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Chapter Text

After a long day at Six fending off one disaster after another—several of them Bond-related—Q comes back to a curiously quiet flat. 

He closes the door with a silent click and leaves his outerwear on the coat rack. Then he calls out the name of his most courageous cat. “Millie-dearest, where are you?” 

When there’s no answering meow to his call, Q frowns. “Minty? Chai? Jas? Has something happened, my darlings?” 

When this produces no results either, Q abandons his plans for raiding the pantry for something to eat and starts investigating instead. He checks the kitchen and the bedrooms first, but when he finds neither tail nor whiskers of his beloved kitties, he feels the first stirrings of worry. This is by no means the normal behaviour of the four little scrawny kittens he’d found and saved five years ago. 

“What is going on with you four?” Q wonders aloud, as he makes his way to the living room and his home office. And then he sees three kitties out of four, all sitting in a neat row with tails wrapped around their paws and twitching ears, intently staring at something. 

Q comes to a stop next to the cats. “What are we looking at?” he asks, curious, and gets exactly one tiny mew (from Jasmine, who is the most vocal out of them) for his troubles. 

He turns his attention to the sofa, which seems to be the main focus of the cats, and sees someone laying on there, fast asleep, with the missing Millie on top of his slowly rising and falling chest. 

“Bond,” Q breathes, astonished and wholly surprised. The man is supposed to be nowhere near London, least of all at Q’s own flat. Hell, he didn’t even know that Bond’s aware of where he lives. 

No one (save for M and Eve and possibly Tanner) is supposed to know his address, that’s the point of him being Q. Trust Bond to circumvent that. 

Q examines the sleeping double-oh on his sofa, and finds that one of Bond’s hands is buried on Millie’s long white fur. She’s still purring away happily, and looks perfectly comfortable on her perch. 

“Millie-darling, why is Bond in our flat, hmm?” Q asks her, quietly amused. “Did he break in, or did you offer him assistance?” 

Millie gives him an absent-minded little ’mrr’ as a reply, which makes Q nod wisely. “I see,” he says and reluctantly stops himself from petting her. It doesn’t seem right, what with Bond asleep and unable to see what is happening around him. 

Not to mention his infamous double-oh instincts. Q really doesn’t want to have those turned on him by accidentally waking Bond up from what looks like deep sleep. 

Even if it is his flat and Bond is the unexpected (though not necessarily unwanted) guest. 

Deciding to leave Bond where he is, Q turns off the lights and gets back to the kitchen for some food before bed. He figures that letting Bond sleep on his sofa for the night is simply good manners, seeing as he’s already here and isn’t causing any trouble for once. 

Besides, Millie seems to like him just fine, and Q trusts her judgment more than that of almost any human. 

Three cats follow him to the kitchen, eager for some snacks. Only Millie remains where she’s at, having made herself comfortable on top of Bond and ready for sleep, too. 

Q feeds both himself and the cats and eventually turns in as well. But not before one last look at the sleeping beauties on his sofa, followed by a quickly snapped photo for completely altruistic purposes. (Read: proof for Eve.) 

*

When Q wakes up in the morning, Millie is asleep next to his pillow and all traces of Bond are gone. 

Chapter Text

Q sees Bond at Six when the agent comes to him to be de-kitted later that day. They don’t discuss what happened, but Q notices Bond watching him more closely during the banter about missing and broken equipment and double-oh agents that really ought to know better. 

Well, he does the same to Bond, so he really can’t complain. 

Bond stays at Q Branch after they’re done, too, much to Q’s confusion. He solves that particular dilemma by giving the man a new gun to test and strict orders to record his progress so that they can get something useful out of him for a change. (R’s words, not his, but they can all tell she’s not completely serious.) 

Bond simply gives her a look and says something dry about her snarkiness, but there’s a faint smile on his lips when his eyes find Q’s. All in all, Q’s feeling confused about it all, and relieved when Bond finally leaves to play with his new toy. 

“That was interesting,” R comments lightly. 

“Tell me about it,” Q murmurs. “Anyway, about that test we had Alice run yesterday…” 

*

It takes about a month or so until Q, once again returning from a long day at the office, comes home to no cats to greet him on the door. Bond should still be on his way to London, but Q has a feeling that he knows what’s waiting for him on the sofa again. 

It’s not like Bond hasn’t ever subverted the expectations of reality—and possibly even the very laws of physics themselves—when it comes to his missions. And besides, he’s already spent a night on Q’s sofa once, it’s very much on brand for Bond Logic™ to assume that it’s fine for him to do it again. 

