Good. [He sits a little more easily, relaxing just a fraction in his spot on the floor.]
Miss Moneypenny was going to find you on the roof. I was packing up in the bunker. [His tone suggests that he was unsure which was the more odious task.] There were bricks everywhere. [It's clear that he blames this on you. They had had to repair the tube tunnels, of course, and cordon off the tunnels and hatches and escapes that Silva had known about and the dust. He was going to have to dismantle everything and clean it.]
Ah. Then we've caught up at last. Lachesis thought she'd rather piss me about for the last few months, I suppose. [He doesn't sound too happy about it, but has the sort of resignation reserved to a man who knows he can't do anything about it.]
Well, you're certainly not as quick as you used to be. [It's taken rather longer for him to catch up than Q would have liked. He doesn't mention it further than that, having no real reason or desire to bring up M or her choices.]
It's quite rude, for a machine. [They'd gotten into a bit of an altercation, Q and Lachesis, on the subject of his name, and he'd come away feeling rather poorly about its (her) disposition, and whoever had had the ill manners to create the stupid thing in the first place.] Though if I were an omnipotent machine, I might have done worse. [He sniffs, balancing the phone on his shoulder and untangling a mess of cables. James Bond was rather rude himself. In general.]
Now, are you going to be honest with me about this place, or are we going to have to play twenty questions and russian roulette again? [There's the distinctive series of clicks as Q unplugs a (now gloriously complete) gun from a skeleton computer and fits the pieces back in place.]
[James is carefully listening to all those little background sounds, sketching a picture in his mind of Q's current activities. It's something he's always done over the phone, just in case something sounds out of place, in case there's foreign sounds, in case there's strain in Q's voice, in case there's someone else there that shouldn't be. Paranoia is something every agent gets used to in time.]
I know you now. [Said with a slight duh tone, as if it's obvious he's going to be better behaved now.] I'll answer what I can, but I don't know what help I can be.
Good. [He stretches, feeling vertebrae pop in place.] I've just finished a Walther [not your Walther] and it would have been a shame if I'd had to get it dirty so quickly. [Some people were nervous eaters. Q was a nervous gunsmith. Not that he'd been nervous, but he doesn't like to loose track of things.]
I'll want to compare notes as soon as possible. [And his notes are considerable. Obviously not over the phone, and certainly not over this phone, odious little thing that it is, but soon.]
Of course you will. [Hopefully these are metaphorical notes, because Bond doesn't believe in writing anything down... He does, however, believe in guns, like really useful palm coded Walthers. He wouldn't mind one of those again, even if his previous one lasted him all of a few days. It saved his ass though.]
[Bond pls. Q doesn't expect miracles, only co-operation.
And he'll have to be Very Good to receive another one of these -- it's currently coded to Q's palm and he doesn't feel particularly like wandering around this alien place unarmed. He's quite thin, you know.]
I'm a genius, not a magician. [He looks at the skeleton system he'd cobbled together in what was supposed to be the living room of his courtesy flat.] I diverted some of your funds and built a baseline operating system, but it's... conservative.
and by tues night i totally meant like early hours of wed morning. whatever :|
[In that case, Bond will just have to be on his very best behaviour if he wants that sort of Christmas present.
And despite himself, the comment about his funds has him smiling to himself, although it barely reaches to his voice.]
Divert more. We need to get you up and running. [There's determination and perhaps the slightest bit of urgency. He doesn't need to say money is not an object, but the suggestion is there, there is, after all, far more stashed away than what his banks suggest.] Whatever you need to get yourself back on your feet, get it. Eve has just showed up. That's two of you in a month. It won't take much for the Porter to start giving us unwanted company. ['Like Silva', he doesn't say.]
[He'll have to be on his very best behavior if he wants any sort of Christmas present at all.]
Moneypenny? [Moneypenny arrived and Bond knew about it before he did? This wouldn't do at all. He felt absolutely no remorse funneling money from Bond's accounts, and would have been more liberal with his embezzlement if he hadn't been concerned for how previous Bond might take it rather personally. Unfortunately, one needed capital to set oneself up in an inconspicuous manner, particularly when there was a hateful AI involved, and so Q had only been able to equip himself with the basics.]
Of course. [He's already thirteen steps ahead in his mind, planning what will need to be done. He'll need to move his computer(s) to a secure location, of course, and set himself up to properly equip both Bond and Moneypenny. Programs needed to be created and tailored, databases set up, obtuse security enacted. It was like being at University all over again.]
Collect yourselves and meet me immediately. Though it galls me, I'll need your input while setting everything up. [If Silva were to arrive, he'd be ready.]
