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The Day After for A Little Drabble Do Ya
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"I thought you're off today, another 24 hours to recuperate from that knock on the head."
Napoleon had last seen his partner as he tried to overcome the nausea of breakfast. Now here he was suited up, sitting in the office.
"I feel… fine. I simply…"
Illya fumbled for words, indicating he wasn't fine.
"You forgot! You woke up this morning and forgot you weren't supposed to work."
Kuryakin hated concussions, the effects were unpredictable after the first fifteen or twenty of them.
"Fine, but I'm not going home."
He instead went to the sofa and curled up.
Asleep.
Fine.
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