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Episode: The Summit Five Affair (S4E1)

Prompt 1: When Lisa Rogers tells Illya to report to Harry Beldon, she says, “You'll have to expect him to be somewhat, uh—.” Illya replies, “I've worked with Harry Beldon. I know what to expect.” So the question arises…What are Illya’s previous experiences working with Beldon?

The image takes you to the Map Room. The main link is there, since the story includes Illya's first encounter with Faustina.

Wine

My Series

Jul. 4th, 2017 01:12 pm
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I have 4 series/collections on AO3.

Agent Pemberley - Stories that feature my OC Faustina

World Enough and Time - My series on Illya and Faustina's road to romance

Then Live With Me and Be My Love - Stories that focus on Illya and Faustina's relationship and family

Drabbles and Double Drabbles
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Prompts: Traffic / green
Word Count: ~900

Catching up on an older prompt. The image takes you to AO3.

Bernice Original
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Prompts: Wine / white
Word Count: ~1000

The image takes you to AO3.

IMG_0364.JPG
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The final two chapters of Death in the Forecast are up on AO3.

Chapter 4

Chapter 5
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The image below takes you to Death in the Forecast - Chapter 3 on AO3.


lightning.jpg
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The continuation of the Short Affair I posted yesterday is up.

The link takes you to AO3.

Death in the Forecast - Chapter 2
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Prompts: Stir / yellow
Word Count: ~450

This idea turned into a much longer piece than expected, so I broke it into sections. It begins with the Short Affair below. The image takes you to AO3.

IMG_0361.JPG
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Episode: The Mad, Mad Tea Party Affair

Prompt 1: As they discuss giving Kay Lorrison the Jekyll-Hyde routine, Illya says to Napoleon, “You haven’t played the villain for a long time.” So the questions arise…When was the last time Napoleon played the villain? Why has it been so long? Is it really that Illya is so much better at it? Did it not go so well the last time Napoleon took the role of the heavy?

I'm late to my own party.

Dr. Jekyll and Miss Babcock

Link takes you to AO3.
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If you're feeling romantic today, I offer my story Our Long Love's Day. It is the conclusion to my series World Enough and Time, about Illya and Faustina's rocky road to romance. In keeping with today's theme, Illya does quote the Bard, among other things.

Our Long Love's Day on AO3

World Enough and Time on AO3
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Napoleon took a seat at the table and interrupted his jaunty whistling long enough to offer a greeting. Faustina smiled distractedly as she monitored the sugar cascading from the dispenser into her coffee cup. Illya grunted from behind his newspaper. Napoleon whistled more loudly and tapped an accompaniment on the table.

“Evidently you are waiting for one of us to ask why you are so chipper,” Illya said without moving the paper.

“Umm-hmm.”

“And you will continue to make irritating noises until we do?”

“Smart Russian.”

Read more... )
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Prompts: Easy / brown
Word Count: ~925
An AU story of the future Kuryakin family


As Illya wrestled with the folding projection screen, a rhythmic thunking sound broke into his awareness. “Stop kicking the table,” he advised his son.

Léon threw himself back against the couch cushions with a groan. “Why do I have to be here?”

“Because we are spending time together as a family.” Illya gave a triumphant exhalation when the screen case ceased revolving and clicked into place. “Whether you like it or not.”

Slide Show

Link takes you to the Map Room.
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Prompts: sculpture / green
Word Count: ~1000
This story was also partly inspired by the Everybody Loves Raymond episode “Marie’s Sculpture.”


Solo and Kuryakin turned into their corridor, crossing paths with a pair of pencil-skirted secretaries. “Good morning, ladies,” Napoleon said as he smoothly stepped aside.

The women blushed and giggled. He watched in bemused appreciation as they hurried away, whispering to each other and darting glances back at him.

“What do you make of that?” Napoleon asked as he caught up to his partner.

“I abandoned such speculations long ago.”

Their office door slid open. A third secretary emerged and froze at the sight of them. “Monica?” Napoleon said. With a gasp, she slapped him across the face and stalked off.

“Interesting date last night?” Illya asked and walked through the doorway.

“I didn’t have one,” Napoleon replied, rubbing his cheek.

Read more... )
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Prompts: delicate/silver
Words: 564
This is a follow-up to my PicFic In Psittacus Veritas Pt.1, a sort-of deleted scene. It gave too much away to include in the other story or to post yesterday, but I wanted to share it nonetheless.


