To start off Fest, Team Q Branch is having a team song lyric prompt exchange. I picked @aprettyspy ’s prompt which is from “Love in The Dark” by Adele.
"Please, stay where you are. Don't come any closer. Don't try to change my mind. I'm being cruel to be kind."
"Please, stay where you are,” Q said, without even a glance or stutter of his fingers.
Bond, as always, paid him no mind.
“Don't come any closer,” Q said with full-on eye contact and scowl.
“Don't try to change my mind,” Bond said, his arms crossed, his stance steady. And then he lunged. Like a great stinking shedding middle-aged lion with absolutely no sense of decency. Or personal space.
“I'm being cruel to be kind," Bond insisted as he tried to get the better of Q.
“You’re being a dick to be a dick because—” Q waved in a gesture to encompass all of Bond “—you.”
Bond went for full-on PoutyMcPoutFace. Q was not deterred.
“It makes you sad,” Bond insisted with what lesser men might call earnestness.
“Who are you to police my emotions?! You wouldn’t know an emotion if you fell out of a helicopter, landed atop it and gutted it in a back alley!”
“You’re going to take one full sip, spit out the second and then airclaw at your tongue and make the mopiest faces—“
“Afraid I’ll cut into your allotted time for your magnificent sulk which is—“ Q pointedly looked at his watch—“13 hours and 59 minutes of the 14 hours remaining in the day.”
“—and whine until I finally put knock out drops in your nightcap once it’s gone 3,” Bond continued over him, the brute.
“I want Evie. You make a horrible girlfriend, Bond.”
Bond huffed and said, “Q,” with the levels of exasperation that burn right past smolder.
Q made eye contact while he steadily lifted the cup toward his mouth.
“Fine,” Bond said, “If you let me drink your poisonous horrible nostalgia drink, I’ll throw you over my shoulder like the cave man you purport me to be, drag you home—traffic signals be damned— let you sniff at my mouth like the ridiculous half feral kitten you absolutely are and then start off doing that thing with my tongue that drives you right out your infuriatingly brilliant mind.”
Q made a face.
“Unless you pass out in a puddle of drool on my lap because hair pets are your secret weakness.”
Q sniffed. “Evie would have the best ice cream and also sing to me.”
“Would Eve also have a massive—“
“You’d be surprised.”
“I really wouldn’t,” Bond said.
Q waggled his eyebrows and Bond snorted, then took Qi’s hand.
“Q.”
“And none of this over the shoulder nonsense. It’s bridal carry or not at all,” Q said.
“And it only took me 157 concussions to realize you’re the love of my life. But who’s counting?”
“Marie in Medical,” Q muttered, “That’s who.”
“C’mon, Q. Let’s go make your cats pause their plans of world domination.”
“As if they hadn’t already set them in motion long before you stalked me home.”