Take the Q train, Napoleon said...
Aug. 24th, 2012 03:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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section7mfuSummary: Illya runs iinto some complicatins while taking the train to meet Napoleon..
RatIing:Gen
________________________________________________________
The Q train in service on the Brighton Line in New York was filthy, with pages of the Daily News scattered all over the floor of the car and of course there was a pungent odor in the air, eau-de-urine.
Most likely it was from the only other occupant in the car besides the Russian who eyed the bum, noting his foul, mismatched clothes; a near empty 40 oz. bottle of Schlitz beer gripped tightly in his hand that was blackened with dirt that looked like it was tattooed on his skin.
Somehow Illya’s gaze woke the man who eyed him back and staggered over, sitting beside him asking with rancid breath if he wanted a drink; offering the bottle to the U.N.C.L.E. agent.
The Russian fended him off with a shove, wiping his hand on his handkerchief, then folding it...wiping his brow as he began to perspire on a cold day, of all things.
The smells and rocking of the train were triggering a bout of motion sickness. Knowing that he couldn't get off; he had to make it to the end of the line to meet Napoleon.
Illya asked himself if could get any worse...of course it did, as the bum vomited on his shoes.
“Chyort voz mi!” He cursed, shoving the now passed out drunkard away from him. He used his handkerchief again, to clean his shoes as best he could, but the smell was still there, and deposited the ruined handkerchief on the floor, just as the bum was coming to.
The train finally reached it's destination and Illya stepped with relief out onto the platform, seeing his partner standing there, looking impatiently at his watch.
As he walked closer, Napoleon got a whiff of the pungent odor emanating from him.
“What were you doing, rolling around in the gutter? You smell awful.” Napoleon crinkled his nose in disgust.
“Long story, but suffice to say I was accosted by a vomitus drunk on the train.” Illya grumbled. “Now why did you get me out here, and it better be good.”
“Well, considering your condition, I don’t think what I had in mind is going to happen.”
“And what exactly is that?”
“I had a double date planned with two Slavic beauties who need a bit of warming on a chilly November day,” he said, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them.
“Napoleon, have I not told you in the past, do not set me up with dates. I can take care of that myself when I wish.” The Russian rolled his eyes.
“Gee,” Napoleon said, dejection clear in his voice.”I thought you’d like meeting a Russian girl.”
“Perhaps, but one of my own choosing and in my own time, please. Go on your date, I am sure you will have no trouble figuring out what to do with the pair of them. I will go home and clean myself up. I think I have a nice bottle of vodka in the freezer that will warm me quite well.
“No, I can’t do that, it’s my fault. Let me make a phone call and cancel. Stay here, I’ll be right back. Napoleon disappeared to the nearest pay phone, and was gone only a few minutes.
“That settles that,” he said upon his return. “Come on, my car is parked down the block. The wind blew as the two agents walked together, though Napoleon made sure he was upwind of the Russian.
Illya climbed into the passenger side, settling himself in comfortably.
Napoleon sat behind the wheel, starting the car, letting the engine purr for a moment. He sniffed the air, finding the stench now coming from his partner unbearable in a small space.
“Wait a minute,” he said flicking a switch, stepping out of the silver convertible. It took but a minute for the roof to detach and fold up. Napoleon grabbed his overcoat from the back seat, quickly putting it on.
“Oh come on!” Illya groused, as he was not wearing a coat. “I am not that bad.”
“Wanna bet?” Napoleon got behind the wheel again, putting the car in gear and heading off down the street.
The wind was even colder as it whipped through Illya’s blond hair, making him think it would have been better if he’d just rode the train home, taking his chances with the other vagrants who rode it, especially in the cold weather. “It could be worse,” he mumbled as he crossed his arms in front of himself to keep warm.
It indeed became worse, starting to snow as Napoleon slowed to a stop at a red light, and the same drunk from the train appeared beside the car.
“Heeeeey, buddy spare two bits for a man down on his luck?” He suddenly gagged, letting himself hurl right into Napoleon’s lap. “Oh for cripe sake,” the agent decried.
He dug two dollars out of his pocket, handing it to the man.
“Don’t use it on booze. Go eat and sober up will you buddy?” He hit the switch, sending the car roof back up, snapping it into place. The last thing he did was to remove his coat and hand it to the drunk.
He got back into the car, turning the heater on high. “Open your window please.”
Illya looked at him incredulously. “Only you could have someone spew on you and still come up smelling like a rose.”