He’s not even wrong about it, really, which makes the issue moot anyway. 

Still, Q calls out the names of his kitties all the same, just to see if they’re more used to Bond’s presence now (the way Q is, and he’s not even shocked at himself for how natural Bond being in his flat feels anymore, not after all the time Bond keeps spending in Q Branch) and would like to come and greet him after a long day of absence.

It turns out they’re not, not even Minty who regularly treats Q’s lap as her personal property and only grudgingly shares it with her sisters. 

Q lets out an amused huff and quietly makes his way to the living room, where he indeed spies Bond fast asleep on the sofa. Millie sleeps curled up on his upper chest, almost close enough to suffocate him with her floof, and Minty, to Q’s mild surprise, has claimed half of his pillow as her own. 

Jasmine and Chai, then again, are on the floor, neither of them asleep but instead staring at Bond and his two fluffy adornments with wide unblinking eyes. 

“Here you are, my darlings,” Q murmurs as he comes to a stop behind them. “And more importantly, here he is. Again.” 

Hearing his voice, Jasmine turns her head to look at him. She chirps at him, a long line of hurried noises that end in a questioning little mew. 

“Oh, yes, I can see that,” Q says, perfectly serious. “He’s really here again, isn’t he?” 

Jasmine meows again, sounding less agitated and more like a sibling ratting out another sibling, while Chai keeps staring at Bond. Q tries his best to hide his amusement and reaches out a hand to scratch under her chin. 

“Yes, my dear, I’m perfectly fine with him being here,” he tells her, and he’d have continued on if there weren’t movement from the sofa. 

Disturbed by the noise, Millie raises her head and gives them a long stare, her unimpressedness fairly oozing out of her every pore. When she deems them sufficiently cowed, she yawns widely, licks at her right paw, and then just goes right back to sleep. 

Amused, Q huffs out a quiet laugh. “Hint taken, your majesty,” he says. “We’ll just go to the kitchen for some snacks.” 

Though before he leaves, Jasmine and Chai hot on his heels, Q takes the blanket from the armchair and drapes it lightly over Bond’s prone form. The nights are getting chillier and he’d rather his agent didn’t catch a cold. What sort of host would he be, otherwise? 

(He also snaps another photo for Eve, and for himself.) 

*

When morning comes, Q finds the cats sleeping in his bed and the blanket neatly folded on top of the armchair. Bond, again, is nowhere to be seen, but Q really hadn’t expected any different. 

Chapter Text

Q sees Bond again in Q Branch, right after his debrief with M. He’s been expecting Bond to make an appearance sooner or later, and therefore notices him even before R covertly nudges him and says something about lost ducklings, more than a hint of amusement in her tone. 

That better not be a reference to how Bond has a habit of appearing before them more or less empty handed, Q thinks, then turns his attention back to Bond and the unerring way the man is heading straight towards him. 

“007,” he greets him. “Fancy seeing you here so early.” 

“Well, I told M I had places to be,” Bond says with a straight face. 

“And that worked?” Q shakes his head slightly. “Let’s see it, then.” He looks at Bond expectantly. 

Bond looks back at him, but he does hand out his kit to him. Q opens it and raises an eyebrow at the unexpected sight of fully functional—if a little singed around the edges—set of earpiece, gun, radio and memory stick. “This is almost impressive,” he comments as he picks up one item after another and hands them out to R and another minion at the ready. 

“Almost?” Bond echoes, amused. 

“I seem to remember having given you a pair of exploding cuff links, too,” Q says. “And I was under the impression that you only used one of them.” 

“Well, what can I say? I met some people who needed a little extra persuasion,” Bond tells him. 

“Of course you did.” 

There’s a small smile on Bond’s lips now. “Well, I did get you something special in exchange. It’s with M now, along with the intel, but you should be receiving it no later than after noon.” 

“Oh? I shall be looking forward to it, then,” Q says, curious. 

“And then there’s this, of course,” Bond continues and offers Q a smallish package, neatly wrapped with a thin piece of golden cloth. 

Q blinks but accepts the package. It’s not outside of the realm of possibilities for Bond to bring him souvenirs from his missions, mostly little trinkets and packages of tea, but so far such mystery has been unheard of. “Thank you?” 

“Don’t look so suspicious, Q, it doesn’t explode,” Bond tells him amusedly. 

