The Un-Birthday for PicFic Tuesday

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Well buddy boy it’s that time of year again isn’t it? It’s the second birthday you’re commemorating since you’ve been here in New York.”

“Napoleon, I wish you would stop insisting I celebrate my birthday...it is just not a good thing for me.” The Russian stared at his partner with a serious,but bemused expression.

“You won’t tell me why you’re against celebrating your birthday. If you’d explain that to me, then I might just accept your reasoning and cease the celebrations as per your request, but since you won’t  say what it is, then the festivities will continue.”

Illya huffed his exasperation, finally deciding to end this once and for all.

“Napoleon, the last time my birthday was to be celebrated, I was turning eight years of age. My father and brother were in the darkest part of the forest fighting Nazis with the partisans and...well, that is enough information on that topic.”

“On my birthday, we received word that Kyiv had fallen to the Germans, and for that reason we chose not to celebrate.  A week later over 33,000 people, mostly Jews, were executed on the  a ravine outside of Kyiv and  not long after my birthday I witnessed members of my family being murdered by the Germans”.  

“I was orphaned by the war, and  there were no celebrations for the bespriorzi_street orphans.   I learned to forget my birthday, as it brought back too many tragic memories.  So please do not try to make me celebrate it?”

“Wow, I’m sorry, I had no idea. It must have been awful for you.” Napoleon reached out, putting his hand on Illya’s shoulder, squeezing it in support.

“Nyet,” Illya gestured sharply with his hand, “I want no pity. This is why I do not share my past, I do not want to be pitied.”

“Trust me tovarisch, it’s not pity. It’s a show of support and respect for your courage.  I did sort of buy you a birthday present...do you want me to take it back?”

“A present, for me?”

Napoleon saw Illya’s eyes light up. “When was the last time someone gave you a gift?”

Illya pulled out his pearl-handled switchblade.“This was given to me by a friend when she was being sent from the orphanage in Moskva. I was sixteen when she gave it to me to protect myself from the bullies....it has saved my life many a time.”

“Hmm, a very practical gift, so I think you’ll like what I have for you...let’s not call it a birthday present, we’ll call it an un-birthday gift. Like your knife, it’s something to protect you from the new bullies in your life..”  He handed the Russian a small, simple wooden case.

Illya carefully lifted the lid to find an ornately engraved pistol with a mother of pearl handle laying inside it.

“I know you like to go jogging in the early morning hours, and our Specials are a bit awkward to carry....so I thought this would suit you. Good weapon, Smith and Wesson.”




The Russian handled the weapon, getting the feel of it, the balance. He moved his fingers over the handle, almost  caressing the mother of pearl.

“It is beautiful. Thank you my friend, this I will accept as a treasured gift from one friend to another, as you said, for protection.” Illya reached out offering his hand and shaking Napoleon’s.

“Tell you what tovarisch, let’s create some happy memories for you for this day. Dinner on me at the 21 Club.”

“Not for birthday, it is for un-birthday as you said... this term I like.” Illya leaned his head in his hand, looking up whimsically at his partner.

“It’s from a book called 'Alice In Wonderland' and  no, 'not for birthday, ” Napoleon imitated Illya’s accent.
“How about, a ‘ just because you’re my friend’ dinner.”

“Spacibo, this I will accept.” Illya finally let loose his crooked smile. 'This book I will have to investigate."

“I thought you might, and the author is Lewis Carroll." He smiled, knowing how much the Russian liked his food, especially free food. “Happy Birthday chum,” Napoleon thought to himself. At least the smile from his partner was a small victory, not always easy to achieve with such a stubborn man.

Napoleon would continue his efforts on behalf of his partner and go right on creating new, happy memories for Illya and maybe someday, the Russian might just start acknowledging his birthday  again. If anything it was just an excuse just to celebrate life... that Illya had lived to see another birthday. That would do for now.

The Un-Birthday for PicFic Tuesday

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Well buddy boy it’s that time of year again isn’t it? It’s the second birthday you’re commemorating since you’ve been here in New York.”

