[Fic] too broken to fix
Fandom: James Bond
Characters: James Bond, Q, Eve Moneypenny
Pairing: Q/Bond
Rating: G
Warnings: Amnesia/memory loss.
Word count: c.1040
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: For my angst bingo prompt 'waking up in bed alone'. A sequel to my fic it's not meant to be personal.
***
Q's used to waking up alone. He and Bond have always been workaholics, Q staying at HQ late into the night and Bond away on missions half the time. They've gotten used to not being around each other all the time, but they take advantage of it when they can be.
As soon as he wakes, Q can't help the way that his thoughts instantly jump to a countdown of the days until Bond will be home again, when they'll both have a day to themselves. When they can share a sleepy together, waking up slowly with Bond draped all over Q. Q lets him, because it's so rare that they can have this, and if Q's really honest, he misses how tactile Bond is when he's away, and soaks in the feeling of Bond's skin on his whenever he can.
He wakes up and thinks of how long it will be until he can have that again, and then he remembers that he never will.
Perhaps Q could eventually come to terms with that, maybe he could get past that loss -- he's always known that it's a possibility, maybe even an eventuality, their line of work is not the safest, after all -- but he never prepared himself for the possibility that he would see Bond every day but not be able to touch. That he would hold memories of weeks and months today that he shares with no one now. They are his alone, and he despises it.
Part of Bond's training is spending time in Q branch relearning the things he needs to know. He's not allowed in the field yet, it will be a long time until he is, and Q is all too aware of that fact, because it seems like he's in Q branch all the time, and it's torture.
This Bond is polite and quietly curious, almost shy and uncertain as he asks Q about his work, what they're developing, how things run. He's nothing like the Bond that Q knew, and it shows. Q is awkward and stiff around him, showing him the ropes but never talking to him like he did before, never touching him.
It confuses Bond, Q can tell, but he doesn't try to elaborate, just gives him the cold shoulder -- to the disapproval of Eve -- and does what he has to, but nothing more.
Still, Bond persists and doesn't change his own attitude, and Q expected to him to give up, but apparently that's one skill that Bond can't forget. If anything, Bond starts trying even harder, and Q finds that he's the one that's confused.
It takes a week for Eve to drag him away from his work in the middle of the day for a break, despite all of Q's protests.
"He's just trying to be your friend," she reprimands him over a cup of tea. Eve gives him a pointed look. "Like you told him you were."
"It's not him," Q says, and he doesn't know why she can't understand this. "It's not him."
"I know," Eve says, but she doesn't. "He's not the only one who feels alone right now, Q. He's looking for someone that can explain what he's lost to him. And you're the only one who can. Not me, not M. You."
Bond's never been one for predictability, and the same is true even now. Even when he's hardly recognizable to anyone who really knew Bond before, he still manages to surprise them all.
"Call me James," Bond says, one day when Q's about to start teaching him the basics of hacking. "Nobody calls me that."
It's true, he's always been Bond or 007, even to Q. There's nothing especial about it, that's just who he was, how everyone always thought of him.
"James," Q says, and thinks that maybe he can do this.
Q and Bond were -- something, something Q still can't put into words. They were never friends, exactly, they were much more than that, but Q thinks that he and James might be. He doesn't realize it while it's happening, but suddenly they're going for lunch a few times a week and he's trying harder to help James out with his training. It's nothing like what he and Bond were, and it helps.
Until they're laughing about something that one of the graduates has done and Q reaches out automatically. He freezes with his fingers an inch above James' forearm and stops laughing abruptly, James own laughter fading away when he sees the stricken look on Q's face. Q stands up and almost knocks his half-full cup of tea over fumbling for some change, dropping it on the table before walking away, leaving James staring after him in confusion.
Q retreats again, reverts back to the way it was when Bond first came back, when he looked at him with no understanding or recognition in his eyes. He feels a little guilty about leaving James like that, with no explanations, but he'd been fooling himself to think that he could do this.
Eve tries to talk to him again, but it doesn't work this time, Q just buries himself in his work and deals with James when he has to, but doesn't try and resolve anything. It only leads to disappointment, trying to put something back together when it's too broken to fix, and Q won't do that again, he won't, he can't.
"I didn't know you were coming by today," Q says a week later, when James stops by Q branch on a day that he doesn't have training with him.
"I wasn't," James replies. "I just wanted to give you this."
He holds up a bright blue tie, letting it unfold and fall onto Q's desk. Q's fingers pause on his keyboard, but he doesn't look up.
"I thought you might want it back," James says, and neither of them says anything for a minute. "This is why, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Q says carefully, but there's still a tremor in his voice. "But I think you knew that."
"Maybe I did," James says, "but that wasn't what mattered to me."
