Bond walked out and saw their observer moving away and though he was sure he'd been talking to Q, 'James' was too wrapped up in himself to notice such a thing. His trousers were soaked, a dark stain in an embarrassing location, and he was stiff as he came back to his seat.

He waved to the bartender to get new drinks.

"Sit. Down." His order was quiet but stern and he looked at Q with an odd mixture of desire and rage. A dangerous combination and one intended to paint the younger man as in well over his head.