Q watched with some sadistic satisfaction as James obeyed him, pulling the glass towards him and slurping at it. Not really gracefully, but Q wasn't expecting dinner and a show right now. He crossed his arms over his chest, watching James' every move.
"On the contrary, James, I know that you're sitting in a bar drinking because you're a self-destructive arsehole who pushes away everything good that ever walks into your path and you think that if you drink it will make everything easier, but what I don't understand is why you're actually here, because the only person you've ever loved is on the island right now and you should be with them. And you're not. Because of the self-destructive thing. So are you just going to sit here and drink until you kill yourself and don't have to deal with your emotions? Or do you think you can pull yourself together long enough to actually make yourself happy?"
Q leant forward slightly, tapping his fingers close to the glass of water. "You're just on the wrong side of drunk to go and take that risk now. We'll try again tomorrow. It'll be okay."