Metal Made Flesh

The touch was light, exploratory, belying the true intent and capability of the man behind it.

Stalker. Provocateur. Killer.

Q laced his fingers beneath his chin and watched, allowing the tentative invasion of his equipment to continue unchecked.

Well. It had been a tough mission and he felt were he going to permit Bond an indulgence, now was as good a time as any.

Q couldn’t help but admire the way all his careful craft fit so perfectly in the palm of the agent.

Bond could mould himself to anyone, anything.

Q broke the spell. “007. Shall we get started?”

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