Twenty Minutes
Jul. 1st, 2019 08:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwyllionTitle: Twenty Minutes
Author: gwylliondream
Pairing: Bond/Q
Rating: R
Words: 135
A/N: Written for 007 fest 2019 for the prompt: Mission Report: “You said you set it for 20 minutes.” “A short 20 minutes.”
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading!
Naked, except for his stockinged feet, Bond slid across the kitchen floor.
The beeping of the countdown timer on the oven was drowned out by the shriek of the smoke alarm.
“You said you set it for 20 minutes,” Q shouted over the cacophony.
The sharp stench of burnt cheese burst from the oven.
Bond reached out to take the pan from Q's hands. He winced as his fingertips singed from the heat.
“Shit!” Bond shouted shaking his fingers to cool them. “A short 20 minutes.”
Q nudged the pan with a tea towel to keep it from falling off the counter.
Bond grabbed Q's mobile from where it lay on the dining table.
“What are you doing?” Q asked, his eyes wild.
“Ordering take-away, so we can spend another 20 minutes in bed, darling.”
Author: gwylliondream
Pairing: Bond/Q
Rating: R
Words: 135
A/N: Written for 007 fest 2019 for the prompt: Mission Report: “You said you set it for 20 minutes.” “A short 20 minutes.”
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading!
Naked, except for his stockinged feet, Bond slid across the kitchen floor.
The beeping of the countdown timer on the oven was drowned out by the shriek of the smoke alarm.
“You said you set it for 20 minutes,” Q shouted over the cacophony.
The sharp stench of burnt cheese burst from the oven.
Bond reached out to take the pan from Q's hands. He winced as his fingertips singed from the heat.
“Shit!” Bond shouted shaking his fingers to cool them. “A short 20 minutes.”
Q nudged the pan with a tea towel to keep it from falling off the counter.
Bond grabbed Q's mobile from where it lay on the dining table.
“What are you doing?” Q asked, his eyes wild.
“Ordering take-away, so we can spend another 20 minutes in bed, darling.”
