“No, I don’t think so,” Q disagrees with forced lightness. “Not this time.”
“Oh, honey,” Eve sighs, not fooled in the least. She reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. “Every time. He always comes back.”
“There’s no reason for him to come back, not anymore,” Q insists. “M is dead, and he’s finished the last mission she ever gave him. He can retire now. Live a peaceful life with a beautiful woman. And a beautiful car.”
“If you think he’ll be happy with a peaceful life, you don’t understand him as well as you think,” Eve laughs.
“Maybe he doesn’t want peaceful,” Q allows, “but we’ve read his file. He doesn’t want m— this either, or he wouldn’t keep trying to leave.”
“Eventually, he will come home. And when he does,” Eve says, sitting back and angling to speak to someone over Q’s shoulder, “you should tell him.”