The head of Section IV, UNCLE HQ NY, hovered in the office doorway. “Verity—I mean, uh, Miss Charles. Can I talk to you a minute?”

“Of course, Mr. Dennell. Come in.”

“Come in. Come in.” From its cage in the corner, a silver parrot echoed her high-pitched voice with uncanny accuracy.

George crossed the threshold, the door whispering shut behind him. He tapped his fingers together at his waist and cleared his throat. “It’s kind of a delicate matter.”

Read more... )
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Napoleon Solo sat with chin in hand, a small smiling curving his lips, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. Illya Kuryakin followed his gaze across the commissary to the stool at the end of the counter. A woman perched there, engrossed in a journal. Her figure was soft and deeply curved. As she read she twisted her waist, swiveling the seat ever-so-slightly left and right.

“Your soup is getting cold,” Illya said.

“Hmm? Oh.” Napoleon tore his gaze from the mesmerizing movements of the rounded derrière.

“She is not on the menu.”

“Maybe not, but she would be a charming armful on the dance floor. And I happen to be free for dinner.”

“Shouldn’t you find out her name first?”

Read more... )
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Some mild het for this first Monday in March.

The very late conclusion to my two previous Huddlescombe stories:
Huddlescombe Society for the Prevention of Moral Turpitude
Delight


As the knock sounded, Napoleon’s mouth broke into a grin of anticipation. He smoothed the front of his red silk robe and crossed to the door. His smile faltered at the sight of a stout, gray-haired chambermaid.

“Mr. Solo?” she asked. He nodded, his eyes darting up and down the otherwise empty hotel corridor.

The woman held out a brown paper parcel. “Compliments of Miss Leyla.”

Napoleon accepted the package with reluctance. The paper crackled as the lightweight contents shifted in his grasp. “Thank you.”

Diversion

Link takes you to the Map Room
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Prompts: Delight / red
Words: ~900
A continuation of my most recent post.

Napoleon crossed the lobby of the Wollecott Grand Hotel, debonair and disheveled. His partner stood at the front desk, leaning heavily on his forearms, waiting for service.

“Well, that was…interesting,” Napoleon said, as he idly spun a rack of postcards.

“Indeed. Huddlescombe’s one woman Society for the Prevention of Moral Turpitude.”

“And mascot. There should be a souvenir of those two.”

Read more... )
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Prompts: Shake / white
Word Count: ~700
Note: What was meant to be a few sentence opening to this week's prompt took on a life of its own. It worked well as a late entry for a previous challenge. I hope to continue the original story idea, a bit less floridly, on Monday.


Mrs. E. J. Harriman of Huddlescombe by the Sea, her beady eyes glinting with curiosity, paused to observe the taxicab that pulled up in front of the Wollecott Grand Hotel. “Gerald!” she bellowed, as her terrier yipped frantically and strained at his leash.

The rear door swung open. Haltingly, with labored movements, two men climbed out of the taxi. They stood on the public sidewalk, unashamed of their dishevelment, squinting resentfully at the pure rays of late morning sunshine. A martial gleam blazed in Mrs. Harriman’s eyes. She scooped up Gerald, gathering the terrier to her ample bosom, and marched upon the strangers.

Read more... )
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“Parsons is on the prowl for you, darling.”

Mark frowned. “That nosey-parker?”

“So, what's the dirt?” April asked.

“No dirt. Pure as driven snow.”

“You look nervous.”

“Do I? Damn.”

“Must be one juicy story.”

Lulu Parsons swept into their office. “UNCLE Oracle here, kids. ‘All the news that's fit to mimeograph.’” She chuckled at her own motto. “So Mark, sources say you took Paulette to The Canterbury Tales last night…using Napoleon’s tickets.”

“Sadly, he was struck with a sudden indisposition. I'm only glad I was able to help.”

“A regular johnny on the spot.” She licked her pencil end. “I'm also doing an exposé on rising expenses in Section II. I see that you recently requisitioned additional ptomaine pills. Any comment?”

Mark leapt to his feet. “Miss Parsons, if you print that, I'll have you for libel.”

Lulu’s pencil danced across the steno pad. “‘Slate vehemently denied a connection between the two incidents, threatening this reporter will civil action.’ Perfect. My readers will eat it up. Toddle-loo, kids.” She exited happily.

“Mark!”

He collapsed into the chair and hid his face in his hands. “I'm dead.”

“Don't worry, darling.” She patted his hair. “She’ll run a lovely obituary.”

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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

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