[Author's Note: PLEASE READ POINT 2 OR YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND THE STORY.]

POINT 1:
Hey; long time no see? I don't remember the last time I posted :/ I have WAY to many things going on at the moment, so I figured I'm going to work on one story from each fandom persistently, day in day out, and the rest I'll update when I feel like it. I'm sorry, I have lots of sh*t going on in my life right now and I feel slightly encumbered by the responsibilities. I'm going to post this as a chapter on all my multichapter fics. I will try my best to update at least two maybe three stories on each fandom at least once every fortnight (Two weeks) Thanks for your

POINT 2:
This story features a FICTIONAL backstory of Q that I HAVE MADE UP. IT IS NOT REAL. Right, now I've got that out the way on to the plot. Basically I guess you could kind of call this an alternate reality? I mean, it has the meeting of 007 and Q same as the one in Skyfall but Skyfall never happened, nor did Spectre so only the meeting will be referenced. This follows a story I have personally made up myself so if there's some loop holes, loose ends or things that make no sense either evidence wise or anything else, just remember this was written by a fifteen year old :) But as Q said "Age is no guarantee of efficiency"... but then again; "Youth is no guarantee of innovation" XD... If you don't understand what I just referenced then why are you here? GO watch the damn films.
ANYWAY I ramble. So the plot is: M got a twenty year old computer expert named Quinn Grey (Q. I made up a name...) out of something bad (Like a mafia but not a mafia, a group that inflicts those kinds of techniques) And she promises him she won't arrest him for anything he did whilst in that group as long as he agrees to work for MI6, he agrees under one circumstance: Nobody knows the shady agreements upon which Q is working for MI6. No one likes Q (The reason why will become apparent) and he has to meet Bond, whom everyone is convinced will probably hate Q but Q is surprisingly tough and has found several reasons why Bond should be scraping for his approval. The rest I'm sure you can figure out for yourself :)

"I was sat, calmly sipping my tea and typing away on my computer. Minimal social distractions today, mainly due to the fact everybody hates me. I don't blame them to be completely honest, I mean; I'm twenty years old, sitting in a chair ninety percent of people in this very room have been training thirty years for. When M drags a kid in from the street to do this job... I can't fault them for being bitter. I didn't exactly want to be here either though... I really didn't have much of a choice. But enough about that! I picked up my mug and took a swig of tea, all whilst carrying on typing algorithms with my spare hand
"Good luck." wished another intern as he ambled idly past my desk, I didn't even dignify his statement with a glance away from my computer screen. I've been getting 'Good luck's all day, all because I'm meeting Agent James Bond. He's apparently a huge believer in the old school ways, something we don't particularly pay attention to these days, and many have warned me he may not 'take a shine' to me. I can deal with Agent Bond not liking me, but the real question is: Can James Bond deal with not liking me? I deal with all the tech-y stuff here, like tracking, hacking but most importantly I deal with equipment; Handling it, assigning it, even designing it and making it. He can't survive in the field without me.

Does James Bond know that?

I sure do.

I stared in the bathroom mirror. I'm not the most intimidating looking person to ever walk the earth. I mean, I'm tall yeah. But I'm skinny and about as muscle-y as a pipe cleaner. Untameable black hair that flops in every direction sits on my head. I was a not-so-proud owner of a pair of scrawny arms and legs that looked like they'd need assistance in lifting a sheet of paper. A black framed pair of glasses modestly cover two green eyes that I've been complimented on several times in my life. I run my fingers through my black hair, tousling it even more, as I let out a sigh

"Okay well... I guess I best be off..." I tell myself aloud... or I thought I was telling myself

"You know, James isn't as bad as everyone makes out he is." A voice sounded and I flinched, whipping my body around to face a woman. She had brown eyes equivalent to a calming shade of mahogany brown and her hair was short strands of harshly wavy hair down to her sharp jawline.

"Y- You know him?"

"Oh yeah, I'm the reason you two haven't met before... I got him into a little predicament which caused him to take a few weeks off work." She replied as she walked out of the slight shadows and towards me "Are you nervous about meeting him?" She asked me and I swallowed hard, trying to hide my fear so obviously unsuccessfully, there's a reason I'm the computer guy, and not out there resisting interrogations in the field.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said no?"

"No, I would not, Mr Quartermaster"

"Then, yeah. I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be." She reassured "I mean, sure he'll make some harsh quips about your age, and what ever equipment you're handing him, but it's extremely unlikely he'll reject you completely." She told me and I replied with one cynical sounding laugh

"'Extremely Unlikely' seems to be the probability I'm encountering today." She smiled warmly before stating:

"You'll be fine." She glanced at a rose gold Rolex on her wrist "You're going to be late.". I quickly glanced at my watch before turning back to the mirror. I ran my hand down my tie, flattening it and picked up the black metal box I needed to deliver to him from off of the counter next to the sinks.

"Thank you...?" I questioned, turning to the woman, indicating she should tell me her name

"Moneypenny, Eve Moneypenny and don't mention it, Q." She replied with a smile.