5 times James Bond asks Q his name. And, one time he doesn't.

1.

Six months after the Silva incident, as they were calling it, James Bond found himself sitting in the Quartermaster's office getting reprimanded for the missing guns, radios, microphones, cameras, etc. In all he found it very droll. The young Quartermaster's voice was stern and disappointed for show, but underneath there was a hint of humor, an inflection which made James smile.

"You've brought me back four Walthers out of the thirteen missions you have been on since my induction as Quartermaster. It may be a record, though I do not want it to be broken anytime soon. You do know I must make these guns right?"

James looked up at Q, a look of sheer boredom clear on his face.

"Well yes, I don't actually make them, but the point still stands. Would you instead like a gun on some sort of bungie? I could surgically attach it to your hand so that you never lose another."

"Could you really?" James asked, considering the option.

"No. All the test subjects I've employed for that one ended up with black eyes and broken wrists."

"Amateurs." James scoffed.

"Perhaps, but they have somehow always managed to bring back their equipment."

"Well bully for them." James rolled his eyes. "I'm not a child Q there is no need for this. Why am I here?"

Q ran a hand over his head and through his already messy hair. "M demanded it. Said you needed a talking too. Though, I am of the opinion that you do not take well to being chastised and that this conversation will only result in the loss of more of my precious equipment."

"I never lose things on purpose, Q." James teased.

"I am sure," he said with a light shake of his head and a small smiled graced on his lips.

One of the many phones on Q's desk rang, pulling him away from James. He answered with his name then waited and waited as the person on the other end spoke. James watched. He watched as Q's fingers flew over the keyboard that was hidden among phones, papers and more screens than he could count. Behind thick glasses bright eyes flittered from one screen to another. Q was messy, James noticed. He then came to the realization that he knew next to nothing about the Quartermaster. He knew the new M well enough, Moneypenny perhaps too well, Tanner and him were on good terms, and most of the other Double O's he knew, well maybe he had read all their files. But Q... he hardly knew Q at all. He only remembered Moneypenny saying Q was afraid of flying. He thought on it a bit, until Q set down his phone and rounded his desk to resume James' punishment.

"What is your name?"

Q froze for half a moment.

"I'm your Quartermaster 007." He narrowed his eyes at the blond. "Have you hit your head? Shall I alert medical?"

"No, you twit." James grumbled, earning a cheeky smile from Q. "Tell me your name."

"No." All traces of a smile fluttered away from the young mans face.

"Why not?" James asked thoroughly intrigued. "You know mine. It's only fair."

"Fairness is not a game I play well 007." Q said darkly.

"If I guess it will you tell me?" James said, trying to lighten the mood he had cast.

"No."

"What a mystery you are, Q." James settled back in his chair a daring grin playing on his mouth.

"Yes, a mystery indeed." Q agreed. "Now, back you your record loss of radios."