It was certainly one of the more interesting cab rides Q had ever taken, 007 straddled above him on the back seat, helping himself to the contents of Q's embarrassingly eager mouth.
If he'd woken up this morning and was told that by midnight he'd be locked in a hot embrace with James Bond in the back of a London cab, he'd have sent the bearer of said news to Medical with a sick note and orders to take the rest of the week off.
Bond extricated himself from Q's lap and took the seat opposite, running a steady hand smoothly down the front of his shirt as he did so.
He levelled a heated gaze at Q. An infuriatingly gorgeous, infuriatingly whatever else, smile on his face.
"Did I mention how damnably devastating you look in that suit by the way?"
Q refused to be outdone. "You didn't have to mention anything of the kind, Bond. Though I imagine it'll only be a close second to how devastating you look out of yours."
Those words, apparently, were enough for Bond to resume his assault for a few long moments more as though they hadn't stopped. He could feel his walls crumble beneath Q's confident but gentle touch. This man who had reached out and found the last remnants of Bond's humanity, enough to tug him back from the edge of his self-designed precipice with a few well-chosen words.
"You know you really are something special, Quartermaster." Bond laughed a rich, deep sound that warmed Q on the inside and sent a wave of chills across his neck. "Do you have any inkling the amount of restraint I'm exercising at the moment?"
"And do you know if M finds out about this we may as well pack our bags. Plenty of warm clothes too, for the Serbian outpost we'll be calling home for the remainder of our lives."
Bond ran a warm hand under his jacket, suddenly aware of the sharp contrast of smooth skin against his own battle scarred body, when he heard a restrained… was that a giggle?
"Oh my," whispered Bond into Q's ear, "Say it isn't so. Our most stalwart of Quartermasters isn't ticklish, is he?" He leaned back to take in Q's expression, an expression which reminded him of the look he'd been on the receiving end of after taking Le Chiffre for every penny he had. He simply returned the murderous look with a smile. "We'd better keep that little titbit under wraps for fear the enemy ever did get hold of you, Q. Not even sure I could protect the nation's secrets in that scenario."
He resumed his seat again, watching Q shuffle uncomfortably as though chastising his body for giving in so easily. "And back to your previous comment, let me lay that particular demon to rest, Q. M already knows."
Q took pause from his fidgeting. "Knows what exactly? Nothing's happened."
"I told her yesterday of my interest in you. I tell her most things that it benefits me for her to know. Better that way than she finds out by indirect means. So heads up. She'll be calling us both into her office this week for an official dressing down on the subject."
"Oh joy. Can't wait."
"Now," Bond said, epitome of casualness. "Your place or mine?"
"Yours," replied Q, with equal nonchalance. "I imagine it will be easier to leave your bed than kick you out of mine."
"What makes you think it'll be easier to leave? Especially seeing as you'll be tied to said bed."
Q barked an "I'd like to see you try" laugh. "And by the way, it's not as like my restraint isn't being tested here either. Still, a healthy ballast of restraint comes with the territory of our work, does it not?"
Bond leaned forward again, the look in his eye suggesting a comment about future plans to invade and lay to waste to the territory of Q poised on his lips when both men's phones sounded almost simultaneously.
"Looks like we'll have to postpone dessert and coffee."
"Don't worry, 007. Your Quartermaster will be at his post watching your back as per usual," said Q, before tapping on the partition separating them from their wide-eyed cab driver with new directions towards Vauxhall Bridge.