“Napoleon, I wish you would stop insisting I celebrate my birthday...it is just not a good thing for me.” The Russian stared at his partner with a serious,but bemused expression.

“You won’t tell me why you’re against celebrating your birthday. If you’d explain that to me, then I might just accept your reasoning and cease the celebrations as per your request, but since you won’t  say what it is, then the festivities will continue.”

Illya huffed his exasperation, finally deciding to end this once and for all.

“Napoleon, the last time my birthday was to be celebrated, I was turning eight years of age. My father and brother were in the darkest part of the forest fighting Nazis with the partisans and...well, that is enough information on that topic.”

“On my birthday, we received word that Kyiv had fallen to the Germans, and for that reason we chose not to celebrate.  A week later over 33,000 people, mostly Jews, were executed on the  a ravine outside of Kyiv and  not long after my birthday I witnessed members of my family being murdered by the Germans”.  

“I was orphaned by the war, and  there were no celebrations for the bespriorzi_street orphans.   I learned to forget my birthday, as it brought back too many tragic memories.  So please do not try to make me celebrate it?”

“Wow, I’m sorry, I had no idea. It must have been awful for you.” Napoleon reached out, putting his hand on Illya’s shoulder, squeezing it in support.

“Nyet,” Illya gestured sharply with his hand, “I want no pity. This is why I do not share my past, I do not want to be pitied.”

“Trust me tovarisch, it’s not pity. It’s a show of support and respect for your courage.  I did sort of buy you a birthday present...do you want me to take it back?”

“A present, for me?”

Napoleon saw Illya’s eyes light up. “When was the last time someone gave you a gift?”

Illya pulled out his pearl-handled switchblade.“This was given to me by a friend when she was being sent from the orphanage in Moskva. I was sixteen when she gave it to me to protect myself from the bullies....it has saved my life many a time.”

“Hmm, a very practical gift, so I think you’ll like what I have for you...let’s not call it a birthday present, we’ll call it an un-birthday gift. Like your knife, it’s something to protect you from the new bullies in your life..”  He handed the Russian a small, simple wooden case.

Illya carefully lifted the lid to find an ornately engraved pistol with a mother of pearl handle laying inside it.

“I know you like to go jogging in the early morning hours, and our Specials are a bit awkward to carry....so I thought this would suit you. Good weapon, Smith and Wesson.”




The Russian handled the weapon, getting the feel of it, the balance. He moved his fingers over the handle, almost  caressing the mother of pearl.

“It is beautiful. Thank you my friend, this I will accept as a treasured gift from one friend to another, as you said, for protection.” Illya reached out offering his hand and shaking Napoleon’s.

“Tell you what tovarisch, let’s create some happy memories for you for this day. Dinner on me at the 21 Club.”

“Not for birthday, it is for un-birthday as you said... this term I like.” Illya leaned his head in his hand, looking up whimsically at his partner.

“It’s from a book called 'Alice In Wonderland' and  no, 'not for birthday, ” Napoleon imitated Illya’s accent.
“How about, a ‘ just because you’re my friend’ dinner.”

“Spacibo, this I will accept.” Illya finally let loose his crooked smile. 'This book I will have to investigate."

“I thought you might, and the author is Lewis Carroll." He smiled, knowing how much the Russian liked his food, especially free food. “Happy Birthday chum,” Napoleon thought to himself. At least the smile from his partner was a small victory, not always easy to achieve with such a stubborn man.

Napoleon would continue his efforts on behalf of his partner and go right on creating new, happy memories for Illya and maybe someday, the Russian might just start acknowledging his birthday  again. If anything it was just an excuse just to celebrate life... that Illya had lived to see another birthday. That would do for now.

PicFic 9:18

[avirra.livejournal.com]

The Blind Date

Napoleon really wasn't sure if he should be mortified or amused, but he knew it was in his best interests to look mortified. He strove to hide any expression that might display even the slightest hint of amusement as the lady across from Illya at the table droned on. And on and on. 

