He heard Q and did quite the opposite. His grip tightened until he could feel the fine bones nearly threaten to snap. He knew what kind of bright pain it was. But as quickly as he did it he loosened his grip...just enough to not be excruciating but not enough to let him go.

"So you do think you'll be the one to tell me no," he said. "I don't think you understand what a mistake that is on your part."

Then he reached to take the champagne before Q could break the glass. He didn't want him to hurt himself, nor did he want him to have a weapon. Every move was calculated and measured, but he was deeply determined.