James didn't speak again for two days.

The three men took up residence in the quartermaster's small flat. As crowded as it made things, Q was glad to have Alec there. He had seen James at his worst, and knew better what to be on the lookout for. So when Q was worried about the fact that James didn't eat or drink anything but expensive single malt for 48 hours, Alec just shook his head at him and told him not to worry.

With the exception of a quick shower when they first arrived James didn't move from the lounge chair in the living area except to relieve himself, and crack open a new bottle. Q placed plates with small bite size snacks beside him, but they all ended up in the bin, untouched.

On the third day James finally spoke, if only to try to scare Q off. First he tried to appeal to Q's sense of self preservation, "Dating me is not safe. What if someone comes after me but gets you instead? I won't always be around to protect you?" Q actually laughed.

Next he tried cruelty, "Why would you ever think I would be interested in a scrawny little boffin like you. You're barely out of nappies. You were nothing more than a mission fling for me. Q just ignored him, not taking the bait. He knew what James was trying to do, and he wasn't going to let James run him off that easily.

James eventually resorted to the truth; he was afraid for Q. "No one lives happily ever after once I make an appearance in their life. It's for your own good just to walk away now."

Q set a plate of food down in James' lap, looked him straight in the eye and spoke, "I'm not going anywhere." He said it slowly and with a calm resolve even James had to respect.

"Opezdol!" Alec smacked his friend on the back of the head to add emphasis to the insult, "That boy isn't going to be scared off by you. He is a lot tougher than you give him credit for, you know." James looks at his friend in surprise, not realizing till now just how close the two other men had become in his absence. "Someone tries to go after our dear quartermaster and it would be about as wise as cornering a feral cat. That 'scrawny little boffin' will outlive both of us. So stop being an ass to him or I'll shoot you myself."

James smiled at the obvious respect Q had earned from Alec. If his oldest pal thought Q could handle himself, James would have to believe him. Even though he still had a few reservations about it, James had to admit he liked having Q there for him.

Once James had finally started to come back from where ever his recent trauma had sent his subconscious running too, everyone breathed a large sigh of relief. He still wasn't sleeping well. Even with Q beside him he had trouble shaking the night terrors that plagued his unconscious mind. They were slowly becoming less frequent though as the days passed.

After a week and a half the most wondrous thing happened. James was sitting at the dinner room table with his third glass of scotch, watching Q in the kitchen. Q was making the three of them dinner, or trying to at least, when he accidently spilt a large container of whole pepper corns. He had been reaching for the newly refilled pepper mill when he bumped the still open, economy size, plastic bottle, sending it tumbling to the floor. His clumsy grab for it, to keep it from falling, resulted in nothing more than the entire contents pouring out onto the tiles, and then bouncing and rolling in every direction. Q also managed to flip the pot of sauce he had been trying to season off the stove and right into the sink.

James laughed. He laughed loudly and with true mirth, he couldn't contain himself. He was still grinning like an idiot and wiping the tears from his eyes as he joined Q, on hands and knees, to try and wrangle all the rolling peppercorns together. It was all Q and Alec could do to keep from staring at him.

Alec left the next day, content that his dear friend was well on his way to a full recovery. Alec knew that James was in good hands with Q, so when the mission in Odessa came up he didn't hesitate to get back into the field.

James walked through the door and took in the office before him. It was nothing like M's office had been. Her office had been cold with a wall of glass behind her, looking out at a bleak cityscape view. It had been almost oppressively bleak and almost completely lacking in anything personal, except for that dog. That bloody dog, which even now was waiting in a box to go home with him.

No, this office was much different. The leather and warm wood shelves stacked with books. The room was almost welcoming in its richness. James hoped it spoke of the person residing behind the desk, but at the same time his missed her office. He still missed that bitch, more than he cared to talk about.

"How's the arm sir?" James walked towards the desk as Mallory look up from the file in his hands.

"What? Oh it's fine. It'll get better." Mallory stood to properly greet the agent who was now standing on the other side of his desk. "All pretty shocking for someone not used to field work."

The men exchanged very slight grins at the personal jab Mallory made before his face became serious again. "So 007", he lifted up a file only to drop it on the desk in front of James, "lots to be done. Are you ready to get back to work?"

James stood there for a moment, thinking about all the things that field work meant. The running, the injures, the cold nights in some hovel in the back end of nowhere, but also the excitement of the chase, the nights in posh hotels and most of all, Q. He would have Q in his ear through all of it. As long as he had Q there, he was ready to take on the world. "With pleasure, M. With pleasure."