Telling The Future - Short Affair 11/9

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

annoy, trinket

……………………………………..

"Are you trying to annoy me or is it just something that comes naturally to you?" The tone of his voice enough to make Abigail sit very still.  She no longer felt any need to fidget or chatter on endlessly about nothing.  No, she was going to be good… and quiet.

"Thorry mith-ter, I dint mean to … What wuth it you thaid?"  Illya hung his head in remorse.  He shouldn't have snapped at the little girl, she could hardly help the circumstances.  She was a victim, an innocent in all of this.

"It is I who must apologize Abigail.  I am very sorry if I …' He turned to look at her and then was assaulted by the sight of tears running down her chubby cheeks.

"Oh, please… please don't cry.  Oh my… um… Here…" Illya managed to fish out a small trinket from the depths of his jacket pocket; a random souvenir he had thought to add to his own collection..

"Here, you may have this.."  That wasn't the answer, Abigail wailed now, inconsolable after being chastised by the blond man.  She was a good girl, he shouldn't be…

"I'm sorry Abigail.  You are not annoying."  That was the word.

"I'm good, and thweet."  Her lisp was endearing, even to the likes of Illya Kuryakin.

"You are very good, and I am terribly sorry to have made you cry. Can you forgive me?"

Abigail swallowed her tears and looked straight into the blue eyes of the man who had saved her from some ugly thugs.  The same thugs who had hurt her daddy.  Where was daddy now?  A new round of wailing washed over the Russian as he endeavored to quiet the child and find a way out of their hiding spot.

"Abigail, now what is it?  Why are you crying?"  Females were undecipherable, even at this age.

"I want my daaaaaddddyyyy…."  The word drew out into several sob filled syllables, and then Illya understood a bit of her fear, and of the grief threatening to overtake her.

"He is fine, I promise you.  My friend, Napoleon… he took him to a safe place.  He's waiting for us now.' That seemed to quiet her some, so he continued.

"I just need to get this door unlocked so that we can get out of here and go to where they are.  Do you understand?"  She nodded her head, a mop of brown curls wagging with every movement.

"Yeth-thir, I'll be good.  And quiet."  Illya looked at the girl, a slight catch in his throat reminding him that even a cold-hearted spy could be moved by the likes of Abigail.

It didn't take long and the reunion was all that it should have been between father and child.  Abigail shrieked with delight as Dr. Fallan Albright scooped her up in his arms, hugging and crying at the relief he felt.

Illya and Napoleon stood their ground, neither of them admitting the wellspring of emotion that was dammed up behind their somber facade.  Mr. Waverly observed it, took note of the veneer of calm and distance.

'Hmmm… how long before sentiment and emotionalism overtake their zeal for justice?' A fleeting thought that the old man stuffed into a mental filing cabinet full of unspoken concerns.

Comments

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

Hopefully they can find a way to have both sntiment and emotions and the zeal of justice. Nicely written, and the way you were able to make what the little girl was saying was great

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

So sweet. I love Illya's attempts to console the child.

My niece used to lisp deliberately. She knew how much it annoyed me :-)

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Very sweet, and I love Mr Waverly's concerns about them being too human.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thanks, that dialogue was fun to do.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Perhaps you and IK have something in common... oh wait, he was charmed by it ;)

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

I think Waverly is always aware that the cracks may turn into gaping holes.