Moneypenny was not at her desk when Q arrived. Granted, he was ten minutes early, intentionally of course, eyeing the chessboard in the corner by the window on entering her domain. Q instantly saw the move Mallory was attempting to instigate; a kind of retreat to lure your unsuspecting opponent into a false sense of dominance before stripping them of all their protection. Q smiled. You'd have to get out of bed bloody early on a Sunday to catch the Quartermaster napping. He looked at his watch. He had time.

Winston was dozing in his bed in the corner of the room. Mallory had fed him well and between bouts of excitable activity, the pup still had to take time to rest and grow. M had worried he had taken on a project that might prove too much, but as usual, Moneypenny was right. The company was actually helping level his mood and was proving an adequate distraction from the recent changes in his personal circumstances. He rose from his desk, engrossed in the file he was currently perusing, and gently opened his door without lifting his attention from the document. He was about to speak when he noticed, his wiry-framed Quartermaster hovering with his back to him, so engrossed in his study of the chessboard, he had failed to hear M's office door open. He was unsure in that moment why he had done it, but he paused to take in the sight. A rather pleasing sight were he completely honest with himself…

So absorbed in his covert study of his young Quartermaster, he failed to notice the stealthy paws of Winston, sneak past his legs and spring to life at the presence of a new person. He bound up in front of the oblivious man and leapt up against his knees. Q was so surprised, he jumped a half-foot in the air and stumbled backwards, losing his grip on his iPad and the balance of his feet in the same motion. Equally as quick, and purely on instinct, M moved forward to catch the stumbling body before it collided with the floor, wrapping one arm around his waist to break his fall while the hand of the other caught the Pad.

Q froze.

M froze.

It was in that moment, Moneypenny materialised with their lunch.

"Well. That wasn't at all embarrassing," mumbled Q, the remnants of a blush still colouring his cheekbones. He fumbled between his rescued iPad and fiddling with his glasses. Q looked at M over his glasses. "You appear to be enjoying my discomfiture. You and your… Hound of the Baskervilles," he said, eyeing the animal who was sitting innocently in his basket, tail thumping happily as though he had successfully completed a mission to cause him mortifying embarrassment.

M slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and shrugged with a smile. "Am I to be reprimanded for saving my Quartermaster's dignity?"

Q humphed. "But at what cost? I'll never hear the end of this from your PA," he said, throwing his hands dramatically in the air before flopping down resignedly on the comfy chair opposite M.

"Well, look on the bright side, Q."

"Oh really. There's a bright side, Sir."

"At least she had her hands full and couldn't get her Smartphone camera out quick enough to capture the moment for posterity."

Q had to concede that.

"And frankly, if she wants my job, she's going to have to be nice to me," he said, reaching for the bag Moneypenny had placed on his desk to extract their lunch boxes.

Q gave a lopsided smile. "You shouldn't joke about things like that, Sir."

M didn't halt with his unwrapping task. "Who said I was joking?" The smell hit the empty-stomached genius and he failed to stifle the grumble in his stomach. M pretended he didn't notice. Until he didn't.

"Interesting fact about the human body, Q. Your belly isn't just that place where food goes. It's actually at the centre of all body systems and its health can influence how we feel and react to stress," he said casually, handing Q a box of noodles with a fork. "Unable to make cognitive thoughts certainly, but it accounts for how we sense, how we intuitively feel about a situation or environment and the vibes we get from people, an important survival mechanism."

"In that case, 007 must have done about 99% of his thinking with his gut then," pointedly ignoring the aim of M's observation. He waited for his superior to dig into his own food before helping himself. "Did you get me here under false pretences, Sir? To feed me?"

"Not at all, Q," he replied, pulling a file in front of him and waving it, "we will be discussing your staff. I've had the future M, of course, keeping a surreptitious eye on all my departments. The buck stops in this office as it were, so it's in my best interests to have third party, objective input."

"Hmmmm," mumbled Q, through a mouthful of noodles. Swallowing, he said, "at least now we know who watches the watchmen. I'm glad she's on our side…"

M chuckled. "Indeed. Now," he said, all businesslike, "I know you've got the tech side all sown up, Quartermaster, but let's talk about keeping the human element of Q Division in tiptop working condition. Queen and Country depends upon it…"

An hour later and they were done. Grudgingly, Q had to admit to himself it was worth the effort. The man had a knack for people, unusual in one that had been so entrenched in military service, but as they talked, M had somehow managed to coax Q out of his own head and into that of his staff. Bit of a fucking charmer truth be told, Q mused to himself, moving the chess piece he'd had his eye on before that blasted dog had nearly given him a double coronary, the second one being a result of landing in his superior's arms… Very nice arms actually, now that he recalled the feel of them around his waist. Q mentally slapped the lurch and twist in his second brain for its treachery before turning towards the door.

He gave Eve a narrow-eyed threatening glare before leaving the office. "I swear, Moneypenny, if I hear even a murmur…"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Really, Q. I have a reputation to maintain," an unmissable tease in her tone. "I mean, who on earth, never mind in this building, would believe I caught the Head of MI6 and our adorable Quartermaster locked in a hot embrace?"