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section7mfu2013-06-27 08:56 pm
glennagirl.livejournal.com) wrote in section7mfu2013-06-27 08:56 pm
Entry tags:
Don't Go Alone - Song Story
The prompt
~~~~~:
In the midst of blaring horns and angry shouts from taxi drivers and pedestrians, a blond man dressed in black lay sprawled on the pavement at the center of the mayhem that was Downtown Manhattan. A lone policeman was on the scene; a rookie cop who had never seen a man bleeding was now expected to restore order and save a life. It was a daunting initiation into his chosen profession.
The only thing of note about the victim was his longer than normal hair, something still out of the ordinary to most people, and certainly to someone in law enforcement. The young cop wondered if that was the reason for the attack; a lack of tolerance for a beatnik, if that’s what the man was.
Officer Dan O’Reilly had gone through his victim’s pockets and found a business card identifying him as an employee of a New York import company. Dispatch would make the call for him and hopefully someone would be at the hospital to meet him. All O’Reilly had to do now was wait for the ambulance and try to keep Yellow Cabs from running over both him and the victim.
Napoleon Solo was delegated to go to the hospital and deal with things there. He was shocked at the news of what appeared to be a random shooting. Of course, no one in UNCLE would accept that account. There was no such thing as random in the world of this elite law enforcement agency. No, this had been a calculated attack on one of their own. Solo made excellent time getting to the downtown hospital, his apprehension matched only by a professionalism that would not allow the top agent to be swayed by personal feelings.
Finding his way to the emergency room was a matter of following the loudest wails and shouts for action. This was a place not unlike his own headquarters’ medical facility; the need for quick acting physicians and nurses never ceased.
Standing there by the man on the gurney was his partner, Illya Kuryakin. Napoleon hadn’t expected to find him there. “Illya? How did you know? You aren’t even supposed to be in New York.”
The blond turned towards the familiar voice, his eyes hooded with concern. “Wanda called me. She was concerned about April’s reaction, and thought it would be better if both of us were here, just in case …’ Illya turned back to look at the victim before continuing. “ I got in on an earlier flight and called in when I landed. That’s when Wanda told me about Mark.”
Napoleon was nodding at the narrative and dreading the arrival of Slate’s partner. April was as good an agent as any, but the emotional impact of losing a partner was hard on even the most senior members of the U.N.C.L.E. April was hardly senior, and she was very close to her British partner, Mark Slate.
“I’ll head her off. Will you stay here with Mark?” Illya nodded. “Of course. Just take care of April when she arrives. The doctor said the sedative should be wearing off soon.”
Napoleon headed out to the waiting area, every nerve on edge as he anticipated the redheaded agent.
“Napoleon! Where is he, Napoleon? Where’s Mark? Have you seen him yet?” April’s words came out in a torrent, her face flushed with the heat of a ninety-degree New York day and concern for her fallen friend. Napoleon tried to intercept her as she headed towards the area she assumed held Mark.
“April, slow down.’ Napoleon held her arm and slowed down her progress just enough to have a conversation. “He’s going to be fine, the bullet didn’t hit anything vital. Illya is in with him, he’s safe. Okay?”
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, April nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, okay. I’m fine. Let’s go see Mark.”
Solo escorted his agent down the short hallway to where a curtain separated exam areas from casual observers. As they approached the curtain shielding Mark they could hear Illya speaking, his voice low and soothing. April held back a sob of relief when she heard Mark reply. She pulled back the curtain and put on her best smile.
“Oh Mark! Darling, look at you. I thought I told you stay clear of stray bullets.” She ended that with a tisking sound, hopeful that she had hidden the sickening fear that had assaulted her just moments before.
The British agent’s upper body was wrapped in gauze, his shoulder sporting a red stain where some bleeding was still persisting. He smiled at his partner and her silly attempt at cheerfulness.
“Always giving me good advice, luv. I’ll try and heed it better next time.”
April came in close enough to plant a kiss on the blond’s cheek. “What do you mean, next time? Darling Mark, you better not have a next time or I’ll shoot you myself.”
Illya and Napoleon decided to excuse themselves at the obvious indication that Mark would recover and April was going to survive as well. They heard the last few words as they headed towards the waiting room.
“Right-o luv, that’s the last time I go downtown alone looking for some fun. I’ll be sure and take you along for protection.” April laughed at her Brit. Damned straight she’d protect him, just like he had her back. Partners, everywhere they went; even downtown.
