A/N: This was the product of sleepless nights, long chats with my wonderful beta, and a lot of chocolate. (The fact that we're doing Neverwhere at school at the moment isn't anything to do with it. At all.)

I'm sorry and I know I should be writing more in the Holmes Q'bd series, it is coming, it really is. I have just hit a momentary snag.

Beta-ed by wordonawing, goddess that she is.

I do not own Skyfall or any of the Bond series. This story will contain slash.

"No, that is not - you know what, never mind. Just - " Q pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why don't you go and see if the costume department need any help, okay?"

He scowled as the man trotted off. Incompetents, all of them. He was surrounded by incompetents. When he first became stage manager, he hadn't realised this was what it was going to be like, with people claiming to be experienced not even knowing what the flies were or some other such nonsense. And the actors were even more annoying, if that were at all possible. Could they ever just do as they were told?

"Trouble, Q? That tech nearly fell off the bridge he was going so fast."

"Oh how terrible for him. Serves him right for mucking up the settings. Now we have to program them all in again."

M settled down in Q's swivel chair, crossing her legs and handing him a folder. He didn't take it, not yet. That could be seen as acceptance of whatever M was trying to get him to undertake. "We're doing a new play."

"Alright…" He started to tentatively reach out. "When's the performance?"

"March." Q snatched his hand back.

"That's ridiculous."

"Yes."

"Utterly insane."

"Indeed."

"There's no way we could put anything decent together in that amount of time."

She pursed her lips and gazed implacably at him. "That, my dear Q, remains to be seen." He licked his lips and cast his eyes around the room, searching for some sort of excuse, before slumping and looking mournfully at his director.

"I'm not really going to be getting a choice in this, am I?" That was the smile of the devil, he was sure. If it could even be called a smile. "Not really, no."

Q sighed. Might as well get on with it, if they had this little time. He reached out to take the folder. "What play are we going to be doing, then?" M smirked.

"Neverwhere. By Neil Gaiman."

This is only the prologue, as you may have gathered, and future chapters will hopefully be longer. Please review :)