Old Things - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

( Old Things... )

Photo from Lisa's

Old Things - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

( Old Things... )

Photo from Lisa's

The Starting Gate Affair - part 2

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Part 1
~~~~~:

Illya had sat through the medical briefing with Napoleon at his side; like a good comrade, he thought.  What none of these people realized was that, until a few years ago he had weighed little more than what was being calculated for him now. 

Going without food was nothing new for Illya Kuryakin, and it was only during his years in Paris and England that he had transformed his physique beyond that of a starving student.  During his time in gymnastics he had weighed only one hundred and twenty pounds, and most of that had been muscle.  He could do it again, he must do it again.

( Read more... )

Illya and a donut... thanks to Lisa's framecap library.

The Starting Gate Affair - part 2

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Part 1
~~~~~:

Illya had sat through the medical briefing with Napoleon at his side; like a good comrade, he thought.  What none of these people realized was that, until a few years ago he had weighed little more than what was being calculated for him now. 

Going without food was nothing new for Illya Kuryakin, and it was only during his years in Paris and England that he had transformed his physique beyond that of a starving student.  During his time in gymnastics he had weighed only one hundred and twenty pounds, and most of that had been muscle.  He could do it again, he must do it again.

( Read more... )

Illya and a donut... thanks to Lisa's framecap library.

A little Drabble will do ya!-Water

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

Water, Water everywhere.  The two agents are always getting wet, but what do they feel about water and why do they do what makes them uncomfortable.

( Read more... )

A little Drabble will do ya!-Water

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

Water, Water everywhere.  The two agents are always getting wet, but what do they feel about water and why do they do what makes them uncomfortable.

( Read more... )

Lucky

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

“Miss Rogers, I’m expecting a delivery.”

“Here it is, Sir, Agent Del Floria scanned it and sent it up an hour ago.  I daresay the wrapping paper is lovely.”

“I’m glad you approve.  This is an anniversary gift for Mrs. Waverly; we’ve been married for forty years.  I’ll be leaving early; we have dinner reservations.”

“Congratulations, she is a lucky woman.  Have a wonderful evening,” she said as she exited his office. 

The Old Man harrumphed and stroked the gift box.  Miss Rogers, he thought, Thank Heaven I have enough sense to know I am a very lucky man indeed.

Lucky

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

“Miss Rogers, I’m expecting a delivery.”

“Here it is, Sir, Agent Del Floria scanned it and sent it up an hour ago.  I daresay the wrapping paper is lovely.”

“I’m glad you approve.  This is an anniversary gift for Mrs. Waverly; we’ve been married for forty years.  I’ll be leaving early; we have dinner reservations.”

“Congratulations, she is a lucky woman.  Have a wonderful evening,” she said as she exited his office. 

The Old Man harrumphed and stroked the gift box.  Miss Rogers, he thought, Thank Heaven I have enough sense to know I am a very lucky man indeed.

The Randomness of Life~Chapter Three, for a Little Drabble Do Ya

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Link to chapter two:  http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/86748.html

reminder: these are half drabbles prompted from lines from a single poem.
_________________________________________________________





Prompted by: A Valediction Forbidding Mourning~Adrienne Rich

They gave me a drug that slowed the healing of wounds.

He lay in medical with eyes glazed over and unresponsive. Illya had never seen Napoleon like this before.  Wounded, unconscious yes, but never zombie-like.

The nurse came in to change his dressings. “They’re not healing,” she said.

“Napoleon, come back to us, you need to get well.” Illya entreated.
.


A red plant in a cemetery of plastic wreaths.

When U.N.C.L.E. lost one of their own, the memorial was always brief and few attended the burial. It was too close a reminder of their mortality.

Napoleon paused as the last of the dirt covered the sealed vault, sadly tossing a red rose on top of it, lowering his head.
.

To do something very common, in my own way.

He heard a tiny squeak coming from the bushes; upon investigation Illya discovered it was a grey kitten; it’s eyes still closed.

With no sign of the mama, he tucked it under his sweatshirt for warmth; bringing it home. An eye dropper would do to feed it.

“Live,” he whispered.

The Randomness of Life~Chapter Three, for a Little Drabble Do Ya

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Link to chapter two:  http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/86748.html

reminder: these are half drabbles prompted from lines from a single poem.
_________________________________________________________





Prompted by: A Valediction Forbidding Mourning~Adrienne Rich

They gave me a drug that slowed the healing of wounds.

He lay in medical with eyes glazed over and unresponsive. Illya had never seen Napoleon like this before.  Wounded, unconscious yes, but never zombie-like.

The nurse came in to change his dressings. “They’re not healing,” she said.

“Napoleon, come back to us, you need to get well.” Illya entreated.
.


A red plant in a cemetery of plastic wreaths.

When U.N.C.L.E. lost one of their own, the memorial was always brief and few attended the burial. It was too close a reminder of their mortality.

Napoleon paused as the last of the dirt covered the sealed vault, sadly tossing a red rose on top of it, lowering his head.
.

To do something very common, in my own way.

He heard a tiny squeak coming from the bushes; upon investigation Illya discovered it was a grey kitten; it’s eyes still closed.

With no sign of the mama, he tucked it under his sweatshirt for warmth; bringing it home. An eye dropper would do to feed it.

“Live,” he whispered.