He drops the tie on Q's desk and leaves Q shaking.
Characters: James Bond, Q, Eve Moneypenny
Pairing: Q/Bond
Rating: G
Warnings: Amnesia/memory loss.
Word count: c.1040
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: For my angst bingo prompt 'waking up in bed alone'. A sequel to my fic it's not meant to be personal.
***
Q's used to waking up alone. He and Bond have always been workaholics, Q staying at HQ late into the night and Bond away on missions half the time. They've gotten used to not being around each other all the time, but they take advantage of it when they can be.
As soon as he wakes, Q can't help the way that his thoughts instantly jump to a countdown of the days until Bond will be home again, when they'll both have a day to themselves. When they can share a sleepy together, waking up slowly with Bond draped all over Q. Q lets him, because it's so rare that they can have this, and if Q's really honest, he misses how tactile Bond is when he's away, and soaks in the feeling of Bond's skin on his whenever he can.
He wakes up and thinks of how long it will be until he can have that again, and then he remembers that he never will.
Perhaps Q could eventually come to terms with that, maybe he could get past that loss -- he's always known that it's a possibility, maybe even an eventuality, their line of work is not the safest, after all -- but he never prepared himself for the possibility that he would see Bond every day but not be able to touch. That he would hold memories of weeks and months today that he shares with no one now. They are his alone, and he despises it.
Part of Bond's training is spending time in Q branch relearning the things he needs to know. He's not allowed in the field yet, it will be a long time until he is, and Q is all too aware of that fact, because it seems like he's in Q branch all the time, and it's torture.
This Bond is polite and quietly curious, almost shy and uncertain as he asks Q about his work, what they're developing, how things run. He's nothing like the Bond that Q knew, and it shows. Q is awkward and stiff around him, showing him the ropes but never talking to him like he did before, never touching him.
It confuses Bond, Q can tell, but he doesn't try to elaborate, just gives him the cold shoulder -- to the disapproval of Eve -- and does what he has to, but nothing more.
Still, Bond persists and doesn't change his own attitude, and Q expected to him to give up, but apparently that's one skill that Bond can't forget. If anything, Bond starts trying even harder, and Q finds that he's the one that's confused.
It takes a week for Eve to drag him away from his work in the middle of the day for a break, despite all of Q's protests.
"He's just trying to be your friend," she reprimands him over a cup of tea. Eve gives him a pointed look. "Like you told him you were."
"It's not him," Q says, and he doesn't know why she can't understand this. "It's not him."
"I know," Eve says, but she doesn't. "He's not the only one who feels alone right now, Q. He's looking for someone that can explain what he's lost to him. And you're the only one who can. Not me, not M. You."
Bond's never been one for predictability, and the same is true even now. Even when he's hardly recognizable to anyone who really knew Bond before, he still manages to surprise them all.
"Call me James," Bond says, one day when Q's about to start teaching him the basics of hacking. "Nobody calls me that."
It's true, he's always been Bond or 007, even to Q. There's nothing especial about it, that's just who he was, how everyone always thought of him.
"James," Q says, and thinks that maybe he can do this.
Q and Bond were -- something, something Q still can't put into words. They were never friends, exactly, they were much more than that, but Q thinks that he and James might be. He doesn't realize it while it's happening, but suddenly they're going for lunch a few times a week and he's trying harder to help James out with his training. It's nothing like what he and Bond were, and it helps.
Until they're laughing about something that one of the graduates has done and Q reaches out automatically. He freezes with his fingers an inch above James' forearm and stops laughing abruptly, James own laughter fading away when he sees the stricken look on Q's face. Q stands up and almost knocks his half-full cup of tea over fumbling for some change, dropping it on the table before walking away, leaving James staring after him in confusion.
Q retreats again, reverts back to the way it was when Bond first came back, when he looked at him with no understanding or recognition in his eyes. He feels a little guilty about leaving James like that, with no explanations, but he'd been fooling himself to think that he could do this.
Eve tries to talk to him again, but it doesn't work this time, Q just buries himself in his work and deals with James when he has to, but doesn't try and resolve anything. It only leads to disappointment, trying to put something back together when it's too broken to fix, and Q won't do that again, he won't, he can't.
"I didn't know you were coming by today," Q says a week later, when James stops by Q branch on a day that he doesn't have training with him.
"I wasn't," James replies. "I just wanted to give you this."
He holds up a bright blue tie, letting it unfold and fall onto Q's desk. Q's fingers pause on his keyboard, but he doesn't look up.
"I thought you might want it back," James says, and neither of them says anything for a minute. "This is why, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Q says carefully, but there's still a tremor in his voice. "But I think you knew that."
"Maybe I did," James says, "but that wasn't what mattered to me."
He drops the tie on Q's desk and leaves Q shaking.