Chistmas is What You Make it - Picfic Tuesday - Dec 8th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

I apologise for this being a bit naff. It's been a busy day.

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The sun was setting on over the island bar, but there were no patrons to see it. Only one man remained in the ramshackle shack, and he helped himself to a drink before going and sitting on the warm sand. He smiled at the incongruous coloured lights which were wrapped around the trunk of a palm tree and glanced at his watch. It would be Christmas day in a few hours, and thanks to some hard work by both him and his partner, the people of this island were still alive to celebrate the day. They wouldn’t be able to return to the island until it had been deemed safe, but at least they would have a home to which they could return.

A figure sat down next to him in the sand, causing Napoleon to automatically reach for his weapon.

“Sorry,” Illya stated. “I called to you as I came onto the beach.”

“I was miles away,” Solo muttered, taking his hand from the gun.

Illya frowned. It was never a good thing when Napoleon was down after a mission. Admittedly, they often witnessed the worst of humankind, but they’d had a good result today. The bad buys had been stopped and no-one had been hurt; and that included to two agents.

“A team of experts will be arriving the day after tomorrow to supervise the removal of the chemicals and the dismantling of the manufacturing plant.”

“They get to have Christmas first then?” Napoleon muttered.

So that was the problem.

“Were you going to your Aunt Amy’s?” Illya asked.

“Yes,” Solo confirmed. “You were invited too by the way, but this assignment happened before I could ask you.”

“Does that mean she’s spending Christmas alone?”

Napoleon appreciated the concern in his friend’s voice. Aunt Amy had a bit of a soft spot for the Russian, and it was nice knowing that it was mutual.

“Not at all,” he assured the other man. “We were two of ten guests, so she’ll still have plenty of company.”

“We could still celebrate Christmas,” Illya told him. “We have to stay here until the clean-up team are finished, so why don’t we just put something together at the hotel down the road?”


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The following afternoon found Napoleon and Illya in the kitchen of the hotel. They had just put the finishing touches to a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. It was a constant bewilderment to Illya that people took winter holidays to warm places to avoid the weather, but still insisted on having a traditional Christmas. It was because of this that the hotel had everything the two men needed for their own dinner.

They took their food out to the restaurant and sat at a table by the window. Napoleon poured two glasses of wine and held his own up for a toast.

“This may not be the Christmas I had envisioned, but I have good food, good company and modicum of safety. Happy Christmas my friend.”

“С Рождеством!” (Merry Christmas)

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Thank you :-)
I'd give anything to spend Christmas on my own. Just once though.