AN: Don't worry, I'm working on my other fics, this I just did in my free time at school and it's for gigglingmisfit on tumblr who this is dedicated to (not related to any past Bond stories). Oh, and the Old Q here I imagine as Desmond Llewelyn's Q. If you haven't seen the old Bond films with him in it you should, he is quite excellent ^^.
It was around two in the morning and Q was exhausted. His glasses just barely hid his red eyes and his cloths stank from not being home in three days. He unlocked the door to his flat and was met with the darkness. He flicked the light switch but the dark just stayed.
"Great, just great," muttered Q. He debated talking to his landlord right now but decided that everyone would be in a much better and agreeable mood in the morning.
So, Q closed the door and was just then placing his bag on the ground when out of know where something twisted around his legs, making him off balance and causing him to fall to the floor. He yelled out in pain as his head hit the ground when suddenly a light was shown in his face.
At first, Q couldn't tell who was behind it because the sudden brightness forced him to shield his eyes but once his eyes became adjusted, Q yelled out, "Grandfather! You should be in bed!"
"I'm your grandfather not your son so don't chide me like a child. Besides, I was in bed but when you called saying you'd be home I thought I might surprise you."
"I'll take it that the lack of lighting is your doing too then?"
"Yes, just turned off the breaker. Hold on I'll be right back."
A few minutes later the lights in the flat were on and in front of Q was his grandfather holding a strange looking weapon that Q just knew the old man must have invented in his spare time.
"I told you to stop testing those things on me. How would you feel if I decided to test some new laser technology on you?"
"I'd probably do the same to you Andrew, and better I might add," his grandfather replied with a small triumphant smile.
"I also told you to stop calling me Andrew. It's just Q."
"I'm your grandfather, your name is Andrew, and I will call you that. I mean, what if I made you call me Q as well? Then we'd just get confused and confuse everyone else in the process."
Q sighed in annoyance and was trying to untangle himself when he yelped in pain, his hand coming away from the rope that was around his ankles. "What is this made out of?"
"Oh it's just regular rope but there are hundreds of needles sticking out of it making it nearly impossible to take off without serious damage to the hands."
"Well I hope that you've come up with a way to get it off and not permanently damage a limb."
"Oh course, it's called thick gloves," his grandfather said in a voice that clearly showed he thought Q should've known that and Q couldn't help but shake his head in response.
"Between you and 007 I'm surprised I haven't had a heart attack by now," Q muttered when the rope was finally off, his pants now ruined he might add.
"I'm guessing he destroyed more of your precious inventions," the grandfather said with a knowing sigh. "I'm still surprised he's not related to my 007 when I worked for MI6. I swear; he could've been Bond's grandfather."
"Oh he's not. I already checked," Q replied with a small tired laugh.
"Of course you have," replied his grandfather with a small smile. "I must say, you are better than I am with all that computer tech. Did you hack in to his files?"
"No!" yelled Q. "I simply asked him thank you very much."
His grandfather looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"But I could've hacked into the system if I had wanted to," he added, arms crossed.
His grandfather simply shook his head in amusement, gesturing for him to come into the small sitting room they had. "Come on, I made you breakfast. I thought you might need it after living on caffeine for three days."
"Grandfather it's two in the morning, not exactly the best time for breakfast."
"Yes, but I know you. You'll go to bed Andrew Quinn, sleep for nearly twenty-four hours and then disappear to work for anywhere between a few days and three weeks."
"It's Q," murmured the quartermaster under his breath, knowing full well that his words were wasted on his grandfather. He really would've preferred to just go to bed but he knew that his grandfather would force him in some way shape or form to make him eat. Besides, he probably needed to eat something at the very least.
Q walked into the small sitting room, making his way to the couch and table that had several plates of food. "First off, I'm not starving myself," Q muttered with a sniff of annoyance, "and second of all, I wouldn't be able to eat all of this food anyway."
"Oh it's not all for you, about half of it is for me," replied his grandfather with a small smirk.
Shaking his head, he should've known he'd probably want to join him. "You know, you can go to bed if you need to."
"Humor an old man," replied his grandfather. "I rarely got to see you when you were a kid, missed your birth because 007 was getting himself blown up again and now you're in the same spot as me. My days are becoming numbered and I'd like to get to know my grandson a bit better during them."
"Please don't talk like that."
"You know just as well as me that people don't live forever Andrew," his grandfather responded. "Don't worry, I'm sure I have a few more years in this old body but I won't be able to stay forever."
"I know I know," muttered Q with a sigh, mentally deciding just to ignore the fact that he kept calling him by his name. "I'd still like you to meet Bond though at some point. He is absolutely reckless and sometimes I think he likes getting nearly blown up but he's a good man and a good friend."
"So he doesn't think you're to young."
"Oh he's voiced his opinion about my age plenty of times but I've proven to him that I can handle anything thrown my way," replied Q with a small laugh.
"I'm sure you have. You're related to me after all," his grandfather said, not a hint of sarcasm or smugness in his voice. He said it more like it was an actual fact if anything.
Q just shook his head in amusement as he picked up one of plates and began eating his very early breakfast.
