Well, you gave it your best shot. That was hardly my best shot. I’m not sure I could survive your best. I doubt you’ll get the chance.

SKYFALL (2012) dir. Sam Mendes

Reblog this if you like seeing me on your dash

Skyfall

Inspired by this post from Totallycorrectbondquotes

“Keep an eye out.. there could be more lurking in the shadows…”

I think this deserves a reblog

“I use every item the agents come back with. Usually local tea blends but cups and other stuff as well.” He smiled softly at James as he followed the man with his eyes. “Why would I change that when it comes to you?”

Letting the calm silence fall between them Q lightly blew on the warm infused water and took a small sip before Bond spoke again. “I’m glad you stopped by. I really did worry you might have died from old age.”

Perhaps James had mellowed in the years since his last 00 outing. There was a displaced feeling of warmth in knowing that such a basic gift could be cherished and enjoyed by someone in a meaningful manner. It seemed so grounded in normality, something that was always lacking from his life.

"And you've still got spots," James retorted in shrouded amusement, lastly breaking a smirk towards the younger man. "Why don't we have a drink, Q? For old times sake.."

Q scoffed at the other but he couldn’t hide the small smile forming on his lips. “If you say so.” He muttered taking a sip of his tea as he rested a hand on the counter leaning back against it.

“I don’t drink.” He repeated himself. “But if you manage to convince me you will be responsible for whatever might happen.” He warned the ex agent shooting him a glance.

"Oh, you know me, Q. I can be very persuasive."

From what could only be described as a well-traveled leather satchel the agent goes on to produce a rare bottle of vintage Scottish whiskey; Dunglass, circa 1967.

"I don't expect you to appreciate this, however I would consider this a special occasion." James shoots an amused glance at the quartermaster as he places the bottle down, the brilliant amber liquid almost glowing from within its glass confines.

"The very fact I now know you live in an actual apartment and not the workshop at HQ is cause for a bloody celebration in of itself."

“I’d like to see you try.” The young quartermaster smirked.

Standing in the dim lit kitchen Q sipped at his tea as his eyes followed the ex agent around. He raised an eyebrow seeing the bottle. “I don’t appreciate Scotch.” He said calmly. “Not to break the mood.”

He put down the cup and found a small glass for James. Only James. “Just because I work a lot doesn’t mean I don’t have an actual place to stay.” Q scoffed softly.

"You're permanent fixture in that bloody basement and you know it."

The young quartermaster was of course painfully polite in his refusal to partake in a libation or two, a sentiment backed up by the placement of the solitary glass upon the table before the bemused 007.

James was of course stubborn to the end as Q was soon to be reminded. With extended arm the ex-agent moved to reach into the same cupboard and produce a second identical drinking vessel.

"Live a little, Q." Bond smirked, thrusting the bottle of vintage whiskey into the younger mans hand. "You can do the honours."

Q simply scoffed at the comment. “It’s not like you’ve been around to check up on me.” He grumbled.

As Bond moved into his personal space to grab another glass for Q, the quartermaster sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not drinking Bond.” He reminded the ex agent knowing he wouldn’t get his way.

When he is handed the bottle Q simply poured up in one glass before setting it down making it clear for Bond that he definitely wasn’t drinking. He had his tea and that would be enough.

Somewhat pensively the ex-agent watched on as Q poured a precise measure into a single glass, the bottle set down thereafter almost in exclamation - or a challenge - to the finality in his refusal to share a drink.

"Stubborn as always Q," Bond quipped with a shake of his head. "You seem to have forgotten my - what was it M said in the report? ‘Dogged determination in the field of duty’..."

The agent pressed on, masking his amusement as he poured another measure into the second vessel. "So this evening you're going to share a drink with me even if I have to pour that bloody tea down the sink where it belongs."

“I use every item the agents come back with. Usually local tea blends but cups and other stuff as well.” He smiled softly at James as he followed the man with his eyes. “Why would I change that when it comes to you?”

Letting the calm silence fall between them Q lightly blew on the warm infused water and took a small sip before Bond spoke again. “I’m glad you stopped by. I really did worry you might have died from old age.”

Perhaps James had mellowed in the years since his last 00 outing. There was a displaced feeling of warmth in knowing that such a basic gift could be cherished and enjoyed by someone in a meaningful manner. It seemed so grounded in normality, something that was always lacking from his life.

"And you've still got spots," James retorted in shrouded amusement, lastly breaking a smirk towards the younger man. "Why don't we have a drink, Q? For old times sake.."

Q scoffed at the other but he couldn’t hide the small smile forming on his lips. “If you say so.” He muttered taking a sip of his tea as he rested a hand on the counter leaning back against it.

“I don’t drink.” He repeated himself. “But if you manage to convince me you will be responsible for whatever might happen.” He warned the ex agent shooting him a glance.

"Oh, you know me, Q. I can be very persuasive."

