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section7mfuShort Affair 11/28
Prompt: Zest
Color: Pale yellow
Title: Preparations
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~600
Napoleon Solo never did anything without putting 100% of an effort into it; it was how he lived his life—whether he was tracking down THRUSH agents, or, in this case, contemplating the final touches on a cake.
Illya found it fascinating; he was sitting at the dining table, drinking a cup of tea as he watched Napoleon kneel in front of the table and visually framing the cake by holding his fingers up in a square.
“It’s missing something,” he declared.
Illya blinked.
“I am no expert, Napoleon, but it looks most inviting,” he said. “You baked a double-layer vanilla cake and frosted it. Or do you think it requires further decoration?”
“Maybe not decorations per se,” Napoleon mused, still framing the cake. “It’s not going to be a Christmas cake; it’s just something for me to give to Ma so she can place it on the counter for anyone passing by.”
“You are a dutiful son,” Illya commented. “Baking a cake for your mother?”
“Well, she’s baked me a lot of cakes over the years,” Napoleon mused. “I’m just giving back.”
“Still admirable.”
“Thanks. But it’s still missing something.”
Illya opted not to say that Mrs. Solo would be more than satisfied with the cake in its current state; he knew from experience that Napoleon, being a consummate perfectionist, wouldn’t be satisfied until it was just so. More than once, Napoleon had been a stickler over the simplest dishes that he had intended to serve Illya for just a casual dinner. And that wasn’t even getting into how he handled his work…
Illya bit his lip; suddenly, he was becoming much more self-conscious about meeting Napoleon’s parents. Here Napoleon was, making sure a simple, little cake was perfect, and here was Illya, quiet and awkward, feeling as though he was imposing upon the family before he’d even gotten there.
He gave a start as Napoleon suddenly clapped his hands together.
“Zest!” he exclaimed.
Illya continued to watch in amazement as Napoleon grabbed a lemon and a small grater and slowly began to let the pale yellow flakes of lemon zest snow onto the cake. As Napoleon had predicted, the zest made the cake look even more appetizing than it had been just a moment ago.
“Yes,” Napoleon declared, taking a step back after he had finished this endeavor. “Now it’s done!”
He covered the cake platter with a Plexiglas lid.
“Okay,” he declared. “Now we just have to keep it perfect on the seven-hour drive to Buffalo.”
“We are not flying?” Illya asked.
“This time of year, driving is far more reliable. Trust me on this.” Napoleon gave his partner a knowing look. “And I am entrusting you with this cake.”
“I will guard it with my life,” Illya declared.
His tone of voice was so unreadable that Napoleon looked over at him in concern.
“You alright?”
Illya went slightly red and looked away, and Napoleon understood.
“Hey,” he said, softly. “They’re going to love you. They’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time.”
“I only hope I can live up to the great image that you seem to have presented to them,” Illya said.
“I know you will,” Napoleon said. “When it comes to my parents, I bring home nothing but the best.”
Illya blinked and looked back at him for a moment in surprise, but then managed a small smile.
Napoleon grinned back and gently clapped him on the shoulder.
“Okay, I’ll grab the suitcases, you grab the cake, and we are out of here!”
And soon, the two vacationing agents were on their way.
Prompt: Zest
Color: Pale yellow
Title: Preparations
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~600
Napoleon Solo never did anything without putting 100% of an effort into it; it was how he lived his life—whether he was tracking down THRUSH agents, or, in this case, contemplating the final touches on a cake.
Illya found it fascinating; he was sitting at the dining table, drinking a cup of tea as he watched Napoleon kneel in front of the table and visually framing the cake by holding his fingers up in a square.
“It’s missing something,” he declared.
Illya blinked.
“I am no expert, Napoleon, but it looks most inviting,” he said. “You baked a double-layer vanilla cake and frosted it. Or do you think it requires further decoration?”
“Maybe not decorations per se,” Napoleon mused, still framing the cake. “It’s not going to be a Christmas cake; it’s just something for me to give to Ma so she can place it on the counter for anyone passing by.”
“You are a dutiful son,” Illya commented. “Baking a cake for your mother?”
“Well, she’s baked me a lot of cakes over the years,” Napoleon mused. “I’m just giving back.”
“Still admirable.”
“Thanks. But it’s still missing something.”
Illya opted not to say that Mrs. Solo would be more than satisfied with the cake in its current state; he knew from experience that Napoleon, being a consummate perfectionist, wouldn’t be satisfied until it was just so. More than once, Napoleon had been a stickler over the simplest dishes that he had intended to serve Illya for just a casual dinner. And that wasn’t even getting into how he handled his work…
Illya bit his lip; suddenly, he was becoming much more self-conscious about meeting Napoleon’s parents. Here Napoleon was, making sure a simple, little cake was perfect, and here was Illya, quiet and awkward, feeling as though he was imposing upon the family before he’d even gotten there.
He gave a start as Napoleon suddenly clapped his hands together.
“Zest!” he exclaimed.
Illya continued to watch in amazement as Napoleon grabbed a lemon and a small grater and slowly began to let the pale yellow flakes of lemon zest snow onto the cake. As Napoleon had predicted, the zest made the cake look even more appetizing than it had been just a moment ago.
“Yes,” Napoleon declared, taking a step back after he had finished this endeavor. “Now it’s done!”
He covered the cake platter with a Plexiglas lid.
“Okay,” he declared. “Now we just have to keep it perfect on the seven-hour drive to Buffalo.”
“We are not flying?” Illya asked.
“This time of year, driving is far more reliable. Trust me on this.” Napoleon gave his partner a knowing look. “And I am entrusting you with this cake.”
“I will guard it with my life,” Illya declared.
His tone of voice was so unreadable that Napoleon looked over at him in concern.
“You alright?”
Illya went slightly red and looked away, and Napoleon understood.
“Hey,” he said, softly. “They’re going to love you. They’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time.”
“I only hope I can live up to the great image that you seem to have presented to them,” Illya said.
“I know you will,” Napoleon said. “When it comes to my parents, I bring home nothing but the best.”
Illya blinked and looked back at him for a moment in surprise, but then managed a small smile.
Napoleon grinned back and gently clapped him on the shoulder.
“Okay, I’ll grab the suitcases, you grab the cake, and we are out of here!”
And soon, the two vacationing agents were on their way.
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Date: 2016-11-28 10:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-28 11:45 pm (UTC)(Strange run on vanilla cakes...)
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Date: 2016-11-29 01:42 am (UTC)I can see why Illya would be nervous about meeting the Solo family. Napoleon put him at ease, though. Well done.
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Date: 2016-11-29 04:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-29 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-11-29 09:21 pm (UTC)I had some vanilla cake a few days before I wrote this, so that probably influenced this a lot, heh.
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Date: 2016-11-29 09:22 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2016-11-29 09:22 pm (UTC)Thanks!