[identity profile] hypatia-66.livejournal.com
Sequel to The reluctant partygoer

Screenshot (5).png

Appearances can be very misleading

“Mr Kuryakin is very late,” said the Old Man sternly, looking up at his delinquent agent’s partner.

“Yes, I can’t understand it sir,” said Napoleon. “He was all right last night when he went home – said he had a date.”

“A date? Mr Kuryakin?”

“Even he sometimes likes to have fun.”

Waverley snorted. “I’ll soon give him fun,” he said, and picked up his microphone.

There was no response. “Having fun, with his communicator switched off. Against all the rules,” and he snorted again. “Go and find him.”Read more... )
[identity profile] hypatia-66.livejournal.com
Short Affair challenge 4 Sept (Drive. Silver)


Couldn’t be difficult

It was more interesting to watch the birdlife over the course. Trailing after the two men; pulling their trolleys full of clubs, one in each hand; or holding the flag while they each tried to persuade a small white ball to drop into an almost invisible hole, using entirely unsuitable instruments – it was beyond tedium.

“Hi, you’re in the way. Fore!”

“Four what?”

“Idiot Russian.”

“Leave him alone, Mr Solo. Mr Kuryakin, perhaps you’d be good enough to move a little to your left, while your partner plays his shot.”

And so it went. Hours of it. His job was to keep a weather eye out for a certain kind of bird, known to inhabit rough places and suspected of having started to nest nearby.

Once, looking up at a passing buzzard, a dark predator against the high cloud of a silver sky, he stepped back and fell into a bunker. His partner’s mirth added little to his enjoyment of the day.

The scientist in him, however, had begun to observe the mechanics of the business. Read more... )

[identity profile] hypatia-66.livejournal.com
Click on photo for AO3
Illya goes to a party and has to be rescued, by the one person in danger from him.

moon079 (3).jpg
[identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
I've recc'd [livejournal.com profile] avery11 before, of course. But I think not this particular and masterful drabble.
[identity profile] rose-of-pollux.livejournal.com
Short Affair 10/31
Prompt: Haunt
Color: Orange

Title: Catastrophe
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~850

(Note: not as dark as the title suggests...)

Catastrophe )
[identity profile] avirra.livejournal.com
“You'd better get up here. Right now.”

Illya didn’t even take time to respond before he rushed out of the room.  As for Baitman, despite his mantra that ghosts weren’t real, he was close on Illya’s heels.  He wasn’t about to be left behind in case Mother Fear (or whatever that thing was) made another appearance.

Meanwhile, back at the Waverly home, Mrs. Waverly woke with a start, much more clear headed than she had been when Napoleon’s call had pulled her from sleep.  The slight headache plus the fact that she was normally a light sleeper made her suspicious.  It only took a quick glance to tell her that Napoleon had lied to her.

Alexander Waverly was, as his wife knew full well after many years of marriage, a creature of habit, at least inside the walls of their own home.  His slippers were still beside the bed and his robe, like her own, was draped on his side of the cedar blanket chest that was at the foot of their bed.

Not far away was Alexander’s valet chair – a lovely piece of sturdy oak furniture with a dark leather padded seat.  His suit for the day was still there with his shoes tucked neatly underneath.  She pulled on her own robe and quickly opened the drawer that was underneath the seat and felt her heart sink even more.  Alexander’s wallet, favorite pen, and pipe pouch were all still neatly in their places inside the drawer.

Her first thought, to call Napoleon back, was quickly dismissed.  Illya was also dismissed as he was bound to already be with Napoleon and quite busy.  Her fingers rapidly dialed up the next in line – April Dancer.

April was soundly asleep, hugging her pillow tightly.  She and Mark had finished up an overseas assignment and flown back the morning before.  Mister Waverly had been kind enough to say that, since their mission had been a resounding success, their paperwork could stand to wait a day and that they should get some sleep.  As sleep had been in very short supply, neither she or Mark argued.  Between exhaustion and jet lag, by the time the jangling of her phone penetrated her brain, April had been sleeping like the dead for nearly fourteen hours.


“This is Mrs. Waverly, Miss Dancer.  I suspect Mister Solo is already aware and thinks he is being kind by not alarming me, but Mister Waverly is missing and I suspect he was taken from our bedroom while we slept.”

That brought April to full alertness faster than a cold shower could have.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“A bit of a headache, but nothing worse for myself.  There is a scent I don’t recognize in the air, so I would venture to say a gas of some sort was used to keep us asleep.  By the way, dear?  If you would be so kind, I want you to verify the names of the agents that were assigned to us tonight.  If they are still alive and not incapacitated, we will be having a lengthy chat with them once Alexander has returned.”

April winced in sympathy for whoever those agents were.  She remembered Mark’s reaction to being on the wrong end of Mrs. Waverly’s protectiveness over her husband.  Deciding to jump off the deep end, she cleared her throat.

“If you’ll pardon my asking, why do you think Mister Solo already knows?”

