Anything to Declare? - A Little (Double) Drabble Do Ya!

[ssclassof56.livejournal.com]

Napoleon hurriedly finished relaying his report to Mr. Waverly.

“Would you repeat that last part, Mr. Solo? About Mr. Kuryakin and Miss Pemberley.”

“Ah, Illya and Faustina may somewhat, possibly, be married.”

“Less prevarication, if you please. One either is or is not married.”

“According to the laws of Ingolstein, sir, they are. Apparently simply declaring yourselves to be husband and wife is legally binding. They should probably warn people about that in the tourist brochures.”

“No doubt they should, but how does that relate to my agents?”

“Their cover was a pair of honeymooners, and registering at an inn as Mr. and Mrs. Kuryakin counts as a declaration. I've met with the Grand Duchess. She and Artie will try to expedite matters, but an annulment is still a long process.”

“How long, Mr. Solo?”

“The couple has to reside in Ingolstein while the civil and ecclesiastical courts hear the case.”

“How long?”

“Six months minimum.”

“Good heavens. The three of you had better return to New York immediately and let Legal sort out this mess. And watch what you say to any young ladies, Mr. Solo, until you are safely outside the duchy. We don't need two marriages to undo.”

“Point taken, sir. Mum’s the word.”

Life Today - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

A Little Double Drabble Do Ya...
....................................................

The clinking of glasses made a sound like wind chimes on a breezy day.  The mood was festive and still reflective, many of the people in attendance remembering those whose lives had been sacrificed for the cause.

"I would like to propose a toast to our fallen comrades.  May we never forget them."  Napoleon Solo raised his glass, this time in honor of those who would never again celebrate the season of Peace on Earth and Goodwill towards men.

After a round of agreement and more ringing glass, he turned to see his partner in deep concentration.

"Illya, are you all right?"  The blond nodded, his eyes still on a distant place as his heart returned to the last Christmas he had spent with his family.  The glow of a fire warding off the chill in their small apartment was a reward for his father's place in the symphony orchestra.  Little did they know on Christmas that the vicious purge of Russia's artistic community would soon deprive him of life as he knew it.

Illya shook off the memory, returning to the question posed by his friend.

"Yes, I am very well.  Happy Christmas Napoleon."

Gratitude for one more year.

For Lindafishes8..."Every rose has its thorn"

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

A MFU story inspired by Sting's "Desert Rose"

He first saw her in the busy bazaar at Sidi Ferruch, the Algerian town where he’d sequestered himself from the world while on his extended vacation.

After recuperating from serious injuries received during his last assignment,  he decided to use some of his time off that had been building up; feeling the need to get away from the real world to relax and get his head on straight. He’d been hurt just as seriously on missions before this, but something clicked inside him, something felt broken...not in the physical sense but within his soul.

.

The smell of spices and foods called to his senses as he spied an exotic woman wandering along the colorful stalls, filled with a myriad of goods being offered for sale by the vendors; anything from silks to fruit, candied dates, wine and pottery... just to name a few.

( Read more... )