Prologue
Years later, in a nearly empty part of the National Gallery, a blonde man with piercing blue eyes sits in a crisp suit, looking at the painting of a ship being towed away for scrap. He's waiting, being told his new Quartermaster would meet him here with the things that he needs. His mind drifts back almost twenty years to a mop of curly brunette hair, and intelligent green eyes. To the soft, scolding tones that usually just haunt him in his dreams. He doesn't regret his decisions and most of the time he can put it out of his mind, but in the quiet times like this, he finds old memories resurfacing.
Knowing exactly who he is looking for before the meeting, the newly christened Q has gotten time to get used to the fact that this dangerous and impetuous agent he's supposed to outfit is the boy he once knew, and the boy that he loved. He's gone through his service record and everything, seeing his tendency to sleep around and drink too much, narrowly missing scolding the absent agent when he was reading the file. Now, he stops in the doorway briefly as he sees the man before him, breath catching in his throat before he takes a deep breath and steps forward, slowly sitting down beside Bond with a faintly amused expression.
"Always makes me feel a bit melancholy. A grand old war ship, being ignominiously hauled away for scrap. The inevitability of time, don't you think? What do you see?" Q asks calmly as he looks at the painting, resisting the urge to look over at the agent next to him.
A glance is given from Bond over to the young man who sits next to him, and he recognizes the boy immediately. He's not sure if he's recognized in turn, but he knows that this is not good and that he needs to leave before this gets complicated, so he goes for a gruff tone. "A bloody big ship. Excuse me." he says before he starts to get up, only hesitating when he hears the next words.
"007. I'm your new Quartermaster." Q says to keep Bond from moving away, finally looking over at him and pinning him with a look before slowly looking back at the painting.
James stares at the younger man ext to him, wondering how he is going to deal professionally with the genius who will recognize him sooner rather than later, and who will be in control of his life possibly and definitely his armaments. And he's not even sure what the emotional fallout will be. "You must be joking."
There's a little teaser prologue for you. :D They meet again! And things could be the same or different. Thank you all for reading this, I may or may not continue in the future, not sure yet.
Thank you, you wonderful people, for everything!