Chapter Text
He’d been waiting for this moment for years. The thump in the cupboard, the shift in the air: someone had come for him.
For the first time in months, Bond cocked his gun and hoped Spectre hadn’t sent their most steroid-pumped beast for the job. His knee was buggered again. It wouldn’t last in a protracted fight. With any luck, there’d be a sticky-fingered local behind the door, easily scared away.
Bond turned the doorknob.
Nothing. No hitman, just a broom, a mop, an old radio and—
“Mrreow!”
He looked down. On the floor, backed up against a bundle of old rags, was one of the stray cats who liked to steal his fish. She trilled at him and shifted her legs, and that’s when he noticed them: kittens. Five of them, sucking hungrily at her belly.
Bond traded his gun for his phone and dialled a familiar number.
“Hello, yes. It’s 007. No, not—look, just get me Q. Yes, it’s an emergency.”
While he waited for MI6’s most hapless wonder to patch him through, he turned back to the cat.
“What have you got yourself into, hm?”
“Mrrrp.”
She was enormous and evidently exhausted. The runt of the litter was scrambling over her paws, whining. Bond crouched down and pulled a towel around her back. Sweet, she was. Always his favourite along at the dock, and partial to mackerel; he’d never managed to sneak one past her.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We’ve got backup on the way.”