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[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

More About the 50th Anniversary Last Episode Challenge

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

The premise for this challenge is to write the right last episode, the one you envision for a season finale.  What we have is the Seven Wonders of the World.  It is ironic to look back at that now and note the lack of the word 'affair' at the end of the title.  It goes down, perhaps  purposely, as the only episode not designated as an affair.
Stories will post on January 15, 2018, the 50th anniversary of the air date of the last episode.  This challenge is an all genre event.  Word count is a minimum of 5000, and you can include artwork including photos, photo manips and illustrations.
This challenge is being hosted by section7mfu, but will post on AO3 in the collections category.  I will post more details later.
We haven't had a big, fandom wide event since the 50th Mini Bang, and I'm hoping we can come together again to pay homage to the anniversary of The End.  Of course we all know and have contributed to making sure the Man from U.N.C.L.E.  has never truly ended, and this is one more opportunity to write the script for how each of us thinks it should have happened.
I hope you'll join in and help celebrate what turned out to be the beginning of what st_crispins tells us is the first tv fandom on record, and certainly the longest running.
Let's keep things rolling... Action!

"This is the life" For A Little Drabble Do Ya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

A double drabble:

It was a sultry, firefly filled evening as Solo and Kuryakin sat out in the backyard of the safehouse in which they’d taken up residence. Their car was in need of repair and since there was no urgency in returning to New York, Waverly approved their stay.

Rather than a hotel, the unoccupied house would be more cost effective, much to the approval of Accounting.

After taking a taxi to a small grocery store for some supplies, the partners headed home and settled in, barbecuing burgers and kabobs outside on the grill.

Laying in a pair chaise lounges, they sipped beer to the sounds of chirping crickets.

“Isn’t this the life tovarish?” Napoleon blew a smoke ring from the large cigar he was smoking.

“If you call perspiring while being bitten by mosquitos the life, then your standards have been lowered.”

Napoleon clicked his tongue.”I meant the peace and quiet, as well as the fact that no one is trying to kill us.”

“Oh, then in that case I do agree...this is the life,” Illya swallowed the last of his beer. “In the meantime I am going inside to escape the blood sucking bugs.”

“Suit yourself tovarisch.”

Wild cat pt. 1: Wildcat among the bluebells

[hypatia_66]

Wildcat among the bluebells


Chapter 1. 

It was time to get back. I stopped to look once more at the view before starting to make my way down the track and into the beech wood again. The sun was still high in the sky, and shone through the bright new leaves, their brilliant green competing with the glow of the bluebells on the floor of the wood. The warmth of the afternoon had brought out their intoxicating scent.

There was no-one about – at least not now. I thought I had heard an odd cry earlier; it might have been a bird, or just someone fooling around, but whatever was, nobody had appeared.

As I approached the gate at the edge of the wood, and just where another path joined mine, I heard running feet and turned to see two boys heading towards me, their arms flailing, their mouths agape. I stopped as they came to a skidding halt in front of me, both gabbling frantically.

“Whoa, one at a time, kids. What’s wrong?”

“There’s a man!”

“He’s bleeding!”

“He’s hurt bad – he can’t talk – he won’t wake up!”

( Read more... )

Wild cat p. 1: Wild cat among the bluebells

[hypatia-66.livejournal.com]

http://section7mfu.dreamwidth.org/2185779.html

Like a flower in the sun

[hypatia_66]

The terrible sound of explosions died away, leaving smoke and flames around and inside the house; the bodies of several people could be seen strewn about the site, including, appallingly, those caught in crossfire. The two agents, dressed for the operation in camouflage, emerged from their place of concealment and approached the building warily, weapons in hand.

Only one part, the far end, was on fire. Carefully avoiding two bodies, they climbed the steps to the slightly open front door, and still wary, pushed it open and entered. The hallway was clear of smoke, so far; they moved on, glancing into a sitting room – empty. Ahead was a kitchen; through the open door they could see a hob, and cupboards.

The man leading stepped over the threshold and stopped suddenly, with a little intake of breath; his partner bumping into him, looked beyond him and saw what had startled him so much.

It was a child. Sitting on the floor, staring, her eyes vacant, her face grey; unmoving, unblinking, paralysed with shock.

“Jesus... Poor little kid…” Dumbfounded, they looked at each other. “Hell, I think I know who those people outside must be. What is she, about two? What do we do?” The child seemed unaware of them. “We can’t leave her, we’ll have to take her with us.”

( Read more... )

Duplicate posting of "Like a flower in the sun"

[hypatia_66]

Apologies for a second posting of this story. I wanted to delete the link to LJ and couldn't work out how to. Instruction in these dark arts would be much appreciated...

Visitors - A Little Drabble Do Ya! - August 16th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Illya entered Napoleon’s apartment, and called out his presence. The American had ‘done a Kuryakin’ and escaped from medical earlier than he should. Illya asked how it was okay for Solo, and not him.

“My doctor allowed me to leave on the proviso I agree to having people check on me three times a day.”

“And who will be doing that?”

“Well, today, Harriet is coming at ten, Marie at three, and Joan at eight. Tomorrow it will be . . .”

Illya held up his hand to stop him and wondered just how many women would be visiting Napoleon.

.