http://mrua7.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] section7mfu2019-03-07 11:00 am

The ABC Affair Challenge 2019- B is for Barkus

Illya continued to follow after his partner after Napoleon decided to head back to their hotel to drop off his newest expensive acquisition of a pair of alligator shoes.


Kuryakin wasn’t in a very good mood after having to shell out the cash to pay for said shoes since his partner had his wallet stolen.


As they worked their way through the crowds of Mardi Gras revelers they encountered yet another parade, this one was run by the Mystic Krewe of Barkus, and it was making Illya a bit nervous.


The Krewe of Barkus’ parade consisted of dogs costumed according to a central parade theme. This year it was apparently ‘Spies’ as every dog being walked or sitting on the floats being pulled by tractors were dressed in black sequined suit jackets with white shirts and black ties as well as some sporting dark glasses.  It was apparently making fun of the more traditional New Orleans Mardi Gras parades.


“Hey look tovarisch,” Napoleon grinned.”Your kind of...well, they’re dressed like you. Maybe you’re related?”


“Are you inferring that I am some sort of dog?” Illya wasn’t happy at all. He was fighting the impulse to run away as he had a deeply ingrained fear of dogs that went back to his childhood in Kyiv.


While he was fending for himself as a youngster in the ruins of the city, just trying to survive during the Nazi occupation, packs of starving wild dogs would often attack and kill anyone unable to defend themselves.


Illya was terrified of them, in spite of the fact that he’d forced himself to go on the offensive and hunt some of the dogs. Their meat made a good meal.* Still, the old fear never left him. His training in the Soviet Union, having to fend off attacking dogs didn’t help either.


Napoleon could see the color draining from Illya’s pale face, if that was even possible. He knew of his partners phobia when it came to dogs.


“Don’t worry tovarisch, I won’t let them get you,” he whispered. “Come on, let’s go this way. We can circumvent the parade and get back to the hotel.”


Illya squared his shoulders, trying not to let the presence of the dogs get to him, or at least give the appearance that they weren’t. He didn’t do so well when a great Dane charged him.  The beast put his front paws on the Russian’s shoulders and pinned him against a lamp pole.


Kuryakin’s eyes widened in fear as he grimaced. He was reaching for a switchblade hidden in his suit jacket when the owner, a petite blonde also dressed in a black suit and tie pulled on the leash.


“Down Mister Biggles, get down now!”


The dog obeyed, much to Illya’s relief.


“Madam, you should take better care in controlling your...beast.”


“He was just saying hello, he didn’t mean any harm and he’s not a beast. He’s a purebred Great Dane and his name is Mister Theodore Bigglesworth!” She turned her nose in the air with a huff as she walked away with her dog in tow.


“You okay?”Napoleon asked.


“Fine, I am fine, though that creature was seconds away from me slicing its jugular with my switchblade.”

“I think you need a drink,” Napoleon said.


“I am in full agreement my friend.”


The agents quickly crossed the street before the next float full of dogs approached.


Covered in streamers and colorful Mardi Gras beads, they ducked into a corner bar and occupied a couple stools.


“What’s your poison fellas,” the barman asked.


“I’ll take a scotch on the rocks and my friend will have a vodka straight up...make that a double.”


“Illya, you need to get over your fear of dogs.”


“It has plagued me my entire life and is not something that is easily brushed aside. Surely you can understand that since you have a fear of open water?”


“You’re right.” Napoleon lowered his head.


The drinks were set in front of them and both men raised their glasses.


“Here’s to fear,”Napoleon said.”May it never get the better of us.”


“À votre santé,” Illya responded.



*À votre santé- cheers


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