"Blame it on the Kuryakin Luck"~ for A Little Drabble Do Ya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

(A double drabble)

Illya jumped into the driver’s seat of the jeep while Napoleon sat in the passenger side.

“Punch it!” Solo called out as shots rang out..

As they sped down the road Solo noticed a spot of red on his partner’s side that was beginning to grow.

They were well out of gunshot range and he ordered Illya to pull over.

”Illya you’be been hit!”

“I am fine. We need to get far enough away from those thugs as possible, whoever they were. Could we not even eat our lunch in peace at that hamburger spot in the middle of nowhere.”  Illya practically growled. “ How did they find us?”

“And I insist you pull over. There’s blood on your side.”

Kuryakin reached down, at first worried his partner was right, though he felt no pain. His hand came away covered in red and he suddenly licked it, making a face.

“You crazy tovarisch? Pull over!”

“It is catsup from your french fries that went flying when we dove to the floor.”

“Oh? Good news.”

“Yes for once, but we never got to eat our lunch. Why does this always happen to us? Illya complained.

“Blame the Kuryakin luck pal...”

A Simple Request - A Little Drabble Do ya! - March 23rd

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Napoleon paused outside his office door and took a deep breath. The news he had for Illya was not good, and he was loathe to deliver it. The CEA had honestly tried to get a positive decision for Russian’s request. He had flexed the power of his position and had used every ounce of his charm, but it was all for naught. He took another breath and stepped into the office.

“What is the answer?” Illya asked, his voice laden with hope.

“I’m sorry Illya. The commissary refuse to serve Shchi* because they say the smell would drive everyone away.”


*Russian Cabbage Soup.

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