Spencer

Sometimes a man had to be in the field. Sometimes you had to know when to pull a trigger...or not pull a trigger.

Or perhaps your only lead was a hard copy of an archived file that hadn't yet been digitized. In Bond's opinion, Q would have better at this, or at least had a more believable cover.

He was in a brown suit, for God's sake.

He stepped out of the offices and into the main lobby where he stopped at the desk to have his parking validated for the staff carpark.

A man walked by and Bond flashed him a smile that looked bright but never got close to his eyes.

Q

He'd returned the file now that they had what they needed. Bond picked up some of Q's favorite biscuits on the way home.

Bond was trying his best to give Q time and space, to not push him or hound him. He knew the man needed time. He simply wasn't the most gentle of people and feared he was going to make everything worse.

So.

Biscuits.

"Well, hello, darling. Are you starving to death? Wasting away?" he asked the cat that wound around his ankles the moment he stepped inside.