A Good Deed Indeed - Picfic Tuesday 07-16

[avrovulcan.livejournal.com]

Illya was strolling down the street of his local neighbourhood, enjoying a rare moment where he could pretend he was just another normal person making the most of the beautiful day, but old habits die hard.

As he made his way towards his apartment block, his senses were on high alert, he never knew who could be a threat, it didn’t even have to be THRUSH, a mugger could be just as dangerous.

Kuryakin was about a block away from his destination when he noticed a young man acting suspiciously, he was dressed in dark clothing, glancing around furtively and generally looking like he could be up to no good.


Suddenly he lashed out at a woman as she passed by and tried to grab her handbag, she valiantly fought to hold on to it, but was gradually losing ground.

Desperate to get the theft over with, the assailant went to hit the lady around the head, but before his hand connected with her flesh, his wrist was grabbed and held firmly.

“I would not do that if I was you,” came a low growl.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?” The attacker spat out.

“This,” Illya said in a quiet and deadly tone.

He twisted the man’s arm up behind his back in a painful hold. And put his other arm around the bag snatcher’s neck in a choke hold.

“I can easily snap your neck right now, so you do not want to upset me. I suggest you release your hold on the lady’s bag immediately.”

“Oww. Okay, okay, whatever you say, just please don’t hurt me, I… I’m sorry.”

“Not so brave now are you? If I hear of any other thefts like this I will come looking for you, and I will find you; and just maybe, I might finish what I started.”

To make his point he moved the attackers arm up a bit more.

“Whatever you say, I won’t do it again. Please let me go, I promise I won’t.”

Illya let go of the young man; now he could see him clearer, Kuryakin noticed he was barely out of his teens and had truly been terrified judging by the darkening stain around the fly of his pants. The Russian hoped that maybe he’d learned a lesson and wouldn’t try anything like that again.

He turned to the woman who stood nearby, still visibly shaken.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I think so,” she smiled nervously, “thank you for helping me.”

“You are most welcome. I am glad I could help.”

“Um… would you mind walking me back home? I think I will feel a little safer with some company.”

“Of course, where do you live?”

“Not far, just the next block.”

She told him her address as they walked along, both discovering they were neighbours, though amazingly, they’d never met before.

Illya escorted her to her apartment’s front door, and making sure she was safe, started to bid her goodbye, but smiling she invited him inside, he accepted graciously.

“You have an unusual accent, Russian isn’t it?”

“Da, you are correct, my name is Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin, please forgive me, I should have introduced myself earlier.”

“As should I,” she smiled, “pleased to meet you Illya Nickovetch. I am Marianne Lawson. Please come in, let me make you a nice cup of tea, yes?”

“Da, thank you, that would be nice,” Illya smiled.

“Please take a seat, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.”

As he sat on the sofa, he was greeted by two cats, one as black as midnight, and a large tabby. The black one jumped up and immediately made herself comfortable on Illya’s lap, purring contentedly as he stroked her, while the other made himself cosy next to the Russian.

As he looked around the small apartment he noticed a lovely Russian tea set sitting on a wicker étagère next to some beautifully hand painted Matryoshka dolls and Khokhloma candle holders.

“Here you are, one nice hot cup of tea,” Marianne handed the steaming beveridge to her guest and placed a jar on the coffee table.

“Ah, I see you know Russians like strawberry jam to sweeten our tea,” Illya smiled as he placed a spoonful into his cup, “I see you also have a few Russian possessions.”

Marianne blushed slightly, not many people knew of her heritage and hadn’t taken much notice of the few treasured items sat in the corner of her room.

“My grandparents were Russian, they came to America in 1863 shortly after the emancipation of the Serfs.”

“I remember learning about that period in our history, they were the Russian equivalent of slaves, though they were not really owned as American slaves were.”

“That is correct, my grandparents worked the land belonging to a nobleman, they were lucky as they were treated quite fairly, but it was still a hard life. When the law was passed and they gained their freedom they had the opportunity to buy a portion of the land they had been working on, but it was at such a high cost and would take the rest of their lives and some of their children’s to pay for it. So instead they decided it was better to make the long and difficult trip to America and try their luck in the ‘decadent west’. The tea set, dolls and candle sticks were the only possessions that survived the journey.”

“I can see why you treasure them. They are very beautiful heirlooms.”

“Yes, they are a link to my past and something to pass into my future.”

They chatted and laughed for a couple of hours, exchanging stories and memories of their families and Mother Russia, Illya as usual seeming to give a lot of information about himself, but actually very little, they both felt very relaxed in each others company. All too soon it came time to part.

“Thank you for the tea, it has been most enjoyable meeting you, I just wish it had been under better circumstances.”

“Yes, and I can’t thank you enough, I hope we will meet more often now we know we live in the same block," Marianne replied.

Illya bid her farewell as he left her small abode and made his way to his own apartment, a grin spreading across his face, oh yes, he would make sure to meet her again and the sooner the better.

A little story dedicated to our very own Marian and her lovely tea set!

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Thank you. What a nice idea, and well carried out, too! Letting Bowie and Luna have walk ons - or sit ons - was an extra good touch.

Also, the mugger perhaps (we can hope) being permanantly frightened straight.