My offering for the Section 7 party

[spikesgirl58.livejournal.com]

Title: The Twelve Days of Christmas, ala Napoleon Solo
Author: Spikesgirl58
Rating: Gish

This is from the vaults, but I hope you will have fun with it. I have actually made this tree and used it for Christmas more than once.



Illya Kuryakin turned the corner into his office and stopped. There, sitting on the file cabinet he shared with Napoleon was a vase. In it was a small tree branch, its skeletal twigs reaching for the ceiling. Dangling from one of the branches was a bullet with a bow on it.

“Napoleon, I almost hesitate to ask.” He looked over at his partner, who was wearing a most satisfied grin. “What is that?”

( Read more... )

And Another Thing...

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Re: Christmas Party

It has come to my attention this morning that the festivities planned for
this evening  are to include activities that might be construed as
inappropriate for agents and employees of the United Network Command
forLaw and Enforcement. I will remind you that, even in times of leisure
and respite, we all have a responsibility to the Command and its precepts.
The honor and reputation of this organization  are never on holiday.
Be aware people, and enjoy the party.

AW

Pssst... Illya!

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Agent Kuryakin turned immediately towards the hissing sound that accompanied his name.
"Oh, it's you George.  Have you obtained the item I requested?"  George Dennel loved it when agents came to him with special requests, it made him feel like one of the guys, um... those guys, the other ones who... the agents.
"Yes, and it's a great one if I do say so myself.  That photo will fit perfectly and ..."  Illya held up his hand to hush the torrent of words.
"Fine, that is excellent work George, I have no doubt about your, um... I  have every confidence in you."
George beamed with gratitude for the compliment.  Gosh darn it, these Section II fellas really were a nice bunch.  Illya brought the eager technical wizard back to earth.
"So, you will have it in place in time for the party then?"  George nodded his head vigorously.
"Oh, absolutely Illya.  And it will be right there, right in the mid..."
"Good job, George.  I leave the details to you."
Illya patted George on the back and turned towards the elevator, his meeting with Napoleon and Mr. Waverly only minutes away.  He smiled just a little at the thought of his little scheme.  Some things made him genuinely happy.

Day 10 of the 25 Days of Christmas Countdown

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Party Party Party!

No, Napoleon it's not a toga party. And clothing
isn't optional.

Time to post your tidbits (ie stories drabbles etc), and tales of
what's happening or happened
at today's UNCLE Christmas Party...fodder for the
on-going 'Watercooler Challenge.'-where we
hear rumors and gossip about certain employees,
accusations made, and denied....hmmm.

Pre-Christmas party, the morning of December 10th

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

The stockings were hung by the cardboard cutout chimney with care set up in the Commissary. A Christmas tree decorated with large colorful lights, tinsel and personal ornaments made by the employees of the New York headquarters of U.N.C.L.E….well mostly the ladies that is, dangled festively.

The caterer, hired by Mr. Waverly, had arrived and under the watchful eye of Security set up the feast in the gymnasium. This year there was going to be live music at the party, put together by members of the staff who were more musically inclined, though Kuryakin declined to participate, apparently he had other plans.(conconcted with George Dennell)

Between sets a record player was to be set up to keep the mood going by playing the latest top 100 hits.

( Read more... )

Hmmm...for day 10 pf the 25 Days of Christmas Countdown

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

                     May our card put a damper on your Christmas partry!
Mwaaa-haa haaa!

Luncheon...

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

With Alexander Waverly’s approval a selection of Christmas music was piped into the Commissary at lunch time, getting things off to a festive start.  A monitor had been installed with a louping image of a crackling fireplace playing...in living color no less. It was an attempt to warm up figuratively that is, the sometimes cold and sterile grey walls of headquarters.

The Old Man was going all out this year to see that his people would enjoy the holidays. THRUSH's uspoken truce and cessation of their activities for the month of December was a welcome respite, though there were other evil doers out in the world that still had to be dealt with from time to time.

There were more smiles on faces than usual as people waited in line for their food. The Christmas spirit was in the air.

Napoleon had gotten there early and was sitting at his usual table in the back corner waiting for Illya to arrive. They’d agreed that a light lunch...well, light to Napoleon, was in order, given how much delicious food was being catered for the party.  He imagined Illya salivating with anticipation; with the Russian’s bottomless pit of a stomach who knew how much he could actually eat. Some people were making bets.

Mark Slate walked over with a helping of lasagna, foregoing the turkey as it would make him too sleepy.  He didn’t want to miss any of the festivities tonight, especially that Twister challenge.

“Say, I saw Illya whispering with George Dennell out in the corridor. Wonder what that’s all about?” Mark asked.

“Really? Hmm, thanks Mark,” Napoleon cocked an eyebrow…

"So what's this Christmas song I hear you made up mate? Heard it has to do with the twelve days of Christmas?"*

"And so it does Mark, but that's for later when the punch and other liquor is flowing."

