Arpeggio - Short Affair

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Prompts: Carpet, Green
Word Count: 851
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Two women were shaking their heads as they spoke, the gesturing and expressions indicating a degree of displeasure with the green carpet samples one of them held in her hands.  The two men observing the scene took guesses as to what it was all about, their free time this afternoon due to unusual events in UNCLE Headquarters.

It wasn’t completely free, but it did seem frivolous.  Alexander Waverly had tasked his two top agents to courier fabric swatches from the interior design firm handling his wife’s newest project: redecorating the dining room.  The unusual assignment, a strange designation for what they were doing, was the unlikely result of a slow down in villainous activity that had left the pair of Solo and Kuryakin with more free time on their hands than usual.  The day was already half spent, and they were still waiting for those swatches.

The room they were in was luxurious, the walls papered in a flocked damask pattern the color of pearls, according to Illya Kuryakin. He was explaining how they were reminiscent of a woman’s dress, perhaps a wedding dress.  Napoleon turned to look at his friend with a skewed expression, as though he might have bit into a piece of cloyingly sweet pastry. He literally worked his mouth as he attempted to decipher Kuryakin’s comment.

“What are you saying? And why are you saying it?  We need to go back to work, I think this time off is having a … you’re not yourself.”

Illya took a deep breath, exhaling it a sigh redolent with untold disappointments.  Truth be told, he could see the dress, and the woman who might wear it.  It wasn’t time away from Headquarters that was changing him, it was time with Stacey.

~:

Stacey Chambers was a sweet young thing, perhaps too young and too sweet.  Illya had met her

as he was thumbing through some LPs, looking for a particular recording.  He was pleasantly surprised to be interrupted by a pretty brunette with green eyes and naturally pink cheeks, and lips… He was instantly smitten by her.

“May I help you find something?’ She noticed his expression, slightly confused it seemed.

“I work here, I can help you find what you’re searching for.”  The smile… Illya collected his composure enough to respond.

“Yes, thank you.  I am hoping to find a copy of Soul Blues, by …

“Coleman Hawkins”... they said it in unison.

“Yes, you know him?”  Illya was impressed, not many girls her age would be aware of the jazz musician.  Girl… young woman.  At least he hoped so.  Her expression was mischievous as she replied.

“Well, not personally.’ She winked at him.

“I admit it, I’m a jazz fan.  My father was a musician, and I used to go to his gigs.  I fell in love with jazz listening to those great players.”

“So, do you work here … all of the time?” Stupid thing to say.  He cursed himself in Russian.

“I’m attending Julliard, piano… emphasis on jazz.  I work here part time, to help pay rent.’ She laughed at that, suddenly aware of how intensely blue the man’s eyes were.

“I’m Stacey. Chambers. Stacey Chambers… all one name!” She laughed again, and launched a romance that now had Illya Kuryakin seeing wedding dresses in flocked wallpaper.

~:

Napoleon knew about his friend’s budding romance, and he also knew that Illya had always been incapable of staying with a relationship longer than it took him to remember he was in New York on borrowed time.  The affair with Marion had ended badly, and other attempts were also short lived.  The Russian wasn’t an entirely free agent, and his own sense of ethics and integrity wouldn’t allow him to draw a woman into something he could never fully commit to. 

“Are you still seeing her?” Illya ran his large hands through the shaggy blond hair that identified him as European among so many barbered American men.  He was exotic to most women, slightly irritating to the men who watched those women fall under Illya’s unintentional spell.  Napoleon wondered if Stacey was one of those impressionable women.

“I know that I should not … ‘ Illya thought about it, the words did not reflect his feelings.

“I did not intend to lead her on, or give her false hope about, you know, the future.” Napoleon felt sorry for Illya in that moment.  Neither of them had much hope of ever marrying, their primary focus tended to be on simply surviving each day.  It wouldn’t be fair to … His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a memory.

“I tried to have something substantial with Clara.  I failed.  I chose the job, the mission.  It’s one or the other, it is either commitment to the calling we have to …”

“Save the world?  That’s it, we do it all of the time.  We only fail to save ourselves, my friend.” Illya smiled, a wan and wistful smile that said more than he might be able to express with words.

Napoleon and Illya looked again towards the women, their exasperation with a green carpet had somehow become less amusing to the beleaguered world saving duo.

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

What a good and original fic, moving well and moving the reader. The reference to couture was nice, too.

And this Coleman Hawkins seems just right for Illya.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. It's always there, I think, that sense of loss concerning their personal happiness. And yes, Hawkins would have been a big influence during those years.