[James already knew there'd be more needed than a single PC sitting in Q's room. He had places. Warehouses, garages, one or two spare safe houses set up that might do the trick. It was just a case of finding a secure location for it to stay. Damn shame they couldn't get into England any more, his underground office there would have been perfect.]
Q... [Said with an ever suffering sigh (that manages to keep a tone of amusement) as he spares a glance down at his watch. The kid is eager, he'll give him that.] We'll get arranged later this morning. I'll take you out to a few locations, see if any of them take your fancy.
[It's not so much a matter of being eager as it is one of necessity. As far as Q is concerned, their situation here counts as a crisis of the highest level. The destructive potential for everything about this place is catastrophic, and he's never much cared for puttering around. He was trained for this. Well, not this exactly, but crises. And 00s.
He needs to contact Moneypenny directly.]
Sort your affairs quickly, then. [He's going to need to asses how much of a hinderance the life Bond's cultivated here in The City is going to prove to be and plan accordingly. Having Eve newly arrived is fortuitous, in a way.] And bring me a fresh tin of tea when you come. [Q is going to collapse on a horizontal surface and pass out; relief really took it out of a person, and the sleepless nights he's racked up lost in wires are not treating him kindly.]
[What Q deems a crisis is just another day in the life of Bond. He's cranked up well over a thousand days in this city, some more disastrous than the next, but beyond the super powers and the multi-universe concepts, it's really not been much different from home. Enough so that he really thinks setting up a base for his Quartermaster can wait until a more suitable hour.]
Earl grey? [Coffee may be his choice, but he still has plenty of good imported British food stuff kicking around.]
[Q doesn't even bat an eye, though he does honestly hope she gets some rest. Regardless of where in time she comes from, this sort of scenario is traumatizing at the very least.] I'm sure nothing I can do will be nearly as disturbing as arriving here in the first place. [Drily. He's already made contact, mostly because it's polite.] Does she have anything with her? [He's looking down at the gun on the table, wondering how quickly he could build two more. Maybe he could get his hands on an arms dealer and simply retrofit them with pretty clothes rather than building them from the motherboard up...]
[He won't be surprised if Q's already making contact, but really, he expects it from the kid.]
Just the essentials. Last thing she remembers is our little visit to Macau. [Where Bond lost his gun after owning it for all of two seconds, but where they were both equipped enough to at least survive on the field.] So try not to give the game away too much. I'll come pick you up later, get you sorted. I'll share as many contacts as I can. [At least half of which won't be in the slightest bit legal. Arms dealers, drug dealers, moles, rats, corrupt cops, you name it, he knows them.]
[He has, of course, though somehow a dinner jacket became involved, and that's rather not his style.]
Yes, where you fed your gun to a komodo dragon. [He remembers.] I'll tell her what she needs to know. [He's not making any promises. He doesn't, however, see a whole lot of point in explaining to her the course of events she has yet to experience, if that's what Bond means.]
Good. We can continue this conversation then. [He'll roll up his wires and sleep for a bit in the meantime. There will be time later to work out what exactly they should be doing. Without the impetus of trying to reach MI6, Q will be rather at a loss for what to do. He'll want to gather information, of course, predominately on the Porter, but. No, he needs to sleep. His brain is no longer functioning within optimal parameters.] Good night, 007.
[It's funny how Bond is one of the few agents who can mention battling in a pit of komodo dragon's on his report and no one will even bother questioning the validity of it.]
Good night, Q. Try not to fall asleep at that computer of yours. [As for Bond, he's already settled in for the night ready for some well needed sleep. Porting in really can leave one exhausted.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Good to hear you too.
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I was beginning to think your knees were going to give out before you got everything sorted. [All the vomiting and such.]
[A beat.]
Is it finished, then? [He assumes that if it is, Bond will know what he means. Silva, M -- all of it.]
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What's the last thing you remember?
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Miss Moneypenny was going to find you on the roof. I was packing up in the bunker. [His tone suggests that he was unsure which was the more odious task.] There were bricks everywhere. [It's clear that he blames this on you. They had had to repair the tube tunnels, of course, and cordon off the tunnels and hatches and escapes that Silva had known about and the dust. He was going to have to dismantle everything and clean it.]
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It's quite rude, for a machine. [They'd gotten into a bit of an altercation, Q and Lachesis, on the subject of his name, and he'd come away feeling rather poorly about its (her) disposition, and whoever had had the ill manners to create the stupid thing in the first place.] Though if I were an omnipotent machine, I might have done worse. [He sniffs, balancing the phone on his shoulder and untangling a mess of cables. James Bond was rather rude himself. In general.]
