No Reason - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Neither man had anything to offer, no words of wisdom or comfort.  One of their own was gone, a good agent who would not live to serve another day in the fight against evil and corruption.

Napoleon felt tired, burdened by the loss.  What did it mean to be Chief Enforcement Agent?  It meant you felt angry and … empty.
“Why do some of us come home safe, Illya?’  A sigh punctuated the misery… “How is that we survive and he didn’t?”

Illya recognized his friend’s agony, but for all of his facility with languages, there were no words now.

The Randomness of life Chapter 42~ for A Little Drabble Do Ya, Wednesday drabble challenge 5/22

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

A little follow-up to The Double Affair


                             

Prompted by: Why do I love You, Sir? ~Emily Dickinson

.

She cannot keep Her place.

He knew he had to break it off, but didn’t want to be callous about it. Sandy was wild about him. She could be volatile, yet that drew him to her.

Napoleon was worried  he was getting too close by seeing her more than the other women in his life.

.
The Wisdom it be so—

They lay together in her bed, as her roommate, Taffy, was off now, somewhere with Illya.

He would have never put those two together, yet when the Russian saw what he liked, he went after it without any urging. That was the way he preferred it.

                                               

Sandy was another matter...

.

And reasons not contained—Of Talk—

She cried, threw her shoe at him as he dressed himself.

“Napoleon Solo I  hate you! How can you do this to me?”

“Sandy, it has to be. Can’t risk you being hurt. If someone found out about you, you’d become my weak spot...you’d be a target.”

“Me?”

“Yes you.”

.

I love Thee—

Sandy watched as he walked out her door for the last time, and sat staring at his framed photo still on her coffee table.

Inscribed, “With love, Napoleon.” She thought that meant something, but now, perhaps not.

“I love you Napoleon Solo,” she whispered, throwing the picture into the fireplace.

The Randomness of Life~ Chapter 27 for a Little Drabble do Ya Wednesday

[mlaw]

 

A little follow-up to The Double Affair


                             

Prompted by: Why do I love You, Sir? ~Emily Dickinson

.

She cannot keep Her place.

He knew he had to break it off, but didn’t want to be callous about it. Sandy was wild about him. She could be volatile, yet that drew him to her.

Napoleon was worried  he was getting too close by seeing her more than the other women in his life.

.


The Wisdom it be so—

They lay together in her bed, as her roommate, Taffy, was off now, somewhere with Illya.

He would have never put those two together, yet when the Russian saw what he liked, he went after it without any urging. That was the way he preferred it.

                                               

Sandy was another matter...

.


And reasons not contained—




—Of Talk—

She cried, threw her shoe at him as he dressed himself.

“Napoleon Solo I  hate you! How can you do this to me?”

“Sandy, it has to be. Can’t risk you being hurt. If someone found out about you, you’d become my weak spot...you’d be a target.”

“Me?”

“Yes you.”

.

I love Thee—

Sandy watched as he walked out her door for the last time, and sat staring at his framed photo still on her coffee table.

Inscribed, “With love, Napoleon.” She thought that meant something, but now, perhaps not.

“I love you Napoleon Solo,” she whispered, throwing the picture into the fireplace.

A Little Drabble Do Ya: A Poetic Interlude

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

“What’s that you’re reading, Illya?”

“A book.”

“That much I can see, smart – alecky Russian.”

“It is ‘Sonnets from the Portuguese’ by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.”

“Poetry? I didn’t take you for the poetic type, Tovarisch.”

“I am Russian, Napoleon; poetry is in my blood. It moves through me with every beat of my heart. It makes my reality a little brighter and colors my dreams with vivid images of pure imagination. I enjoy reading it.”

“You sound like you could enjoy writing poetry, Illya. Have you ever tried?”

“I have.”

“May I read it?”

“Let me think about that, Napoleon.”

No Reason - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glenmered]

Neither man had anything to offer, no words of wisdom or comfort.  One of their own was gone, a good agent who would not live to serve another day in the fight against evil and corruption.

Napoleon felt tired, burdened by the loss.  What did it mean to be Chief Enforcement Agent?  It meant you felt angry and … empty.
“Why do some of us come home safe, Illya?’  A sigh punctuated the misery… “How is that we survive and he didn’t?”

Illya recognized his friend’s agony, but for all of his facility with languages, there were no words now.

A Little Drabble Do Ya - Lost And Found Part 3

[avrovulcan.livejournal.com]

Link to part two: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/314096.html

“I don’t believe Illya’s gone.”

The nurse fussed with Napoleon’s IV line.

“I’m sorry, he suffered terrible injuries in the helicopter crash, we couldn’t save him,” she indicated his bandaged chest, “It’s a miracle you’re alive, some of the shrapnel lodged very close to your heart.”

Too tired to think, he fell asleep from the drug surreptitiously administered to his IV line.

When he woke again, a paper bag was by his bed, the contents appeared to belong to Illya: his ring, medallion, damaged communicator, and special. Things Illya wouldn’t have given up.

Thus THRUSH’s attempt to condition Solo began.