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“I’m heading out in a minute. Do you need anything before I go?”
Q, already muffled in his parka, hoisted his messenger bag over his head and straightened his glasses. His answer was an unintelligible bad-tempered grunt from the sofa.
“What was that?” He rounded the sofa to find James slumped amongst the cushions, flicking aimlessly through the muted TV channels, barely pausing long enough on any to register the programme.
“I said ‘I’m fine’” James growled without looking up. “I’m surrounded by everything you think I could possibly need already. Water, snacks, TV remote, books… Oh hang on, you forgot the commode.”
“Tetchy today aren’t we?” Q refused to be needled by James’ bad mood. “More painkillers?”
James lifted his hand and waved a box of ibuprofen at his partner. “Taken 20 minutes ago while you were fussing in the kitchen making a mountain of sandwiches that I probably won’t eat.”
“Just trying to save my miserable old git of a partner from as many inconveniences as possible.” Q gave him a brief kiss on his stubbled cheek. “Drink the water. You can always piss in the empty bottle if you can’t navigate to the toilet on those.” Q nudged James’ crutches with a toe, then skipped smartly out of the way as James used one of them to swipe the pile of holiday brochures off the coffee table so he could rest his broken leg on it.
“Those may as well go in the bin too. So much for escaping.”
Q smiled and waved as he headed for the door. “Might want to pick those up somehow. I’d hate you to slip on them and break your other leg. See you tonight.”
~~~~~
James glared at the scattered brochures for a full two hours before he finally found the mess more irritating than his frustration with his scuppered plans to avoid Christmas. He used the crutches to prod them into a neat-ish pile behind the coffee table mostly out of his eyeline. He could do without being mocked by palm trees and cobalt blue sea kissing white sandy beaches, particularly when the TV was already bombarding him with adverts for hampers and festive food and December was still three days away.
James didn’t ‘do’ Christmas. It wasn’t that he was Scrooge-like - he was in fact very generous in his gift-giving - he just didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. He barely remembered the eleven Christmases he experienced before his parents died, and for several years after that, with various guardians, Christmas was so low-key as to be almost non-existent. By the time he moved on to the Navy he held no sentiment for the season at all.
Besides, who would remain in cold, dreary London when it was so simple to hop on a plane and enjoy guaranteed sun and hotel service for a week? If he wasn’t on a mission, he wanted to be somewhere he could relax, not be bombarded with invitations from frantic stressed out people, determined to enjoy the season at all costs, with gritted teeth and empty wallets. And this time he would be with Q, making the most of rare time off together.
True, Q had seemed a little disappointed that they wouldn’t be enjoying all the frivolities of December, but he had agreed that a week of solitude in sunnier climes would set them up nicely for the coming year. Feeling guilty, James opened his laptop.
~~~~~
Q dawdled along the high street peering into shop windows that glittered with Christmas lights and festive decorations. It was nowhere near as crazy as Oxford Street, but late night shopping had already started in the run up to the season. Tinny Christmas music floated on the air where the shop doorways were propped open to welcome customers in. It was too early for the street vendors to be out with their mulled wine and roasted chestnuts, but in a couple of weeks the festive market would set up and turn the east end of the street into a Winter Wonderland.
Q loved it. As many years as he had lived on his own, he had always tried to make a bit of an occasion of it, even if some years it was nothing more than a microwave turkey dinner and a 3 foot artificial Christmas tree. Last year was like that. At the end of a long shift, supervising two missions that wouldn’t take a holiday just because half the world thought it should, he had returned to his flat, turned on his twinkling LED lights, heated his meal and opened an expensive bottle of wine. Watching a recording of the Christmas Eve carols from Kings, he had sung along loudly just because he could, even though he was in no way religious.
This was the first year in many that he had the opportunity to share it with someone special. Two years earlier Eve had invited him to spend the day with her and her current beau, and while it had been lovely, he had felt like a spare wheel. Soon after their late lunch he had made his goodbyes and returned home. He had been looking forward to a day of food and lazing around with his new partner, but James didn’t seem keen on Christmas at all. Still, a holiday was something special also, and he shouldn’t have been so disappointed.
Nor should he feel quite so cheery that James’ planned getaway had been ruined by a broken leg. Feeling guilty, Q stepped into the next shop.
~~~~~
“I’m sorry. I behaved like an utterly miserable wanker this morning.” James balanced on his crutches just inside the living room as Q arrived home.
“No argument from me” Q chuckled, leaning in to kiss him briefly, but before he could move away James had clumsily wrapped an arm around him, bashing Q’s calves with the crutch and demanding a proper kiss. They teetered for a moment, off balance, until laughing they both managed to find some stability.
“I think you had better hobble on back to the sofa before you have another accident” Q smirked. “Dinner will be delivered shortly. Sorry, I got distracted and forgot to pick up something to cook.”
Q turned to go into the kitchen and almost fell over a huge box. Two more were stacked behind it, the top one already open and it’s glittering contents seeming to burst out of it. “What the hell…?” He lifted a long strand of sparkling black and silver tinsel from the box and held it out to James.
“Umm… surprise?! I wanted to say sorry properly for being such an arse and ignoring your hints about Christmas, so I had a few decorations rushed over here...”
Q laughed out loud and immediately delved into the box, extracting more tinsel and baubles and strings of lights. “A few?! It looks like the elves had a party and vomited Christmas into the box. All very tastefully coordinated, of course” he teased as more and more decorations joined the growing pile on the kitchen floor.
James looked sheepish. “I think I overestimated how much was required to decorate one apartment, but once I started looking it was very hard to stop.”
Q grinned. “I wanted to cheer you up also.” He fished in his messenger bag and pulled out a large envelope, handing it to James.
“A holiday…?” James leafed through the details, checking the dates and destination. “Early March. And this resort is incredible… You booked the private villa?!”
Q laughed at James stunned expression. “Time enough to fix that leg of yours. And I had a little bit put aside for a rainy day. Plenty of those to escape from still in March.”
“I suppose this means we’re having a big festive Christmas?” James said, silently wondering what on earth he had let himself in for.
“Steady on, James, don’t go overboard” Q wrapped a boa of tinsel around his partner’s neck. “Cheap and cheerful microwave turkey for two will suit us fine.”