odd handshakes

5

The Children’s Charity Garden Club AU

“So which one’s yours?” Harry hears just as he starts patting the soil down. Leaning back enough so Harry can see his face, the man smiles and throws a helpful glance over at the children chasing each other to their right.

“None,” Harry answers. “Too young for kids.” He holds the man’s gaze, tries to make the once over he gives him look natural and fails but Harry figures that no harm’s been done when he notices the man’s sudden interest in the stretch of his jeans from where he’d been trying to find a comfortable position to kneel down in for the passed hour. There’s dirt tickling Harry’s nose when he suddenly finds a gloved hand shoved in his face.

“Peter.” He smiles. The pliant soil on their gloves make the handshake feel odd, but the heat Harry can feel coming from Peter’s hand gives it some familiarity.

“Harry,” he barely gets out before Peter’s wetting his lips and grinning heartily.

“I know.”

I’ve watched too many period drama so, how about Q being a bit like Emma (as in, taking care of a sick relative in a poor little town) and one day learning he is to marry the newcomer Lord (aka Bond). Their first meeting perhaps? Or the evening just after the wedding where they get to learn to know each other? Basically just all the fluff of two people finding despite never have met they will have a good life together. Thank you lovelies ! – anon

Hope you enjoy! Jen.

Q brushed himself down once again, and straightened slightly, ready to meet the man he was apparently going to spend the rest of his life with, feeling extremely self-conscious and a little bit resentful; however, there was no other options. Q needed to marry, and James Bond was the best option.

The door creaked open.

“Hello.”

Well. At least he was absolutely gorgeous.

“… hello,” Q replied, after a long look at him, trying to take him in; Lord Bond seemed to be doing the same, both giving each other a once-over, the person they were going to spend the rest of their lives with. “I’m Q.”

“Bond. James Bond.”

He had a warm voice, and warmer handshake; an odd formality, but one Q quite liked. “It’s… it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Bond’s smile was dazzling. “And you, Q.”

Unsurprisingly, there was something dimly awkward about it all. They were going to be married in a few days’ time. It made things a bit odd.

“So… tell me about yourself,” Bond asked warmly, as Q floundered a bit, reasonably sure he was cultivating a very pink blush. “I work for His Majesty’s Secret Service.”

Q raised an eyebrow slightly. “In what capacity?”

“That would be telling,” Bond smiled. “I can tell you after we’re married, but I’m afraid it’s illegal before that.”

“Wow,” Q noted. “Well… I work as a blacksmith, mostly. I tend to work with munitions, the army and navy occasionally consult me on things, or I just sell on… I mean I was bored, I’m looking after my mother usually, she… well, I need to be able to care for her but I can’t really when I’m not working, I don’t have the money, so I need to work but I need to care for her, so I…”

“… calm,” Bond said gently, somehow avoiding condescension. “In which case, I’m glad we’re marrying sooner rather than later – I look forward to meeting her. I’m sure I can find a doctor from London to consult with, as well.”

Q’s smile was in no way forced. “That would be… well, that would be brilliant, yes, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to take advantage of you though, I mean, it’s difficult to, when we’re, I mean marrying in the first place, looks like I’m just social climbing which I sort-of have and I know that’s not really fair and why on earth are you marrying me in the first place??”

“I’m lonely.”

The starkness of the statement hit Q with ridiculous force, making his heart break a little. “Not any more, you’re not,” he said, with an encouraging smile, unsure of how to respond. “Erm. You’re… I mean you’re very handsome, I can imagine you, I mean I’m not exactly, I’m truly probably not the best of choices…”

Bond reached out to him, took his hand, kissed the top of it.

Q fell quiet.

Bond was making him feel giddy, making words fly out of him, and honest to god he had never felt so awkward in his entire life.

“I look forward to our lives together,” Bond said softly.

Q threw caution to the wind, and leaned in, pressing a soft and very tentative kiss to Bond’s lips. “Me too,” he replied, just about stopping his voice from squeaking. “Me too.”