Picfic tuesday Mirrors, mirrors...

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

“Magic Mirror... who is the fairest in that land...”

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The Randomness of Life Chapter 30~ for A Little Drabble Do Ya, Wednesday drabble challenge

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

                                                                                               


Prompted by: Courage~Robert Service

.

Upon a branch as bleak as night

I was so cold that first night alone, as I hid behind the great trees near the ruins of our dacha.

They were gone, all gone. Papa, Mama, Babushka. Dimitry, the twins, my beloved baby sister Katiya... Uncle Vanya and cousin Anatasiya.

Why did I live?" Little Illya asked himself.

.

Serene it seemed to lift its head:

Today I watched as a Bittern stopped to rest in a tree, I was surprised to see it as it was far from the Dnieper River where Papa told me they liked to winter.

Suddenly there were explosions coming from Kyiv, startling the bird; it flew away. Perhaps that is what happened to all the animals... except the wolves.

They remained to scavenge among the dead.

"I will not become their prey." Little Illya vowed to himself.

.

And I shall see what none shall see -

I entered the ruins of the city, there were so many buildings torn apart, just piles of ash and rubble. The smell of death... everywhere.

I needed to find water. A broken pipe gave me that precious gift.

"Spacibo." Little Illya said to himself.

.

And I shall know what none shall know -

I was determined to survive, but needed food and shelter. I raided the ruins for what I needed. A piece of babka, potatoes, vodka. Clothing, a rucksack...a knife. The city would provide what shelter I needed in spite of her grievous wounds.

"I will live," Little Illya promised himself.

.

But though I pass before my time,

I am safe in my hiding place. There is fire, food, water, books... though the Nazis might find me and take me.

I heard my parents speak of a camp, but better I die than go to that place, that camp of death.

"I am frightened," Little Illya cried to himself.


* note, Images from my epic Illya backstory: 'Beginnings' http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6767104/1/Beginnings

Picfic Tuesday, Mirrors Mirrors

[svetlanacat6]

“Magic Mirror... who is the fairest in that land...”

 

( Read more... )

 

Safe - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Returning to UNCLE at the age of fifty held a few unique benefits for the normally reticent Illya Kuryakin.  Unlike his long time partner, Napoleon Solo, the Russian had never rushed into romantic liaisons with the women at work; his style was more subdued.
Perhaps life in the fashion world had softened his resolve, and his reticence.

“I am incredibly happy that you returned safely.”

When they had met, the pretty brunette told him to come back safe, something that Napoleon hoped was directed at both men.

As Zee lay in Illya’s arms, he reckoned it was only for him.

The Randomness of Life~ Chapter 30 for a Little Drabble do Ya Wednesday

[mlaw]

                                                                                  

Prompted by: Courage~Robert Service

.

Upon a branch as bleak as night

I was so cold that first night alone, as I hid behind the great trees near the ruins of our dacha.

They were gone, all gone. Papa, Mama, Babushka. Dimitry, the twins, my beloved baby sister Katiya... Uncle Vanya and cousin Anatasiya.

Why did I live?" Little Illya asked himself.

.

Serene it seemed to lift its head:

Today I watched as a Bittern stopped to rest in a tree, I was surprised to see it as it was far from the Dnieper River where Papa told me they liked to winter.

Suddenly there were explosions coming from Kyiv, startling the bird; it flew away. Perhaps that is what happened to all the animals... except the wolves.

They remained to scavenge among the dead.

"I will not become their prey." Little Illya vowed to himself.

.

And I shall see what none shall see -

I entered the ruins of the city, there were so many buildings torn apart, just piles of ash and rubble. The smell of death... everywhere.

I needed to find water. A broken pipe gave me that precious gift.

"Spacibo." Little Illya said to himself.

.

And I shall know what none shall know -

I was determined to survive, but needed food and shelter. I raided the ruins for what I needed. A piece of babka, potatoes, vodka. Clothing, a rucksack...a knife. The city would provide what shelter I needed in spite of her grievous wounds.

"I will live," Little Illya promised himself.

.

But though I pass before my time,

I am safe in my hiding place. There is fire, food, water, books... though the Nazis might find me and take me.

I heard my parents speak of a camp, but better I die than go to that place, that camp of death.

"I am frightened," Little Illya cried to himself.


