Two years. Two years, since Bond, Q and Danny had freed Alex and the world of TRS. Two years, which had seen the four of them become an item. Two years of Danny coaxing Alex into working at MI6 as one of Q's employees and eventually persuading him into field work with Bond. Danny had been patient or pushy, comforting or challenging, somehow always sensing what Alex needed to continue forward, to become a whole and happy person for the first time in his life.

Tanner had made no secret about his reservations toward Alex. Even Q seemed to have had his doubts, despite having seen his exceptional work at Q-branch. Alex smiled to himself, looking out of the small window of the airplane. Bond, sleeping soundly on the seat next to him, didn't have any qualms. As soon as Danny had uttered the possibility of Alex and Bond working as a team, he had grabbed it wholeheartedly, dragging Alex along to tests and training. Danny would be waiting at home, ready to listen and cajoling Alex into telling him all about his results and experiences.

During the last months, Alex had been sent off on several missions with Bond. Q's initial reluctance had been replaced with a subdued enthusiasm. The two agents had become one of M's favourite pairings. Bond's destructive and spontaneous style was counteracted by Alex's rather more thought through approach. Most gadgets and weaponry were now returned in pristine condition to Q-branch. At the same time the two of them were causing less foreign incidents and explosions than ever before.

Life was good. And yet, Alex had sensed a change in Danny. Less than a year ago, Alex finally began to realise the enormity of their feat. And while he had been observing Danny intensely since the very first time he had encountered him on the bridge, now he began to conduct small, innocent experiments with him. Bringing home cooking utensils and watch Danny use or dismiss them; potted plants and crocheting were tried out on Danny, as well as different kind of sports and dancing. Alex registered and remembered, keeping an internal tally on how well his experiments were received and for how long Danny kept an interest in them. Any kind of idea or event Alex could conceive of was welcomed by Danny, who obviously saw them as exiting new adventures. Yet, Alex kept poking, wanting to find the one thing that could last for more than the time both Alex and Danny invested in it together.

On one of his early morning runs Alex tried out a new route and he came across a second hand bookshop. He decided to visit it during his lunch break the same day, browsing through the books and finding a first edition of Maurice by E. M. Forster. Nothing special, but still something made Alex buy the book for Danny. A few days later, Alex had to leave on a mission with Bond. Q spent two days straight at MI6, overseeing their progress before he returned home to Danny.

When Bond and Alex arrived the day after, Danny would be greeting them as enthusiastic and joyful as always. This time, though, he had the book near by, retelling the tale to Alex, pointing out his favourite scenes and discussing how the life of Maurice and his lover would continue. Alex hadn't known the story, when he bought the book. Forster as a writer he had heard about, but for his next gift he decided against the obvious choices, A Room with a View or A Passage to India. He found Forster's Aspects of the Novel, remembering the time Danny had shown the three of them his early attempts on writing and creating stories. Danny curled up on the sofa, book in his hands, every now and again sipping tea or absentmindedly petting Turing, who was purring away by his side. Alex would pretend to work on some of his algorithms, sitting at the dinner table, watching Danny fascinated. Even Q would look up from his coding and cast surprised glances in Danny's direction. Without a word, Bond would take it on him to cook dinner, smirking impressed at Alex.

With great care Alex continued to supply Danny with new books. Classics as well as modern writers, translations from German and French, fiction and theoretical works on literature—Danny would soak it all up. He began to take notes, comparing texts, started writing his own stories again. All the time, Danny would return to the two very first books, Alex had given him. Every new story, every theory was scrutinised and set against Forster's works, always to be found lacking in some way or other.

Alex shifted in his seat. When they had left Danny for this mission, Alex had felt a peculiar kind of unease washing over him. Nothing was obvious in Danny's demeanour, still something felt wrong.

Bond's hand touched Alex's fingers as if by accident, pulling him out of his reverie. Alex had his indifferent mask in place as he glanced at Bond's sleeping face. Bond half-opened his eyes and grinned at him, brushing over Alex's hand with light fingers. Alex swallowed and with a satisfied smile Bond closed his eyes once more. The faint blush on Alex's face hadn't gone unnoticed.

Q collected them at the airport. Being in public with the two agents his smile was as always reserved and he just nodded as a greeting. That was, until Bond had fetched their bags, unceremoniously dropping them at Alex's feet, and continued to embrace Q in a hug, bending him over and kissing him senseless. Bags in hand and watching unashamedly, Alex stood beside the spectacle, which drew a few whistles and encouraging shouts from other passengers. With dishevelled hair and glasses askew, Q tried to collect himself when Bond released him, a wicked grin on his face.

"Let's get home to Danny," Bond said, already on his way to the parking space.

