A Drabble By Any Other Name...

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

... Is not Our Drabble, but I guess any Drabble Do Ya when that's what you need.
It's Wednesday, it's time for A Little Drabble Do Ya!

Summer In The City - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

The days were finally cooling off, easing a degree of tension among the employees of the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement.  The air conditioning had been taxed to its limit, at times not cooling off areas of Headquarters.

One spot that seemed to lack cool air was the office of Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin.  The Russian was a man made for colder climates, and the hot New York Summer had been a source of irritation for as many days as he had been home to endure it.

"Hey Illya, tomorrow it will only be eighty-nine."  The blond scowled at the number.  That wasn't relief, it was a tease from an ill tempered master who delighted in dunking his subjects in hot concrete with humidity in the nineties and barely breathable air.

"Doesn't that sound good?  We get a break from the scorchers we've had."

"You call that a break?  We're still hovering around ninety degrees, ten degrees short of one hundred.  I hate hot weather, and right now I hate New York.  I long for a cold winter."

Five months later…

"I hate cold weather. It's your fault you know."

Illya smiled at his partner.

"Pozhaluysta"

A triple drabble~ for A Little Drabble do Ya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

This is actually one I wrote and posted quite a few years ago now. When going through my files, I rediscovered it. Enjoy!

Napoleon pulled his communicator from his pocket, contacting headquarters.

“Someone’s following me. I’m going to have to ditch the package.”

“No,” Waverly barked, “You must bring it here at all cost.”

“Understood, Solo out.”

He ducked through the many archways of the medieval Cloisters museum, hoping the fog would hide him from his pursuers. If he could lose them them, once he founs a cab, it would take him just around twenty minutes to make it from northern Manhattan to Midtown.

Napoleon could hear the footstep getting closer; taking a chance, he fired sleep darts into the mist-filled shadows.

Finally silence.

_________________________________

It was just after dawn when Solo make it to headquarters; meeting Illya and the boss in Waverly’s private office.

“Any idea who was following you Mr. Solo?”

“No sir, I took a chance sleep darting them and frankly I was amazed I got them. It was near zero visibility though I knew there was at least two of them.”

Suddenly the lights began to flash and the klaxons sounded.

“Intruder alert,” a voice came over the PA system.

“Security,” Waverly spoke into his microphone.” How many?”

“Two sir, they’ve made it to the main corridor, heading your way.

_________________

Solo and Kuryakin pulled their weapons, heading immediately to cover the door but they were too late.

It opened and two shadowy figures emerged with guns blazing.

Illya went down first, shot in the head. Napoleon was next, fatally wounded as he dropped to the floor.

Waverly had his own gun drawn and fired.

“Click-click.” Nothing. It was empty?

“Not possible!” Waverly barked his helplessness. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Mr. Waverly sir?” Lisa Rogers called his name, shaking his shoulder. “Wake up sir.”

“Wot wot? Hmm, I must have dozed off. Devil if I didn’t have a nightmare.”

Here’s What’s Happening for September on Section VII

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

They Say We're Young and We Don't Know (A Little Triple Drabble Do Ya 8/31)

[colonial-teapot.livejournal.com]

This was the result of a drabble switch with Anamary Armygram.

---

“Surely such a strong girl could climb up and loosen our ropes so we--”

The blonde looked at Napoleon pointedly. “Flattery won’t work. I’m not dumb.”

He sighed. “Sorry. I don’t think clearly when I’m bound and strung up like a ham. What if we reward you for helping us? A pretty dress, maybe? A string of pearls? Lunch at L’Ours Brun…?”

Met with a cold stare, he switched tactics.

“By doing nothing, you’re cooperating with the people who did this.”

“So?”

“You know what I think, Illya?” Napoleon said, looking at his partner. “She wants to help us. She’s just too afraid to climb.”

“I'm not!”

“Are you sure?” Illya asked dully.

That was the last straw. The overalled little girl ferociously strode towards the precariously high jungle gym where some THRUSHies had left the agents hanging upside down. She scaled the rungs and was soon by Napoleon’s feet.

“That’s a girl. Now loosen…”

Napoleon didn’t finish his sentence. Somehow, the girl’s fingers had already quickly undone the knots, and she was now pulling the ropes away. He went flying, landing hard on his chin in the gravel below. A moment later, his partner flopped down beside him. The girl grinned demonically at them through the bars before scampering down and away.

“Are you injured, my friend?” Illya asked.

“Only my ego. Bargaining with a seven-year-old to get out of a THRUSH trap, and then her...er...letting us down doesn’t do us much credit.”

“I suspect it was love at first sight.”

“Come again?”

“I hear it is not uncommon for young girls to assault their crushes as a way of demonstrating affection. The twenty and up crowd certainly seem to enjoy you--why not their younger sisters?”

They exchanged a bewildered look. Illya shook his head.

“Women.”

The Trap - A Little Drabble Do Ya! - Aug 31st

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

The trap had been set, and the lure had been sent. All he had to do was wait for his targets.

Solo and Kuryakin had bested him once too often, and Central were growing tired of his constant failure to capture them. This time though it would be different. This time he had made sure to eliminate any variable which could scupper whole plan.

The sound of two weapons being readied caused him to spin round, and he found himself looking into the faces of his prey.

“I do hope you weren’t waiting for us,” Solo said, with a smile.

.

A Little Drabble Do Ya: Time to Move On

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

Miss Rogers and Mr. Waverly were enjoying a rare drink together after business hours.  It would probably shock some of the HQ staff, but after hours, it was “Lisa” and “Alexander.”

“This wine is exquisite; I love a dry white.”

“Thank you.  Elizabeth discovered this brand one day when she and a girlfriend went to a tasting at a local wine store.  I enjoy it, too.”

They sipped their drinks in silence.  “Lisa,” he said, “have you begun dating?”

“What? No!  Why would I?”

“Baron would not want you to be lonely.  He loved you very much.”*

“I know, Alexander.”

*ref. my Dinner and a Tale story, “Lisa Rogers.”

Salt - A Little Drabble Do Ya!

[anamaryarmygram.livejournal.com]

Note: Drabble and a half, from a prompt switch with colonial_teapot.

---

Mr. Waverly excused himself, and Napoleon finally spoke. “There's no other way,” he said. “No restaurant is secure enough. Mrs. Waverly is out of town. And his club is still under evacuation.”

Illya frowned. “Gas leak, right?”

“Well, that's what they said. And this meeting won't wait till after dinner time.”

They passed through the dining room of the Waverlys' Connecticut home, then into a small kitchen with pale yellow cabinetry. Napoleon grabbed a pink-flowered apron off a hook near the door.

The Russian looked over at his partner. “When you told him dinner was taken care of, you meant…”

“No need to get fancy,” Napoleon said, handing the apron to Illya. “No aspic, no soufflé, nothing like that.”

With a smile, he left.

Illya surveyed the cabinets, inventorying his ingredients. He sighed when he saw the cardboard canister of salt with its cheery slogan: “When it rains – it pours.”