http://jantojones.livejournal.com/ (
jantojones.livejournal.com) wrote in
section7mfu2016-04-25 09:49 pm
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
A Dangerous Mistake - Short Affair - April 25th

Prompts - Spike/Green
Word Count (Approx.) - 337
I hope this is okay. I didn't have a lot of time and bashed this out in 15 minutes.
*****************************************************************************
For several seconds, each of which seemed to cover an eternity, no-one made a sound, nor took a breath. Illya Kuryakin stared at the arrow, which was still quivering by his head, before shifting his icy glare to the young man who was holding the bow. The four people standing around the would-be archer visibly stepped away from him. The man himself had turned a sickly shade of green, having realised what he’d almost done.
With a scary ease, Illya pulled the arrow from the wall of HQ’s archery range, and strode towards his accidental assailant. He held the projectile close to the terrified man’s face.
“I take it you were taught archery before you graduated Survival School.”
Illya’s voice was quiet and calm, but this only served to add to the fear in the room. The newly-qualified agents had been told tales of the Russian with ice in his veins, although they didn’t quite believe the stories until now.
“Yes Sir,” the archer squeaked.
“Name?”
“Dennis Worsley, Sir?”
“I do not appreciate having spikes of any kind fired at me,” Illya stated. “But I have a particular hatred of arrows. Why were you firing away from the target?”
“Erm . . .”
“Well!”
“I . . .I was about to fire when someone spoke,” Worsley explained, the words tumbling from his mouth with speed. “I turned as I fired. It was an accident, Sir.”
“There is no such thing as an accident when it comes to weaponry!” Kuryakin yelled.
The sudden loudness in the room caused everyone to jump, and Illya was almost certain Worsley had just soiled himself. The Russian lowered his voice again, and leaned in close.
“You will report to Mr Solo at two o’clock,” he instructed. “Where your orders to return to Survival School will be waiting. Be very grateful that I am not recommending your removal as an agent.”
“Yes Sir, thank you.”
“Now, everybody out!” Illya ordered. “I don’t want a lot of ill-disciplined children around while I am practicing.”
.