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0_0_7It was a lazy Sunday but Bond was not particularly enjoying it. Every day was lazy these days. He hated being on medical leave. He understood, he did, he was hardly service ready when he couldn't remember anything more than a few years ago. He'd begun to get bits back, recalling the most odd snatches of things. Things from his childhood, from Eton, from the Navy. But it wasn't enough to get him working again.
He sat on the sofa with a glass of scotch and Q's tablet. He was going through the man's blog, looking at the pictures from last year. He was shameless about it, about enjoying the sight of the man he loved. Q was beautiful and Bond loved the different pictures.
He found one he particularly liked and he stopped to study it. Maybe Sunday wouldn't be a waste. He could enjoy his fiance.
He sat on the sofa with a glass of scotch and Q's tablet. He was going through the man's blog, looking at the pictures from last year. He was shameless about it, about enjoying the sight of the man he loved. Q was beautiful and Bond loved the different pictures.
He found one he particularly liked and he stopped to study it. Maybe Sunday wouldn't be a waste. He could enjoy his fiance.