“So you say now,” Q mutters, loud enough to make Bond chuckle, and has R take it to his office. He’ll open it a bit later, in private, just in case. 

After, he has Bond follow one of his minions who is in need of assistance, with the aim of getting something useful out of Bond’s habit of hanging around Q Branch. 

*

After a week and a half, Q returns home late and is again faced with zero cats upon opening the door. He blinks but then makes his way straight to the living room and to Bond asleep on his sofa. He’s covered with both the blanket and three cats, with Jasmine the sole exception. She is curled up on the armchair, eyes half open as she stares at Bond and her sisters. 

Q looks at the scene before him and smiles, then gets out his mobile and takes a photo of the adorable sight. Moneypenny is so going to lose their wager, and here’s the living—or sleeping, as the case may be—proof. Neither of them bet on Jasmine joining her sisters yet, but Moneypenny didn’t think Chai would do it either. Q, then again, did. 

Jasmine meows at him from her spot on the armchair, just a single quiet meow. She sounds so indecisive that Q can only melt and kneel down by her so he can properly pet her. 

“My darling, it’s okay to take it slow,” he murmurs against her silky fur. “You don’t have to do everything your sisters are doing.” 

Jasmine begins to purr, and Q decides to take it as a positive sign. “Why don’t we go get some treats from the kitchen, yes?” he whispers, scratching behind one of her dainty ears. 

Jasmine perks up and eagerly sits up, jumping down and heading towards the kitchen, chirping excitedly as she goes. Q smiles at her enthusiasm and sets about following her, though not before one last look at the sofa. 

*

Q wakes up in the morning with all cats as well as the blanket accounted for, and the only sign of Bond having ever been there is the blanket folded on top of the sofa and not the armchair. 

Chapter Text

Q expects Bond to come see him later that day, and he’s not disappointed. Bond appears like clockwork well before noon, right after his debrief with M. (Moneypenny sent him a text about it right after Bond had left, so Q had fair warning. Not that he needed it, but he appreciates the gesture nevertheless.) 

“Hello Q, I’ve missed you,” Bond tells him when he sees him, and Q rolls his eyes good-naturedly. 

“You were only gone for three days, that’s categorically impossible,” he points out and ignores the smirks from his minions. 

”Oh but it’s not,” Bond smiles. 

Q just looks at him. “Why don’t we focus on your kit?” he suggests, hoping to change the subject into something less awkward while they’re in the midst of his minions. And R, but R’s a lot more discreet, so Q doesn’t mind as much if she hears Bond’s flirting. 

“Your wish is my command,” Bond says agreeably, and completely ignores Q’s muttered, “If only that were so.” Instead, he presents Q with his gun and earpiece. 

“And the radio?” Q asks, although he’s pretty sure it’s a lost cause. 

“I’m afraid that’s on the bottom of the Rhine right now,” Bond says, and to his credit, he does sound somewhat contrite. 

“Well, at least it’s not your gun,” Q says. He’s not exactly annoyed about it, either, for it’s a lot less complicated (not to mention a lot less expensive) to replace than a palm-print coded firearm. He has one of his minions take the earpiece for inspection and keeps the gun to deal with it himself. 

“Well then, Bond,” he says, “it seems like everything is in order. And I believe you have some downtime to look forward to next.” 

“I do,” Bond nods, and follows him to his office as though it’s the most natural thing to do. Recently, it pretty much has been for him, so Q says nothing about it. 

“Yet I see you’re still here,” he observes instead. “Any particular reason?” 

“I haven’t yet given you this,” Bond replies and gives him a small package. 

Q accepts it with a quiet thanks. “You really don’t need to bring me things from your missions,” he tells Bond. “One might even wonder where you find the time to purchase anything when you’re supposed to be focusing on other, more important things,” he adds, looking at the man from beneath his lashes. 

Bond just smiles. “I multitask.” 

“Of course you do,” Q says. He then busies himself with carefully opening the package. Last time Bond brought him a cute cat-themed keychain, and he expects something similar now. What he finds, however, is a pair of delicate gold cuff links, with an engraved letter Q on each of them. 

“Oh,” he breathes. “These are beautiful.” 

“As are you,” Bond murmurs. 

Q flushes and tries his best to ignore the words, unsure of how to respond to them. Instead, he thanks Bond again and makes a show of carefully repacking the cuff links and putting them away for safekeeping. All the while he can feel Bond’s eyes on him, and he wracks his brain to think of something to say.