Taking the driver's seat, Bond waited for Q and Alex to get into the back seat. The two of them would probably use the drive home for exchanging their newest insights into some coding mysteries and algorithms, Bond didn't stand a chance to understand. Instead, he would watch them every now and then while driving. He revelled in the way Alex would let go, sitting close to Q, casually touching, even caressing the other. Bond had no idea how Alex was able to keep the cold persona during their missions and even when working at MI6. Only very few people knew about Alex's relationship with Danny. Even fewer knew about his relationships with Q and Bond. And Bond suspected that Alex had no idea how important he had become in Bond's life. When they started out on their first mission together, Bond had felt himself relax for the first time in years. Knowing somebody had his back out in the field—somebody Bond trusted without any doubts or reservations—had proven to be more important than Bond ever had been able to imagine. From having solely focussed on accomplishing the mission, hoping to return alive and without too many injuries, he began to feel alive again. Assessing risks and taking less chances. Together, they had been able to not only avoid civilian losses, but actually helping people. Bond had to smirk. If they continued down this road, his reputation as a double-oh might be ruined for good.

Q and Alex were bend over a tablet, discussing some kind of mathematical problem. Q had been fiddling with his mobile and he suddenly stopped answering Alex. With a frown on his face, he swiped his phone several times. Alex looked up from the tablet with a questioning glance.

"What—"

"Danny hasn't answered my text."

Bond had accelerated the car before Q had finished the sentence. Q tried to call, but the phone went to voice mail immediately. Alex tried with the same result. Bond pushed the car to its limits. They were in the middle of London and traffic was dense.

"When did you last speak to him?"

Alex voice was quiet, betraying nothing of the anxiousness he was feeling. Q knew anyway.

"I, it was this morning. Haven't been home the past," Q paused, trying to remember. "What day is it? Thurs-, no Friday. That would be three days."

Q swallowed and looked guilty.

"It's—I haven't had time. The mission."

Alex nodded slightly. He understood far too well. He held on to Q's hand, grounding him. He didn't need to look at Bond, knowing that he would look as guilty as Alex himself felt. All three of them had taken Danny for granted. He was the happy ray of sunshine, ready for them whenever they found time to return home. Always smiling, listening with sincere interest, ready to pick up the pieces and put all of them together again. He was their fulcrum and they knew it.

Alex had been afraid something might happen. Danny getting up and leave, finding his way back to his old life, which on so many levels sounded more interesting to Alex than sitting at home, being all domestic, turning the living room into a cosy nest and preparing dinner for them, should they be home in time to eat it.

Despite Bond's best efforts, the drive felt endless. When he finally turned into their parking space, the three of them were out of the car and running up the stairs without thinking about their luggage or locking the car properly.

The door to their flat was closed and locked. No sign of any unbidden intruders. Q took out the keys and silently opened the door, Bond covering him. They didn't make a sound as they entered the hall way, hoping for their cats to attack as usual, for Danny to stand in the living room door, smiling at them.

There was only silence. No movement, no cats, and no Danny.

Slowly, they moved forward to the half closed living room door. Q kept behind both Alex and Bond. Alex was the one to fully open the door, suppressing a gasp.

Danny was slumped under one of the windows, Turing clutched in his arms, knees drawn up so his forehead was resting on them. Pam was for lack of a better word guarding Danny. Tail held high, hair standing on edge, the white cat managed to look regal, accusing and utterly disdainful at the same time. When she saw Bond, her ears flattened. Bond was too surprised to move. Alex on the other hand had only eyes for Danny. He walked past the guarding cat who was seemingly stunned by this unexpected boldness. Pam recovered fast from the trespassing and hissed a loud warning at Bond.

"Get some tea and blankets."

Alex whispered barely loud enough for Q and Bond to hear. He had knelt down beside Danny and tried to get a reaction from him. Turing was apparently quite content being held tightly, purring away with eyes closed.

"Danny?"

Alex was whispering. When Danny didn't react, Alex touched his arm carefully.

"I am going to take you into my arms and move you to the sofa, okay?"

He waited a few moments for an answer. But Danny didn't answer. Alex tenderly embraced Danny, lifting and dragging him up and towards the sofa. Danny felt like a dead weight, unresponsive and apathetic. His head lolled onto Alex's shoulder and Alex could feel the stubble on Danny's face. How long had he been sitting there? Danny's face was dry, but his eyes were red, and his skin was still blotched. Turing had kept up the purring, clinging to Danny when his arms just fell to his sides. Alex sat sideways on the sofa, arranging Danny so his back was against his chest. He let Danny crumple against him, placing his arms on his stomach with Turing curling up between them. Danny's eyes closed and he made a small sound when Alex nuzzled into his hair. The usually wild and unruly locks lay flat against Danny's head. One more sign that he must have collapsed last night or even earlier.