Now, are you going to be honest with me about this place, or are we going to have to play twenty questions and russian roulette again? [There's the distinctive series of clicks as Q unplugs a (now gloriously complete) gun from a skeleton computer and fits the pieces back in place.]
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I know you now. [Said with a slight duh tone, as if it's obvious he's going to be better behaved now.] I'll answer what I can, but I don't know what help I can be.
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I'll want to compare notes as soon as possible. [And his notes are considerable. Obviously not over the phone, and certainly not over this phone, odious little thing that it is, but soon.]
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What's the computer situation like for you, Q?
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And he'll have to be Very Good to receive another one of these -- it's currently coded to Q's palm and he doesn't feel particularly like wandering around this alien place unarmed. He's quite thin, you know.]
I'm a genius, not a magician. [He looks at the skeleton system he'd cobbled together in what was supposed to be the living room of his courtesy flat.] I diverted some of your funds and built a baseline operating system, but it's... conservative.
and by tues night i totally meant like early hours of wed morning. whatever :|
And despite himself, the comment about his funds has him smiling to himself, although it barely reaches to his voice.]
Divert more. We need to get you up and running. [There's determination and perhaps the slightest bit of urgency. He doesn't need to say money is not an object, but the suggestion is there, there is, after all, far more stashed away than what his banks suggest.] Whatever you need to get yourself back on your feet, get it. Eve has just showed up. That's two of you in a month. It won't take much for the Porter to start giving us unwanted company. ['Like Silva', he doesn't say.]
Naturally. u//v//u
Moneypenny? [Moneypenny arrived and Bond knew about it before he did? This wouldn't do at all. He felt absolutely no remorse funneling money from Bond's accounts, and would have been more liberal with his embezzlement if he hadn't been concerned for how previous Bond might take it rather personally. Unfortunately, one needed capital to set oneself up in an inconspicuous manner, particularly when there was a hateful AI involved, and so Q had only been able to equip himself with the basics.]
Of course. [He's already thirteen steps ahead in his mind, planning what will need to be done. He'll need to move his computer(s) to a secure location, of course, and set himself up to properly equip both Bond and Moneypenny. Programs needed to be created and tailored, databases set up, obtuse security enacted. It was like being at University all over again.]
Collect yourselves and meet me immediately. Though it galls me, I'll need your input while setting everything up. [If Silva were to arrive, he'd be ready.]
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Q... [Said with an ever suffering sigh (that manages to keep a tone of amusement) as he spares a glance down at his watch. The kid is eager, he'll give him that.] We'll get arranged later this morning. I'll take you out to a few locations, see if any of them take your fancy.
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He needs to contact Moneypenny directly.]
Sort your affairs quickly, then. [He's going to need to asses how much of a hinderance the life Bond's cultivated here in The City is going to prove to be and plan accordingly. Having Eve newly arrived is fortuitous, in a way.] And bring me a fresh tin of tea when you come. [Q is going to collapse on a horizontal surface and pass out; relief really took it out of a person, and the sleepless nights he's racked up lost in wires are not treating him kindly.]
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Earl grey? [Coffee may be his choice, but he still has plenty of good imported British food stuff kicking around.]
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Yes. And if it's not the best tea I've tasted in a very long time, you'll be quite repentant by the time you leave.
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[Beat.]
And try not to disturb Eve too soon, she's at my place, and hopefully trying to sleep. [Make of that what you will, Q.]
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Just the essentials. Last thing she remembers is our little visit to Macau. [Where Bond lost his gun after owning it for all of two seconds, but where they were both equipped enough to at least survive on the field.] So try not to give the game away too much. I'll come pick you up later, get you sorted. I'll share as many contacts as I can. [At least half of which won't be in the slightest bit legal. Arms dealers, drug dealers, moles, rats, corrupt cops, you name it, he knows them.]
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Yes, where you fed your gun to a komodo dragon. [He remembers.] I'll tell her what she needs to know. [He's not making any promises. He doesn't, however, see a whole lot of point in explaining to her the course of events she has yet to experience, if that's what Bond means.]
Good. We can continue this conversation then. [He'll roll up his wires and sleep for a bit in the meantime. There will be time later to work out what exactly they should be doing. Without the impetus of trying to reach MI6, Q will be rather at a loss for what to do. He'll want to gather information, of course, predominately on the Porter, but. No, he needs to sleep. His brain is no longer functioning within optimal parameters.] Good night, 007.
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Good night, Q. Try not to fall asleep at that computer of yours. [As for Bond, he's already settled in for the night ready for some well needed sleep. Porting in really can leave one exhausted.]