"The Light of a Star" Redux Part 1

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

It felt like snow. Illya Kuryakin was always good at predicting that; for a moment he shivered from the chill in the air as he hopped up the stairs to the door of the darkened brownstone. Identical to the other such buildings that lined this quiet city street, this one served a different purpose.

A paper sack was tucked under his arm as he inserted a key into the lock, and stepping inside; he cautiously drew his gun from its holster.

Minutes later he emerged, having ensured all was secure, and holding a small penlight, he flashed twice as a signal before returning it to his pocket.

Two figures emerged the black sedan parked across the street; a man and a woman, and quickly they crossed to the house and entered it.

The curtains drawn, Kuryakin turned on a lamp, finally shedding light on their surroundings.

"This is better than the last safe house we stayed in," he said, making a beeline for the kitchen.

"You can say that again, there's actually heat," his partner replied, guiding the woman beside him as he carried her small valise."

"There are two bedrooms upstairs, as is the bathroom,"Illya called. They could hear the sound of kitchen cabinets being opened and shut."Sadly the pantry is not well stocked, just cans of chicken soup, one can of tomato, some tea bags, crackers...the usual."

"Miss Kurasov," Napoleon said," If you'd care to freshen up?"

"Yes Mr. Solo, thank you," the petite brunette demurely said, taking her suitcase from him.

"Please, call me Napoleon," he smiled at her. "We're going to be here for a few days so we might as well keep it a little more friendly, given it's the holiday season and such."

"Sorry, I have not celebrated Christmas in a long time. I had to grow up quickly, so I did not have time for that bourgeois nonsense. We moved around alot, and by the way, you may call me Yelena, if that pleases you."

"Sorry to hear that,Yelena" he responded. "You and my Bolshevik partner are going to make peachy company for the holiday."

"You may recall Russian Christmas is not celebrated on December 25th, so even if I did partake in such festivities, it would not be Christmas for me and Mr. Kuryakin until January 7th."

"That is Communist, my friend." Illya corrected, walking out of the kitchen now carrying the paper sack in his hand. "Please get your terminology right."

"Illya didn't you bring a suitcase?"

"I did... this," he held up the bag.

"Really?"

"I do not need a valise to carry a bit of underthings, socks, sweatpants and my travel kit...oh, yes and two turtlenecks. You know I like to travel light, and since we will be here only a few days, why bother to lug a suitcase."

Solo shook his head not even having a snappy comeback to that one. Illya could just be a head-scratcher at times. Napoleon walked over to the thermostat, adjusting the heat to a more comfortable temperature, and looked to the small fireplace in the sitting room, noting there was plenty of firewood.

"At least we'll be cozy, and have a yule log for Christmas Eve…"

Illya shrugged, not giving a tinker's damn about that. "Shall I prepare our supper?"

"As much as I like chicken noodle soup tovarisch, I think I want something more akin to a holiday meal and I'm sure our charge would appreciate that as well, in spite of her not celebrating Christmas."

"Napoleon, have you forgotten...the cupboards are barely stocked?"

"And that's why I'm going to head out for supplies. If I have to spend Christmas here, then I damn well am going to eat a good meal or two...any problem with that plan?"

Illya flashed a toothy grin. "You have to ask such a question? Though as you pointed out, it is Christmas Eve, where exactly do you think you can find this feast?"

continue to part 2

Comments

[pfrye.livejournal.com]

Read this on FanFic - such a nice story. Thank you!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you!!!! Glad you enjoyed it. I think the pics here make a nice addition.