(Half drabbles, to a double drabble at the end)
Prompted by: All Lovely Things~Conrad Aiken
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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. 
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...