[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] section7mfu
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Prompts – Paint/Copper
Word Count (approx.) – 663



Napoleon whistled cheerfully as he bounded up the steps to Illya’s apartment, wearing fresh-from-the-packet coveralls, and carrying a set of paint brushes. They were both on a week’s leave and the senior agent had agreed to help the Russian spruce up his apartment. Having spent most of his life moving around, Illya had been disinclined to stamp his own mark on place, assuming he would be moved on at any moment. However, after living in the same New York apartment for almost five years, he’d decided that it was time to acknowledge it as his home. His partner had been all too willing to help out when he was asked.

Rapping out a jaunty knock, the American continued to whistle as he waited. Half a minute later the tune faded, as Napoleon realised he was still waiting. Illya’s apartment consisted of a living-cum-dining room, a modest kitchen, a small bedroom and a bathroom, so it really shouldn’t take more than a few seconds for him to answer the door. Solo knocked again, calling out Illya’s name as he did so. Again, there was no answer, so reaching into his pocket, Napoleon retrieved his key for the apartment, and let himself in.

The living room showed evidence of the intent to decorate. Sitting on top of a sheet of newspaper, on the small dining table, there was the lid of a can of paint. The can itself was obviously in one of the other rooms. Leaning against the table was a small, paint spattered ladder.

“Illya!”

A tight ball began to form Napoleon’s stomach. If Illya was there, he would surely have made his presence known. Of course, Solo told himself, he could have simply have run out to get something he’d forgotten to get. Moving into the kitchen, Napoleon placed his hand against Illya’s prized copper samovar, and found it warm to the touch. Going back to the living room, Napoleon called out Illya’s name yet again, and that was when he heard the loud, low moan.

He dashed into the bedroom, and on into the bathroom and found Illya, lying on his left side, wedged between the bathtub and the toilet bowl. The yellow paint he’d been using covered half of his upper torso, and head, as well as most of the newspaper he’d protected the floor with.

“Hey chum,” Solo greeted as he squatted down beside him. “Are you with me?”

“Nap. . .oleon?” Kuryakin groaned.

“What happened?”

Slowly, and groggily, Illya explained that he’d been standing on the edge of the bathtub in order to reach the higher parts of the wall. He’d somehow lost his footing and had fallen. He wasn’t sure, but he estimated he’d been stuck for about thirty minutes.

“Don’t move, I’ll get help.”


…………………………………………………………………….


A few hours later, after ignoring medical advice, Illya was back in his apartment. Despite the awkwardness of his fall, his only major injury was the two broken bones in his left forearm. He had quite a few bruises forming, and the doctor was a little concerned about a concussion, but all in all it could have been much worse.

“So, Tovarisch,” Napoleon began, as he handed Illya a glass of tea. “How come Mr Cat-like Agility slipped from the edge of the tub, and what was so hard about using the ladder?”

Illya merely shrugged in reply. It was an embarrassing accident, which would keep him from the field for a few weeks. He would rather just forget it.

“I guess the re-decorating will have to wait until my next leave.”

“You’ve still got one good arm,” Solo countered. “As long as we stop you from climbing on stuff, we should get the whole place done within the week. Honestly Illya, don’t you get injured enough at work? You’re a danger to yourself.”

Date: 2015-06-08 04:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jkkitty.livejournal.com
Sound like something I would do. this made me smile

Date: 2015-06-08 05:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
This is very believable, and well written. I like Napoleon's New England attitude.

Date: 2015-06-08 07:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
Excuse me. I meant his 'make it do' attitude. After al, they hstill had three functioning arms between them.

Date: 2015-06-08 07:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
Love the last line! At least Napoleon's optimism is still showing though in spite of his partner's unusual clumsiness. Good little story.

Date: 2015-06-09 06:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com

He must have been in his socks, very bad move. Happily Illya will recover, and Napoleon can paint:)

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