"Tomorrow is another day" ~ for the Short Affair

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

-Challenge: The Short Affair

-Prompt Word #2 – Pay

-Prompt Colour – Grey

Author: mrua7

Title: Tomorrow is another day

Word count: Approx. 1000

Napoleon stripped off the remnants of his bloody shirt and suit jacket; gazing for a moment into the bathroom mirror at the gash running down from his shoulder to his chest.

It was more than just the Solo luck that got him by on this one; admittedly it was the quick reflexes of his partner that kept the blade from plunging any deeper than it had.

Illya, despite being in rough shape himself, managed to grab his parther just as the crazed man with the hunting knife was driving the blade downwards. It still connected with Solo, but not deep enough to cause major damage.

The Russian looked positively grey after the beating he’d been given less than an hour prior, but that didn’t stop him.  Napoleon was grateful for that inner reserve of strength and determination his partner always seemed to find when things looked bad.

Once Solo was out of the way Illya dispatched their knife-wielding adversary with a single shot, a sleep dart instead of a live round. The man had no idea how lucky he was that Illya hadn’t made him pay with his life, very lucky indeed.

Napoleon paused to look at himself in the bathroom mirror as he grabbed a white hand towel on a nearby shelf, and turning on the water in the sink; he dampened it and began to wash his wound. That was about the best he could he could until they could find a chemist in the morning. He was pale, most likely in a bit of shock, but at least he was alive.

He looked down at the water grimacing at the color; it had turned crimson red from his blood each time he rinsed out the towel.

They always carried a few gauze patches in their luggage for treating minor scrapes, though this was far from that. He selected the largest one, though it barely covered the wound.

Napoleon reached for the leather-bound flask he always carried with him... for medicinal purposes he chuckled to himself, and poured a bit of scotch on the gauze.  Placing it against the wound he hissed as it burned, and took a swig from the flask, letting the warmth of the alcohol fill him.

When he walked from the bathroom the American was going to say something to his partner but stopped himself...Illya, though cut and bruised, was sound asleep on the bed.

The agent shook his head; should he wake Illya and get him to the bathroom to tend his injuries or not? There was a chance his partner had broken ribs from the rough landing when the man dove in front of him to fend off the knife attack.

Napoleon decided to wake the Russian bear, as knowing Illya he’d go right back into hibernation once his injuries were given enough attention as he would permit.

“Tovarisch? Illya?”

“Mmmm yes, I am awake,” his eyes were barely open and looking a bit blood shot.

“Sorry to disturb you, but we need to check those ribs.”

A sound the equivalent of a grunt came from the Russian. “Later.”

“No not later.”

“Yes later.”

Napoleon ignored him and walked back to the bathroom where he filled washing small basin with warm soapy water. He brought it, a washcloth and a dry towel with him and returned to the dozing Russian.

One blue eye opened, glaring at him. “I said later.”

“I’m senior agent and I say now, capisce?” Napoleon gave him a firm look.

He carefully washed Illya’s face and hands, and the blood caked on his scalp.  Luckily they were small cuts and unlike Solo’s wound wouldn’t require stitches.

Once satisfied with the job, he slowly unbuttoned the Russian’s dirty white shirt. Helping Illya to sit up, the shirt was removed revealing a large multicolored bruise on Kuryakin’s side.

"This is going to hurt a little...here drink some of this tovarisch.” Solo offered his flask.

“Scotch?”Illya made one of his rare faces.

“Sorry I forgot to fill it with vodka just for you, even though it is my flask.”

“Funny,” Kuryakin snatched the flask and took several swallows.

He hissed as Napoleon touched his side, poking and palpating until the American was satisfied the ribs were probably not broken. Just in case, Solo decided to wrap them with an ace bandage they carried with them in their luggage.

“You know I think we need to start carrying a full first aid kit from now on chum.”

“I do not think accounting will approve the added expense,” Illya mumbled as he slowly raised his arms above his head.

“It is bad enough we have to replace our luggage and clothing most of the time. That is why I do not understand why you bring expensive suits with you when on assignment.”

“Here we go again” Napoleon groaned.”I refuse to sacrifice style as I do have a reputation to uphold you know.”

“And what is my reputation my friend?” Illya lowered his arms, running his hand along the bandage enveloping his rib cage.

“Stubborn, mysterious, stoic, loyal to a fault...I won’t discuss your wardrobe. Shall I go on?”

Kuryakin flashed a brief smile.”Thank you, so kind of you to notice, though there is nothing wrong with my choice of clothing.”

Napoleon chuckled at that. “No, but they’re off the rack and I’ll leave it at that. Speaking of thank you’s; I appreciate what you did for me back there, but you’re not my personal bodyguard Illya.”

“So you have told me many times, but no matter what you say...I will always have your back, or in this case your front and in that my answer is final.” Kuryakin didn’t wait for Napoleon’s reply, and rolled over with his back to his partner, intending to go to sleep.

“And I have yours chum,” Napoleon smiled, tucking the coverlet around the blond.  He crawled in the bed beside his friend, carefully lowering himself to his pillow for some much needed rest. He winced as he tried to find a comfortable position.

He for one was very grateful to have Illya Kuryakin by his side; though he didn’t like the man taking undue risks on his behalf, he still appreciated them. He reminded himself, tomorrow is another day...one that he'd live to see thanks to his partner. 

Napoleon smiled as he stared up at the ceiling until his eyes grew heavy; drifting off to sleep at last to the sounds of his partner’s snoring.

He should have added that to his list describing Illya's reputation...

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Very good :-)

The two of them will always watch out for each other, and patch each other up. Every single time.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you thank you! This was another fic I wasn't too sure about, but since you liked it then I guess it was all right after all! :D

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Very nice. I love the banter you write; it's always on the money. I agree with the blond. Off the rack is OK with me too.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Hee heeee, thank you for you compliments and for commenting. Eventually Illya discovers the benefits of better suits...i.e. that lovely grey fitted suit. :D

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Nice touch at the end.

Brave fulfilling of Napoleon's duty, disturbing a sleepy Illya. Illya won't put that in the report, either.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! Nor will Napoleon mention IK's snoring in a report either...."D