A/N: I wrote this because by God it really needed to exist. And I was away for a while so I did a lot of thinking. This will be another multi-chapter thing. Expect more. Also I haven't seen every James Bond movie ever (just a few) so I did a tiny bit of research. If I'm wrong on things, sorry. Google is, strangely enough, not God.

I poked my head into the office, giving the secretary my best smile.
"Good morning Pip," I said. The feminine boy looked at me with a smile, standing and adjusting his cap.
"Good morning to you too!" he chirped. "I assume you're here to see Miss Wendy?" I nodded as he ran off to grab my boss. Pip returned with the woman I was expecting. I shook hands with her.
"Lovely to see you M," I said.
"And you, Bond," Wendy smiled, laughing softly. Years after the famous James Bond had retired, I, Gregory Thorne, picked up his title of 007. It was a running joke around the SIS office I frequented. I was Bond, Wendy was M, and Pip was our Miss Moneypenny. We even had someone with gadget knowledge as vast as Q. He was a good friend of mine.
"I'm guessing you want to know why I asked you to come here," Wendy said, getting right to the point. Her British accent was very faint, making her American born background evident. It was strange to work with someone who wasn't a native Brit, much less take orders from them, but Wendy was rather intelligent. And she was a legal citizen thanks to her mother's London roots. I nodded to her, and she gestured for me to sit with her in her office. Pip gave us a little wave as we left.
XXX
Wendy rifled through her desk until she found a file and handed it to me.
"What might this be Ms. Testaburger?" I asked, opening the manila folder.
"Your next mission," Wendy said, sitting. Inside the file was information and documents. I skimmed over the pages and caught a few key phrases. International, drug cartel, murder, wanted. Recently emptied the Airdrie Savings Bank.
"This seems a little too tame for us to be caring, let alone sending me into the field," I said.
"You would think so," Wendy said, "but take a look through the whole folder." I did as she said, and realized- no pictures.
"A faceless criminal," I commented. Wendy confirmed with a nod.
"And a skilled one at that. From what we can tell, the boss calls himself 'Le Mole'."
"A French rouge I see."
"Yes, most likely." Wendy stood and pointed to one of the pages. "This account right here was the closest we got to even seeing him. However, the man who testified said he was whacked in the face with a shovel and suffered from amnesia. All he remembered was that it was a tall, fairly fit man with brunette hair."
"Perfect," I said. "I'll just gather the billions of men who fit that description and chose one."
"Don't forget that he's most likely French."
"Hundreds of thousands then." I sighed, my eyebrows creasing just slightly. "What a terrible boss you are M. Don't you have any leads for me?"
"Don't start underestimating me yet," Wendy laughed. "We've gotten word that this Le Mole, or at least one of his men, will be attending a party off the coast of Spain tomorrow evening. It's being hosted by Token Black, an old friend of mine. They plan to rob and kill or capture him sometime during the party. His family is loaded with old money. I want you to attend the party and try to stop this, as well as capture whoever the cartel sent." Wendy handed me two smaller, thicker slips of paper- an invitation and a plane ticket. I smiled to her and pocketed them inside my jacket.
"No need to worry about your mate Wendy," I said, standing. "I'll watch out for him." We shook hands again before I left her office. I saw Pip packing his things.
"Leaving early?" I asked. He looked at me and seemed embarrassed to be caught.
"Well, I actually have a date," Pip said, blushing faintly. "And he's not the type of chap who likes being kept waiting." I laughed. So Pip swung that way. I had always suspected, but never asked. Not that it was a problem- I respected homosexuals, and the ones I knew always dressed so nicely.
"I won't keep you here long then," I promised. "Would you just tell our Q that I'll need a few things and be picking them up soon?"
"Righto Gregory," said Pip. "I'll do that right now." He sat at his computer and started to type an email. "If I may ask, where are you going?"
"Spain," I replied. "I'm off to catch a mole."
"Le Mole? Oh yes, I've heard of him." Pip finished and hit send. "I wish you luck if I don't get to see you before you leave. But I know you'll be alright." He placed a friendly hand on my shoulder and left. As he was leaving, I heard his phone ring. He answered it.
