
Prompts - Hitch/Powder Blue
Word Count (Approx.) - 603
“Are you absolutely certain you don’t want to join us for Christmas lunch tomorrow?” Napoleon asked. “There’ll be more than enough. Even for you.”
“Thank you, again,” Illya replied. “Please give my apologies and thanks to your Aunt Amy, but I have a previous invitation.”
Solo waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
“So who is the lucky lady who managed to do what half the women here have been trying to do for years?”
“That is for me to know,” Illya told him pointedly, as he donned his coat, scarf and gloves.
“Okay, Illya, keep your secrets. It’ll no doubt be all over HQ the day after tomorrow.”
“Enjoy your day, my friend,” Illya said as he made to leave the office. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Tovarisch.”
……………………………………………………………………………………………………
At 2pm the following afternoon, Illya knocked on the door of his landlady, Mrs Danby, armed with a wrapped box of chocolates. The old lady usually had her son and daughter-in-law for Christmas, but he had been sent overseas by his company and wouldn’t be returning until the New Year. Knowing that Illya was a single man she’d asked him if he would like to join her for lunch. He hadn’t been sure at first, but his own cultural background reminded him that it was his duty to accept Mrs Danby’s invitation. She was a grandmother, a babushka, and grandmothers were revered. Besides, he liked her, and she enjoyed hearing tales of his homeland.
The door opened and he was greeted by a very frantic Mrs Danby.
“Oh, Mr Kuryakin! Is it 2pm already. I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a hitch. The turkey is cooked but my cooker has stopped working before I could finish off the gravy.”
“Let me take a look at it,” Illya said with a smile.
It turned out to be a loose wire, which Illya fixed very easily, so it wasn’t long before they were sitting down to one of the best meals Illya had ever tasted. He had eaten many types of food, in many countries but there was something about a simple home cooked meal which beat everything else.
“Your son must be unhappy to be missing out on such wonderful food, Mrs Danby,” he commented, after completely clearing his plate of his second helpings.
“I’m surprised a skinny thing like you could find room to put it,” the old woman laughed. “You must have hollow legs.”
Illya smiled warmly. “My Babushka used to tell me that. Oh,” he suddenly exclaimed. “With all the excitement with the cooker, I almost forgot.”
He went into the kitchen to retrieve the chocolates he’d abandoned there earlier.
“С Рождеством.”
“Thank you,” Mrs Danby replied. “I’m going to assume that means merry Christmas.”
“That is correct.”
“I have something for you too,” the old woman announced. “It’s just under the tree behind you. And don’t start saying I shouldn’t have, because I know I should. It’s not a lot, but I hope you’ll like it.”
Illya looked through the small pile of gifts until he found one with a tag bearing his name. Carefully tearing away the paper he found a thick, hand-knitted woollen scarf. It looked to be quite warm.
“Did you make this yourself?” he asked.
“I did,” she told him. “I hope you like the colour. Powder blue matches those lovely eyes of yours.”
He wrapped it around his shoulders, finding himself feeling slightly emotional. Not that he showed it on the outside, but to receive such a lovingly crafted gift was something which rarely happened to him.
“I shall wear it with pride,” he promised.
.
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Date: 2015-12-15 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2015-12-15 08:40 am (UTC)I always imagine Illya to be popular with old ladies for some reason.
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Date: 2015-12-15 08:40 am (UTC)Glad you like it.
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Date: 2015-12-15 08:41 am (UTC)It's a big part of Russian culture to almost venerate older people. Especially grandmothers.
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Date: 2015-12-15 08:43 am (UTC)Angst is my favourite, but every so often I like to show Illya as the respectful charmer that he is.
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Date: 2015-12-15 09:49 pm (UTC)