[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.]
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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.]