"Hello?.. Oh! Righto love, I'm sorry. Just a little business I had to finish up." Pip's voice grew fainter as he walked down the hall. He said the name of his lover as he left, but I wasn't sure if I had quite caught it. I'll have to ask him later, I thought.
XXX
Strangely, the head of the Q Division was about three years younger than me. It certainly showed often. I looked over his shoulder from the open doorway at his laptop screen. It was playing that odd game Minecraft. The Q to my Bond was sitting there, headphones on, and moving his character around to do… I don't know. There wasn't really an objective to the game as far as I knew. I knocked loudly on the doorframe. He jumped to close the game window and pull his headphones off.
"I-I swear, I wasn't doing anything wrong!" He was soft-spoken and shaky until he turned around. "Oh." His voice took on its normal thick Cockney accent. "Jus' you."
"Just me?" I raised an eyebrow. "Watch your tongue Corey Lanskin. I could still get you fired."
"Yeah, but you's not gonna do it." Corey stood to meet me. "'Ello mister Bond."
"What have you prepared for me Q?" I said. "I assume you got our lovely Moneypenny's email."
"'Course I did. I don't bloody fool around all the time." Corey walked around the corner and came back with a metallic case and lollipop in his mouth.
"What's with the candy?" I scoffed, earning a glare from Corey.
"It's supposed to be 'elp for someone getting over a smoking addiction," he said, sitting at his desk to open the case.
"I've never seen you smoke," I said in confusion.
"I's never touched a cigarette in my life," Corey said, chuckling. "A bloke can treat 'imself to a lolly everyone now and then, can't 'e?" He brought out the first gadget from the case and held it up. It was a tiny, nearly paper-thin chip that could be easily hidden in the lining of my suit cuffs or underneath my shirt collar. I recognized it instantly- a signaling device.
"Jus' the usual thing," Corey shrugged. "Activate it or get it destroyed, we come get you."
"I don't know why you keep giving me this," I murmured, pocketing the device. "I never use it."
"We's just trying to be cautious is all," Corey retorted. "Your ego needs to take a few steps back." I rolled my eyes, but I stayed quiet. Corey continued.
"You's also got a master lock-picking set and this little thing." He handed me a small compact disc that looked like a strange metal spider when he pressed the button in the middle. "Stick on any door locked with a pass code and this'll open it right up. Made it myself." Corey's chest puffed up with pride. "It'll work. Now, for your gun…" He pulled out a Walther PPK 7.65mm. It took a lot of willpower to not laugh or smack him.
"Really Corey?" I sighed. "By God, I swear, at times, no one realizes that I'm not actually James Bond."
"That's a nice gun and in mint condition," Corey frowned. "You's ought to be thanking me! Wha', you want a Beretta 418 instead?"
"This'll do Corey," I said, tucking the gun in a holster around my waist.
"You's still got the tracking device?" Corey asked. I nodded and pointed to the back left corner of my mouth. He had installed a fake tooth with the tracker in the bottom row where my wisdom teeth used to be. It had yet to be of use. As always, before I left, Corey gave me a hug.
"You's gonna be careful out there, right?" he asked.
"Of course," I promised. It was at times like this that I could really tell he was just a kid. We both gave each other a small squeeze before letting go.
"Now go back to your 'Minedraft' or whatever it's called," I smirked, butchering the name on purpose. Corey hit my shoulder, but grinned.
"Bloody wanker. Get out o' my office." He playfully shoved me to the door. Before I was truly gone, Corey called again. "Gregory?" I turned, and saw something that looked like genuine concern on his face. "I heard you's facing off with Le Mole. So uh… really, actually be careful. Please."
"The French don't concern me," I smiled. "God save the Queen right?"
"Yeah." Corey smiled, but it seemed to waver. "God save the Queen."

A/N: Reviews please! Also, Corey? Freakin' love that boy. He needs more love. Coregstophe is my OT3. Go on. Go show Corey love.