Friendship - Short Affair - Sept 21st
Sep. 21st, 2015 09:36 pmPrompts – Leaf/Purple
Word Count (approx.) – 342
“It was a dark and stormy night,” Napoleon murmured as he stared out of the hotel window, at the ominous purple sky and black clouds.
“Shouldn’t that be ‘is’?” came a pain-filled voice from the bed.
“Probably,” Solo replied, looking over to his sick colleague. “But those cheesy detective novels always start in the past tense.”
“You do not have to stay here, my friend,” Illya told his partner. “I know you are bored. I’m sure you can go out and find some better company.”
Ordinarily, whenever they found themselves away from home following an assignment, Napoleon would have no qualms about heading out for the evening. This time was different. During the course of shutting down another satrap, Illya had been exposed to an unknown gas. They were too far from any U.N.C.L.E. office, but a visit to a nearby hospital was enough to assuage their fears. Illya had been exposed to a modified influenza. The doctor assured him he would recover, but he would be quite unwell for a couple of days.
Naturally, despite protestations from the doctor and Napoleon, Illya refused to stay at the hospital. So, armed with medications to relieve the Russian’s symptoms, the agents booked into a local hotel; with the permission of Mr Waverly.
“I’m going nowhere, Tovarisch,” Napoleon told Illya. “Someone has to make sure you take your medicine.”
Illya huffed, which thanks to his difficulty in breathing, rapidly turned into a coughing fit and then caused him to vomit. Napoleon had seen what was about to happen and hurriedly helped him to sit up, and placed the waste paper basket in front of him. He rubbed the stricken man’s back until the vomiting subsided.
“You see, I can’t trust you not to choke to death if I leave you on your own.”
The fact Illya was deathly pale, and shaking like a leaf were also contributory factors to Solo staying put. As his partner fell into a fevered sleep, Napoleon wondered once again why it was Illya who bore the brunt yet again.
Word Count (approx.) – 342
“It was a dark and stormy night,” Napoleon murmured as he stared out of the hotel window, at the ominous purple sky and black clouds.
“Shouldn’t that be ‘is’?” came a pain-filled voice from the bed.
“Probably,” Solo replied, looking over to his sick colleague. “But those cheesy detective novels always start in the past tense.”
“You do not have to stay here, my friend,” Illya told his partner. “I know you are bored. I’m sure you can go out and find some better company.”
Ordinarily, whenever they found themselves away from home following an assignment, Napoleon would have no qualms about heading out for the evening. This time was different. During the course of shutting down another satrap, Illya had been exposed to an unknown gas. They were too far from any U.N.C.L.E. office, but a visit to a nearby hospital was enough to assuage their fears. Illya had been exposed to a modified influenza. The doctor assured him he would recover, but he would be quite unwell for a couple of days.
Naturally, despite protestations from the doctor and Napoleon, Illya refused to stay at the hospital. So, armed with medications to relieve the Russian’s symptoms, the agents booked into a local hotel; with the permission of Mr Waverly.
“I’m going nowhere, Tovarisch,” Napoleon told Illya. “Someone has to make sure you take your medicine.”
Illya huffed, which thanks to his difficulty in breathing, rapidly turned into a coughing fit and then caused him to vomit. Napoleon had seen what was about to happen and hurriedly helped him to sit up, and placed the waste paper basket in front of him. He rubbed the stricken man’s back until the vomiting subsided.
“You see, I can’t trust you not to choke to death if I leave you on your own.”
The fact Illya was deathly pale, and shaking like a leaf were also contributory factors to Solo staying put. As his partner fell into a fevered sleep, Napoleon wondered once again why it was Illya who bore the brunt yet again.
no subject
Date: 2015-09-22 03:30 am (UTC)melancholicky...cough cough.. poor baby. It could go longer, we need to check his recovery.
no subject
Date: 2015-09-22 08:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-09-22 01:23 pm (UTC)