“Because he lied to me, my dear.  And unless you believe that I’ve gone dotty enough in my old age to believe that Alexander would leave to take an emergency conference call – one that, might I add, he could have taken over the secured lines here – in his pajamas without even his robe or his slippers?”

April didn’t hesitate.

“No, ma’am.  I see what you mean.  I will send a team out immediately to see how the kidnappers got past your home’s security.  Mister Slate and I will contact Mister Solo to see where he needs us to find Mister Waverly.”

Satisfied that the top agents would be looking for her husband, Mrs. Waverly nodded to herself.

“Excellent, Miss Dancer.  I shall expect either my husband or a progress report by lunchtime.  Now, I will get dressed to get ready for the investigation team’s arrival and allow you to take care of rousing Mister Slate.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the dial-tone returned, April dialed Mark, finding her partner had already been awake for about an hour.  He promised to pick her up shortly and to have a stout cup of coffee waiting for her in the passenger’s cup holder.  They decided to wait until they were together to contact Napoleon so that they could hear the details of the hunt for Mister Waverly at the same time and be ready to go wherever Napoleon needed them to be.
[identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
A nice, and for our boys surprisingly smooth, little between-affairs mission I think everyone will enjoy is [livejournal.com profile] alynwa 's Of Spies and Cats
[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
Memo: From Alexander Waverly

The missing glitter ball is not missing. I have confiscated it
for safe keeping. The last one was damaged while being
used for a volleball at a previous party and therefore I have
erred on the side of caution.

It has also come to my attention that several members of
T.H.R.U.S.H. managed to infiltrate headquarters with the
express purpose of attending Mr. Kuryakin's birthday party.

Job, well done darting them Messers. Solo, Slate et. al.

The head of Section V is to report to my office immediately.

A. Waverly
[identity profile] insaneladybug.livejournal.com
Title: Where We Burned the Bridge
Rating: K+/PG
Summary: Mr. Waverly inspects the ruins of The Odd Man Affair's extremist organization. He finds someone else doing likewise.

Hello )
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
I wrote this in July of last of last. I quite like it, which is unusual for me because I tend not to rate my own work.

It's a short piece about Illya finding himself in an uncomfortable situation. It's called 'Discomfort', and the link takes you to ff.net.

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Illya was out of surgery by the time Mr Waverly arrived two hours later. His helicopter caused quite a stir amongst the locals, as did the two security agents he had with him. He was also accompanied by Dr Leonard Barrie, one of the doctors from U.N.C.L.E. medical. Waverly instructed Barrie to locate Mr Kuryakin, while he himself headed for the office of Dr Hawkes.

“Send Mr Solo in my direction if you would, doctor.”

Read more... )
[identity profile] avirra.livejournal.com
Since everyone else brought the food, I thought I'd bring a story for Marian's birthday present.  Hope you enoy it, cousin.

Vintages )

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Part 1

Illya awoke to an uncomfortable feeling of confinement. Opening his eyes, he found himself facing Mr Waverly, who was tied to a chair a few feet in front of him. He tried to turn his head and quickly discovered why he felt confined. The agent had been strapped to a chair, with thick leather bands which held his ankles, knees, chest, elbows, neck and head securely to the wood.

“What happened, Sir?”

Read more... )
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com

Prompts – Groggy/Orange
Word Count (approx.) – 690

As they were led between the desks in the main office of Locke Electronics, by Fiona Richards, Illya squinted at the glare from the walls.

“Who on Earth thought orange was a good colour for office space?” he complained.

The chosen shade hardly seemed conducive to any sort of concentration and it felt, to him, as though they were walking through a tangerine. Although Waverly agreed with the sentiment, he didn’t say so.

“We aren’t here to critique the décor, Mr Kuryakin.”

Chastised, Illya fell silent. Miss Richards showed the two men into the opulent office of Jacob Locke.

“If you would care to wait in here gentlemen, Mr Locke will be with you presently.”

Read more... )
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com

Prompts – Flutter/Green
Word Count (approx.) – 405

The last thing Alexander Waverly expected, when he stepped onto the roof of headquarters, was to find Illya Kuryakin tending a small garden.

Read more... )
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Alexander Waverly was apprehensive. The two men knew they were to be partnered, but had yet to meet; therein lay the rub. They were from different sides of the socio-political divide, and Solo had loudly voiced his displeasure at the decision. The American was already waiting with Waverly, when the Russian arrived.

The Old Man watched them carefully as he introduced one to the other. The body language from each was beaming out like a beacon; both men silently stating that trust was something to be earned.

However, hope glimmered for Waverly as they sat down next to each other.

[identity profile] insaneladybug.livejournal.com
And done!

Title: The Peaceful Meadows Affair, epilogue
Summary: Wrapping things up....

Fifty Million Frenchmen? )
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com

Prompts – Policy/Purple
Word Count (approx.) – 552

“Good morning, Olivia,” Napoleon enthused as he leaned in for his badge. “Are you still free for our date tonight?”

“Of course,” the blonde replied, pinning the badge on and handing Illya his. “I’ll even wear that purple dress you like.”

“Even better,” Solo answered, with a wink.

Read more... )


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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

September 2017

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