As in a real one, not those mini-chapters I’ve been posting on AO3.

Q keeps a chart on a screen high on the wall of Q-branch, with all the Minions names on the vertical axis, and a variety of codes across the top, and color-coded squares populating the table.  Bond thinks it’s a list of tasks, at first. Like a chart flatmates might create to keep from having arguments about dishes and a dirty loo.

And it is.

But that’s not all it is. That’s just the first third or so.  The rest of the rows constitute challenges, some of Q’s devising, some general categories, for which the minions may submit specific challenges to see if Q approves them for fulfilling that particular square. Some are even multipart — three by three squares the minion must complete in order to score that particular box on the chart.

Once all the “must do” boxes are completed, the “challenge” boxes are available for the minions to do during breaks or other down times.  And though Q can’t condone the hacking of other governments’ satellites, as long as no one is caught, it just gives them one more surveillance stream. At the end of specified lengths of time — which are also determined by an algorithm the minions must suss out to know when the finish line of any specific competition is — Q announces a winner.

Bond just happens to be in Q-branch during lunch one day when a pulsating “whooshing” sound suddenly dominates the room, and every Minion in the place goes silent and turns their face toward the screen.  Bond turns as well, watching the colored squares turn to numbers, the numbers turn to totals and a single row highlight itself in yellow.

“Woot!” cries a staffer Bond has never met before, thrusting both arms in the air in triumph.

Q looks up from his screen, mug midway to his lips.  “Oh. Well done, Harminder! Submit your rankings and I’ll have a prize for you Monday.

”Bond leans over to R.  “What’s the prize?”

She smiles and looks sideways at Q, rather fondly.  “No one knows. When you win, you fill out a form about likes, dislikes, shows you watch, bands you like, and Q enters it into a search algorithm he’s created for eBay, price adjusted to the points earned.   Each prize is unique to the individual, everyone is always thrilled with their winnings, and Q gets to know his staff, both in terms of their skills and their personal tastes.”

“Don’t the same people always win?”

“No, he revises the challenges every time, trying to draw out different strengths.  Or identifying where we don’t currently have a strength so he can use the information for recruitment.  Almost everyone’s won once.”

Watching on as the Minions congratulate the winner, he realizes that this is part of why morale in Q-branch is high while the rest of the agency feels beleaguered in the aftermath of Spectre.  Q challenges his staff, rewards them directly in little ways — as well as recommending them for raises and such — and actually treats them as individuals, with varied strengths and interests.

For all his appearance of awkwardness and a lack of social graces, Q is a damned good manager.  Bond adds this to the list of things that he knows about the man, amused to be surprised yet again.