"Making up for not playing Santa Claus his year huh?"

"Exactly."



* referece to a clever song in Spikegirl's "Twelve Days of Christmas ala Napoleon Solo" story.

Party time!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

“Get out of the way!” Napoleon shouted.”Clear a path!”

If it wasn’t for the fact he was at the annual headquarters Christmas party being held in the gymnasium, people would have gone on instant alert.

The lights were turned down low to let the spotlighted glitter ball reflect throughout the room and colorful holiday lights twinkled on a rather large Christmas tree set up in one corner. Beneath it had been piled wrapped packages for Santa to give out when he arrived, but apparently one had been opened already.

The holiday cheer and champagne punch were flowing, the music was blasting as the pickup band who were calling themselves ‘The Bird Watchers,' and with Mark Slate singing lead; they belted out their version of a song called ‘Do Wha Diddy.’ The song had been in the number one spot on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 in October of last year.

Apparently the band was in on what had just happened and were somehow prepared with alternate lyrics...

“There he goes just a runnin’ cross the gym, singin’ Do Wha Diddy, Diddy Dum Diddy Do.

Shoutin’ out orders just as snappy as can be, singin’ Do Wha Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Do.

He looks good, (he looks good) he looks fine (he looks fine)

Solo’s on the ladies’ minds…”

Napoleon didn’t hear a word of their little tribute to him as he was chasing his partner through the crowd on the dance floor.

“Kuryakin I swear I’m going to get you for that!” He called after the Russian, who as usual, managed to disappear without a trace...for the moment.

Apparently the usual mischief had already begun, along with the party. It had something to do with a photograph George Dennell had procured for him.

(OKAY- someone pick up where I left off!)

Shenanigans - Christmas Gossip Challenge

[ssclassof56.livejournal.com]

Continued from Part 2

Napoleon had been very pleased by how neatly he had roped Illya and Faustina into the Twister Tournament. Now he was having second thoughts.

Since she’d been transferred to New York, Faustina had repeatedly turned down his dinner invitations, claiming a strict policy of non-fraternization with other Section II agents.

It was galling to see how quickly that conviction had been abandoned since he'd teamed her with Illya. Not just abandoned, but rejected, renounced, and thoroughly repudiated.

( Read more... )

Hmm, it's been a pretty quiet Christmas party...

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

We still don't know what Illya did to make Napoleon chase him earlier at the party....if someone would like to pick up the story where it left off that would be cool?  The story started here.
Where is everyone?

Let's have some music to get people dancing, and make that glitter ball sparkle (before someone steals it?)

Tagging Mrua7's Story...

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Illya knew he'd probably crossed a line with his little 'project', however as an UNCLE agent he had a right to slander the opposition and put his partner in a compromising position similar to the one he would be in playing Twister.

George Dennell had not done a good job of keeping his part of the plan quiet and Napoleon had seen that oversized dart board and the picture behind the bullseye.  It was a unique board to be sure, not entirely true to the pub favorites but it served Kuryakin's purpose well enough.
Now he was hiding from his partner, dart board safely beside him in the Map Room; the room was off limits for the party and therefore a perfect location for laying low.

The vaunted Twister game had yet to begin, Illya's partner for the dreaded event not close by enough to help him sneak the dart board into the gymnasium.  Napoleon was hot on his trail, hot under the collar and, well, just generally hot.

Illya waited for what he thought an adequate amount of time before peering out the door, scanning the corridor for any sign of Napoleon.  Satisfied that the coast was indeed clear, he emerged from the Map Room with the dart board tucked beneath his left arm.  As he closed the door behind him a familiar voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Going somewhere tovarisch?" There was ice in that familiar phrase, and as Illya turned to face his irate partner the dart board felt like a thousand pounds of misplaced mischief.

"Oh, hello Napoleon.  I'm heading for the party, the um.. the gymnasium.  Care to join me?  I am most anxious to play your game of Twisted."

"Twister, and you can't wiggle out of this one Kuryakin.  I know what you have there."  Illya feigned ignorance, raising his eyebrows in a questioning expression usually reserved for sympathetic secretaries.

"I beg your pardon, to what are you referring?"  Yeah, very convincing.

Napoleon grabbed the dart board and pulled it away from Illya's grasp, turning it over to better examine the photograph that had been affixed to the surface.

"Seriously?  You had to stoop so low as to..."  And then Napoleon broke out in a guffaw that surprised the Russian with its gusto.  Pleased at this turn of events Illya decided to venture in a little farther.

"Ah, so you do see the humor.  I am so relieved, you know..."

"I should wring your scrawny Russian neck!  This is an infringement of my privacy Illya, a hindrance to my effectiveness at infiltrating THRUSH.  Why, it, it... Damn, it's funny."  More laughter until both men were bent over in near hysterics.