Actually, after a little thought on the matter, it wasn't hard to feel mortified.  The young lady had started rambling the second that the introductions had been made and hadn’t slowed once during the drive to the restaurant.  Napoleon thought was that with her breath control, she might make a good sponge diver.

He had to face it - Illya was never going to forgive him and he really couldn’t blame him. As it was, Napoleon was already going to be in deep debt to his friend for pressing him into agreeing to be the blind date for Samantha, the friend of Alyson, the lady he himself was across from. 

To her credit, Alyson was becoming more embarrassed by the second as her friend Samantha continued to talk on everything from the tablecloth to her nail polish.  Samantha barely even paused long enough for them to give the waiter their orders and even then, she commented on everything ordered. Worse in his opinion, they were missing out on what Napoleon considered to be one of the best things about dinner – real conversation.  There was no chance for casual, let alone intelligent, conversation with Samantha's chatter. Even if he had been willing to try to talk around her, there was no way to do it without shouting and Napoleon refused to stoop to that.

Finally, Illya propped an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand as an expression that seemed to be one mixing slight amusement with exasperation. Food arrived and at least gave the rest of them small moments of quiet, but not long enough pauses for them to speak more than a word or two to one another before Samantha would start up once again and monopolize the attempts at talking.

By the time they reached the main course, Napoleon was ready to fall down on his knees to apologize to Illya and promise to never again ask him to accept another blind date. For his part, Illya had remained quiet. Quiet even by his standards. That was generally never a good sign.  But, it became apparent that he had only been waiting for the right opportunity as Illya spoke up the second Samantha took too large of a bite for her to swallow quickly.

"You certainly have a wide range of interests, Miss Samantha. Did you know that when you use words containing the 'k' sound, your eyes cross ever so slightly? I do not believe I have ever observed that before. It is quite fascinating to watch."

Samantha almost choked on her food as she gasped at that comment. It was obvious that she wanted to take insult, but Illya had phrased his comment as if he had been remarking on what a lovely shade of green her eyes were.

Napoleon hid his mouth behind his napkin to give himself a moment to compose his expression again. He was just grateful that he hadn't laughed out loud. Alyson, thank heavens, also seemed bemused, though in her case, she covered it by choosing to take a sip of her wine.

The comment had the intended outcome. Samantha stopped talking non-stop as she began policing her own thoughts to remove or substitute any word that had that dreaded 'k' sound in it. Napoleon pretended not to notice her preoccupied expression and blithely began a conversation to include them all.

Illya didn't even bother to hide the small smile that formed when his partner began to talk about the wonderful crab cakes he'd gotten while vacationing in Key Largo. Maybe he'd let Napoleon off the hook for this disastrous evening after all.

PicFic 9:18

[avirra.livejournal.com]

The Blind Date

Napoleon really wasn't sure if he should be mortified or amused, but he knew it was in his best interests to look mortified. He strove to hide any expression that might display even the slightest hint of amusement as the lady across from Illya at the table droned on. And on and on. 

Actually, after a little thought on the matter, it wasn't hard to feel mortified.  The young lady had started rambling the second that the introductions had been made and hadn’t slowed once during the drive to the restaurant.  Napoleon thought was that with her breath control, she might make a good sponge diver.

He had to face it - Illya was never going to forgive him and he really couldn’t blame him. As it was, Napoleon was already going to be in deep debt to his friend for pressing him into agreeing to be the blind date for Samantha, the friend of Alyson, the lady he himself was across from. 

To her credit, Alyson was becoming more embarrassed by the second as her friend Samantha continued to talk on everything from the tablecloth to her nail polish.  Samantha barely even paused long enough for them to give the waiter their orders and even then, she commented on everything ordered. Worse in his opinion, they were missing out on what Napoleon considered to be one of the best things about dinner – real conversation.  There was no chance for casual, let alone intelligent, conversation with Samantha's chatter. Even if he had been willing to try to talk around her, there was no way to do it without shouting and Napoleon refused to stoop to that.

