Quarantined ~ for PicFic Tuesday challenge

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Napoleon and Illya looked at each other in dismay as the glass partitions were quickly slipped into place and the doors sealed.

“Aw come on, for cripessake!” Napoleon shouted, slamming his fist against the glass. “I have a date with Ramona Chichelli tonight...moonlight cruise on the Hudson, dinner dancing. The works and I paid for it in advance!”

“Sorry Mr. Solo, you know the rules,” chimed the nurse. Candy Sweetly was new on staff. The buxom blonde with an hourglass figure was all business and though Napoleon tried his best, disarming and charming smile, he failed tio convince her to let him have his freedom.

Illya stood with his arms crossed, smiling with satisfaction at his partner’s dilemma.

“I told you not to prepay for that date; things always happen, do they not?”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but we’re fine. Why do they have to do this?”

“You know the drill my friend. We were exposed to one of THRUSH’s concoctions and now must remain sequestered until our tests are completed.  We cannot risk exposing headquarters.”

Illya plopped himself down in the medical bed. “I for one am not going to waste my time worrying about this. Sleep will help the hours pass.”  He rolled over on his side, facing his back to his partner and closed his eyes, immediately falling asleep.”

“I hate when you do that, “ Napoleon mumbled, loosening his tie and laying down on his own bed.  “Can we at least get something to eat....food?”  He groaned into the intercom on the bed table. He  looked at his watch, knowing that Ramona would be at that cruise ship, expecting to meet him there later in the evening.  “Well at least she’ll get a good meal, and nice view...”

“Sorry Mr. Solo,” Nurse Candy responded over the intercom. “No food or liquids until we get your tests back.”

He crinkled his nose, making a face at her.

“I saw that.” She chimed back, just a little too cheerfully.

A short while later Napoleon looked over at his partner, sleeping in the bed across from him. Illya had  started coughing and looked paler than usual. Not long after more symptoms began present themselves...

The Russian woke up with a fierce headache...not unusual for him, but then he began to sweat, yet at the same time he was shivering with the chills. He complained of fatigue, even though he’d just woken up from a nice nap, and said it felt more like weakness. Every muscle in his body began to ache.

“Are you hungry chum?”

“Nyet.”

That was a definite ‘oh-oh’ moment to the American, as Illya was never, 'not hungry'.

Nurse Candy came in, suited and masked against contamination, checked Illya’s temperature and pronounced he was running a fever.

Then came the stomach cramps and the vomiting. Napoleon helped hold Illya’s head and the bedpan for him to be sick in.

“Oh gee this is just peachy,” he mumbled, feeling lucky he had no symptoms what-so-ever. Maybe the 'Solo Luck' was in full force, at least he hoped it was.

“Thank you for your pronouncement Dr. Solo,” Illya groaned before barfing again.

Several hours later, the doctor returned with the test results, and quarantine was surprisingly lifted.

“What gives Doc? “ Napoleon asked. “Illya’s as sick as a dog, and I’m fine. Isn’t it a little dangerous to lift the quarantine? We don’t know what THRUSH did to us.”

“Napoleon, you may develop symptoms and you may not. So we’re releasing you. Illya’s immune system is a little weaker than yours as he’s prone to colds, so he’ll have to stay.”

“A cold? No, he can’t have a cold, not with those symptoms,” the American protested.

“No not a cold, just the flu. There was no trace of any THRUSH drugs in your systems. Illya just has a bad case of the flu. We’re going to keep him here as he’s a little dehydrated from vomiting. We’ll need to get plenty of fluids into him, and food.  He’ll be fine in a few days, but he might still feel fatigued for as long as a few weeks; he has a pretty virulent  A strain of the virus. It’s good you were here, if he was home and in this condition without medical care, it could have developed into pneumonia very quickly.  I assure you, he’s going to be fine.”

Illya took that moment to moan, saying that he felt like he was going to die.

“No you are not going to die Mr. Kuryakin.”

The nurse stepped in, setting the Russian up with IV fluids and giving him aspirin for his fever, as well a a nice hot bowl of chicken soup. Illya was too weak to throw one of his usual tantrums and permitted her to feed him the soup.

Napoleon looked at his watch, figuring he had just enough time to get home, clean up and make his date after all.

“Fine, abandon me,” Illya huffed as the nurse offered him another spoonful of soup.  At that moment he caught a good glimpse of her cleavage. “On second thought, I will be fine, go to your date.”  He cocked his eyebrows and smiled for the first time since they were sequestered.

Napoleon suddenly got what his partner was on about and winked at him. “Feel better tovarisch,”

“Thank you. I am sure I will, with Nurse Candy’s careful ministrations. Her pretty face alone could revitalize me.”

“Mr. Kuryakin!” She smiled and blushed.

