Q looked around the minimal rustic interior of the small lounge room. The furniture was not new, yet somehow the simplicity and character that the faded antiquities provided, gave warmth to his now numbed insides, that his own, very modern house, with all of its trappings, could not provide.
"You two are soaked! I would expect you'd want a shower." Kincaide said, as he closed the front door behind himself.
Yes, yes, Q very much desired a shower. He could still feel Silva's hands on him. Nothing would please him more than washing, no, scouring, the taint of that sick pervert from his still numbed body.
James shrugged and collapsed into the nearest armchair, idly picking up a book on top of the coffee table nearby and flicking through it.
"That would be great." Q said.
"Follow me." Kincaide said. He led Q down a short hall. The bathroom was the second on the right. "I'll get you a towel and some clean nightclothes." He paused. "Mine will probably be too big for you but it's better than nothing."
Q murmured thanks then locked the bathroom door. The room was tiny. A shallow tub pushed up perpendicular to a small sink, both a disgusting orange colour. Q put the plug in the bath and turned on the tap, then started to undress. His harassment from Silva and his men still permeated his mind. He recalled boarding the helicopter afterwards, the awkward looks on the medic's face.
"We would like to do a rape kit."
Q had felt his stomach clench, his throat go dry. "I... I wasn't raped."
"We have it… on authority that some… sexual harassment occurred-"
"The answer is no! I wasn't touched."
Q climbed into the bath, allowing the soothing water to pass over him.
Not raped…Yet, why did he still feel violated? He had escaped a most horrendous fate. It was close. Too close for his comfort.
Sharp rapping on the door startled him.
"Er… it's me. Kincaide. I've left the towel and a change of clothes outside."
Q picked up the soap by the edge of the bath and started to voraciously scrub himself down with it.
You'll be fine, he told himself. You'll be all right.
He stayed in there, until the water became too cold to be comfortable. Certainly, he could simply add more hot water, but there was James Bond to think of. Q climbed out of the tub and unlocked the door, quickly drying and dressing himself.
"In there long enough." James grunted, when he made his way back into the lounge room.
"Sorry."
James shrugged then disappeared down the hall. Q stood awkwardly before Kincaide a moment, before sitting down in the lounge chair James had just vacated.
"James told me what happened." Kincaide took out a poker and started tending to the fire.
"What exactly did he say?"
"That Silva is alive. He kidnapped you to bring James to him. Silva is in custody, for now."
"Oh… yes, M told us to hide out for a bit. Silva will undoubtedly be coming after us."
Kincaide put down the poker and sat down in the chair opposite Q. "Unfortunate that James didn't properly finish him off when he had the chance. From what I saw, he is a most detestable man."
Q almost laughed aloud at that. Detestable was rather a shallow word, when it came to the deranged madman.
"You are alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?"
Q viciously shook his head.
Hurt me? No, he wanted to. He told me he was going to have sex with me. Made me strip, almost succeeded in…
Unexpected tears pricked at the edges of his eyelids.
Damn it, damn it.
He wiped at his face, as the tears spilt down his cheeks.
"No, he didn't hurt me."
Kincaide leant forward. His voice was gentle, kind. "He threatened you, didn't he?"
Q paused, then nodded.
"Sometimes, even escaping a terrible fate can be rather traumatic."
Q looked up. He saw nothing but kindness and gentility in the warm eyes.
"He told me he was going to have sex with me. Almost succeeded but I… I managed to get the upper hand and knocked him out."
For a moment, Kincaide did not hide the look of disgust that overtook his features.
"He tried to rape you!"
For the words to be said so bluntly. Q wiped another stray tear from his cheek. Damn him, what was wrong with him? Why couldn't he have control over his own damned emotions?
"That sick bastard!" Kincaide said.
"I'm ok. I'll be alright."
"Well, you'll be safe here. I guarantee it."
Q nodded, unable to look the man in the eye. He felt his cheeks warm at the man seeing his open display of emotion.
"I'm tired. If it's alright, I'd like to get some sleep."
"Sure! Ah, there's a spare room in the back." Kincaide stood up and bade Q to follow him.
"You two didn't give me much notice…" He opened the door to a single bed, in the centre of a junk laden room.
To Q, the bed looked to be the most inviting thing he'd laid eyes on since they upgraded the computer system in HQ.
"Looks fine to me."
After closing the door and climbing under the covers, Q expected to lie awake, the horror of the day circling over and over in his mind. Instead, as soon as he lay his head on the pillow, his thoughts broke up into the surreal images that signaled dreamtime was taking over.
###
As the waking world came to focus, the clutter of boxes overflowing with various household items looked utterly unfamiliar. Q sat up, taking a few moments to realise where he was.
He climbed out of bed, the too loose pajamas slipping down his hips. Q lifted them and tied the string tighter. Once opening the door, the tantalizing smell of pancakes forced him to venture down the hall to the kitchen. Here, he came cross a rather astonishing sight.
James Bond, standing by a stove, a fry pan in hand, flipping pancakes.
"Did you sleep alright?" He indicated the kitchen counter, where a plate of already cooked pancakes beckoned, with a couple of plates and cutlery alongside, along with a bottle of maple syrup.
"I slept fine." Q took one of the proffered plates and piled a couple of pancakes on top, smothering them in maple syrup. "You?"
"I have a bit of a stiff neck from the couch. Would have been better to have a bed but I'll be alright."
For a moment, they caught eyes. Q looked away and picked up a knife and fork, bringing his pancakes to the dining table opposite.
"Where's Kincaide?" He asked, as he started to dig into his food. They were a little thinner than he usually liked, but otherwise they were quite good.
"Gone outside to collect the eggs from the barn. He offered to make us scrambled eggs for breakfast. I just couldn't get over my hankering for pancakes."
"Hm…" Q swallowed his mouthful. "You have to admit, this is rather odd, us sitting having breakfast together."
"Well, I'm cooking, not sitting with you."
"Even odder." Q looked up and smirked at him. "Not bad at all. I wouldn't be too upset if you wished to make all the dinners."
"Well, you can make yourself useful. When you've finished there, you might want to take a look at Kincaide's computer. It has a virus on it."
Q shrugged. "No problem."
###
It only took a few minutes to wipe the virus from Kincaide's computer.
"Should be fine now." He wasn't going to admit to himself that he had felt a surge of pride, upon seeing the old man's relieved face.
"Thank you! I haven't been able to use that computer for months!"
"Well-"
James suddenly rushed into the room, mobile phone in hand.
"It's M." He pressed he loudspeaker and placed the phone on the computer desk.
"There has been a terrorist attack in Shanghai." M spoke from within the small earpiece.
Q frowned and clicked on the Internet explorer icon on Kincaide's computer, typing 'bbcnews' into the browser. The front page's headline read '10 Dead, Dozens Injured in Terrorist Attack in Shanghai'.
"Five of the deceased have been identified as being ones who tortured Silva." M continued
All three men looked to each other.
"Hold fast, men. Hold fast." The line went dead.
"We need to leave, now." James said.
Q looked down at Kincaide's borrowed clothes. He had not had the time to dress, from the night before.
"But-"
"Let's go." Kincaide started to follow James out of the house. "We'll use my car."
"Someone tell me what's going on!" Q trailed behind them.
James didn't even look back, as he got into the car. "Hold fast is a code. This place is compromised. Silva knows where we are."
Tbc…