[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] section7mfu

THE Prompt: THANKS to Jantojones whose comment on my Short Affair yesterday helped to inspire this story!


He supposed it would be a welcome respite from his life with UNCLE; Illya Kuryakin had been given a few days off to recuperate from an injury to his hand and wrist sustained in his last mission with his partner, though he really didn’t want to take the time off.


His right hand was no good at the moment as the ligaments and tendons were quite swollen and tender. He’d insisted he could still work as he was ambidextrous, and could shoot with either hand, but Doctor Greene in Medical would hear nothing of it.


A brace was put in place, though Illya protested against that as well.


After leaving the Medical suite Kuryakin went to the Commissary to eat. He tried eating a hearty meal of steak au poivre with a cream sauce and asparagus. It wasn’t made with filet mignon, but it was  nicely done and not overcooked, which Cookie had a tendency to do.


The Russian found he couldn’t really enjoy his meal as every woman who entered the cafeteria took turns fawning over him, wanting to cut up his food for him, or feed him. like he was a child.


“Happy Valentine’s Day Illya, want to be my Valentine? I’ll take good care of you?” They cooed and crooned.


He’d forgotten that it was February 14th and the flattery and flirting just got to be too much. Illya decided make a hasty retreat and head  home. The good doctor had ordered him out of headquarters anyway so he might as well have some peace and quiet away from the amorous but well intentioned ladies.


As soon as Kuryakin arrived at his apartment, he removed the brace as he wasn’t about to put up with that either.


Soaking his hand in warm epsom salts helped somewhat, but he willingly popped a few aspirins for the pain. That was unlike him, but he just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it, nor was he in the mood to sit home once he gotten there.


It was a beautiful evening and he decided to get away from the din of the city, within reason. That meant Central Park.


Illya gathered up a small telescope he kept in his closet, often used in surveillance work, and tucked it into a canvas duffle bag, making it easier to carry as well as keeping it unobtrusive. He shoved his flask in there as well; filled with vodka of course,  it had been a birthday gift from Napoleon. Throwing in a small transistor radio for good measure and a blanket to sit on,  Illya grabbed his Australian style bushman’s hat and a jacket as he knew it might get a little chilly later on.


Once in the park he found himself a comfortable spot and set up the telescope in the dark with a practiced hand.  The sky was crystal clear, filled with endless stars. It was so clear that they looked like he could just reach up and touch them. He stared out at them, trying to identify the constellations. Illya had a fond childhood  memory of looking up at the stars with his older brother Dimitry who taught him their names as well as how to navigate by them.


He sighed; it was moments like this that he sorely missed his brother, along with the rest of his family.


Pulling out his flask, he took a small sip and tucked it back into the bag. Listening to the sounds of the city off in the distance, and  muffled; Illya took out his radio and switched it on, playing with the tuner until he got a station.


It was a song he recognized, and though sentimental, he found it soothing and oddly appropriate to what he was doing.


“When you wish upon a star, Makes no difference who you are. Anything your heart desires will come to you, If your heart is in your dream. No request is too extreme, When you wish upon a star as dreamers do…When a star is born, they possess a gift or two. One of them is this, they have the power to make a wish come true, Fate is kind, She brings to those who love, the sweet fulfillment of their secret longing. Like a bolt out of the blue Fate steps in and sees you through, When you wish upon a star Your dreams come true….”

Illya knew it was silly, but looking at the brightest star, he made a wish to see his brother. At that moment his stomach rumbled; he'd forgotten to pack sandwiches, and wondered if he could add some to his celestial invocation. It was just silly and he dismissed the idea of wishing upon a star.

There was a sudden rustle in the bushes behind him and Illya drew his gun from his holster, thinking someone might try to mug him.

To his complete surprise, out stepped Napoleon. “Hi there. Having fun gazing at the stars?”
“How did you find me?”
Napoleon held up his communicator. “Homing signal, remember?”
Illya pulled his pen from his pocket, ready to insist it wasn’t open, when in fact it was. He didn’t remember doing that at all, but no matter. He closed it and returned it to his jacket.
“I would have thought you were busy romancing your lady friends tonight since it is Valentine’s Day.”


“You know, sometimes it gets to be too much. I can’t afford to buy dinner, flowers or candy for all the ladies I’ve dated and singling out a few for gifts would definitely create more trouble than it’s worth. So instead I decided to come spend the evening with my brother in arms. Valentine’s Day should definitely be a celebration of every type of love as well as friendship, and not be just the romantic kind of love. So I’m here to hang out with my best friend, AND I brought food.”


Napoleon set  a picnic basket on the ground, and sitting down beside it, he took out containers of hot Chinese take away.


“Let’s see….we have roast pork lo mein, pork egg foo young, sliced Peking duck with chinese vegetables, and of course fried dumplings, as well as egg rolls. To wash it all down, there’s a large thermos of hot Chinese tea.”


Illya couldn’t help but smile. He suddenly realized his wish might have actually come true, though it wasn’t his brother Dimitry who appeared but his new brother. As Napoleon had said ‘his brother in arms;’ but he was more than that. Napoleon was family in the truest sense. On top of that, the food he wished for was here as well. He glanced up at the star, the bright one he'd wished on and wondered just for a brief second...it was a nice thought but yes, silly.


“Thank you moy brat,” Illya grabbed a pair of chopsticks with his left hand and dug into the Lo Mein. “Just do not call me your Valentine, please.”


“The thought never crossed my mind, tovarisch,” Napoleon rolled his eyes as he chuckled and bit into an egg roll.


Date: 2017-02-14 06:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
A good and original way for them to spend Valentine's; and very believable. I do like that bit about wishng for his brother, too - including the sandwiches ps. Good work throughout on the Illya pov.

Date: 2017-02-14 07:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] pfrye.livejournal.com
Very nice - I imagine Valentines Day would be a bit of a bother for NS if you think about it.

Date: 2017-02-14 09:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
Happy Valentine's Day to you! And Purry Valentine's Day to the Three Who Must Be Obeyed.

Date: 2017-02-14 09:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Wonderful! This is a perfect Valentine's story showing a different kind of love. I'm glad I could inspire you :-)

Date: 2017-02-15 03:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lindafishes8.livejournal.com
Your story gave me chills. First there were the similarities between Demetri and Napoleon and then you brought the song into the mix. Well done.

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