Beware the Ides of March

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

A selection from my 'Snapshot'  series on Fanfiction.net posted under Mlaw

                   

Napoleon shivered at what felt like chill wind blew as he and Illya walked down the block, heading towards the entrance to Del Floria's.

"I can't wait for Spring, I'm freezing," he muttered, pulling his lined trench coat tightly about him.

"How can you say that, it is nearly sixty degrees, and quite mild for the middle of March, would you not say?" His partner challenged him.

"Really? It's near sixty? I keep getting the shivers...hope I'm not coming down with something?"

Illya reached over with his hand. "May I?"

"Sure, but I don't feel feverish.'

The Russian placed his hand to Solo's forehead. "No your temperature feels fine."

"You know these shivers and goosebumps actually are making me wonder if I'm having some sort of premonition," Napoleon asked. "You know, as if someone stepped on my grave."

Illya snickered, "Did you know that old saying,'someone stepped on your grave' after shivering, came from an outbreak of small pox in 1804. Shivering, being one of the symptoms meant you might be contracting small pox soon, and then stepping into your grave. Many poems were written back then about this topic."

"Oh joy, now you're telling me I'm coming down with smallpox?" Napoleon half-laughed as he sniffled. "Studying American colloquialisms are you?"

"Well you do always complain when I get them wrong," Illya shrugged as they continued walking. " Then again, tomorrow it will be the Ides of March and you know the..."

"Yes, I know...'beware the Ides of March."

"Did you not just see the movie 'Julius Caesar' on one of your dates? You happened to remark that the actor who played Cassius bore a striking resemblance to you, did you not?"

"No it was Casca...so what does that have to do with the price of tea in China?"

Illya looked perplexed," Why are you asking about Chinese tea?"

Napoleon flashed him one of his very expressive looks as he shook his head.

The Russian paused understanding his partner's stare all too well and thinking for a moment; he made a mental note. "Ah, another of your colloquialisms...I will investigate this one as well."

Napoleon left it at that, as he just didn't feeling like giving an explanation...it was too early in the morning for 'explanations,' and no doubt, his inquisitive partner would figure it out, eventually. Solo's mind turned back to the Ides of March remark.

"Tovarisch, why are you bringing up March 15th?"

"Well we are leaving for Rome in a few hours," Illya remarked. "We will be crossing the international date line and it will be the 15th when we arrive there..."

Solo finally put the pieces of this puzzling conversation together; the chills, his grave being stepped on, him looking like Casca and the Ides of March...

"Then I'll make sure to avoid the Theatre of Pompey," Napoleon said, just before he sneezed.*

"Gesundheit," Illya quickly responded in German," Oh excuse me, perhaps a bit of Latin would be more appropriate...Carpe diem."

"Seize the day?" Napoleon asked, becoming more confused at his partner's increasingly cryptic remarks.

"Yes, the idiomatic translation suits your chilling situation. Enjoy the present day, trusting little to what tomorrow may bring."

"Gee, thanks." Napoleon sneered at the Russian as he turned the handle to door at Del Floria's, and hearing the reassuring tinkle of the brass bell...

.

* the place where Caesar was assassinated

Comments

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

They are my Latin students... and we studied Caesar's life...

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

How appropriate!