“Call me Illya, please.” He batted his baby blues at her and mustered his crooked smile.

Napoleon grinned, guessing where his partner had picked up that move. It was going to be a good night for both of them after all...well at least sort of, for the Russian.

.

The next morning Napoleon Solo was admitted to medical with his own case of the flu. A few days later Ramona followed suit, and at the end of the week... Shirley, Tracey, Adrienne and Stephanie...all from Communications were admitted as well.  All of them had dates with the senior Section II agent.

“Should have kept him in quarantine, “ Illya mused to the doctor.“Napoleon is like a Typhoid Mary.”

Kuryakin was released to light duty, and on Saturday night, he had a date all set with Nurse Candy....

Quarantined ~ for PicFic Tuesday challenge

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Napoleon and Illya looked at each other in dismay as the glass partitions were quickly slipped into place and the doors sealed.

“Aw come on, for cripessake!” Napoleon shouted, slamming his fist against the glass. “I have a date with Ramona Chichelli tonight...moonlight cruise on the Hudson, dinner dancing. The works and I paid for it in advance!”

“Sorry Mr. Solo, you know the rules,” chimed the nurse. Candy Sweetly was new on staff. The buxom blonde with an hourglass figure was all business and though Napoleon tried his best, disarming and charming smile, he failed tio convince her to let him have his freedom.

Illya stood with his arms crossed, smiling with satisfaction at his partner’s dilemma.

“I told you not to prepay for that date; things always happen, do they not?”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but we’re fine. Why do they have to do this?”

“You know the drill my friend. We were exposed to one of THRUSH’s concoctions and now must remain sequestered until our tests are completed.  We cannot risk exposing headquarters.”

Illya plopped himself down in the medical bed. “I for one am not going to waste my time worrying about this. Sleep will help the hours pass.”  He rolled over on his side, facing his back to his partner and closed his eyes, immediately falling asleep.”

“I hate when you do that, “ Napoleon mumbled, loosening his tie and laying down on his own bed.  “Can we at least get something to eat....food?”  He groaned into the intercom on the bed table. He  looked at his watch, knowing that Ramona would be at that cruise ship, expecting to meet him there later in the evening.  “Well at least she’ll get a good meal, and nice view...”

“Sorry Mr. Solo,” Nurse Candy responded over the intercom. “No food or liquids until we get your tests back.”

He crinkled his nose, making a face at her.

“I saw that.” She chimed back, just a little too cheerfully.

A short while later Napoleon looked over at his partner, sleeping in the bed across from him. Illya had  started coughing and looked paler than usual. Not long after more symptoms began present themselves...

The Russian woke up with a fierce headache...not unusual for him, but then he began to sweat, yet at the same time he was shivering with the chills. He complained of fatigue, even though he’d just woken up from a nice nap, and said it felt more like weakness. Every muscle in his body began to ache.

“Are you hungry chum?”

“Nyet.”

That was a definite ‘oh-oh’ moment to the American, as Illya was never, 'not hungry'.

Nurse Candy came in, suited and masked against contamination, checked Illya’s temperature and pronounced he was running a fever.

Then came the stomach cramps and the vomiting. Napoleon helped hold Illya’s head and the bedpan for him to be sick in.

“Oh gee this is just peachy,” he mumbled, feeling lucky he had no symptoms what-so-ever. Maybe the 'Solo Luck' was in full force, at least he hoped it was.

“Thank you for your pronouncement Dr. Solo,” Illya groaned before barfing again.

Several hours later, the doctor returned with the test results, and quarantine was surprisingly lifted.

“What gives Doc? “ Napoleon asked. “Illya’s as sick as a dog, and I’m fine. Isn’t it a little dangerous to lift the quarantine? We don’t know what THRUSH did to us.”

“Napoleon, you may develop symptoms and you may not. So we’re releasing you. Illya’s immune system is a little weaker than yours as he’s prone to colds, so he’ll have to stay.”

“A cold? No, he can’t have a cold, not with those symptoms,” the American protested.

“No not a cold, just the flu. There was no trace of any THRUSH drugs in your systems. Illya just has a bad case of the flu. We’re going to keep him here as he’s a little dehydrated from vomiting. We’ll need to get plenty of fluids into him, and food.  He’ll be fine in a few days, but he might still feel fatigued for as long as a few weeks; he has a pretty virulent  A strain of the virus. It’s good you were here, if he was home and in this condition without medical care, it could have developed into pneumonia very quickly.  I assure you, he’s going to be fine.”

Illya took that moment to moan, saying that he felt like he was going to die.

“No you are not going to die Mr. Kuryakin.”

The nurse stepped in, setting the Russian up with IV fluids and giving him aspirin for his fever, as well a a nice hot bowl of chicken soup. Illya was too weak to throw one of his usual tantrums and permitted her to feed him the soup.