~~~~~:
In the midst of blaring horns and angry shouts from taxi drivers and pedestrians, a blond man dressed in black lay sprawled on the pavement at the center of the mayhem that was Downtown Manhattan. A lone policeman was on the scene; a rookie cop who had never seen a man bleeding was now expected to restore order and save a life. It was a daunting initiation into his chosen profession.
The only thing of note about the victim was his longer than normal hair, something still out of the ordinary to most people, and certainly to someone in law enforcement. The young cop wondered if that was the reason for the attack; a lack of tolerance for a beatnik, if that’s what the man was.
Officer Dan O’Reilly had gone through his victim’s pockets and found a business card identifying him as an employee of a New York import company. Dispatch would make the call for him and hopefully someone would be at the hospital to meet him. All O’Reilly had to do now was wait for the ambulance and try to keep Yellow Cabs from running over both him and the victim.
Napoleon Solo was delegated to go to the hospital and deal with things there. He was shocked at the news of what appeared to be a random shooting. Of course, no one in UNCLE would accept that account. There was no such thing as random in the world of this elite law enforcement agency. No, this had been a calculated attack on one of their own. Solo made excellent time getting to the downtown hospital, his apprehension matched only by a professionalism that would not allow the top agent to be swayed by personal feelings.
Finding his way to the emergency room was a matter of following the loudest wails and shouts for action. This was a place not unlike his own headquarters’ medical facility; the need for quick acting physicians and nurses never ceased.
Standing there by the man on the gurney was his partner, Illya Kuryakin. Napoleon hadn’t expected to find him there. “Illya? How did you know? You aren’t even supposed to be in New York.”
The blond turned towards the familiar voice, his eyes hooded with concern. “Wanda called me. She was concerned about April’s reaction, and thought it would be better if both of us were here, just in case …’ Illya turned back to look at the victim before continuing. “ I got in on an earlier flight and called in when I landed. That’s when Wanda told me about Mark.”
Napoleon was nodding at the narrative and dreading the arrival of Slate’s partner. April was as good an agent as any, but the emotional impact of losing a partner was hard on even the most senior members of the U.N.C.L.E. April was hardly senior, and she was very close to her British partner, Mark Slate.
“I’ll head her off. Will you stay here with Mark?” Illya nodded. “Of course. Just take care of April when she arrives. The doctor said the sedative should be wearing off soon.”
Napoleon headed out to the waiting area, every nerve on edge as he anticipated the redheaded agent.
“Napoleon! Where is he, Napoleon? Where’s Mark? Have you seen him yet?” April’s words came out in a torrent, her face flushed with the heat of a ninety-degree New York day and concern for her fallen friend. Napoleon tried to intercept her as she headed towards the area she assumed held Mark.
“April, slow down.’ Napoleon held her arm and slowed down her progress just enough to have a conversation. “He’s going to be fine, the bullet didn’t hit anything vital. Illya is in with him, he’s safe. Okay?”
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, April nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, okay. I’m fine. Let’s go see Mark.”
Solo escorted his agent down the short hallway to where a curtain separated exam areas from casual observers. As they approached the curtain shielding Mark they could hear Illya speaking, his voice low and soothing. April held back a sob of relief when she heard Mark reply. She pulled back the curtain and put on her best smile.
“Oh Mark! Darling, look at you. I thought I told you stay clear of stray bullets.” She ended that with a tisking sound, hopeful that she had hidden the sickening fear that had assaulted her just moments before.
The British agent’s upper body was wrapped in gauze, his shoulder sporting a red stain where some bleeding was still persisting. He smiled at his partner and her silly attempt at cheerfulness.
“Always giving me good advice, luv. I’ll try and heed it better next time.”
April came in close enough to plant a kiss on the blond’s cheek. “What do you mean, next time? Darling Mark, you better not have a next time or I’ll shoot you myself.”
Illya and Napoleon decided to excuse themselves at the obvious indication that Mark would recover and April was going to survive as well. They heard the last few words as they headed towards the waiting room.
“Right-o luv, that’s the last time I go downtown alone looking for some fun. I’ll be sure and take you along for protection.” April laughed at her Brit. Damned straight she’d protect him, just like he had her back. Partners, everywhere they went; even downtown.
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April and Mark have some interesting and cute interaction. I've been wondering whether to try their show; sometimes campy amuses me.
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