A Little Drabble Do Ya: First Day, A Sugar & Spies Drabble

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

Napoleon checked the bag carefully.  “Everything is in there,” he said solemnly.

“Good,” Illya replied.  “I have found suitable clothing.  Mr. Waverly expects us to handle this within the allotted timeframe.  We must stick to the schedule.”

“I know, Tovarisch.  It’s going to be a little stressful, though.”

The Russian gave a sad grin.  “Yes, but nothing we cannot handle.  We both knew this day was coming.”

Napoleon sat on his bed.  “Who knew Leona’s first day of pre – school would be so traumatic?”

“Napoleon, I will laugh at you if you cry.”

“We’ll see who’s crying tomorrow, my friend.”

A Little Drabble Do Ya: First Day, A Sugar & Spies Drabble

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

Napoleon checked the bag carefully.  “Everything is in there,” he said solemnly.

“Good,” Illya replied.  “I have found suitable clothing.  Mr. Waverly expects us to handle this within the allotted timeframe.  We must stick to the schedule.”

“I know, Tovarisch.  It’s going to be a little stressful, though.”

The Russian gave a sad grin.  “Yes, but nothing we cannot handle.  We both knew this day was coming.”

Napoleon sat on his bed.  “Who knew Leona’s first day of pre – school would be so traumatic?”

“Napoleon, I will laugh at you if you cry.”

“We’ll see who’s crying tomorrow, my friend.”

A lttle drabble will do ya--Relaxing.

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

The partners entered Illya’s apartment after a difficult assignment.

“I cannot wait to relax,” he said as he handed his partner a drink.

“Me either, thanks.”

“Sleeping, music and reading.”

“You call that relaxing.”

“Music helps me wind down, reading allows me to escape reality, and sleeping lets my body rest.  What is your idea of relaxing as if I need to ask?”

“Women, wine and dancing.”

“How do you justify that as relaxing?”

“Wine makes me forget my trouble, dancing sets the mood, and women-well I think you can guess what that does.”

“To relaxation,” they said clinking their glasses.

A lttle drabble will do ya--Relaxing.

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

The partners entered Illya’s apartment after a difficult assignment.

“I cannot wait to relax,” he said as he handed his partner a drink.

“Me either, thanks.”

“Sleeping, music and reading.”

“You call that relaxing.”

“Music helps me wind down, reading allows me to escape reality, and sleeping lets my body rest.  What is your idea of relaxing as if I need to ask?”

“Women, wine and dancing.”

“How do you justify that as relaxing?”

“Wine makes me forget my trouble, dancing sets the mood, and women-well I think you can guess what that does.”

“To relaxation,” they said clinking their glasses.

The Randomness of Life~ for A Little Drabble Do Ya

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Half-drabbles inspired by ones from a single poem"

Prompted by : The Fly ~ William Blake

.

Am not I

The boy Kuryakin lay in his bunk in the orphanage, feeling very much alone.
Why did his family have to die and not he? At first he felt unrelenting guilt.

“Why?” He’d ask.  A day came when he said, “Am I not worth it?.”

Then he began to live.


And drink & sing;

“Come Illya give us a song,” his mates called. The voyage beneath the waves has been dull.

“Nyet, you sing Vasha, you have the good voice, not me.  I prefer to stay in the shadows.  

“A toast then, “ Vasha held up his vodka. “To shadows, may they long protect you.”


And the want

It was a meager existence, day in and day out, with barely enough food.

Illya trudged on to his assignment, listening in on the idle chatter of women, who
shared recipes but had not the ingredients to make them.  

It made him hungrier, just imagining a hot platter of pirogi.


Or if I die.

Illya pulled his wool coat tighter, as well as the ear flaps of his ushanka against the bitter wind. Snow swirled through the  cobblestone streets; soon they would be covered.

He could freeze on this stakeout, no one cared. He was replaceable, everyone was.

Yet, he would live to spite them.

The Randomness of Life~ for A Little Drabble Do Ya

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Half-drabbles inspired by ones from a single poem"

Prompted by : The Fly ~ William Blake

.

Am not I

The boy Kuryakin lay in his bunk in the orphanage, feeling very much alone.
Why did his family have to die and not he? At first he felt unrelenting guilt.

“Why?” He’d ask.  A day came when he said, “Am I not worth it?.”

Then he began to live.


And drink & sing;

“Come Illya give us a song,” his mates called. The voyage beneath the waves has been dull.

“Nyet, you sing Vasha, you have the good voice, not me.  I prefer to stay in the shadows.  

“A toast then, “ Vasha held up his vodka. “To shadows, may they long protect you.”


And the want

It was a meager existence, day in and day out, with barely enough food.

Illya trudged on to his assignment, listening in on the idle chatter of women, who
shared recipes but had not the ingredients to make them.  

It made him hungrier, just imagining a hot platter of pirogi.


Or if I die.

Illya pulled his wool coat tighter, as well as the ear flaps of his ushanka against the bitter wind. Snow swirled through the  cobblestone streets; soon they would be covered.

He could freeze on this stakeout, no one cared. He was replaceable, everyone was.

Yet, he would live to spite them.

Uniformity - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

“I don’t like the way the fabric bunches up here…’

Illya Kuryakin tugged on the disagreeable garment…

“… and here.”

His model stood as still as possible, still not comfortable with this idea.  What if it didn’t work, what if this didn’t work?

The Russian folded the errant textile into its proper place, stood back to admire his work and accept the congratulations that would follow.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“I did it.  Now you can take that walk.”

Napoleon hung his head as he headed out the door in his Boy Scout leader uniform.

“What I don’t do for peace.”

Uniformity - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

“I don’t like the way the fabric bunches up here…’

Illya Kuryakin tugged on the disagreeable garment…

“… and here.”

His model stood as still as possible, still not comfortable with this idea.  What if it didn’t work, what if this didn’t work?

The Russian folded the errant textile into its proper place, stood back to admire his work and accept the congratulations that would follow.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“I did it.  Now you can take that walk.”

Napoleon hung his head as he headed out the door in his Boy Scout leader uniform.

“What I don’t do for peace.”

May the Force be with you... A little drable do ya...

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

This takes place in 1980...

A broad smile split Napoleon's face, turning into a devilish grin. Illya would so appreciate that.

( Read more... )

May the Force be with you... A little drable do ya...

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

This takes place in 1980...

A broad smile split Napoleon's face, turning into a devilish grin. Illya would so appreciate that.

( Read more... )