[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] section7mfu
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Prompts - Confiscate/Black
Word Count - 406


Living in the decadent west meant that Illya was free to pursue pastimes which were frowned upon at home. Some of his countrymen would even go so far as to call him subversive. His favourite diversion was jazz, and living in New York gave him access to as much of it as he could ever want. He even played the English horn in the Parisian Club whenever he had a free Wednesday*. For those times when he was relaxing in his apartment, Illya had his ever growing record collection.

He and Napoleon and been returning from lunch when Illya had suddenly decided to park up.

“What’s up?” Solo asked, sounding slightly concerned.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Illya replied.

As the Russian got out, Napoleon saw the reason for the pause. Illya had stopped outside a record store.

A few minutes later, Solo watched in amusement as his partner exited the store. Dressed in his trademark black suit and turtleneck, he wasn’t hard to miss amongst the sea of colour passing by him by. To the casual observer, Illya looked like your average beatnik rushing home to enjoy his latest musical purchase. To Napoleon, thanks to the record Illya had attempted to hide in his jacket, he looked like the spy he was, who had just retrieved a dead drop. There was also an extremely subtle furtiveness about him that few would notice.

“Are you on an assignment that I don’t know about,” asked Napoleon, as his partner got into the vehicle.

“What are you talking about?” Illya asked, as he carefully placed the record on the back seat.

“You looked like you were trying to conceal a package when you came out of there.”

Illya gave him a puzzled glare before realizing what he had just done.

“Old habits die hard,” he mumbled.

“Oh?”

“Back home, if you were caught with something you shouldn’t have, it would be confiscated,” Illya explained. “That was the least that would happen, depending on what it was you had. Western jazz records were a big no-no. Because of this, you always had to conceal anything you should have on you. Even though I haven’t had to do that for a long time, my natural instincts seem to still be active.”

“I suppose that’s no bad thing for a spy,” Napoleon chuckled. “Come on, let’s get back. Mr Waverly is expecting us in half an hour.”



*Ice Does Melt

.

Date: 2016-10-10 07:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jkkitty.livejournal.com
Old habits, often very hard to change.

Date: 2016-10-10 07:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
A good idea, and a vivid scene. Thank you for sharing.

Date: 2016-10-10 07:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rose-of-pollux.livejournal.com
Aww, poor Illya. But indeed, his reaction is believable.

Date: 2016-10-10 07:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] otherhawk.livejournal.com
I really like this one. It's such a short scene but I can really picture it. And liking jazz is such a simple thing to be labelled subversive. Well done.

Date: 2016-10-10 08:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lindafishes8.livejournal.com
Illya wasn't even aware he was hiding the record. Sounds just like him. ;D Loved it!

Date: 2016-10-11 12:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] anamaryarmygram.livejournal.com
An interesting, believable little scene. I like Napoleon's perceptiveness here, too.

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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

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