You smiled faintly, giggling to yourself. There you sat on the ground near a small staircase. Q, on the other hand, sat on the top of another small staircase and sat sideways. The only thing between the two of you was a locked, bar door.
"So, miss high and mighty, how's first class doing ya?" Q asked, scratching at his cheek. You laughed at this, looking down at your lap.
There was indeed a huge difference in the way you dressed. No, not because you were opposite genders. It was the quality of the clothing that was the subject. You wore rich linen while he wore old rags. Every time you met, you were wearing something different but he was wearing about the same thing. A top his head was a small hat, something he always wore and most common for steerage.
"Horrible. Pure dread fills me every time I have to sit through discussion at the dinning table." You said, dramatically rolling your eyes. Q laughed, "Damn you richies."
You both laughed, simultaneously looking own at your own laps. Then you glanced up at the same time, eyes meeting. You slid your hand through the bars, reaching out for Q's own hand. He read your expression and took hold of your hand, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. You both smiled and you leaned your head against the bars with a sigh.