Napoleon looked at his watch, figuring he had just enough time to get home, clean up and make his date after all.

“Fine, abandon me,” Illya huffed as the nurse offered him another spoonful of soup.  At that moment he caught a good glimpse of her cleavage. “On second thought, I will be fine, go to your date.”  He cocked his eyebrows and smiled for the first time since they were sequestered.

Napoleon suddenly got what his partner was on about and winked at him. “Feel better tovarisch,”

“Thank you. I am sure I will, with Nurse Candy’s careful ministrations. Her pretty face alone could revitalize me.”

“Mr. Kuryakin!” She smiled and blushed.

“Call me Illya, please.” He batted his baby blues at her and mustered his crooked smile.

Napoleon grinned, guessing where his partner had picked up that move. It was going to be a good night for both of them after all...well at least sort of, for the Russian.

.

The next morning Napoleon Solo was admitted to medical with his own case of the flu. A few days later Ramona followed suit, and at the end of the week... Shirley, Tracey, Adrienne and Stephanie...all from Communications were admitted as well.  All of them had dates with the senior Section II agent.

“Should have kept him in quarantine, “ Illya mused to the doctor.“Napoleon is like a Typhoid Mary.”

Kuryakin was released to light duty, and on Saturday night, he had a date all set with Nurse Candy....

PicFic for 10/2/12

[avirra.livejournal.com]

Sign of the Past

The bright warning sign cautioning that the area was under quarantine made Illya pause.  He knew that Napoleon was somewhere in that building and there were not many things that would keep him from his partner, but at the moment, that one sign was doing the trick.

It might not have given another man as much pause, but Illya was a child of war.  Quarantine signs meant death on the other side.  New orphans arriving were always quarantined when they first arrived and Illya had witnessed firsthand the after-effects of whooping cough, smallpox and typhus.  Most who became ill in quarantine died there – there were simply not enough supplies or medical staff to do more than keep the diseases down to the unfortunate ones and prevent them from sweeping through the whole orphanage.

Shaking his head slightly as if to banish those memories, Illya crept closer and took a better look at the building.  It seemed to have none of what he would have considered even the most basic of precautions that a quarantine area should have.  His head and his gut were in total disagreement, but he set his jaw and readied himself to enter.  If the place was under a genuine quarantine, he wanted to get his partner out of there and to decent medical care as quickly as possible.

On the other hand, if that sign was a fake?  In that case, this particular mutation of THRUSH (Illya had always thought the name for a grouping of thrush to be highly appropriate) would find out how very ill-advised it was to stir up bad memories in a demolitions expert.

PicFic for 10/2/12

[avirra.livejournal.com]

Sign of the Past

The bright warning sign cautioning that the area was under quarantine made Illya pause.  He knew that Napoleon was somewhere in that building and there were not many things that would keep him from his partner, but at the moment, that one sign was doing the trick.

It might not have given another man as much pause, but Illya was a child of war.  Quarantine signs meant death on the other side.  New orphans arriving were always quarantined when they first arrived and Illya had witnessed firsthand the after-effects of whooping cough, smallpox and typhus.  Most who became ill in quarantine died there – there were simply not enough supplies or medical staff to do more than keep the diseases down to the unfortunate ones and prevent them from sweeping through the whole orphanage.

Shaking his head slightly as if to banish those memories, Illya crept closer and took a better look at the building.  It seemed to have none of what he would have considered even the most basic of precautions that a quarantine area should have.  His head and his gut were in total disagreement, but he set his jaw and readied himself to enter.  If the place was under a genuine quarantine, he wanted to get his partner out of there and to decent medical care as quickly as possible.

On the other hand, if that sign was a fake?  In that case, this particular mutation of THRUSH (Illya had always thought the name for a grouping of thrush to be highly appropriate) would find out how very ill-advised it was to stir up bad memories in a demolitions expert.

PicFic Tuesday Overripe Tomato

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

The two agents could hear the nurses giggling in the hall after leaving Napoleon’s room.  They had worked together to spread the cream all over his body spending extra time on certain parts of his anatomy and seemed to have enjoyed it just a bit too much.  

“This is so embarrassing,” Napoleon pouted, his speech slightly slurred from the temporary paresthesia of his mouth muscles.  “Tell me again why we had to go into a building that had quarantine signs all over it.”

“Waverly gave us an assignment and to complete it, we needed to enter.  The researcher held there was critical to world security.” Illya answered looking at his partner, a grin playing on his face.

“I’m glad you find this so funny. I look like a peeling ripe tomato.”

“Really, it is not that bad,” he assured him trying not to laugh. 

Alternating between chills and fevers, a constant headache, his face, lips and eyes puffed up, Napoleon’s whole body was beet red, skin peeling, and itchy.  To prevent infection from scratching the rash, he was wearing white cotton gloves.

