Q studiously avoided both James and Alec and, fortunately, he did not come in contact with them during the following week. He threw himself into his work, welcoming the distraction. The disappearance into unfeeling numbers and components was soothing, and he found his mind blissfully devoid of any painful musings. If he was a little biting with his minions, or rather snippy to the agents whose ears he barked into, well, that was to be expected.

Alec was the first to make an appearance in Q-branch. He was off again, this time on a solo mission. M must have heard about their row as, clearly, he and James weren't being sent off together. If they ever would be again. Q felt a twinge of guilt in that his love life was affecting national security. In a place where secrets abounded, he knew he couldn't be (and wasn't) trusted and it was a disheartening feeling. At least he hadn't been pulled into M's office for a scolding or worse. It appeared that Alec had remained tight-lipped, and Q was thankful for that, at least.

Alec was ever professional as he walked through the doors. Though he hid it well, Q could see the anger simmering just under the surface. It was in the almost imperceptible razor-sharp edge to his voice and the slight narrowing of the eyes that he tried to lighten with a half-smile that didn't quite sit right. Q forced himself to return the smile, knowing it looked more like a grimace.

"Good evening, Quartermaster," Alec said tersely. The venom was well-concealed, but it was there.

Q fought the urge to squirm, remembering the way Alec had spat his title at James all too recently.

"006," Q answered softly, distinctly not looking Alec in the eye. He fiddled with some wiring before setting it down, his palms growing sweaty. He wiped them on his dark cardigan and stood up to grasp an envelope and a small case on his desk. "I've your things here. Travel documents. New sidearm. Upgraded comm system." Q hurried through the brief, eager to end the torment and go back to feeling numb. He dropped the items into Alec's hands, trying to avoid touching his skin. Alec's eyes bore into him while Q cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I've… I'm having Sarah be your handler on this mission. You should speak with her on your way out." Q nodded to the brunette technician seated at a table on his left.

Alec gave him a piercing look but said nothing, seeming to accept the change. That was good, at least.

"I will, of course, be supervising the mission as usual. However, Sarah is more than capable of taking care of you." Q struggled to make his voice sound its usual detached self.

"Fine," Alec gritted out. He grasped the envelope tightly and spun on his heel without another word.

Q watched the back of Alec's head as he conversed with Sarah. He had a bad feeling that this was how he was destined to live out the rest of his career at MI-6, in a pitiful state of mistrust and fear. At least Alec was still working with him, albeit extremely reluctantly. His duty to his country would always win out, and for that Q was extremely grateful. If only he could get over the debilitating guilt - an unlikely prospect. Q picked up his wiring again, losing himself in the mundane once more.

Q was a bit surprised when James showed up at his door, a few days later. The red rimmed look in James' eyes and the tight set to his mouth didn't surprise him, though. Q let him in without hesitation, smelling the alcohol wafting off the man as he passed by.

James settled down on the worn couch, his leather jacket creaking while Q wordlessly poured them both a scotch. He sat next to James, attempting to read the man and unable to do so, though he could hazard a guess as to what was churning about in his mind. He sipped his drink, letting the liquid settle on his tongue momentarily before swallowing. James leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his spine rounded. Q had never seen the strong man look so helpless.

"He left me," James said, quietly, his voice sounding rough. "It was… not good."

Q held his glass and nodded. It was what he had suspected and expected. He wondered what James' last few nights had been like. Probably rougher than his had been, and that was saying something.

"I'm sorry, James." Q looked downward, noting the way the ice swirled in lazy circles as it melted slowly. It felt like it was an odd thing to sympathize with, but Q did understand. He hadn't wanted to break the two of them up. He had wanted James to be happy. He still did.

James breathed in and exhaled heavily. He brought the glass up to his lips and downed the entire contents in one gulp. His face twisted into a slight scowl as he swallowed, feeling the warm rush travel through his chest as the liquid made its way downward. This seemed to give him courage as he turned to search Q's face.

Q wasn't sure what he felt anymore. He had been growing used to the numbness, and this prodding at his heart was dislodging some of the more painful feelings that were buried there. James reached out to take his hand and immediately the feelings surged upward strongly. He struggled to hold them back, desperate to stave off the hurt.

"Q…" James breathed, the words just a whisper, tracing Q's face with tired eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment. "I never meant to hurt you." He brushed back a lock of hair that was falling forward over Q's forehead. "I was selfish." His fingertips touched the side of Q's glasses while Q blinked at him through his lashes. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Q's throat grew thick as he took in James' anguished expression and his clumsy fingers against his face. He turned his head sideways, nuzzling into James' palm, contemplating all that had transpired, wondering if his heart could stand the trampling a second time. He knew it wasn't even a choice, though. He could deny this man nothing- he never could.

"I know, James. I know." Q tugged him closer, wrapping his arms around him, letting James pull in shaky breaths and huff out against his shoulder and neck. James' arms wrapped around him so tightly that Q thought he might burst, but he found he didn't mind at all. He felt the flutter of hope rise up in his chest and was quickly losing the willpower to clamp it down. He buried his face into James' neck, breathing in the mix of soap and scotch, trying to imprint it in his memory forever.

James pulled back slightly to look at Q, unasked questions flicking across his features. Q reached up to smooth away the lines of James' creased brow and then moved forward to press his lips tentatively against James', tasting salt. James' returning kiss was cautious and unsure, as if it was his first time. As if he was afraid Q wasn't really in front of him and loving him and wanting him.

"I don't know… where to go from here…" James whispered, pressing their foreheads together and cupping the back of Q's neck with both hands. Q's fingers moved down the strong back in smooth, soothing strokes.

"We'll figure it out," Q replied. Then, nervously, he added, "If you… want to."

James answered by moving his lips forward to capture Q's again, this time more confident and with some desperation. Q could feel his heart slowly being slotted back together. The pain still seeped outward from the seams between each piece, but he was gradually becoming whole again.

They clung to each other and, this time, it was just the two of them. There were no secrets, no hushed declarations, no fear of being caught. No third party hanging over them. As Q lay pressed beneath James, orgasm quivering through his body, he felt tears prick his eyes once more. Except now, they were from the exhausted relief of taking the leap and finally having someone there to catch him.

A/N: Well, I think that's it. A (somewhat) hopeful ending. Thank you so so much for reading and commenting. I love you all!