant under Bond's hands and mouth.
Tentative at first, seeking permission and reestablishing their connection, Bond started to undress Q. Soft skin was touched with calloused fingers, Q shivering under the ministrations, watching Bond's progress with wide eyes. His lips were parted, again and again inviting Bond to stop, nip and lick at flushed, red flesh offered — shared between them. They were taking and giving, entwining their bodies with each other, moving in unison without hesitation acting and reacting to the needs, wants of the other.
The confidence in Q's caresses left Bond breathless. Q knew how to take control like he so often did with Bond. He used their bodies to bring them to the edge, leave them on the very brink of the climax, only to pull them back, both whimpering with the need to feel the other, to lose themselves in the arms of each other. Bond felt an almost tangible desperation creep in on him when Q moved away from their spot on the sofa, standing in the middle of the room utterly unselfconscious about his nudity. He beckoned to Bond.
"Let's move this into the bedroom, James."
Bond divested himself from the rest of his clothes and the blankets tangled around him. Q let his eyes roam appreciatively over Bond's body. A few bruises and several old scars were visible, but Q's gaze lingered telling on Bond's groin. Well endowed and very interested , he thought with a smirk. He turned and ran, followed by Bond who caught him just in front of Q's neatly-made bed.
They threw themselves onto the unused bedsheets, dust swirling in the sunlight around them. Laughing at each other like two teenagers, they grew still when their eyes met. They both saw the question, the doubt in the other.
Do we have a future, together ?
Bond nodded and Q mouthed a yes before their lips met once more in a searing kiss. The interruption was soon forgotten. This time, they held each other close, their arousal palpable between them, their motions becoming frantic, erratic. Together, they came; together, they lay in each other's arms, getting their breaths back; together, they eventually fell asleep, oblivious to the mess around them, on them.
And together, they woke up early the next morning. Bond got up and out of bed first, Q refusing to budge despite feeling sticky and in dire need of a bath. Somehow, Q made it into the bathroom and they had their first kerfuffle under the shower. Q complaining about getting a cold back, then complaining about water in his eyes, shampoo in his ears — and then Bond had it. He pushed Q up against the cold tiles, having him squeak before letting his eyes roam predatorily over the naked body in front of him, having Q shiver with anticipation. Taking hold of Q's wrist, Bond held him pinned against the wall. Then Bond hesitated and Q huffed, dragging one leg up and ankling it behind Bond's back, drawing him closer, before anchoring himself on Bond with his other leg.
"Take me," he whispered under the spray of water, tilting his head to the side, offering his neck to Bond. And Bond took. Q let him have his way, opened up, bid him welcome. Hard thrusts and forceful hands made good use of the willing body clinging to Bond. Without a second thought his kisses turned into love bites, sucking, biting. Q surrendered himself, moaning, writhing in Bond's hold, enticing him to go further, to let go of any inhibitions. Bond came with a drawn out growl, followed by a quiet sigh from Q who slumped in on himself, contented and satisfied. He ended up being carried out of the shower, rubbed dry and placed in the armchair, fresh towels draped around his body. He was half asleep again, lulled into this peaceful state of mind by the domestic noises coming from the kitchen. Bond was preparing breakfast and the smell of toast, coffee and tea wafted through the flat.
Their peace was broken a few hours later. Bond was summoned back to head quarter's, his report to M long awaited. With a huff, Q watched him getting ready to leave.
"I'll be back in a few hours, love."
Q smiled over the endearment.
"James," he called out just when Bond was opening the door.
"Kiss me," Q said as Bond turned towards him, "hard before you go."