A little Drabble do Ya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Glenna's on the go today and asked me to post a blurb for her.

It's Wednesday, time to dribble out some drabbles.

100 words= a single drabble
200= a double drabble.

 So drabble away cousins!

please use the tags: a little drabble do ya and drabbles.

"The Ruse" for April is about April Dancer

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I wrote this story not too long ago, but I figured I'd repost it for the April event. This is gen-mature for sexual references.

Click on the Pic to take you to AO3:

The Breach of Promise Affair - Ch. 14

[ssclassof56.livejournal.com]

“Son of a bitch.”

“What was that, Mr. Kuryakin?”

Illya looked over the top of his glasses at his Chief. “Excuse me, sir. It is here in the report.”

“Ah, yes,” Waverly said. “Donald Marsden’s last words.”

“At least according to Miss Pemberley,” Illya responded quietly.

The image takes you to AO3.

In Celebration of April: Queen's Knight

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

Click on image to go to AO3.  I wrote this for a Picfic Challenge in 2014.

"Hello Napoleon" for A little Drabble do ya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

“Napoleon where are you?” April called out as she walked into the empty office.

“Down here,” he moaned from behind his desk.

She stepped forward, peeking over it. “Why on earth are you on the floor?”

The CEA looked rather sheepish as he scrunched up his face. “I um...errrr, threw out my back.”

“And how...?”

“Bent over and sneezed, that’s how.”

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

“And have Illya know; he’d never let me live it down.”

“Darling I’m afraid the cat’s out of the bag…”

“Hello Napoleon.” Kuryakin was standing right behind April Dancer the entire time.

Black and White - A Little Drabble Do Ya! -April 17th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Nothing in life was entirely black or white.

Illya Kuryakin had spent far too long operating in a shadowy world to think of life as being anything other than many shades of grey. Nothing would ever be clear cut in international espionage business. It was a world of secrets and lies, and of cloaks and daggers. Trust was a rare commodity and, even within a strong bond, skeletons could still be buried.

Nothing in life was entirely black or white; with one exception. If it came down to his life, or that of an innocent, his would always be forfeit.

.