Light The Way - Conclusion - PicFic 6/9

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
The picture has taken over this chapter, I hope you'll forgive me.
~~~~~:

Illya came to with a blinding headache, the result of having been hit on the head with piece of driftwood that could have doubled as a baseball bat.  He remembered too late that if he shook his head to clear it there would be repercussions to that violence movement.

“Chyort...’ It was too late to pretend he wasn’t awake, and from the look of the person watching him the act would have been futile.

“Who are you?  Why did you hit me on the head like that?”  Two questions, neither of which would receive a satisfactory reply.  Instead the woman stood and started circling the blond agent, her movements reminiscent of a big cat as she smoothly covered the room with languid, long legged steps.

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"By the sea by the beautiful sea"~ for PicFic Tuesday 6/10

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

                             

It was unbelievably hot, even for a Summer’s day.  Napoleon had the next few days off as did his partner but Illya’s solution to dealing with the extreme temperatures was to volunteer for desk duty in headquarters.

Solo’s answer was the beach, not just any beach though; he decided a ride to the Rockaways was in order where the pristine white sand beaches were far enough from the city to suit him.  He could have gone to Coney Island, but knew it would be crowded, but at least in Far Rockaway it was more locals and less out of towners.

“Beach?” Illya exclaimed.”I want to get away from this unmerciful heat, not be in it.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure my friend. Sun, sand...women in bikinis.”

“Napoleon that is your fantasy not mine. Now if the temperatures were frigid and you said snow, ice-covered landscapes and beautiful Russian women in which to be snowed in within a cozy dacha...I would not hesitate.” Illya actually smiled.

“Snow, ice? How can you think of that? Well mentioning beautiful Russian women at least tells me there’s hope for you.”

Illya dismissed his partner with an unconcerned wave of his hand. “Have fun in the hot sand.”

“I’m sure I will.

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'On the Beach' for PicFic Tuesday June 6th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

(I'm not happy with this story, so I'm posting it now but may return to it one day to improve it. I've re-worked three times already.)



On the Beach


Napoleon Solo was enjoying himself immensely. He was relaxing on a recliner, beneath a shady palm tree on a beautiful sun kissed beach. The agent was happily sipping a tropical cocktail and watching a group of beautiful women as the passed a beach ball to each other. Near to the young women, a group of young men were turning a bonfire into a barbecue. From a transistor radio, nestling in the sand, wafted the sound of the summer’s pop hits. Oh yes, Napoleon Solo was definitely enjoying himself.

A small voice at the back of his mind seemed to be trying to tell him something. The voice had a Russian accent, which he recognised but couldn’t quite place. It sounded concerned, but Napoleon was unable to make out what it was saying exactly, so he ignored it.
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