Q lay slumped at his desk. Images flashed across the screens above him, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he preferred to lightly hit his head against his desk.

“There you are 007. He’s been like that for ages.”

“Moneypenny. What makes you think that I can help?”

“Well, 007, he only seems to respond to you.”

“Ludicrous,” Bond muttered. He walked over to Q, aware of the staring eyes of Q-Branch boring into his back like the eyes of a sniper trained on their target.

“Q,” he whispered awkwardly, “Your department needs you.”

“Mhm.”

“Q, you are an agent at MI6, get your act together.”

Q slowly lifted his head. His eyes were huge and watery and his glasses had slipped down his nose. It made Bond very uncomfortable to see Q in such a state.

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