Q had come and taken Pam with him, before he returned with tea, sandwiches cut into small chunks, and some blankets. Alex looked gratefully at him, trying to smile. He looked wrecked and Alex couldn't blame him. The three of them had some heavy guilt to deal with in the next weeks and months coming. Q motioned toward Danny and then pointed at himself and back towards the door, mouthing okay? Alex nodded. He was no expert, but he suspected Danny needed cuddles and quietness around him. He draped the blankets over them, making sure, Danny was comfortable and warm. Turing's purring hadn't stopped and right now the small tabby was inching closer towards Danny's face, placing itself on the opposite side of Alex's head, effectively trapping Danny between the two of them. Q had closed the door behind him and a soothing lull fell over the room. Alex could hear some mumbling from the kitchen, Bond and Q probably discussing what to do.

Alex caressed Danny's arms, telling him quietly how much he meant for all of them and how important he was for their lifes.

"I'm sorry, Danny. I'm sorry. I should have known, should have helped you."

Alex was rocking them tenderly, holding Danny tight and placing small kisses wherever he could reach. He helped Danny drink some tea and fed him small mouthfuls of sandwich. Danny pliantly opened his mouth, swallowed and chewed, but was otherwise unresponsive.

They stayed that way for a while. The shadows in the room grew longer, and the light was fading into grey. A small knock on the door announced Q's entry.

"I've drawn a bath."

Q had changed into pyjamas, and Alex suspected Bond to have done the same.

"We'll be in the guest room, okay?"

Alex smiled gratefully at him and Q left again, leaving the door open behind him.

Turing sensed the change when Alex began to untangle himself from the sofa. The tabby left, probably in search of food and water. Alex briefly wondered how long the cats had kept their vigil, then he got Danny gently up from the sofa and decided to carry him. Danny didn't protest, just burrowed his face into the crook of Alex's neck. It was the first sign of a conscious move since they had gotten back to the flat.

He took his time undressing Danny, having placed him on a small stool in the bathroom. As soon as Danny was naked, Alex lifted him inside the warm bath tub, following him a few minutes later. Alex had arranged both of them to his liking, Danny again lying between his legs, his back against Alex's chest. He could feel Danny relaxing, heaving a deepfelt sigh and letting his eyes fall closed.

Alex washed Danny with a soft flannel, taking care of every inch of Danny's body, reverently washing away not only the grime but some of the agony, Danny must have felt. He responded to Alex's few request, lifting his arm, turning his hands up, moving his legs. Alex's movements were measured and had a certain monotony over them, relaxing both of them.

Before the water got cold, Alex washed Danny's hair and got him out of the tub. He used a large, soft towel to dry him off and helped Danny through the motions of getting ready for bed. The shaving had to wait for the morning, Alex decided. If he was honest with himself, he found the stubble rather sexy on Danny.

The bedroom was lit up by a small lamp on one of the bed side tables. Q had turned up the duvet and all Alex had to do was put Danny in the middle of the large bed, then crawl in beside him. As soon as he turned off the light, Danny curled up around him with a small contented sigh. His breathing evened out within minutes and a slight snoring filled the room.

Alex lay awake for a long time, thinking about Danny and wondering how he had been able to cope with all of this for so long. They had spoken about it. Discussed it at length, explained and described the events as best they could. But Alex had always been the centre of attention. Danny had always made sure Alex's needs were taken care of, putting himself last. Not just for Alex, but for Q and Bond as well. Their relationship were hanging by the thread when Alex had been rescued. Danny had been there for them as well. Mediating between them, ensuring they continued communicating despite everything that had transpired. Danny had taken care of every one around him. And they had let him, because they needed him to take care. He had to be the strong one; the one who knew what to do to drag his lovers out of their dark places; the one who could make them laugh and cry; the romantic one; the ingenious lover; the one who kept giving.

A single tear found its way down Alex's cheek. He had no idea if he ever would be able to repay Danny for all the trouble, all the anxiousness he had experienced—all because he fell in love with Alex. And Bond. And Q.

Danny shifted in his sleep, mumbling something. A smile played on his face and Alex wondered how it was even possible that he wasn't a broken, cynical and bitter man. How was it possible that he was able to smile, able to approach the world with an innocence Alex had lost so early in his own life?

With a small smile of his own, he let his fingers tangle through Danny's hair, enticing small happy sounds from him in his sleep. His fingers trailed down Danny's back, circling over the small of his back, before closing his arms around Danny and kissing him on his head.

He fell asleep a few minutes later.