Other Fan Fiction ❯ What the Cat Knows ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters you read before you. All rights belong to MGM, Kevin McClory, and all that.

 

Author's Note: After recently seeing “Never Say Never Again”, I thought on my usual bill of fare: the crack pairing. Besides, I want to break into a new fandom and that's always a good thing, yes?

 

Beta: Still looking.

 

Timeline: 3/4ths into “Never Say Never Again”.

 

 

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The white Persian cat rubbed himself around his master's feet, clamoring for attention. The middle-aged man was currently engrossed in etching his signature onto various documents. For Ernst Stavro Blofeld, supreme commander of S.P.E.C.T.R.E., his work was never done. The feline then caressed his whiskered cheek alongside the fine silk gray pant leg.

 

The human sighed and scooped him up. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”

 

The pet offered only purrs as his fluffy belly was being massaged. Lamentably, his owner ceased for the cheerless visage of S.P.E.C.T.R.E.'s Number One, Maximillian Largo, emerged on the mantle monitor.

 

“Yes, Number One?”

 

“Sir, I regret to inform you that Number Twelve was murdered.”

 

Ernst's jaw clenched, his brow creased, all he uttered was, `how?'

 

“Precise details are unknown at the moment, but she was last seen with James Bond.”

 

He grated his teeth at the accused name. “Thank you, Number One. Keep me appraised on the operation.”

 

Largo nodded compliantly, the connection fading. The fearless leader dismissed his loitering underlings, murmuring to himself longingly. He stroked the furred one's cranium repeatedly.

 

“I had such high hopes,” he declared sotto voce. “I honestly thought she could handle Bond. Is this the price I pay for overconfidence? Do I want to romanticize, or simply say she was incompetent? Should I sully her memory?

 

“Publicly, I have to, for I'd become a hypocrite otherwise. Nor should I play favorites like I do with Largo, but…this one was special. She was dedicated to her work; a real zeal I have never seen in another. If my clients weren't so chauvinistic, I'd consider her Number One.

 

“Maybe then, I could finally retire. But you also love the life, don't you?” He kneaded the accepting animal's ears. “Yes, you do. On top of that, she also had a unique affinity for animals — she loved her python as much as I love you. Ridiculous, I admit, but I respect it, along with the irony of her pet choice.

 

“I know my agents said she was borderline psychopathic. However, that's what they said about Largo as well. What's the cliché: the line between insanity and genius is only measured by success? The critics can't dispute the results.

 

“Success rates aside, when did I turn so melancholy? Is that the consequence of old age: waxing philosophically to you, like Hamlet to Yorick's skull? Or, is it a simple case of me being melodramatic? Unfortunately, I don't have time to idle on such matters.

 

“I wonder if this is what Bond goes through with his various women. Is there loss? Is there any type of void? Unlike him, all I have is the might-have-been. On the other hand, who needs the rumors, the tarnished reputations, and the possible manipulations? It couldn't have been anything more, could it?”

 

The Persian eyed him impassively.

 

“I suppose I'll never know. Perhaps, it's just as well — S.P.E.C.T.R.E. waits for nothing, including myself. And I have a job to do.”

 

Ernst placed his darling onto the floor and re-summoned his lackeys. The world needed the imposing executive than the mourning gentleman right now.

 

 

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I've seen some sources say the cat was Angora while others say Persian. Since Persian seems to be most accepted, I'm going with that unless someone confirms the other for sure. Anyway, leave a review if you wish, and see you in the funny papers.