One
Bond strode confidently into his Quartermaster's new office and sat himself on the desk before Q had time to look up and object. Q was startled out of his objections by the amusing yet seductive pose of the secret agent leaning over his desk. He hadn't worked with James Bond for very long but he definitely knew from the missions that Bond loved women quite a bit. The few other times he had been on the receiving end of a softer version of Bond's illustrious "come hither" eyes he'd assumed that they were just left over remnants of a recent encounter with Moneypenny or some other woman around the place. However, Bond's current position did spark a certain amount of pondering on the ideals of the infamous James Bond's sexuality. Not wanting to betray anything to those piercing eyes, just in case, Q continued as normal.
"Can I help you, 007?"
"There are such a myriad of ways in which you can be of service to me, Quartermaster. This time however I was hoping for a new gun. I left mine on the tube."
"The tube? Isn't that a bit below a man of your obvious standards, 007?"
"I wasn't on it by my own choice, Q. I was chasing a suspect as you recall."
"I do recall, I just couldn't resist. You looked so ridiculous just sitting there. I'll get on to the gun thing as soon as possible."
Q began his work once again but look up again after a moment to see that Bond hadn't left, he had only moved into what Q just noticed to be an even more ridiculous seating position that accentuated his rather talked about and most likely best features. Figuring the game could go ahead, Q raised his eyebrow in a challenge.
"Still no chance of an exploding pen as well?" Bond pleaded lightly, with an answering smirk on his face.
"Maybe, if you play your cards right."
