glenmered: (Default)
[personal profile] glenmered posting in [community profile] section7mfu

prompts:  joint, black
Word count: 1119 (a little over!)

.............................................

 

Illya Kuryakin had lived in many places, been a spy among many different kinds of people.  He had raised more than a few glasses in the line of duty and otherwise, even sat with a beautiful girl on a silk cushion and smoked shisha from a hookah.

This was different.  Clad only in blue jeans and a black turtleneck, the blond agent from UNCLE was in a group of students who only vaguely suspected the Russian was older than they were, sprawled across a futon with a girl tucked neatly against his chest.

Everyone there was high, and two or three joints were being passed around continuously as deep inhalations and an increasing amount of giggling and guffaws began to permeate the room along with the sweet smelling smoke.

"Man, man… man."  A boy with red hair and a goofy grin seemed incapable of saying anything more revealing than the self-descriptive word that identified his gender.

"Yeah, like… wow. Man." Others had the same limited conversation going on.

The girl who had adopted Illya suddenly stood up, wavering slightly on the mattress.

"I am Starved! Anyone else hungry?  Okay, let's see…" She looked around the room and finally back down at the pretty blond who had struck her fancy early on.

"Say, why don't you go out and get us something to eat.  I want pizza.  Oh yeah, pizza… with lots of cheese and black olives.  Who else wants pizza?" She was taking names and trying to collect money.  If Illya didn't know any better he'd have thought she was also an UNCLE agent.

Why?  Why would he think that? He looked at his fingers and realized he was holding the joint, ready to take another drag.

"Here, you take this and I'll go for the food.' He paused and looked more closely at the girl.  "Do I know you?"

She laughed at the question and kissed him, quick and without emotion.

"I'm Cookie, you're supposed to be guarding me.  Remember?"

His mind ran back over the day, but he was stoned, truly and completely stoned.  If Mr. Waverly… an image of an older gentleman wafted before his eyes and Illya considered the very real possibility that he had finally done the unpardonable: He was on duty, with an innocent in his care and not even in  possession of his memory concerning he mission.  Bozhe moy.

"Um, Cookie?' The girl nodded and kissed him again.  She liked doing that, and something inside of Kuryakin liked it as well.  

Trouble, trouble, trouble…  He was in trouble for sure.  Who else was supposed to be here?  He thought of Napoleon, his partner… yes, partner.

"Cookie?' He started again, and again she kissed him.

" Please, stop doing that."  She pouted a little at the rebuff.

"Don't you like my kisses?" That confused Illya.  He shouldn't have to explain why she shouldn't kiss him.

"Cookie…' This time he put his finger to her mouth and stopped any attempt to kiss.

"I am here to keep you safe, and this scene isn't safe.  We need to go, right now."  His head was clearing a little, although he was hungry and had anyone told him a good Russian joke, he might have laughed until he cried.  If this mission failed it would be tears only, and no laughter.  At all.

"Just come with me now, and I promise I'll buy you a pizza.  We need to get out of here though."  Something niggling at the back of his neck was causing Illya a great deal of discomfort, as though a bad outcome was not far away.  Out of the corner of his eye he spotted someone he recognized.

"That's a THRUSH agent over there, we need to go." Suddenly Cookie wasn't quite as distracted, she knew what THRUSH was and that they were after her.  She shouldn't have accepted this invitation to party with her friends, not with a threat out there against her and her father.

"Okay Illya.  I'm sorry.  Gee, my head is clearing a little and I can see a way out… over here."  She took his hand and pulled on it, leading him towards a bedroom door that would lead out onto a patio.  She'd been here before, and she knew the layout of the house.  

Illya fell in behind her, his eyes alert for the location of the THRUSH.  So far they'd been out of his sight and seemed to be getting away clean.  Cookie led the way down a hallway towards a large double door.  She pushed it open and they entered into a room filled with potted plants and cushions strewn around, similar to the living room with its bean bag chairs and unstructured design.  Anti-design came to mind, but Illya pushed it aside as he made his way toward the patio and a night black in the absence of a moon or stars.  Clouds had come in and warned of a storm on the way, one more thing to make this night a little more miserable.

"Over here…" Cookie still had his hand, and Illya followed her to the patio doors and out onto the deck.  They were still alone, no one seemed to be following.

A loud clicking sound alerted the pair to someone else near them.  To Illya, it sounded like someone preparing to fire a gun.

"Hold it right there." Gruff and unyielding, the THRUSH would waste no time on this pair.  His orders were to take the girl at any cost.  Killing an UNCLE agent seemed like a cost worth his time.

"I suppose you are intent on this?"  Illya posed it as a question, but in truth he was trying to figure out how he might change the direction this was taking.  It was quick work, because no sooner had he decided to charge the fellow, he saw Napoleon's face from out of the darkness as their antagonist fell to the ground, a sleep dart in his neck.

"Good thing I showed up, don't you think?'' Illya shot his friend a smirky expression, but in truth he was glad to see him.  Cookie was a little confused but she soon figured out that Napoleon was a good guy and that she was rescued.  Hey, she liked the sound of that.

"Miss Watson, your father is waiting for you." Napoleon's voice was friendly but stern, a combination not easily achieved.

"Oh, yeah, well… yep.  Okay, take me then.  I won't resist."  She giggled at that, holding out her hands as though to be cuffed or … something.  The girl was still a little high.

As for Illya, he was glad and he was tired.  But, most of all, he was still hungry.

Date: 2017-04-11 05:35 am (UTC)
laurose8: (Illya)
From: [personal profile] laurose8
Thank you for a good action fic, with a very fine Illya pov. Nice solid setting, and even Cookie was a live character.

Excellent last paragraph, and I must quote Napoleon's voice was friendly but stern, a combination not easily achieved.

Date: 2017-04-11 08:11 am (UTC)
mlaw: The Man from UNCLE artwork- my user (Default)
From: [personal profile] mlaw
Illya high? Oh he gonna get in big trouble if Waverly finds out. If the girl is taken straight to her father, daddy's going to know she's high. Oh boy, Illya's gonna get in trouble, unless Napoleon does some fancy footwork.

Good one! Would like to be a fly on the wall when Illya has to explain this one...

Date: 2017-04-11 09:27 pm (UTC)
jkkitty: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jkkitty
Oh lets hope Illya's a little clearer before he meets Waverly

Date: 2017-04-12 06:54 pm (UTC)
pfrye: (Default)
From: [personal profile] pfrye
Fun....poor IK - in trouble and the munchies too!

Profile

section7mfu: (Default)
Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

April 2024

S M T W T F S
 123456
78910111213
141516171819 20
21222324252627
282930    

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 21st, 2025 03:57 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios