Jan. 11th, 2017

[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com

The wind stopped, leaving two UNCLE agents listening to silence. Nothing moved, not a leaf or branch; there was no fluttering of pigeon wings.

“Nice to have such stillness in the middle of New York city.” Napoleon bit into his sandwich.

Sitting on a park bench, taking their lunch; they needed some fresh air.

“Not for long,” Illya drew a paper bag from his pocket. Taking out bird seed; he tossed it to the ground.


Birds surrounded them, jockeying for position to get to more food in Illya’s palm.

“Tovarisch, did you have to do that?”

“They are hungry too…”



[identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com
Double Drabble...

.......................................

"You won't believe who I ran into."  Napoleon's face was flushed from the cold air, and his coat showed a dusting of snow.  Illya looked up from his typewriter, cocking his head to one side.

"Well, you wouldn't care, or know her…' He let that linger in the air until the Russian finally gave in.

"Fine.  Tell me, who did you see?"  Satisfied with the opportunity to share, Napoleon embarked on his narrative.

"So, after all of these years she actually recognized you?"

"Sure, I haven't changed much." Illya snorted at that. Perhaps it was so.

"And you asked her out?"

"No.  No, she wouldn't understand my life and…"  Illya suspected something else had kept his partner from wooing the woman in this story of reunions and past romance.

"You're leaving something out, Napoleon."

"It's been a long time since high school…' How to say it?.

"She's a nun.  And apparently I inspired her search for God."  It seemed too ridiculous, or embarrassing.

"You sent a young woman to the convent?"  Illya was tempted to break into laughter but he didn't.

"Then you helped her answer a higher calling."  Illya made it sound noble.

"It would seem so."

"Amen, brother."
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Illya said with a sigh, as he flopped down.

“Are you saying you want to quit?” replied Solo, incredulously.

He’d known for a while that Illya was growing weary and bored, but he would never have thought it would come to this.

“It’s becoming much too repetitive,” the Russian explained. “Fight, win, fight, lose, fight win. It is the same pattern over and over.”

“I think you are probably right,” Napoleon conceded. “Maybe it is time to move on.”

“We’re just too equally matched,” Kuryakin stated. “We both need new sparring partners.”

.

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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

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