“He did my job for me, killing his master,” Bond said. “He got around his feet and tripped him down a flight of stairs. Leaving him to get blown up with the rest of them seemed a churlish way to repay him.”Fucking cats seriously. They are everywhere. Like everywhere. Even youtube is ganging up againts me. Not nice. Maybe the world actually wants me to become the crazy cat lady. Hopefully not. No one would like to see me having cats named Linux, Ubuntu, Macintosh and so on.
The cat chirruped agreeably, and washed a paw. Despite being brought from south Ireland in a bag, the feline looked well-cared for.
“You brought me a cat. A murder cat, owned by your villain du jour.”
In which Q is brought offerings of murder cats, keeps losing his pens to a certain kleptomaniacal agent, and is generally oblivious to/confused by Bond's attempts at catching his attention.
Okey. I probably have to name one Spock and another Kirk just because Q had a cat named Spock in this. Yea. And I really liked that name. Have to think about that... Okey. Maybe first I have to make Linux feel at home but whatever (yea, my cat's name is Linux, the other one is Demon but we do not talk about Demon).
But seriously as far as cats go this fic was pure awesomness. Badass mice/rat hunting cats and nothing else. Okey. A lot of other badassness going all around too. Yea. Pretty close perfectness. Yup.
No idea how I even found this awesome peace of perfectness but pretty damn happy I found it.
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