"We were just talking," Q said quickly, feigning nervousness.

It was enough to prompt the man to let go of the Quartermaster's wrist, and Q used the opportunity to get up.

"I'll make it up to you," he promised, getting up close and personal with Clint, one hand on the other man's chest. "We can leave, if you like."

There was an ever so slight look of thanks in the young quartermaster's gaze, and that part wasn't an act. He very much didn't like physical confrontation.