[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
A huge man towered over Illya in a threatening manner. The Russian had accidently spilled the man’s drink, and he had taken exception. He had tried smooth things over by offering to replace the drink, but the man was intent on retribution. Unfortunately, he made the mistake many people did when faced with the short, slightly built agent.

The thug was drawing his arm back to punch Illya, when he unexpectedly found himself lying on his back, with a heavily bleeding nose. Illya glared down at him.

“Next time, I suggest you accept the replacement drink when it is offered.”

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
This was written in response to a Pic Fic challenge. In it, Illya must meet a chess playing contact.

Click the original challenge pic to go to AO3.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
“Sit down, gentleman,” Mr Waverly instructed, without looking up from the file he was reading.

Napoleon and Illya sat in silence as they waited for their boss. Eventually, the old man gave them his attention.

“I am informed that the Section 7 secretarial pool are not filing your reports when they should be,” he told them. “Why would this be?”

“I honestly couldn’t say Sir,” Napoleon replied, with a shrug.

“I believe there are varying reasons,” Illya stated. “Many have recently had a lot more to do, some are having health issues, while others seem to be a little unmotivated. These are all things which happen in an office from time to time but, this time, it all appears to have occurred simultaneously.”

“How would either of you suggest we resolve this issue?”

A grin appeared on Napoleon’s face.

“I’m sure that, between us, Illya and I can provide inspiration.”

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
This is a very short piece (only 617 words), but I'd like to present it for all the Illya girls out there. Click the pic (which almost, but doesn't quite match the story) to go to AO3.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Napoleon smiled with amusement as he entered the U.N.C.L.E. car pool. Not knowing he was being observed, Illya was caressing the hood of one of the vehicles, while looking longingly at another. He suddenly turned and strode over to a third, before going back to the first one. Napoleon stepped out into the open.

“Have you decided which one to take yet? He asked.

Illya managed not to show that his partner had startled him.

“It matters not which vehicle we use, as long as it serves its purpose.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Tovarisch,” Napoleon replied, with a knowing grin.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
This is actually the prompt for last week, but it's taken this long to come up with something. I don't have anything for this week's prompt, but hopefully it won't take me all week.

Click the pic to go to AO3.

snowy hill.jpg
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com

Prompts - Reverse/Orange
Word Count - 406

Click the pic to go to AO3.

no title
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
For a secret agent, Napoleon Solo was extremely adept at being noticed. He could enter a room and have every person present watching his every move immediately. He could be loud and gregarious while throwing money around in an ostentatious manner. All of this served to allow Illya to do what he was expert at.

Kuryakin could practically make himself invisible in an empty room. In a crowd, in which Napoleon was holding court, he could go absolutely unnoticed; an ideal situation for planting listening devices or trackers.

This was one of the things which made them the perfect partners.



Aug. 21st, 2017 10:08 pm
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
I haven't been inspired in any way by prompts so have been unable to come up with anything for today's Short Affair. Hopefully my muse will come to my rescue before the week is out. In the mean time I'm going to rec the story from which the Short Affair was born. It's called 'The Key', and you can find it by clicking the pic.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
I was looking for this story yesterday for the Ladies of U.N.C.L.E. but I couldn't find it on AO3. It turns out that I missed it when I was transferring my other works (I've rectified that now). I'll rec in today instead, for Writer's Choice.

The summary for the story is "Destiny comes calling for one of U.N.C.L.E.'s file clerks."

Click the pic to go to AO3.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
This was originally written for the Pic Fic challenge. Click the prompt pic to go to AO3.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Illya entered Napoleon’s apartment, and called out his presence. The American had ‘done a Kuryakin’ and escaped from medical earlier than he should. Illya asked how it was okay for Solo, and not him.

“My doctor allowed me to leave on the proviso I agree to having people check on me three times a day.”

“And who will be doing that?”

“Well, today, Harriet is coming at ten, Marie at three, and Joan at eight. Tomorrow it will be . . .”

Illya held up his hand to stop him and wondered just how many women would be visiting Napoleon.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
This story isn't great, but I think it may one day work as part of something longer (but don't hold me to that).

Click the pic to go to AO3

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com

Prompts - Routine/Green
Word Count - 409

Click the pic to go to AO3

no title
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
I wrote this in response to the 'What's my Line?' challenge. The prompt was 'You're late again'.

Click the pic to go to AO3.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
It felt like a betrayal. In fact, it was a betrayal, of his home and of his heritage. There were few things which Illya Kuryakin considered sacred, but this was a symbol of home. Although he had no immediate wish to go back, he missed his homeland on occasion. The action he was about to commit was the closest he would ever come to his own version of blasphemy.

With a heavy sigh, Illya stuffed a rag into the neck of the vodka bottle and, after setting it alight, he threw the Molotov cocktail at the gates of the compound.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
My muse is not playing fair with me at the moment, so I thought I'd tempt her out with a little something from my comfort zone; a little Illya Angst.

Click the pic to go to AO3.

no title


Aug. 5th, 2017 08:20 pm
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
I haven't written anything for the HOWDOWE challenge so, I'm going to rec something by [livejournal.com profile] mrua7. I've chosen this because 'Guy Fawkes Night' is a British holiday.

Click the title to go to the story.

Remember, Remember the Fifth of November by [livejournal.com profile] mrua7

(As an aside - Although I know the plotters were intending on terrible destruction, I have to feel a little sorry for the ringleader of the group. The plot will forever have Guido Fawkes' name attached to it, with people never remembering Robert Catesby.)
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Napoleon and Illya stared, in a state of confusion, as Mark’s informant spoke.

“I ‘eard a dicky bird that the geezer you want will be in the rub-a-dub across the frog and toad tonight.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked.

“I don’t tell no porkies. Now, I ain’t got time to rabbit, I need a Jimmy.”

“What on Earth did he just say?” asked Napoleon, as the man wandered away.

“He said he’s heard the man we want will be in the pub across the street tonight. He then said he hasn’t got time to talk because he needs to urinate.”

Cockney Rhyming Slang

Adam and Eve – Believe
Dicky bird – Word
Rub-a-dub – Pub
Frog and Toad - Road
Porkies – (Pork pies) Lies
Rabbit – (Rabbit and Pork) Talk
Jimmy – (Jimmy Riddle) Piddle



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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

September 2017

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