And — on a much lighter note than my previous — here's my response to this week's drabble switch.
By the time they got to the garage, there were only two objects left in it: a pail of hardware fasteners, and a shallow pan of oil. The microdot had to be concealed in one of them.
“You deal with the oil,” said Napoleon. “I'm not dressed for it.”
With a sigh, Illya rolled up the sleeves of his turtleneck. Napoleon, meanwhile, set to work minutely examining every nut, bolt, and washer in the pail.
A short time later, Illya piped up: “I'm done.”
His hands were completely clean.
“You haven't even touched that oil.”
Illya cocked an eyebrow. “If she'd left the dot in the oil, it would be of no use anyway: the dye would have dissolved by now. I've thoroughly checked the outside of the pan. It isn't there. So it's probably somewhere in that bucket.”
“I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a hand?”
no subject
Date: 2016-09-22 12:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-22 01:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-22 02:56 am (UTC)“I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a hand?”
At this point, Illya should stand and give Napoleon a hearty round of applause.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-22 12:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-22 02:19 pm (UTC)