From what could only be described as a well-traveled leather satchel the agent goes on to produce a rare bottle of vintage Scottish whiskey; Dunglass, circa 1967.

"I don't expect you to appreciate this, however I would consider this a special occasion." James shoots an amused glance at the quartermaster as he places the bottle down, the brilliant amber liquid almost glowing from within its glass confines.

"The very fact I now know you live in an actual apartment and not the workshop at HQ is cause for a bloody celebration in of itself."

“I’d like to see you try.” The young quartermaster smirked.

Standing in the dim lit kitchen Q sipped at his tea as his eyes followed the ex agent around. He raised an eyebrow seeing the bottle. “I don’t appreciate Scotch.” He said calmly. “Not to break the mood.”

He put down the cup and found a small glass for James. Only James. “Just because I work a lot doesn’t mean I don’t have an actual place to stay.” Q scoffed softly.

"You're permanent fixture in that bloody basement and you know it."

The young quartermaster was of course painfully polite in his refusal to partake in a libation or two, a sentiment backed up by the placement of the solitary glass upon the table before the bemused 007.

James was of course stubborn to the end as Q was soon to be reminded. With extended arm the ex-agent moved to reach into the same cupboard and produce a second identical drinking vessel.

"Live a little, Q." Bond smirked, thrusting the bottle of vintage whiskey into the younger mans hand. "You can do the honours."

“I use every item the agents come back with. Usually local tea blends but cups and other stuff as well.” He smiled softly at James as he followed the man with his eyes. “Why would I change that when it comes to you?”

Letting the calm silence fall between them Q lightly blew on the warm infused water and took a small sip before Bond spoke again. “I’m glad you stopped by. I really did worry you might have died from old age.”

Perhaps James had mellowed in the years since his last 00 outing. There was a displaced feeling of warmth in knowing that such a basic gift could be cherished and enjoyed by someone in a meaningful manner. It seemed so grounded in normality, something that was always lacking from his life.

"And you've still got spots," James retorted in shrouded amusement, lastly breaking a smirk towards the younger man. "Why don't we have a drink, Q? For old times sake.."

Q scoffed at the other but he couldn’t hide the small smile forming on his lips. “If you say so.” He muttered taking a sip of his tea as he rested a hand on the counter leaning back against it.

“I don’t drink.” He repeated himself. “But if you manage to convince me you will be responsible for whatever might happen.” He warned the ex agent shooting him a glance.

"Oh, you know me, Q. I can be very persuasive."

From what could only be described as a well-traveled leather satchel the agent goes on to produce a rare bottle of vintage Scottish whiskey; Dunglass, circa 1967.

"I don't expect you to appreciate this, however I would consider this a special occasion." James shoots an amused glance at the quartermaster as he places the bottle down, the brilliant amber liquid almost glowing from within its glass confines.

"The very fact I now know you live in an actual apartment and not the workshop at HQ is cause for a bloody celebration in of itself."

semper-x-occultus​:

“Loosen up, like you?” Eyes boldly and briefly cast downwards just as he’s sitting down. Ah, yes. James was exceptionally loose this evening.

“Perhaps if you weren’t so intent on being inebriated, you might have remembered our utterly boring appointment in a certain someone’s office.” - She shrugs, sarcasm growing with every word. - ”You know, the one with the hidden door that…oh, I don’t know… might have something important behind it?”

That shit-eating grin was spread across his face. He took great enjoyment in her sarcasm and he rather liked the notion that she might be aware of this fact

"And I thought you wanted to visit after-hours to cut out the middle-man," James replied smoothly, taking care to finish what remained of his drink before at last standing, his gait surprisingly well-balanced, all things considered.

“I use every item the agents come back with. Usually local tea blends but cups and other stuff as well.” He smiled softly at James as he followed the man with his eyes. “Why would I change that when it comes to you?”

Letting the calm silence fall between them Q lightly blew on the warm infused water and took a small sip before Bond spoke again. “I’m glad you stopped by. I really did worry you might have died from old age.”

Perhaps James had mellowed in the years since his last 00 outing. There was a displaced feeling of warmth in knowing that such a basic gift could be cherished and enjoyed by someone in a meaningful manner. It seemed so grounded in normality, something that was always lacking from his life.

"And you've still got spots," James retorted in shrouded amusement, lastly breaking a smirk towards the younger man. "Why don't we have a drink, Q? For old times sake.."

“You sound disappointed.”

"Not nearly as disappointed as you look.."

“Who said anything about me being disappointed. You just stopped came running. But you’re here which means you need something. Come in and don’t touch anything.”

"What makes you think I need something?" Bond asks, casting a sidelong glance at the young Quartermaster. A fleeting moment of tension breaking into mild amusement as Bond does as instructed and follows on behind, touching nothing - for the time being.

“Because why else would you be here?” Q asked and stepped aside letting the other man into the small flat and closing the door behind him. Two cats, a calico and a white and blue ragdoll came running as soon as they heard company that wasn’t Q.

