It's Happening Again!

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

"A little dabb'll do ya!" for A Little Drabble Do Ya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Kuryakin walked into his office, grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s got you so happy tovarisch?”

“A commercial on the agent lounge television that finally explains why women are drawn to you.”

“Oh really,” Napoleon snickered.

“It was for Brylcreem, which I know you use.”

“Keeps my hair well groomed. Though you probably wouldn’t know about that.”

“Tsk. The commercial insinuates that Brylcreem users will get attention from the ladies. If directions are not followed, using more will cause women to attack you.”

“Darn!” Napoleon snapped his fingers with a chuckle.” My secret’s out. I use two dabs every day.”

One Coin in the Fountain - Pic Fic Tuesday (even though it's Wednesday) - Sept 27th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Click the pic to go to AO3.

A Little Drabble Do Ya, 27 September 2017; 100 words; Such A Waste!

[lilidelafield.livejournal.com]

“Look out!”

Napoleon ducked instinctively at Illya’s shout, and the shot whizzed over his head and smashed into the car window. He fired back and the gunman collapsed. Napoleon blanched at the sight of his partner on the road beside the car, a large sticky red stain spreading across the front of his shirt.

           “Illya!”

He knelt beside him. Illya’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was rapid.

           “Illya, Stay with me!”

Illya opened his eyes, groaned and sat up.

           “Mrs. Waverly’s homemade strawberry jam! What a waste! Do you think if I ask her nicely she’ll give me another?”

A Matter of Pride - A Little Drabble Do Ya! - Sept 27th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

“That didn’t take long,” Napoleon commented as Illya emerged from interrogation.

“Some people do not take as long to break as others,” his partner responded.

Solo couldn’t fail to see the glint of gratification in his partner’s eyes. There was also an aura of pride emanating from the man. He was aware that Illya felt satisfaction when interrogating a Thrush, but there was something different this time.

“What did you do to get him to talk?”

“I merely said four words and they scared him into talking,”

“And what were they?”

The Russian’s chest visibly swelled.

“I am Illya Kuryakin.”

.