Q hummed, but was otherwise silent. It was clear that he wasn't keen on Bond going, but he knew better than to try and convince the agent not to go. Work was work, and his feelings for Bond had no place there.

Oberon had finished eating, and he wound himself around Q's legs before crying for hiss attention. The young Quartermaster didn't hesitate to cave to the cat's demands, bending low and scooping up the fluffy white beast to carry him over to the sofa.

Quietly, he hugged the animal to his chest, hoping Bond wasn't watching as he buried his face in its fur. The cat rumbled, the sound and vibrations comforting as Q held him closer and allowed himself the briefest moment of panic and fear, before composing himself and pushing his worries and concerns away.

Bond would be fine. Bond was always fine- It was part of what made Bond, Bond after all.