The flat appeared to be small but tastefully decorated, dark walls and ambient light flooding into the hallway from the drawing-room beyond as two cats came charging through leaving the door slightly ajar. "It's been a long time, Q," James began, glancing down at the cats curiously circling at his feet.

Calmly walking to the kitchen when he’d closed and locked the door behind him, he sat a kettle over to boil water for tea. “Sorry I don’t have any alcohol.” He spoke up enough for Bond to hear it. “So?” Q looked curiously in Bond’s direction. “Haven’t been a reason yet to come visit me.”

Several picture frames adorned the wall opposite which caught Bond's attention. Faces he, of course, didn't recognise, from years past, perhaps a graduation or even a family event, it wasn't obvious at first glance. "Of course," Bond replied, turning his attention towards the young quartermaster. "Do you ever drink, Q? Not a teetotaller are you?"

James felt the cats brush against his legs as they charged into the kitchen. It was a pleasant room, warm and welcoming. Organised shelves, everything in it's place. Exactly what he would expect of the young man. "I was in the area," Bond replied, sounding vague with regards to the situation.

Pictures hanging on the wall were university friends and their families since Q didn’t have any contact with his own and hadn’t had for many years. Not a tragic story or anything they just never weren’t present in the young man’s life. “I don’t drink no. Don’t like how it clouds my mind.”

As soon as the water started to boil Q poured two cups of tea handing one of the cups to Bond. “Recognise them?” He asked with a small smile. “It’s the cups you brought me back from Japan.”

"Bloody hell," James exclaimed, genuinely surprised by the appearance of the cups, a gift from many years prior. "So you weren't lying when you said you liked them.."

The agent pushed a smile at the younger man and propped himself back against the kitchen worktop, the steam from the tea hot against his face as he took a sip of the dark brew. "It’s been three years, Q,” James said after a moment of quiet. “I’m a ghost of the past to most..”

“You sound disappointed.”

"Not nearly as disappointed as you look.."

“Who said anything about me being disappointed. You just stopped came running. But you’re here which means you need something. Come in and don’t touch anything.”

"What makes you think I need something?" Bond asks, casting a sidelong glance at the young Quartermaster. A fleeting moment of tension breaking into mild amusement as Bond does as instructed and follows on behind, touching nothing - for the time being.

“Because why else would you be here?” Q asked and stepped aside letting the other man into the small flat and closing the door behind him. Two cats, a calico and a white and blue ragdoll came running as soon as they heard company that wasn’t Q.

The flat appeared to be small but tastefully decorated, dark walls and ambient light flooding into the hallway from the drawing-room beyond as two cats came charging through leaving the door slightly ajar. "It's been a long time, Q," James began, glancing down at the cats curiously circling at his feet.

Calmly walking to the kitchen when he’d closed and locked the door behind him, he sat a kettle over to boil water for tea. “Sorry I don’t have any alcohol.” He spoke up enough for Bond to hear it. “So?” Q looked curiously in Bond’s direction. “Haven’t been a reason yet to come visit me.”

Several picture frames adorned the wall opposite which caught Bond's attention. Faces he, of course, didn't recognise, from years past, perhaps a graduation or even a family event, it wasn't obvious at first glance. "Of course," Bond replied, turning his attention towards the young quartermaster. "Do you ever drink, Q? Not a teetotaller are you?"

James felt the cats brush against his legs as they charged into the kitchen. It was a pleasant room, warm and welcoming. Organised shelves, everything in it's place. Exactly what he would expect of the young man. "I was in the area," Bond replied, sounding vague with regards to the situation.

“You sound disappointed.”

"Not nearly as disappointed as you look.."

“Who said anything about me being disappointed. You just stopped came running. But you’re here which means you need something. Come in and don’t touch anything.”

"What makes you think I need something?" Bond asks, casting a sidelong glance at the young Quartermaster. A fleeting moment of tension breaking into mild amusement as Bond does as instructed and follows on behind, touching nothing - for the time being.

“Because why else would you be here?” Q asked and stepped aside letting the other man into the small flat and closing the door behind him. Two cats, a calico and a white and blue ragdoll came running as soon as they heard company that wasn’t Q.

The flat appeared to be small but tastefully decorated, dark walls and ambient light flooding into the hallway from the drawing-room beyond as two cats came charging through leaving the door slightly ajar. "It's been a long time, Q," James began, glancing down at the cats curiously circling at his feet.

“You sound disappointed.”

"Not nearly as disappointed as you look.."

“Who said anything about me being disappointed. You just stopped came running. But you’re here which means you need something. Come in and don’t touch anything.”

"What makes you think I need something?" Bond asks, casting a sidelong glance at the young Quartermaster. A fleeting moment of tension breaking into mild amusement as Bond does as instructed and follows on behind, touching nothing - for the time being.