Everything hurt.

Bond gritted his teeth as he finally arrived to his and Q's flat, the key nearly slipping in his hand as he lost a few minutes trying to get it into the lock. Leaning against the door for support, he finally managed to get the door open and slip inside the darkened flat. Then he closed the door quickly, aware that Q got tetchy whenever the cat escaped from the flat because of a careless person.


Smiling, he looked down as Missy padded over to where he was standing, jumping onto the nearest armchair before climbing to the back of it so she could brush her body against his arm, purring as he reached up to scratch behind her ears. "Hey there, sweetie, did you watch Q for me?" he asked, smiling slightly as she moved her head underneath his fingers in order to get his fingers where she wanted them to be.

"Welcome home."

He looked up, and then grinned despite himself. Q looked like hell, through and through, with reddened eyes and worn clothes that hung off his frame, wrinkled from Q having slept in them. Bond moved to him, carefully setting down his heavy jacket and reaching forward for the quartermaster, who wrapped his arms carefully around Bond's neck before pulling him in for a deep kiss. "How badly are you hurt?" he whispered, stepping back as though to check Bond over for injuries.

"I'll live," Bond assured him, letting the other man unbutton his shirt to get a better look at the knife wounds on his torso. Judging from Q's furrowed brows, Bond suspected that he was about to get another lecture on skipping Medical. In an effort to stave off the inevitable, Bond leaned down slightly to run a hand through Q's messy hair before pressing him close as he said, "But I came home alive. I'm back."

Q nodded mutely, but he still stepped back and began to carefully pull Bond's shirt off the rest of the way, carefully working around the injuries. "Sit down, at least," he said, the relief obvious in his voice. Bond caught him for another kiss, hand moving underneath Q's untucked shirt as Q guided him to the armchair. "Shh, not until I've had a chance to look at you," he said, giving Bond a watery smile before guiding Bond down into the chair. Bond closed his eyes, trying not to flinch as Q pulled the shirt off the rest of the way. "I see why you skipped Medical… it's not as bad as it looks," he said, but Bond could still hear the uncertainty in his voice.

Bond gently ran a hand down Q's spine before letting the other man go so he could get their first aid kit. "I'll report in tomorrow," he said when Q returned, shifting so that Q could straddle his lap.

"And my equipment?" Q quipped, still grinning softly as he pulled the antiseptic out with bandages, part of his arm always touching Bond's bare skin as he worked.

"Worked beautifully, but unfortunately, we had to part," Bond said, smirking at Q's feigned pained expression. "I had my husband waiting for me at home."

Q snorted at the line, and Bond smirked; it hadn't been one of his best, but it had succeeded in making Q laugh.

Instead of verbally responding, he turned and captured Q in a kiss, wrapping his hands delicately around the back of Q's neck and head, guiding Q to lie against him as the two sought as much physical contact as possible.

This moment was theirs. No one could take it from them. Not even if Bond or Q or both were to die the next day, this moment, the love, was theirs and not even time itself could take that away form them.

Separation, after all, is nothing but an illusion.

A/N: And that's the end! Thank you for your support throughout the story, I hope you enjoyed it :) Bond Bond and all related media belong to Ian Fleming.