"I did," Harry said. "It's worked out... fine in the end, I suppose." Though even as he said it, he knew how much he missed being in the field. And how self conscious about his eye he was.
"And I really do think he'll be fine. Just be prepared for his... emotional state. At least for a while."
"Oh, I don't know. We might have to fight the cats for the leftovers," Q
laughed as he sat near the foot of the bed and started to fill a plate for
Bond
"One of them has been holding me in place since you two left," he said. "I couldn't see which one."
The way Bond used his arms to pull himself into a better position to eat spoke volumes of just how many times the man had suffered a medical leave and painful recovery. He was used to being injured.
It wasn't his knee that bothered him as much as how dull of a story it would be.
As Q handed him his plate, he resolved he'd never admit he'd survived the things he had to be taken out by a household accident.
"As long as he doesn't chase them, I think they'll be fine," Q assured
Harry. "I have a friend who used to bring her dog over on occasion, and
they never seem bothered. The dog was very well trained though."
It was, perhaps, the first time Q had really spoken about his life outside
the office.
"Yes, I'm fine with whatever you like," Q assured him, eating a little
more, then putting his plate aside before crawling up the bed to settle in
on one side of James.
Harry stacked up the plates and tray to get them out of the way, then looked down at them on the bed. "I remember what it's like to be laid up," he said. "I mean, after I woke up from the coma and everything. It's shitty. You should at least get to pick where to spend some time."
"I am going to remember you said that. The next time you're shirty and tell
me to put my back in it, I'll remind you how important my comfort is," Bond
chuckled.
With strong potions and good food in his belly, his upset at the whole
situation was dulled. Instead, he focused on the warmth of Q against him
and the calm reassurance n Harry's voice.
Harry moved closer to them, and leaned down and kissed the top of Q's head. "Stay here with him," he said softly. "I'll clean up, and then I need to get back to the office, do some... paperwork."
Q couldn't be more right. Bond had already dozed off. Not entirely asleep-
he heard them- but the potions, a full belly, and Q warm and close...Bond
couldn't resist.
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"Us," Q said. "He's lucky to have us."
He put the order through, leaning back a bit against Harry.
"He's going to be fine," he decided.
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He was quiet for a moment and then added, "When I lost my eye and they told me I couldn't go back into the field, I was depressed for a long time."
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"But you bounced back, right? And his leg isn't gone..." Q insisted awkwardly, not wanting to imagine a world where Bond couldn't be Bond.
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"And I really do think he'll be fine. Just be prepared for his... emotional state. At least for a while."
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Q nodded a little, then sighed. "Right now let's just get him fed, make some more tea as well. Food always helps, right?"
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"Oh, there's a little fold away wooden bed tray," Q nodded, moving to fetch it, then unfolding it on the table so Harry could see.
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"Scotch," Q joked. "I think he prefers breakfast tea. I think when he makes earl gray, it's for me."
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Q laughed softly, rushing to the door when the food arrived.
"We should bring this all through. Hopefully he's hungry."
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"We may have to be patient with him for a bit," Harry said, trying to imagine someone bringing him tea after he'd been shot.
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"I know. I know, I won't push," Q assured him as he helped carry things through.
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When Q came in, the cat got up and the movement was enough to make Bond open his eyes, though he didn't move yet.
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He leaned down and stroked the cat when they came over to him after jumping off the bed.
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"Harry and I ordered some dinner," Q said as he set the tray on the bed. "A little bit of everything off the menu."
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"It smells delicious," he said, then cleared the sleep from his rough voice.
"We'll be eating it for days," he smiled then.
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He moved to the other side of Bond's bed, and smiled down at him. "We will," he said. "All three of us, probably."
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"Oh, I don't know. We might have to fight the cats for the leftovers," Q laughed as he sat near the foot of the bed and started to fill a plate for Bond
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The way Bond used his arms to pull himself into a better position to eat spoke volumes of just how many times the man had suffered a medical leave and painful recovery. He was used to being injured.
It wasn't his knee that bothered him as much as how dull of a story it would be.
As Q handed him his plate, he resolved he'd never admit he'd survived the things he had to be taken out by a household accident.
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"How do you think they would do with Mr. Pickles?" he asked Q suddenly. As if that was the major concern of the three of them living together.
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"As long as he doesn't chase them, I think they'll be fine," Q assured Harry. "I have a friend who used to bring her dog over on occasion, and they never seem bothered. The dog was very well trained though."
It was, perhaps, the first time Q had really spoken about his life outside the office.
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"They do fine with me," Bond quipped before popping a shrimp in his mouth.
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“So where should we go?” Harry asked them. “If we take a bit of a vacation. Even if we want a seaside that leaves a lot of options.”
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"I suppose we could go to Blackpool- Maybe Spain?" Q suggested thoughtfully between bites. "Warmer there."
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"What about Salema?" he asked.
"Portugal is lovely. And warm," he promised.
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"Yes, I'm fine with whatever you like," Q assured him, eating a little more, then putting his plate aside before crawling up the bed to settle in on one side of James.
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Bond reached out to wrap his arm around Q and pull him close.
"You're terribly agreeable," he noted. "You're both being suspiciously accommodating. What aren't you telling me?"
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"And I just want you to be comfortable," Q said.
Though what he was really hoping for was a fast recovery. Seeing James like this was hard. Selfish, but true.
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"I am going to remember you said that. The next time you're shirty and tell me to put my back in it, I'll remind you how important my comfort is," Bond chuckled.
With strong potions and good food in his belly, his upset at the whole situation was dulled. Instead, he focused on the warmth of Q against him and the calm reassurance n Harry's voice.
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"I can help, if you like," Q offered, though part of him didn't want to leave Bond's side. "I should really get the bathroom back in order."
Bond's fall had left a bit of a mess after all.
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Bond was quiet for a moment, then. His morth faded away.
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
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And then he looked down at Bond and said sternly, "You have nothing to apologize for."
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Q nodded, settling back in a bit and offering Harry a small smile of thanks.
"Yes, Harry's right. You've no reason to be sorry about anything. You just need to focus on taking care of yourself right now."
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"I was under the impression I don't even need to do that much," Bond chuckled, letting his eyes slip shut.
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Q nodded slightly, touching Harry's arm gently.
"Of course," he said. "We'll be here when you're done for the night," he promised.
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Q couldn't be more right. Bond had already dozed off. Not entirely asleep- he heard them- but the potions, a full belly, and Q warm and close...Bond couldn't resist.