Work Text:
By the time they made it back to the flat, James was almost running to keep up with Q, who had been storming 10 paces ahead since they’d left the park
“Don’t lie to me, James.” Q spat, finally getting the door open and storming into the house. “I saw her!”
“For the love of queen and country…” Bond muttered before yelling after him, “I am not having an affair!”
Q whirled round to face James. “Then, who is she? Who is it you keep sneaking off to every other weekend?”
“Q I…” He trailed off, losing his nerve.
“Who is she, James?” Q asked again, fuming.
James retreated into himself. “Q, I don’t… Don’t make me…” He sounded terrified, but Q was too worked up to notice.
“We started something, James. We made a commitment to each other and you’re honestly going to tell me... what? That she doesn’t mean anything?” Q’s voice was going from angry to hurt, back and forth, and it was tearing at his heart word by word.
“I wanted them separate from you,” Bond said, trying to keep his voice level. “From us.”
“James, how could you…” Betrayal filled Q’s words, thinking the worst.
James rushed to correct him. “But it’s not... She’s not…”
“Not what James?” Q interrupted.
“Not an affair!”
Q looked like he’d just been told grass was blue. “So, you’re telling me you’ve never slept with that woman?”
James faltered at that. Visibly scrounging for any answer other than yes that wouldn’t be a lie.
“Jesus, James. I thought-”
James knew what he thought, but he hadn’t… “Not in 14 years.”
It was Q’s turn to falter, and James would be damned if he didn’t take the chance to speak.
“And I don’t go see her, Q. I mean, I see her of course, but only…”
‘Only what James?”
“Only because she drops off her son.”
“And? What you’re babysitting now? MI6 not paying you well?” Q demanded. By now, he was frustrated with James for skirting the question, prolonging his answers. If he was having an af-
“He’s my son.” James said.
Q’s thoughts whiplashed. “Excuse me?”
Bond repeated himself slowly. “He’s my son. And I have custody every other weekend. When I’m in London.”
“Your son?” What.
“Yes.” What.
“You have a son?” What.
“Yes.” Q was finding it hard to picture James with a child that wasn’t theirs. That he didn’t even know existed.
“How old is he?” How many years have I not known?
“He’s 13 in May.”
“You have a 13-year-old son.” That I haven’t met.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Q’s anger was gone, replaced by all the confusion and insecurity that came with finding out your boyfriend of three years, your best friend, the man you’d give your life for, had a son you didn’t know existed.
“I don’t tell anyone.” James was a double-oh he knew the risks. Would have cut the kid from his life if he thought it would make him any safer.
“But me, why not me?”
“I…” James could barely look him in the eye. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”
Q softened. “Oh, James.”
“Are you mad?” He asked, needing to know what Q was thinking now.
“I don’t think I can be,” Q said. It was becoming clear that James was more than insecure in this subject. “But I don’t understand why you didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t want him to be the reason we didn’t make it,” James explained, “and I didn’t want to have to choose because I know I’d choose him.” He’d do almost anything for Q, but absolutely anything for his son. “I’ll always choose him.”
“What’s his name?” Q asked, wanting suddenly to let James know that having a son was okay. That it was leagues ahead of an affair.
“Connor.” James supplied.
“Well then, “Q said, almost shy in tone. “Suppose I better clear next weekend.”
“What?” James asked, needing to hear him say exactly what he meant, because if he was understanding, then Q actually wanted to meet Connor. To meet his son.
“I think I should probably meet him,” Q said, and James felt a tangible rush of relief run through him. “I’ve been dating his dad for three years, so it feels a little overdue.”
“You actually want to meet him?” Bond checked.
“He’s your son, isn’t he?”
“Yes but you don’t have to, it doesn’t-“
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Q interrupted. “It matters, James. I want to be in your life, and I want you in mine. That means wanting to know the people that are important to you. Preferably before the wedding.”
“The wedding?”
“I’m in this for the long-haul James. So, at some point, maybe once retirement actually sticks,” Q added cheekily. “I’m hoping for a wedding.”
Bond straightened up at the idea. “Well, you should meet my son then.” Maybe after introductions had been made, he should bring the ring box home from work at some point.