Russian Falls

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

“Illya, that’s a black cat!”

The Russian looked up from stroking the friendly stray and exclaimed, “Very good, Napoleon! Next, I want you to identify a brown dog.”

Blowing his forelock out of his face, Napoleon huffed, “I was only trying to warn you that crossing paths with a black cat on Friday the Thirteenth is bad luck but, you do what you want. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.”

Illya picked up the purring kitty and began walking alongside his partner. “I am well aware of the alleged ramifications of interacting with a black cat. You Americans and your superstitions! Groundhogs and their shadows, black cats and bad luck…Oh, look! A ladder leaning against a wall!” Illya put the cat down, pat its head goodbye and then, walked back and forth underneath it several times even as Napoleon gave it a wide berth.

Catching up with his partner, Illya began to chastise the brunet. “Honestly, Napoleon, you are much too worldly to believe any of this oh!” Illya was pitched forward and down when his toe stubbed against a large crack in the sidewalk. He sprawled face first on the cement and then, jumped up quickly and glanced around with a “Who saw that?” look on his face. His eyes lighted on Napoleon and narrowed in challenge.

The American had watched what had transpired with an amusement he was trying very hard to keep off his face. “Ah, are you alright, Tovarisch?” He shoved his hands into his pockets while Illya brushed himself off and tried to tame his rebellious lips that kept threatening to break into an “I told you so” smirk.

Face turning a lovely shade of red, Illya spat out, “I am fine! And I suppose now you are going to tie the fact that I tripped to the fact that I held a black cat on this particular day together into a pretty bow of superstition?”

“Yes, and you may use it to hold together your dignity!” Napoleon could no longer contain himself and began to laugh so hard he had to stop and hold his sides.

As the Russian kept walking, he said over his shoulder, “I owe you one, Napoleon, and I will make sure I pay you back!”

Napoleon strode quickly to come alongside Illya and throwing his arm over the smaller man’s shoulders replied, “Of that I have no doubt, Partner Mine, of that I have noooo doubt.”

Russian Falls

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

“Illya, that’s a black cat!”

The Russian looked up from stroking the friendly stray and exclaimed, “Very good, Napoleon! Next, I want you to identify a brown dog.”

Blowing his forelock out of his face, Napoleon huffed, “I was only trying to warn you that crossing paths with a black cat on Friday the Thirteenth is bad luck but, you do what you want. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.”

Illya picked up the purring kitty and began walking alongside his partner. “I am well aware of the alleged ramifications of interacting with a black cat. You Americans and your superstitions! Groundhogs and their shadows, black cats and bad luck…Oh, look! A ladder leaning against a wall!” Illya put the cat down, pat its head goodbye and then, walked back and forth underneath it several times even as Napoleon gave it a wide berth.

Catching up with his partner, Illya began to chastise the brunet. “Honestly, Napoleon, you are much too worldly to believe any of this oh!” Illya was pitched forward and down when his toe stubbed against a large crack in the sidewalk. He sprawled face first on the cement and then, jumped up quickly and glanced around with a “Who saw that?” look on his face. His eyes lighted on Napoleon and narrowed in challenge.

The American had watched what had transpired with an amusement he was trying very hard to keep off his face. “Ah, are you alright, Tovarisch?” He shoved his hands into his pockets while Illya brushed himself off and tried to tame his rebellious lips that kept threatening to break into an “I told you so” smirk.

Face turning a lovely shade of red, Illya spat out, “I am fine! And I suppose now you are going to tie the fact that I tripped to the fact that I held a black cat on this particular day together into a pretty bow of superstition?”

“Yes, and you may use it to hold together your dignity!” Napoleon could no longer contain himself and began to laugh so hard he had to stop and hold his sides.

As the Russian kept walking, he said over his shoulder, “I owe you one, Napoleon, and I will make sure I pay you back!”

Napoleon strode quickly to come alongside Illya and throwing his arm over the smaller man’s shoulders replied, “Of that I have no doubt, Partner Mine, of that I have noooo doubt.”

The Orphanage Chapter12- a story told in drabbles

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

link to chapter 11: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/41422.html
_____________________________________________________

Illya managed keeping the bullies at bay, when finally they realized his intelligence could be a boon to them.

He always won at cards, telling them the secret of counting, helping work out the odds in Svoi Kozyri,  a game of foresight and imagination in which luck had no place.

Once chased, now he was cherished.

Lyov Prokourorov, seventeen and soon to be pressed into military service, if he did not disappear as a thug onto the streets, ruled over the children and members of the staff. He took a liking to the little blond.

Illya became his lucky charm.

The Orphanage Chapter12- a story told in drabbles

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

link to chapter 11: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/41422.html
_____________________________________________________

Illya managed keeping the bullies at bay, when finally they realized his intelligence could be a boon to them.

He always won at cards, telling them the secret of counting, helping work out the odds in Svoi Kozyri,  a game of foresight and imagination in which luck had no place.

Once chased, now he was cherished.

Lyov Prokourorov, seventeen and soon to be pressed into military service, if he did not disappear as a thug onto the streets, ruled over the children and members of the staff. He took a liking to the little blond.

Illya became his lucky charm.