Cats and Dogs (Skyfall crack fic)
Title: Cats and Dogs
Fandom: James Bond (Skyfall '12)
Characters/Parings: Bond, Silva, and M, no real shipping her as that would be strange.
Rating: G
Word Count: 529
Summary: Bond is a dog, M is his Master, Silva is the sly cat that feeds him from next door.
A/N: I don't even. CRACK. SO MUCH CRACK. I seem to be on a roll today.
Bond wakes up to his master’s yell, “Bond! Dinner Bond!”
He stands up shaking his tail and lets out a woof. He has been waiting for dinner from M since the big bright light turned the darkness into warmth. He springs down the steps running into what M calls a table and hears a crash. He lops into the kitchen and M reaches down and scratches him behind the ears, “The company is going through some hardships so no full dinner tonight James.”
She puts the bowl in front of him and he stares at the small portion. He looks up at M and whines, “Feed me more!”
M just shakes her head; she can’t hear him of course. They don’t speak the same tongues like some hot bloods can. M just tuts, “Don’t complain Bond, it’s unbecoming.”
James looks down and starts eating dutifully, still a little pissed that M’s company has fallen on hard times. If M asked him to bite the people in the company he would. He’s sure that would solve that. M pets him once more and then heads into her study.
There is a scratching sound on the kitchen door that leads out to the porch and Bond turns to see the mutt of a tabby cat that lives next door. The Tabby grins at him, “Oh James seems you have run into a bit of trouble. Whatever should I do?”
James growls and M hushes him from the next room, “If I do not finish this report Bond I shall be very cross.”
The cat laughs, the asshole and then has the audacity to pull out what looks like a dead rabbit from behind his back, “Do you want some James?”
James hesitates but eventually walks up to the glass and forces it open after much pawing at it. M is going to kill him when she see’s the marks he’s sure. Eventually he slips outside and runs around in a circle. When he’s done he eyes the cat suspiciously, “For me?”
The cat’s whiskers twitch, “For you.”
“Is there a catch?”
“No catch.”
Bond takes a bite of it hesitantly, and then devours the whole thing whole. The cat looks like it wants to be sick but doesn’t say anything. When he’s done he wags his tail excitedly, “What is your name cat?”
“Silva.”
“That’s a little fancy for a bloody cat.”
The cat rolls his eyes, “Oh James you say it as if your name is not.”
In front of Silva Bond glowers, “Why did you bring me food?”
“I wanted to entreat you into a friendship.” The cat tells him.
Bond stares for a second his neck titling. M had always joked with his friends that cats and dogs never got along but this cat seemed trust worthy. His tail starts to wag faster and Bond grins, “Okay kitty cat.”
The cat huffs, “Never call me that again.”
For a moment Bond thinks he should say something about that, make some sort of promise to never call Silva that ever again, as Silva had asked. But M has always told him to never make a promise he cannot keep.
Fandom: James Bond (Skyfall '12)
Characters/Parings: Bond, Silva, and M, no real shipping her as that would be strange.
Rating: G
Word Count: 529
Summary: Bond is a dog, M is his Master, Silva is the sly cat that feeds him from next door.
A/N: I don't even. CRACK. SO MUCH CRACK. I seem to be on a roll today.
Bond wakes up to his master’s yell, “Bond! Dinner Bond!”
He stands up shaking his tail and lets out a woof. He has been waiting for dinner from M since the big bright light turned the darkness into warmth. He springs down the steps running into what M calls a table and hears a crash. He lops into the kitchen and M reaches down and scratches him behind the ears, “The company is going through some hardships so no full dinner tonight James.”
She puts the bowl in front of him and he stares at the small portion. He looks up at M and whines, “Feed me more!”
M just shakes her head; she can’t hear him of course. They don’t speak the same tongues like some hot bloods can. M just tuts, “Don’t complain Bond, it’s unbecoming.”
James looks down and starts eating dutifully, still a little pissed that M’s company has fallen on hard times. If M asked him to bite the people in the company he would. He’s sure that would solve that. M pets him once more and then heads into her study.
There is a scratching sound on the kitchen door that leads out to the porch and Bond turns to see the mutt of a tabby cat that lives next door. The Tabby grins at him, “Oh James seems you have run into a bit of trouble. Whatever should I do?”
James growls and M hushes him from the next room, “If I do not finish this report Bond I shall be very cross.”
The cat laughs, the asshole and then has the audacity to pull out what looks like a dead rabbit from behind his back, “Do you want some James?”
James hesitates but eventually walks up to the glass and forces it open after much pawing at it. M is going to kill him when she see’s the marks he’s sure. Eventually he slips outside and runs around in a circle. When he’s done he eyes the cat suspiciously, “For me?”
The cat’s whiskers twitch, “For you.”
“Is there a catch?”
“No catch.”
Bond takes a bite of it hesitantly, and then devours the whole thing whole. The cat looks like it wants to be sick but doesn’t say anything. When he’s done he wags his tail excitedly, “What is your name cat?”
“Silva.”
“That’s a little fancy for a bloody cat.”
The cat rolls his eyes, “Oh James you say it as if your name is not.”
In front of Silva Bond glowers, “Why did you bring me food?”
“I wanted to entreat you into a friendship.” The cat tells him.
Bond stares for a second his neck titling. M had always joked with his friends that cats and dogs never got along but this cat seemed trust worthy. His tail starts to wag faster and Bond grins, “Okay kitty cat.”
The cat huffs, “Never call me that again.”
For a moment Bond thinks he should say something about that, make some sort of promise to never call Silva that ever again, as Silva had asked. But M has always told him to never make a promise he cannot keep.