In the end, Bond solves it for him. “I would be happy to help, if there’s anything you need assistance with around here.”

“You just want early access to new equipment,” Q chides playfully, glad for the subject change.

“That, too,” Bond agrees easily. 

“In that case, how would you feel about testing something that I’ve been designing to possibly replace your Walther?” Q asks. Upon seeing Bond’s expression, he hurries to add, “Or if not to replace it, perhaps to be used alongside it. I could use your opinions.” 

“Lead the way, Quartermaster,” Bond says benevolently, so Q does. 

*

In two weeks, during which a significant amount of time has been spent in Bond’s company (either physically in Six or on the comms), Q once again comes home to a seemingly empty and dark flat. This time, though, he has a very good idea of what is happening, so he heads straight to the living room. 

Bond is there, as he’d predicted, asleep on the sofa under a blanket and all four cats. Q takes in the adorable sight: Millie is on her favourite spot on top of Bond’s upper chest, her floof half covering his face; Minty and Chai are curled up together by his legs; and sweet Jasmine rests next to Bond’s side, her head against the palm of his hand as though they’ve fallen asleep mid-chin scratch. 

Q reaches for his mobile and takes several photos from different angles. There’s a gentle smile on his face and he knows that the fact that all four cats have accepted Bond like that means something. 

What that something is, only time will tell, but Q has a good feeling about it. 

“Good night, my darlings,” he murmurs softly to the cats, before making his way to the kitchen for a snack before bed. 

Even though it means that he’s going to be sleeping alone that night, what with the cats all sleeping on Bond, Q can’t find it in himself to mind. After all, it’s Bond, who he can’t help but have a soft spot for. 

*

Q wakes up in the morning with the cats in his bed and Bond nowhere in sight. In the kitchen, however, there’s a stack of still steaming pancakes and a brand new bottle of maple syrup on the table, alongside a selection of quality teas and chocolates. 

Q blinks as he takes in the unfamiliar sight: Bond has made him breakfast. A very tasty breakfast by the looks of it, too. The maple syrup has to be a souvenir from his mission, just like the teas and chocolates, and Q feels touched that Bond thinks about him enough to do all this. 

He gives the cats their food and makes himself a cup of tea then sits down to enjoy his breakfast.

Chapter Text

Q waits for Bond to appear all morning. He may or may not be slightly distracted, glancing at the doors whenever someone steps through them, but as long as no one notices—or in R’s case, pretends not to notice—there’s no proof of such a thing to be found anywhere. 

Sometimes Q wonders if he should promote R for her trouble. But then he remembers that there isn’t anything in his branch for her to be promoted to, unless one counts the position of the Quartermaster, and Q’s pretty well attached to that, thank you kindly. 

Besides, that would mean she would be the one to deal with the double-oh division, and Q’s not willing to inflict Bond on anyone, let alone her. 

(There’s also Bond himself to consider, and with the risk of appearing conceited, Q has a feeling that the man would find such an arrangement quite unacceptable.) 

There is always the position of M, once Mallory retires, though. But R has told him quite emphatically that she’s perfectly happy where she is.

Either way, when Bond finally arrives it’s R who discreetly nudges Q on the shoulder to bring it to his attention. Q, who’d been talking with Jace about a bit of truly fascinating code he’s currently working on, looks up to find Bond making his way to where he stands. 

“Good afternoon, Q,” is what Bond greets him with. 

“Is it, though?” Q asks. “Or are you a harbinger of bad tidings, instead?” 

Q doesn’t want everyone to know that Bond has been sleeping on his sofa, so instead of thanking the man for the breakfast he defaults to their regular banter. He’ll do it in the privacy of his office afterwards, he decides. 

Bond looks at him with his famous “Who, me?” expression firmly in place. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Q huffs. “Let’s see your kit, then.” 

Bond obediently offers him his kit, and Q raises an eyebrow when he sees every piece accounted for and in adequate condition. 

“Miracles do happen,” R comments, sounding only marginally surprised. Q has to hand it to her, she can keep a straight face exceptionally well. 

“Well,” Q says after inspecting each item and handing them off to his minions to be catalogued, “good work, Bond. We’ll make a diligent agent of you yet.” 

Ever the gentleman, Bond refrains from commenting on that. Instead, he presents Q with yet another wrapped package, this time bigger than the last. 

“Thank you, but as I’ve said before, you really don’t need to bring me anything,” Q says. He can’t help being curious about it, though. 