“It’s a gift, what can I tell you.” Napoleon grinned as he took off towards home.
RatIing:Gen
________________________________________________________
The Q train in service on the Brighton Line in New York was filthy, with pages of the Daily News scattered all over the floor of the car and of course there was a pungent odor in the air, eau-de-urine.
Most likely it was from the only other occupant in the car besides the Russian who eyed the bum, noting his foul, mismatched clothes; a near empty 40 oz. bottle of Schlitz beer gripped tightly in his hand that was blackened with dirt that looked like it was tattooed on his skin.
Somehow Illya’s gaze woke the man who eyed him back and staggered over, sitting beside him asking with rancid breath if he wanted a drink; offering the bottle to the U.N.C.L.E. agent.
The Russian fended him off with a shove, wiping his hand on his handkerchief, then folding it...wiping his brow as he began to perspire on a cold day, of all things.
The smells and rocking of the train were triggering a bout of motion sickness. Knowing that he couldn't get off; he had to make it to the end of the line to meet Napoleon.
Illya asked himself if could get any worse...of course it did, as the bum vomited on his shoes.
“Chyort voz mi!” He cursed, shoving the now passed out drunkard away from him. He used his handkerchief again, to clean his shoes as best he could, but the smell was still there, and deposited the ruined handkerchief on the floor, just as the bum was coming to.
The train finally reached it's destination and Illya stepped with relief out onto the platform, seeing his partner standing there, looking impatiently at his watch.
As he walked closer, Napoleon got a whiff of the pungent odor emanating from him.
“What were you doing, rolling around in the gutter? You smell awful.” Napoleon crinkled his nose in disgust.
“Long story, but suffice to say I was accosted by a vomitus drunk on the train.” Illya grumbled. “Now why did you get me out here, and it better be good.”
“Well, considering your condition, I don’t think what I had in mind is going to happen.”
“And what exactly is that?”
“I had a double date planned with two Slavic beauties who need a bit of warming on a chilly November day,” he said, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them.
“Napoleon, have I not told you in the past, do not set me up with dates. I can take care of that myself when I wish.” The Russian rolled his eyes.
“Gee,” Napoleon said, dejection clear in his voice.”I thought you’d like meeting a Russian girl.”
“Perhaps, but one of my own choosing and in my own time, please. Go on your date, I am sure you will have no trouble figuring out what to do with the pair of them. I will go home and clean myself up. I think I have a nice bottle of vodka in the freezer that will warm me quite well.
“No, I can’t do that, it’s my fault. Let me make a phone call and cancel. Stay here, I’ll be right back. Napoleon disappeared to the nearest pay phone, and was gone only a few minutes.
“That settles that,” he said upon his return. “Come on, my car is parked down the block. The wind blew as the two agents walked together, though Napoleon made sure he was upwind of the Russian.
Illya climbed into the passenger side, settling himself in comfortably.
Napoleon sat behind the wheel, starting the car, letting the engine purr for a moment. He sniffed the air, finding the stench now coming from his partner unbearable in a small space.
“Wait a minute,” he said flicking a switch, stepping out of the silver convertible. It took but a minute for the roof to detach and fold up. Napoleon grabbed his overcoat from the back seat, quickly putting it on.
“Oh come on!” Illya groused, as he was not wearing a coat. “I am not that bad.”
“Wanna bet?” Napoleon got behind the wheel again, putting the car in gear and heading off down the street.
The wind was even colder as it whipped through Illya’s blond hair, making him think it would have been better if he’d just rode the train home, taking his chances with the other vagrants who rode it, especially in the cold weather. “It could be worse,” he mumbled as he crossed his arms in front of himself to keep warm.
It indeed became worse, starting to snow as Napoleon slowed to a stop at a red light, and the same drunk from the train appeared beside the car.
“Heeeeey, buddy spare two bits for a man down on his luck?” He suddenly gagged, letting himself hurl right into Napoleon’s lap. “Oh for cripe sake,” the agent decried.
He dug two dollars out of his pocket, handing it to the man.
“Don’t use it on booze. Go eat and sober up will you buddy?” He hit the switch, sending the car roof back up, snapping it into place. The last thing he did was to remove his coat and hand it to the drunk.
He got back into the car, turning the heater on high. “Open your window please.”
Illya looked at him incredulously. “Only you could have someone spew on you and still come up smelling like a rose.”
“It’s a gift, what can I tell you.” Napoleon grinned as he took off towards home.
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Date: 2012-08-24 08:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-24 08:15 pm (UTC)