Spy Confessions - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

"She did it again…" The blond shook his head, causing the silky strands to wave like wheat in the wind.

"What's that tovarisch?" Napoleon noted the hair, shook his head slightly but the Brylcreem had done its job. Again.

"You know very well how these things go.  Stories are written and without fail I am bludgeoned, shot or otherwise maimed.  I catch the brunt of the violence with these writers.  I do not understand."

More head shaking and sighs only served to exacerbate Napoleon's ire over the hair problem.  Illya's complaint seemed petty.

"At least you have good hair."

"True."

"Saying Goodbye" ( a double drabble) ~ for a Little Drabble Do Ya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

“Into your hands, O Lord,

we humbly entrust our brother William

In this life you embraced him

with your tender love;

deliver him  now from every evil

and bid him enter eternal rest.”

The prayers were concluded and each of the agents present placed a rose atop the coffin, saying their last goodbyes to their coworker.

Kuryakin remained off to the side; not a believer in such rituals. When you were dead, you were dead...that was it.  End of story.

As he and Solo departed the cemetery, Napoleon challenged him.

“Why couldn’t you see Billy off?”

“My placing a flower or not is immaterial. He is gone. At least there was enough left of him to bury. That was seen to...is that not enough?”

“Gee I hope you don’t act this way when I’m gone.”

“Would you prefer wailing and the gnashing of teeth?”

“Well not such an extreme, but I’d hope you’d show some emotion.”

“Just because I do not show my feelings, does not mean they are not there my friend. I will mourn you when you are gone, just do not make it too soon?”

Napoleon smiled at that answer.” I’ll try not to chum.”

Hidden Smiles - A Little Drabble Do Ya! - May 6th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Illya Kuryakin had a reputation for rarely smiling; something which led to him being labelled as miserable and grumpy. Anyone who had even the slightest knowledge of Russian people knew that this was very much a cultural thing. Illya and his fellow countrymen really only smiled when they had something the smile about. Napoleon Solo was all too aware of this fact, but over the years he’d learned to read his partner’s, apparently, emotionless expression. He’d realised that Kuryakin’s smiles were often pointed inwards; hidden from the rest of the world, for fear of losing his carefully constructed icy demeanour.