Some Regret - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

The suitcase fell to the floor with a thud as the weary traveler sank into his leather chair.  No  ceremony, no chipper 'boy it's great to be home'.  Not this time.

Napoleon Solo felt old, his body ached and his face was going to be sporting a bruise the size of a man's fist tomorrow morning. Within minutes a knock at the door signaled that his partner wanted in; he yelled and hoped Illya would hear it.  As the lock turned it was evident he had.

Hobbling on crutches, the Russian entered, immediately sorry he hadn't had his partner's back.