* note, Images from my epic Illya backstory: 'Beginnings' http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6767104/1/Beginnings

 

A Little Drabble Do Ya: Making Excuses

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

“Celia, I’m so sorry, but duty calls. I must leave,” Napoleon said as he finished dressing and bent to kiss his latest conquest as she sat with the sheets draped around her. “You’re beautiful and I had a wonderful time.” He shoved his feet into his shoes. “Bye, baby,” he said as he let himself out.

He exited the building, walked a block and got into the passenger side of a parked car. “Thanks, Partner; she was getting too clingy.”

“Communicators were not made to extricate you from clingy women. One day, this will backfire badly.”

“You’re probably right, Illya.”

A Little Drabble Do Ya: Making Excuses

[alynwa]

“Celia, I’m so sorry, but duty calls. I must leave,” Napoleon said as he finished dressing and bent to kiss his latest conquest as she sat with the sheets draped around her. “You’re beautiful and I had a wonderful time.” He shoved his feet into his shoes. “Bye, baby,” he said as he let himself out.

He exited the building, walked a block and got into the passenger side of a parked car. “Thanks, Partner; she was getting too clingy.”

“Communicators were not made to extricate you from clingy women. One day, this will backfire badly.”

“You’re probably right, Illya.”

Picfic Tuesday: Aftermath

[alynwa]

April stood in the shower and welcomed the hot water cascading down her body. This feels so good; I may stay in here all night. She adjusted the spray to almost needle – like sharpness and stood so that it massaged the shoulder that had been dislocated four days earlier while she was being held captive and tortured by Lydia DeMille, a mid – level THRUSH operative intent on making her bones on April’s back.

April snorted at the memory. She was so sure Mark hadn’t survived that fall. I wish I had a camera to take a picture of the look on her face when he burst through the door! I wanted nothing more than to let him blow her head off, but I’m glad I got through to him to make him realize that having Illya interrogate her using Veritol 19 and then shipping her to Tartarus was the worst punishment she could ever receive. She rolled her shoulder reflexively. Poor Mark, he was so apologetic about snapping my shoulder back into place. God, that hurt!

Reluctantly, she turned off the spigots and stepped onto her bathroom rug. There was so much steam she could barely see her mirror. I love my apartment, she thought. She had been released from Medical earlier in the day with instructions to rest for another week. Yeah, right, as Mark would say. As she slipped on a white spaghetti – strapped cotton tee she thought, I have enough paperwork on my desk to keep me busy for a couple of days.

She caught a glimpse of herself through the steam in the mirror. It’s probably a blessing in disguise that I really can’t see myself too well. I’m going to have some lovely new scars on my torso.

She walked into her bedroom, pulled back her bed covers and got into bed. She propped herself up and was just about to open her new novel when she heard a key going into her front door. She immediately pulled her gun out from under the pillow and listened. She sighed with relief as she heard her alarms being reset and Mark giving his coded whistle.

“April? You awake, Luv?”

“Yes, come on back.” Her partner had returned to the office after dropping her at home with the promise that he would be coming to stay the night to make sure all was well.

“Be there in a few,” he called. Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the bedroom carrying a tray loaded down with a teapot, cups and several covered plates and bowls. “’Ere we go. This was me Mum’s way of making me feel better: scones, clotted cream, jams with tea and honey.” He set it down on the bed and sat next to her.

“Darling, this looks wonderful! Thanks so much, but you didn’t have to…”

“I’m your partner, April. I want to; now eat. Afterwards, you’ll take your meds and go to sleep. I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”

“It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before, Darling.”

“You don’t need me bumping up against your boo – boos.” He broke off a piece of scone and popped it into his mouth. “Delicious. Oh, by the way, DeMille was sent off to Tartarus. You’ll never see her again, Luv.”

She sighed contentedly. This is the best part of a mission: being home in one piece, sort of, and knowing my partner’s safe. Life is good.
 

A Little Drabble Do Ya - The Pick Up - Epilogue

[avrovulcan.livejournal.com]

Link to The Pick Up Part Ten:http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/245065.html

The Pick Up - Epilogue.



Illya and Napoleon handed the envelope to Mr. Waverly. He opened it and removed an elegant white and gold card.

“A wedding invitation sir?” Solo asked incredulously, glancing towards his partner and seeing the same disbelief in Kuryakin he knew he himself was feeling.

Had they really gone through all the trouble France, just for that?

“Not just any invitation, this is to my niece’s wedding, her father’s an advisor to the French president.” Waverly removed a microdot from the card, ”This is a list of the high ranking guests. We are providing the security.”

“We’ll start on it immediately.”