Finally, Illya propped an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand as an expression that seemed to be one mixing slight amusement with exasperation. Food arrived and at least gave the rest of them small moments of quiet, but not long enough pauses for them to speak more than a word or two to one another before Samantha would start up once again and monopolize the attempts at talking.

By the time they reached the main course, Napoleon was ready to fall down on his knees to apologize to Illya and promise to never again ask him to accept another blind date. For his part, Illya had remained quiet. Quiet even by his standards. That was generally never a good sign.  But, it became apparent that he had only been waiting for the right opportunity as Illya spoke up the second Samantha took too large of a bite for her to swallow quickly.

"You certainly have a wide range of interests, Miss Samantha. Did you know that when you use words containing the 'k' sound, your eyes cross ever so slightly? I do not believe I have ever observed that before. It is quite fascinating to watch."

Samantha almost choked on her food as she gasped at that comment. It was obvious that she wanted to take insult, but Illya had phrased his comment as if he had been remarking on what a lovely shade of green her eyes were.

Napoleon hid his mouth behind his napkin to give himself a moment to compose his expression again. He was just grateful that he hadn't laughed out loud. Alyson, thank heavens, also seemed bemused, though in her case, she covered it by choosing to take a sip of her wine.

The comment had the intended outcome. Samantha stopped talking non-stop as she began policing her own thoughts to remove or substitute any word that had that dreaded 'k' sound in it. Napoleon pretended not to notice her preoccupied expression and blithely began a conversation to include them all.

Illya didn't even bother to hide the small smile that formed when his partner began to talk about the wonderful crab cakes he'd gotten while vacationing in Key Largo. Maybe he'd let Napoleon off the hook for this disastrous evening after all.

What?--PicFic Tuesday.

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

“What’s a matter partner?”

“Just thinking about life, and how some days are better forgotten.”

“Any specific day?”

Suddenly Illya realized that Napoleon was getting closer to what he was trying to forget, “No, just thinking about different days and how things change over the years.”

“Seems if you are sitting there thinking about it, it must be important to you.”

“Nothing to worry about.”

Napoleon crossed the room and set a brightly wrapped gift on his desk, “Happy Birthday partner, dinner’s on me.”

A smile slowly spread across Illya's face, maybe new memories of this day could be made.

What?--PicFic Tuesday.

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

“What’s a matter partner?”

“Just thinking about life, and how some days are better forgotten.”

“Any specific day?”

Suddenly Illya realized that Napoleon was getting closer to what he was trying to forget, “No, just thinking about different days and how things change over the years.”

“Seems if you are sitting there thinking about it, it must be important to you.”

“Nothing to worry about.”

Napoleon crossed the room and set a brightly wrapped gift on his desk, “Happy Birthday partner, dinner’s on me.”

A smile slowly spread across Illya's face, maybe new memories of this day could be made.

After the Boom - PicFic Tuesday

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Last week I wrote Fall Down Go Boom, and it was suggested that a second, maybe third chapter would be welcomed.  Here is the second...
~~~~~:

Illya Kuryakin was puzzling over something.  Sitting in the Canteen, alone and as far into the corner of the room as he could arrange to be seated, the blond agent reviewed the events of the past few days.  He had nothing conclusive on which to base his sense of foreboding, yet every instinct he possessed was pointing him towards yielding to it.

( Read more... )

After the Boom - PicFic Tuesday

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Last week I wrote Fall Down Go Boom, and it was suggested that a second, maybe third chapter would be welcomed.  Here is the second...
~~~~~:

Illya Kuryakin was puzzling over something.  Sitting in the Canteen, alone and as far into the corner of the room as he could arrange to be seated, the blond agent reviewed the events of the past few days.  He had nothing conclusive on which to base his sense of foreboding, yet every instinct he possessed was pointing him towards yielding to it.

( Read more... )