Sep. 3rd, 2014

[identity profile] avirra.livejournal.com

April paced in the waiting area like a caged lioness. Her tension wasn't lessened in the least by the way Napoleon and Illya entered the room to join her, exchanging glances with one another before Napoleon spoke.

"I know it might not seem like it at the moment, April, but Mark was very lucky."

"Lucky? You call that lucky?"

April snapping at Napoleon showed how tightly her nerves were stretched. Napoleon knew how he would be if it were Illya in that position and spoke gently to her.

"Considering that dart was meant to kill him? Yes, I do."


Vegas 1 - Vegas 2 - Vegas 3 - Vegas 4 - Vegas 5 - Vegas 6 - Vegas 7 - Vegas 8 - Vegas 9
[identity profile] lindafishes8.livejournal.com


The hypodermic was poised over Illya’s left gluteus muscle as he argued with the night nurse in U.N.C.L.E.’s Medical. The injection would have been delivered already except that his hand was blocking the site.

Read more... )
[identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com
We already have some early postings but it's never too late to drabble.  Just whip up 100 words of MFU and, to misquote a line from A Hard Day's Night... "Drabble on son, drabble on."

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
How many more times would he end up sitting here? Would this be the last time he watched over his partner, his friend, as he fought for life? Admittedly, waiting was a lot more comfortable since they had received the gift of the armchair, but that didn’t make the many hours of waiting any easier. Would this be the time his partner’s body finally surrendered to the inevitable? Or, would he make another miraculous recovery and live to fight another day and another foe?

It was still too soon for the answer. All he could do was wait and hope.
[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com

(Half drabbles, to a double drabble at the end)


Prompted by: All Lovely Things~Conrad Aiken

.

All lovely things will have an ending,
All lovely things will fade and die,
And youth, that's now so bravely spending,
Will beg a penny by and by.

Napoleon Solo was in trouble and he knew it. He was pretty much broke, his clothes were in tatters, communicator gone and there was no one to help him in this flea bitten town in the middle of nowhere.

He had enough in his pocket for a cup of strong coffee.         newmanisgoodbutvaughngottheoscarnomination

Fine ladies soon are all forgotten,
And goldenrod is dust when dead,
The sweetest flesh and flowers are rotten
And cobwebs tent the brightest head.

It wasn't the cleanest of diners, but by comparison to how he looked...it was the Taj Mahal.

"Hey you buddy, we don't allow bums in here, so move it along," the fry cook yelled from the pass-through window.

"All I want is a cup of coffee...I can pay.

Come back, true love! Sweet youth, return!—
But time goes on, and will, unheeding,
Though hands will reach, and eyes will yearn,
And the wild days set true hearts bleeding.

"Hey Mel, let the guy have it, he looks like he could use it," a waitress yelled back.

Mel threw up his hands, no arguing with Flo.

"Come on, pull up a stool. You look to be a handsome guy under that mess.

"Thank you...ummm, Flo. This used to be a very expensive Italian suit before someone saw fit to ruin it."

"Eye-talian, never heard of that kind of suit. Tell you what honey, I'll spot you a nice big slice of apple pie with that coffee and you can tell me exactly what happened to you...and maybe find you some clean clothes."

Come back, true love! Sweet youth, remain!—
But goldenrod and daisies wither,
And over them blows autumn rain,
They pass, they pass, and know not whither.

"I owe you more thanks Flo, but what I really need is to get to a telephone and call my boss. He's going to be pretty mad at me."

"You know what, I have a feeling this story is going to get even more interesting." She walked back into the kitchen, coming out with the promised apple pie, and a full order of beef stew.

Napoleon smiled, but waved his hand. "I don't have the money to pay for this. I only have enough for the coffee."

"It's all right sugar, but tell you what, if you feel guilty about accepting some charity then you can do the dishes tonight and I think there's some spare pants and a tee-shirt in the store room."

"Again I owe you my thanks. That sounds like a deal...but a telephone please? I can make it a collect call."

Flow grinned."What's your name honey?"

"Solo, Napoleon Solo."

"Well Nappy, you just finish your meal and you can use the phone in the back office...that is if you promise to tell me your tale." This time it was her turn to smile.

"Scouts honor," he promised and dug into his food like a starving man. Illya would have been impressed...

[identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com

“I hate humid weather, and this is the most humid spot I can ever recall having the misfortune to occupy.”

Napoleon smiled at the blond, his sweaty forehead proof of his complaint.

“Sorry you’re uncomfortable Illya, but when we’re told to go...”

“Yes, I know... I just prefer being sent to a frigid, icy landscape rather than this swampy excuse for a landmass.”

The stretch of land outside of Orlando Florida was indeed a giant swamp, and intel of THRUSH trying to infiltrate the operation in progress was enough to send agents to investigate.

Waverly’s friend Walt needed his help.

images-1

[identity profile] avirra.livejournal.com
One from two and a half years ago (have I really been doing drabs that long? *l*).

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