“But I want to,” Bond replies. He watches Q closely when he unwraps the package and takes out an adorable moose plush toy, complete with a maple leaf jumper and a hat. 

There are some appreciative murmurs among the general population, and Q can’t help but agree. The moose certainly is cute. “It’s really nice,” he tells Bond sincerely. “I shall keep it in my office, I should think.” He starts making his way to said office and, as expected, Bond follows. 

“You might want to think of a name for him,” Bond points out. “If he’s to become a Q Branch mascot.” 

Q gives him a politely confused look. “He doesn’t have a name already?”

“Oh, that’s your job as his new owner,” Bond tells him. “I wouldn’t want to take that away from you.” 

“I shall give it some thought, then,” Q says. He puts the package down on his desk for the time being, and only then realises that it’s not empty. Curious, he puts a hand into it and comes back with what looks like a jewellery box. 

Bond is of no help, he just gives Q an expectant look, so Q knows that he’ll have to open it. At least it’s bigger than a ring box, so he knows what to expect. Or not expect, as the case may be. 

What’s inside the box turns out to be an amethyst bracelet. It looks elegant and expensive when Q picks it up, and he admires the craftsmanship. It’s made of sterling silver and the amethysts are exquisitely cut.  

”It’s beautiful,” Q says softly. 

Bond takes the bracelet from him. “May I?” 

Q nods, and watches as Bond fastens the bracelet around his left wrist. He doesn’t let go right away, though, but brings Q’s hand closer and presses a gentle little kiss on his fingers. Only then does he let go. 

Q flushes, unsure of how to react. 

“It suits you,” Bond concludes. 

“Bond…” Q says, but lets the sentence trail off. He really doesn’t know what to say, wondering if this can still be considered as Bond’s regular brand of flirting, or whether it’s something deeper, more meaningful. 

He knows what he hopes for, but it’s anyone’s guess if Bond is really on the same page as him. Although there is the fact that lately, after a mission, Bond has been spending his first night in London soil on Q’s sofa, surrounded by Q’s cats.

And the thing is, well, by now it’s become assumed to not discuss the arrangement with Bond when the agent is around. It’s almost as though by not saying anything after the very first night, Q has doomed himself to eternally holding his peace, no matter how curious he might be about Bond’s reasons. The longer it takes the harder it feels for him to even think about broaching the subject. 

In short, Q has well and truly jinxed himself. 

He looks up at Bond and finds the man already looking at him. Q holds his breath, not sure what exactly he expects to happen, and watches as Bond’s lips part, ready to speak…

The tension is broken by a light knock on the door and R opening it to tell them that Q’s presence is required. 

Q nods and meticulously hides his new bracelet underneath the sleeve of his cardigan—not because he doesn’t want it to be seen, but because he wants to keep it to himself just for a little while—then makes his way to the door. Bond follows him, and Q’s intensely aware of the man’s presence behind him. 

Outside of his office everything feels lighter somehow. Bond keeps a respectable distance, though Q can feel his eyes on his person most of the time. Eventually, however, he’s roped into helping one of the minions with an experiment that involves more explosions than is probably healthy, even for a double-oh. 

It’s only after Bond is gone that Q realises he never did thank him for the breakfast.

*

The next time Q comes home late while Bond has been away on a mission, he knows exactly where the agent is. 

Bond as much as told him himself when, before removing the comms for boarding his flight back to London, he’d finished with, “See you soon, Q.” So Q is wholly unsurprised at finding him asleep on the sofa under the blanket he’s starting to think of as Bond’s blanket, and the cats in their favoured positions on top of and next to him. 

Q stands there for a moment, just admiring the adorable sight. “Sweet dreams to you too,” he eventually murmurs before heading to bed himself. 

*

In the morning, Q wakes up to only Jasmine sleeping by his feet. Curiously he gets up and wanders to the bathroom and eventually the kitchen, where he comes face to face with Bond cooking bacon and eggs on the stove and the rest of the cats all watching him with avid eagerness, meowing and chirping at him at intervals. 

“Good morning, Q,” Bond greets him cheerfully. 

“Good morning,” Q says, suddenly more than aware of only wearing his favourite sushi pyjamas. Bond, then again, has put on his trousers, but his shirt is mostly unbuttoned and the suit jacket nowhere to be seen. 

“Sit down, breakfast is almost done,” Bond continues, indicating at the table where he’s set plates and cutlery ready for two. There’s also a steaming pot of tea, a plateful of golden toast, a bowl of fresh strawberries, and a jar of orange marmalade. 

