"You do realise I don't live at MI6, don't you? I do, in fact, have a social life. It is Friday night and I am just going out, so make it quick." Q stood in the doorway to his flat and waited for Bond to stop gawping. Q knew he looked completely different from how he did at work, but it was the start of the weekend and he was damn well going to enjoy it.

"Erm. Yes. M wanted me to drop this file off for you to look at before your weekly meeting on Monday morning. I'll just be, um, off then." Q raised an eyebrow at Bond. The man never stumbled over his words. He was usually well put together and well spoken. Q wished he'd got that on record. James Bond, world class smooth talker, was stumbling over his words. It was laughable really.

"Fine, fine. I'll be sure to look over it before Monday. Now kindly remove yourself from my doorway, I have places to be." As Q took a step forward, Bond took a few steps back, wary of the young Quartermaster. Q turned back from locking the door and an easy smile fell across his lips. "Goodnight 007."

Bond watched Q walk to the lift. He studied the way his black jeans fit his slim frame. He'd expected to find Q still wearing the clothes he'd been wearing at work that day, mug of Earl Grey in his hand and his laptop sitting on the sofa, awaiting his return. He certainly hadn't been expecting what had appeared.

Q had been wearing a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black skinny jeans, black and white converse, a white tie and white braces. He'd removed his glasses and put in contacts, rimmed his eyes with a thin line of eyeliner, mussed his hair to a perfect level of messy that implied sex-hair and topped it with a white banded fedora. His left wrist was circled by a wide leather band with a watch face attached; his right wrist was circled by a wide studded leather band.

Bond had seen people dressed like this before but had never thought he'd find it as frustrating sexy as he did; and then he'd stumbled over her words like a fool. He had a problem.