" Kuryakin, the menace"~ Snapshots

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Becoming distracted could be a dangerous thing, especially when one is working with chemicals and bunsen burners in a laboratory.  Illya Kuryakin was usually quite careful when it came to such things.

At the moment he had a beaker set atop a burner, working on one of his many experiments when he heard a couple of the the technicians having a discussion just outside the double doors to his lab.

“Can’t wait to set off that Roman candle tonight.”

“Yeah I have some bottle rockets and cherry bombs too…bet Mr. Kuryakin would like those booms.  I hear he’s pretty fond of fireworks.”

“Depends, if it’s the kind he uses to blow up things then it’s a guaranteed,” Larry said.

“Shame it rained last night,” his co-worker Greg said.

“That’s okay, we can celebrate the 4th of July tonight just the same.”

Illya pushed open the doors and stepped out, having been intrigued by the conversation.

“Gentlemen, I hope you are going to take adequate safety precautions with those explosives. Pyrotechnics can be quite dangerous when not handled carefully.

“Oh definitely sir...say Mr. Kuryakin, what’s that orange light in your lab.

Illya turned to see a three foot flame erupting at his work station. He charged through the doors, grabbing a fire extinguisher and blasted it.

When the smoke cleared, he looked around, seeing the soot marks on the ceiling and walls...there would be no hiding this. Amazing what a few seconds of flame could do, but that in and of itself was no surprise to the Russian.

“Hmmm, maybe some cleaner and paint?” Illya asked himself. He needed to cover this up for the simple reason that if he partner found out, he would torment him over it somehow. He was rather embarrassed that he let himself become distracted in the midst of an experiment. That would not happen again. HAfter swearing the techs to secrecy upon pain of death, Kuryakin proceeded to scrub the lab with a degreaser and an abrasive sponge.

It took longer than he thought and was at it for hours. His back was beginning to hurt and he nearly fell off the ladder. Finally once the cleaning was done, he purloined a gallon of paint from maintenance as well as some brushes and rollers, since the wash down didn’t remove all the stains from the soot.

It took all night, but by morning everything was looking fresh and clean, though Illya was not.

His lab coat and clothing as well as his hair were spattered with white paint and as he shuffled into his office he received odd looks from those walking the grey corridors of headquarters.

He needed to get a change of clothes and planned to head down to the men’s locker room for a quick shower and shave.

“Good morning tovarisch,” Napoleon looked him up and down. “Or is it? You look like you had a rough night. Care to tell me what you were up to?”

“I had an experiment in the lab become...ermm, complicated.”

“One that required paint?”

“Oh paint was the experiment,” Illya lied through his teeth.” I was trying to develop a paint that could...umm, pick up and boost radio signals.”

“Illya?”

Kuryakin was digging his suitcase out of the closet.”

“Yes?”

“I believe THRUSH already did that if you recall… the discotheque affair?”

“Oh,” Illya snapped his fingers. “I had a feeling there was something familiar about my idea.”

He quickly disappeared from the office with his change of clothing before his partner could interrogate him further.

Napoleon picked up his telephone receiver. “Security, can you send me the tapes of Mr. Kuryakin’s lab from last night? No copies, just the original and no record of it please, as per my order.”

“Napoleon, I really shouldn’t do that,” Tom Lopaka, the head of Section V protested.

“As a favor to me. I suspect I can use it as blackmail material, if you know what I mean?”

“Napoleon, your wish is my command, but I don’t want to know anything else brudda,” the big Hawaiian chuckled.

“Deal Tom, and thanks!” Solo grinned.”Mahalo nui loa.” He added his thanks in Hawaiian.

“Napoleon, stick to English; your accent isn’t good.”

“Good bye Tom,” he answered succinctly

“Everyone’s gotta be a critic,” he muttered to himself.

After viewing the video, Napoleon wasn’t sure if he wanted to blackmail his poor partner. He figured he’d just add the incident to Illya’s growing list ...burning down an igloo, being responsible for awakening an underwater volcano, and now nearly burning down the UNCLE lab.

Maybe he’d cut the guy a break.... or maybe not? Solo chuckled to himself.

Comments

[lilidelafield.livejournal.com]

Hey thank you for posting this. I really needed it. I chuckled and giggled all the way through it! Poor Illya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Glad you enjoyed it! This was rather cathartic for me as I had a little bit of a stove mishap last night...what a mess! Am still cleaning up after it and now painting. ugh. This is a case of art imitating life...

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Ah... art imitates life. ;D It's good! Smokin' good. "Well done."


I swear, I didn't read the comment above before writing my comment.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yes, you know the true story! "D Thanks!

[pfrye.livejournal.com]

Awww....poor Illya. NS is accumulating evidence for a future need it seems.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I think they both lay in a supply of material to use for a future blackmail scenario. lol! Thanks for the comment. :D