Thankful Non-Americans -Short Affair - Nov 23rd

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Prompts Wipe/Gold
Word Count (Approx.) - 476

Illya squinted against the golden, early morning sunlight and yawned himself into full wakefulness. It took him a few seconds to remember he had gone to sleep in the back of Mark Slate’s car.

“It’s morning,” he mumbled, stating the obvious.

“There’s no flies on you, mate,” Mark replied. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“As I said last night, I’m fine,” the Russian replied, a little too tersely. “Have you driven non-stop all night?”

“Yep,” Slate answered. “You took quite a beating on this affair, and I think you should see a doctor. That huge goon practically wiped the floor with you. Since I know you won’t agree to go to a hospital, I thought it best to get you back to HQ. We’ll be there in an hour.”

Illya was about to argue that he was okay, but a sudden twinge from a probably cracked rib forced him to concede Mark’s point.

“At least pull over and let me get into the front.”

Once they set away again, and Illya was settled in the passenger seat, the two travelled in a companionable silence for a while.

“Hey! I’ve just realised something,” Mark blurted out, rousing Illya from a light doze. “It’s Thanksgiving today.”

“Neither of us is American,” Illya murmured, closing his eyes again.

“You really do get grumpier when you’re hurt,” said Slate, with a smile. “What does it matter that we aren’t American? Surely the idea of having things to be thankful for is a universal sentiment.”

For the second time, Illya had to accept Mark’s point while ignoring the ‘grumpy’ insult.

“You’re right,” he answered. “And let’s face it, in our line of work, we have a lot to be thankful for.”

“You’re not wrong,” the Brit agreed. “What are you thankful for?”

“You go first,” Kuryakin urged.

“Okay. I suppose I’m thankful for U.N.C.L.E.” he said. “It might be a bloody dangerous way of life, which will probably kill me early, but it beats anything else I could be doing. I have a brilliant partner, a couple of fantastic friends, and birds on tap.”

“Birds? You mean THRUSH?”

“No,” laughed Mark. “Birds as in women. Come on then, what about you?”

“I too am thankful for U.N.C.L.E., my partner and my friends,” Illya told him. “Because of U.N.C.L.E. I get to see the world. I have an apartment which I don’t have to share. I have relative freedom and security. Most importantly however, I have friends who I trust.”

“Do you have any plans for this evening?” Mark asked him. “Once you’ve escaped from medical that is.”

Illya told him that he didn’t. Anyone he might have made plans with were spending the day with family or were on assignment.

“Great. How about you and I have our very own European Thanksgiving?”

Illya smiled.

“I can’t think of anything better.”

Comments

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Oh, brilliant. Love the fact that Mark has evidently given up on even trying to persuade Illya to see a doctor. And I like the idea of them spending thanksgiving together as well. Why not? As long as someone has food in the cupboard.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Thank you :-)
I imagine that any agent, who works with Illya often enough, knows not to bother trying to persuade him to see a doctor.

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Yeah....I can imagine them calling Napoleon to get him to order him to see a doctor. Don't think that would work either.