Theoccasionaltrigger sauntered into Q-Branch.
guaranteedinnovation:
“007.” Q barely glanced up from his work, a computer model of what looked like the bottom of a shoe. “What a surprise. Is there something you need, or are you simply here to stand around and exude a prickly demeanor?”
“Can I not do both?” James smirked as he walked up to Q’s workstation. “What are you working on?”
“So you do need something from me, then.” He sighed quietly, standing. “I am working on a shoe sole, 007. The shoes agents tend to wear do not make for good running shoes. Or climbing. Or... Fighting on top of trains, or whatever it is you get into.” He glanced down at Bond’s feet, then finally offered the agent a look. “The grips should keep you from sliding about more than necessary. But I assume you didn’t come here just to see what goodies we were cooking up.”