 “You will be out of medical in a week or so.”

“We’ll see about that!  Why aren’t you in here with me?  You also went into the area that had the infective materials flying around in it.”

“It is not from the elements we inhaled that caused the rash, it the Vancomycin they gave us quickly to counteract the substance Thrush had released.  You are reacting to the fast infusion of it.”

“Why me?”

“People react differently to drugs.”

“But why me?”

“This is one medication your system cannot handle if infused quickly.”

“But why didn’t this happen to you?”

“Really Napoleon you are acting like a two year old.  Why, Why, Why.  It is the way it is.  I did not have a problem with it, you did, and the result is called the Red Man’s syndrome.”

Napoleon pushed off the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed attempting to stand up but became dizzy almost falling.

Illya caught him, putting him back in bed and covering him up.

“Where do you think you are going?”

 “I need to get out of here, now!” 

“My friend, you had a severe reaction to the medication.  Your blood pressure is low enough to cause weakness and dizziness.  Now lay back and let your body heal.”

“Since when do you advise staying in medical?  Come on Illya, get me out of here.”

“I will make you a deal.  When your legs do not turn to jelly, your body is not quite a Beefsteak, and your skin is done peeling, I will take you home.”

“You’re a very funny man, aren’t you?  Any other references to tomatoes you want to throw at me?”  Napoleon said sarcastically pulling up his covers to his chin.

“Now there really is no reason to be saucy, my friend.  I am just trying to help, besides follow the doctor’s directions and in no time you will be able to do the salsa.”

“Out!” Napoleon yelled grabbing his pillow.

“See you tomorrow.  Enjoy the tomatoes taking care of you,” Illya called back over his shoulder, laughing as he closed the door just before the pillow hit it.

In the quiet hospital room, Napoleon smiled then chuckled.  Although it was irritating lying in medical looking like an overripe tomato, his partner did manage to cheer him up.

 

PicFic Tuesday Overripe Tomato

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

The two agents could hear the nurses giggling in the hall after leaving Napoleon’s room.  They had worked together to spread the cream all over his body spending extra time on certain parts of his anatomy and seemed to have enjoyed it just a bit too much.  

“This is so embarrassing,” Napoleon pouted, his speech slightly slurred from the temporary paresthesia of his mouth muscles.  “Tell me again why we had to go into a building that had quarantine signs all over it.”

“Waverly gave us an assignment and to complete it, we needed to enter.  The researcher held there was critical to world security.” Illya answered looking at his partner, a grin playing on his face.

“I’m glad you find this so funny. I look like a peeling ripe tomato.”

“Really, it is not that bad,” he assured him trying not to laugh. 

Alternating between chills and fevers, a constant headache, his face, lips and eyes puffed up, Napoleon’s whole body was beet red, skin peeling, and itchy.  To prevent infection from scratching the rash, he was wearing white cotton gloves.

 “You will be out of medical in a week or so.”

“We’ll see about that!  Why aren’t you in here with me?  You also went into the area that had the infective materials flying around in it.”

“It is not from the elements we inhaled that caused the rash, it the Vancomycin they gave us quickly to counteract the substance Thrush had released.  You are reacting to the fast infusion of it.”

“Why me?”

“People react differently to drugs.”

“But why me?”

“This is one medication your system cannot handle if infused quickly.”

“But why didn’t this happen to you?”

“Really Napoleon you are acting like a two year old.  Why, Why, Why.  It is the way it is.  I did not have a problem with it, you did, and the result is called the Red Man’s syndrome.”

Napoleon pushed off the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed attempting to stand up but became dizzy almost falling.

Illya caught him, putting him back in bed and covering him up.

“Where do you think you are going?”

 “I need to get out of here, now!” 

“My friend, you had a severe reaction to the medication.  Your blood pressure is low enough to cause weakness and dizziness.  Now lay back and let your body heal.”

“Since when do you advise staying in medical?  Come on Illya, get me out of here.”

“I will make you a deal.  When your legs do not turn to jelly, your body is not quite a Beefsteak, and your skin is done peeling, I will take you home.”

“You’re a very funny man, aren’t you?  Any other references to tomatoes you want to throw at me?”  Napoleon said sarcastically pulling up his covers to his chin.

“Now there really is no reason to be saucy, my friend.  I am just trying to help, besides follow the doctor’s directions and in no time you will be able to do the salsa.”

“Out!” Napoleon yelled grabbing his pillow.

“See you tomorrow.  Enjoy the tomatoes taking care of you,” Illya called back over his shoulder, laughing as he closed the door just before the pillow hit it.

In the quiet hospital room, Napoleon smiled then chuckled.  Although it was irritating lying in medical looking like an overripe tomato, his partner did manage to cheer him up.