#44993

Bond rolls forward, although his usual liquidly graceful movements are stiff from his injuries. Q doesn’t startle, too used to Bond’s antics over months of travelling together, although his breath does hitch when Bond sweeps his fingers under Q's glasses, brushing lightly against the dark bruises Q knows are still there.

"Think of this as a vacation,” Bond says. “You haven't stopped at all since we left London."

"A vacation," Q says incredulously. "With the scorching sun and questionable water and unreliable food supplies and a heightened chance of tropical water-borne diseases, and all my equipment sunk in the ocean."

“With the briny air and an abundance of wild and sea life and limitless possibilities," Bond counters, "without alerts or surveillance or the need to stare at a glowing screen for hours on end.”

(Post-Spectre mission fic, where the mission is to survive being stranded on a desert island, and shutting down Spectre's operations is a critical but secondary objective reserved for after they get off the island.