Q does as he’s told, immediately getting a cat on his lap. “This looks good,” he comments, even as he scratches the cat—Chai, who begins to purr—behind her inky ears. “Though I don’t remember having strawberries, or marmalade.” He’s not so sure about bacon, either, busy at work as he has been lately. 

“I did a little detour last night,” Bond explains. He then expertly plates the bacon and the eggs and sits down to eat next to Q. Millie sees her chance and jumps into Bond’s lap, chirping. “Hello there, little one,” he says and pets her. 

“That’s Chamomile, or Millie for short,” Q tells Bond, for he suddenly realises that Bond probably doesn’t even know the cats’ names. 

“Nice to officially meet you, Millie,” Bond smiles. 

“The one sitting by your feet and ogling at your bacon is Minty. And on my lap there’s Chai,” Q continues. “Jasmine is probably still asleep in my bed.” 

As though hearing her name, Jasmine suddenly appears by the doorway. She meows loudly and pads in the room, as if to announce her arrival and her annoyance that no one bothered to wake her up, too. 

“Well hello there, little Jasmine,” Bond tells her softly. She meows back at him and moves straight to him, her green eyes wide and unblinking. 

“She wants you to give her treats,” Q says. “They all do. But it’s not time for that until after breakfast, and they’re aware of that.” 

Bond smiles. “You heard your… dad? Or what do you call yourself?” he turns to ask Q. 

“Daddy, actually,” Q admits. “Though I usually just talk to them like they’re tiny humans. They understand a lot.” He then takes a bite of his breakfast. “This is good.” 

Bond starts to eat as well. “I wanted to thank you for letting me sleep on your sofa,” he says. 

Overlooking for the time being that Bond had never actually asked him, Q shrugs delicately. ”I don’t pretend to know why you didn’t want to go home,” he says. “But I did think that maybe having cats to sleep on you was helpful somehow.” 

“It has been nice, yes,” Bond replies. “The only way it would’ve been nicer is if you were there as well.”

“Well,” Q says after a small pause, “you never asked me to.” He looks at the man from behind messy curls and a forkful of eggs, and holds his breath. 

“Perhaps next time I will,” Bond says, eyes twinkling. 

Q smiles and finds himself hoping that Bond really does, for he already knows what his answer will be.

Chapter Text

Q leaves for home earlier than before, though still at a time that would be considered late by pretty much anyone else. He did his best to hurry, however, because he knew he’d have company at home waiting for him. 

When he’s finally home, Q heads straight into the bedroom. Bond is already there, leaning against the headboard and reading a book, with the cats all curled up around him. He’s shirtless, the blankets pooling around his waist, and Q spends some moments simply admiring the view. 

Bond interrupts him by looking up at him. “Welcome home, Q,” he says, a small smile on his lips. 

“Isn’t that my line?” Q asks, amused. 

Bond’s shrug is both elegant and evocative. “Are you going to join us?” 

Q smiles. “Of course.” He then begins to undress, carefully folding his clothes and putting them away, and puts on his pyjamas. He is well aware of the way Bond’s eyes follow his every move. The cats have also one by one raised their heads and are now staring at him with wide eyes. It feels like he’s putting on a show, when in reality he’s just undressing and redressing. 

Jasmine chirps at him, Millie and Minty lazily joining in. Chai is the only silent one; instead, she starts to wash her face. 

“Yes, my darlings, I am coming,” Q says and gets on the bed and underneath the covers next to Bond, giving the kitties some pets and ear scratches while he’s at it. “Did you have a nice flight?” 

“It was fine,” Bond replies, putting his book on the bedside table. “I missed you and your voice in my ear though.”

“I’m here now,” Q murmurs. He leans against Bond and rests his head on the man’s chest. “The cats missed you, too,” he adds. 

“And I missed them,” Bond says and nuzzles at Q’s hair. “I brought them some toys and treats.” 

“I’m sure they loved them.” 

Bond chuckles. “They do. We had a lovely time playing with the toys. And I only gave them a couple of treats each.” 

“You’re learning,” Q says, hiding his grin into one of Bond’s pecs. “Millie and Jasmine can’t coerce you into giving them extras again.”

Bond huffs, amused. “You little menace,” he says affectionately, and then gently tilts Q’s face up for a kiss. Q accepts the kiss happily and thinks that here, right now, surrounded by the cats and being kissed by his lover, is exactly where he wants to be.