highly unorthodox

[full_of_wrath]

Mallory is a man who is able to accomplish almost anything he sets his mind to. By all rights, stepping into her shoes, the whole office should have bucked the readjustment, some of the older agents in particular... but somehow they don't. They fall smoothly into line underneath him, and for one simple reason.

Mallory is incredibly good at reading, at soothing, at moving people the precise way he wants to, at achieving the desired result from resource after human resource. He has Bond twitching with loyalty, has Moneypenny working with focused devotion, and has Q happily ensconsed in a lab with almost free reign and near unlimited resources and enough supervision and oversight to give his days structure. Every one of them, and everyone else in the bureau besides, each so lovingly tailored into just the right spot, not only makes the transition smoothly but rapidly begins to thrive under his gentle touch.

Which is why it's unheard of, the request he makes of Q this afternoon, to meet him in his office, even more unheard of his request to take on a new trainee and manage him closely, report anything he sees out of the ordinary. But it's also why Q can be sure it's for a damn good reason.

John Harrison, the newest upheaval in his life, will be waiting for him down in his office when Mallory is done with him.

Comments

[queues]

"Oh, lovely."

He sounds about as frightened as a stone, but definitely more than a little inconvenienced.

"As if the agents weren't bad enough. I'm not a babysitter, you know."

Mallory wouldn't have really left pale, snappable little Q in with anyone actually dangerous. Would he?

[full_of_wrath]

It's actually far, far more likely that Khan would be dangerous to anyone who was't as pale, snappable, and snide as little Q, and thus immune to almost any risk of being harmed in a fit of posturing, or out of boredom.

"Then don't babysit me. Put me in a room and give me something to work on. I'm sure he'll give you credit for whatever you coax me into producing."

[queues]

"I don't give a damn about what he gives me credit for."

Q rolls his eyes, brushing a stray curl from his temple as he reaches for a few papers on his desk and leafs through them.

"I create the theory behind everything in this branch. If you make something, it will be of my design. If you have an idea, you will clear it by me. I am not just the head of this branch because I can create, but also because Mallory trusts me to control. And if he put you in my care, that is exactly what I intend to do."

[full_of_wrath]

"I have absolutely no interest in clearing my every whim with a petty despot of an administrator."

He answers, dismissively.

"I work quickly, and I work brilliantly, and stopping to run every single thought past you isn't going to happen."

[queues]

"Then I'm sure we can arrange to have you put in a cell."

Evenly.

"Or under a dullard who won't appreciate anything that you do and keeps a gun on you at all times."

[full_of_wrath]

"I don't think I'm supposed to be allowed near guns."

He admits, leaning back against the wall, thoughtfully. He'll keep quiet for now... and do whatever he feels like when Q is out of the room, oversight be damned.

[queues]

"Dangerous. I remember."

He sighs.

"What do you do, then, Harrison?"

[full_of_wrath]

"Brutality."

He answers, serenely.

"Offensive weaponry."

[queues]

He arches an eyebrow.

"No and no."

And, with a resigned sigh- "surveillance devices. Double-oh three wants the ever-fictional spy insect. The thing's a dead end- it's impossible to maintain a silent flight with the weight of the transmitter and camera. I'm sure you'll feel right at home working on it."

[full_of_wrath]

He lifts his eyebrows, and nods. That'll do. He can make that work, inasmuch as he actually spends time working on it.

"Take me to a workspace."

[queues]

Q stares at him for a moment, and then, just to be contrary-

"Not quite. Tell me why you're here, first."

[full_of_wrath]

"Because Mallory ordered me here."

Shrugging.

[queues]

"Please."

He sighs.

"Don't play games with me. You're here because you're highly intelligent and Mallory wants to use you as an asset. You're dangerous, thus the constant supervision, but for some reason, he doesn't think you'll be dangerous to me. You're here because it's a better alternative than wherever else you could go."

[full_of_wrath]

"Then, you hardly need me to tell you anything, do you?"

He wants to know, eyebrows arching.

"Or was there something in particular you hadn't worked out?"

[queues]

"I want it in your words."

Q meets his eyes, behind thick framed glasses.

"Why he thinks you won't hurt me. What you did to get here. We don't just throw every criminal mastermind in Q branch. Why are you so different?"

[full_of_wrath]

"I'm here because I'm highly intelligent and Mallory wants to use me as an asset. I'm dangerous, thus the constant supervision, but I'm not likely to be dangerous to. I'm here because it's a better alternative than my other offers, so my cooperation keeps me in line."

He informs him, serenely. 'His own words' are word for word what Q reported earlier, but.

[queues]

Q narrows his eyes at him, before taking a deep breath and turning away.

"Fine. Down the hall, second door to your left is an empty room. Go sit there and I'll bring in the prototypes later."

[full_of_wrath]

"I'll wait quietly."

He promises, moving up to slip away.

Actually, he'll go find someone else's work desk in the mean time, and start there.

[queues]

And Q will be standing over him about fifteen minutes later, watching him. Not scolding, not yet, but- merely watching. Curious.

[full_of_wrath]

He looks up, innocently, when he arrives.

"Ready for me to begin?"

In the mean time, he's been looking through every propeller system they have, and is drafting up on another screen a lists of components and chemicals he'll need.

[queues]

"Show me what you're doing."

[full_of_wrath]

"You're getting more and more invasive. Look it over yourself, I don't have the inclination to baby you."

Glaring at him, before snatching a pen and paper, starting to create diagrams.

Flight technology improves aerodynamically in the future, as well as in terms of propulsion. He just works on the shape of the craft for the moment, demonstrating with deft strokes a tiny chasis that would fly well, with purely vestigial wings. Everything gets too loud when you try to lift from the wings themselves; this design bypasses that. It still isn't hardly strong enough for any kind of recording device, sound or otherwise, but he has another plan.

[queues]

"I'm the babysitter and the prison guard. I'll tell you to show your work as I please."

But he holds his tongue from futher comment, instead just watching Harrison draw an move, his chin tilted a little in curiosity.

"...where did you learn this?"

[full_of_wrath]

"Right now it's only advanced theory."

But the equations he's adding along the margins indicate that it should work.

"Do I merit a station, now, or shall I carry on waiting here?"

[queues]

"...no, keep going."

Q leans in over him, fingers tracing softly over the numbers he's written.

"This here, it's based on a theory that doesn't exist. No mathematicians have published works using similar equations."