http://alynwa.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] alynwa.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] section7mfu2013-07-23 10:38 am
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Picfic Tuesday: Reflective Sail

sailboat

Well, this is a sweet little getaway vehicle. I haven’t enjoyed any escape as much as I’m enjoying this one. Napoleon was at the helm of a twenty – six foot sailboat; sails unfurled as they moved silently across the water toward their rendezvous with the yacht that would take them to Nassau, Bahamas where he and Illya would catch a flight back to New York.

Thirteen hours ago, the pair were strung up in a room in a satrap on one of the uninhabited islands that are dotted around the Bahamas. UNCLE intelligence had pinpointed some radio frequency jamming signals coming from there that seemed to be interfering with CIA and KGB satellite transmissions which, of course, left their governments blaming each other and threatening military retaliation. The tensions between the two countries were escalating when they agreed to contact UNCLE and have them prove or disprove what the truth was.

Napoleon and Illya managed to access the island and permanently disable the jamming device before they were cornered and captured by THRUSH goons. Fortunately, the “Solo Luck” reared its, in this case, blonde head in the form of Lucia Moltisanti, the disenchanted girlfriend of their captor, Professor Rodrigo. Napoleon had promised to take her away and give her a new life if only she would release him and the Russian.

As he tacked to changed direction, he snorted at the memory. She wanted me to leave Illya to his fate while we sailed away. When she promised me the best sex of my life, I told her I agreed. Illya gave me a look that if looks could kill, I would have been dead when she returned! At two AM, she sneaked my clothing, communicator and gun to me. After she cut me down and I took possession of everything, I told her I wouldn’t leave Illya and the sex would have to wait until we got wherever we were going. She was annoyed, but when Illya thanked her with a kiss of his own and allowed her to glide her hands across his naked body with the promise of more later, she came around fairly quickly. Especially since she got to watch Illya walk naked for a little while before he overpowered a guard who was taking a cigarette break at the wrong time.

He sighed. This would have been the perfect getaway. Lucia led the way to this boat, the tide was going out so we didn’t have to start the engine; we could just drift away and then raise the sails. All we had to do was secure the jamming device, steal Rodrigo’s notes and get to the boat. Piece of cake! Until we walked into the room where the device was located and Rodrigo stepped from behind the drapes holding a Luger.

Forcing Illya to drop the THRUSH rifle he had acquired from the guard he yelled at Lucia “You faithless bitch! You betrayed me and THRUSH for what? I loved you!” He was a squat, round, horrible looking, little balding man with a hawkish nose and splotchy skin.

“You disgust me!” Lucia had screamed, “I want to throw up when you touch me! You promised me the world and then stick me in the middle of nowhere! I’m leaving you forever!”

“Yes, you are,” he intoned coldly before turning the gun in her direction and shooting her pointblank in the chest. In the moment that he took his eyes off me, I pulled my P – 38 and killed him.

“I’ll get the device, you grab the papers,” I said to Illya. Fortunately, we didn’t encounter anyone else. We got to the dock, untied the boat, drifted and here we are. Napoleon looked off into the distance and saw a ship on the horizon. Quickly assembling his communicator he said, “Open Channel S.”

A familiar voice came through. “Oi, Napoleon!” Mark responded, “Where are you, mate?”

“I think I’m south of you. Make something reflect the sun.”

“April’s bouncing the sun off a metal tray.”

“Yep, I see it. I’m heading your way. Stay there; I’m enjoying sailing this thing.”

“Righto, we’ll have some cold drinks and food for you when you get ’ere. Slate out.”

Napoleon put his communicator back in his jacket pocket. “Oh, Illya!” he called in a singsong voice, “We’ll be meeting up with Mark and April in about thirty to forty minutes. Time to come back to life!”

A groan came from below deck followed moments later by blond hair topping a greenish – grey face. He raised his head so he could look forward, saw the yacht in the distance and settled back down on the ladder. “I sincerely hope they have sunscreen.”

“I’m sure they do, Partner Mine. Mark said they have food and drinks for us, too.”

If possible, the Russian turned even greener. “The only thing I want beyond sunscreen is Dramamine. Lots and lots of Dramamine.”

“Listen, I know you hate to look weak in front of others, so go below and splash some water on your face while I call Mr. Waverly before our countries go to war. Then come back up here, sit in the shade and look at the horizon; it should help ease your seasickness.”

“I will do that. Thank you for not making fun of me.”

Napoleon shook his head. “I would never make fun of you when you are obviously so miserable. Besides, I value my teeth and you would get me once we’re on land.”

As Illya went back below he muttered, “You do know me well.”

[identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com 2013-07-23 02:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Hey, the Bahamas are a hot region ;) I chose it as well. And the description of Illya and the naked thing, well... sigh... That makes my morning a little brighter.

[identity profile] injj.livejournal.com 2013-07-23 04:19 pm (UTC)(link)
To draw a picture of naked Illya from a boat picture challenge? Oh, that's a talent:))

Thanks for you story:)

[identity profile] jkkitty.livejournal.com 2013-07-23 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
oh yes Napoleon knows Illya well. Can imagine Napoleon naked also--oh yea.

[identity profile] carabele.livejournal.com 2013-07-23 07:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Very nicely put-together story. Very canon-esque. (That a word? If not, I just made it up! [chuckle])

[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com 2013-07-23 09:01 pm (UTC)(link)
The worst thing to do when you're seasick is to go below deck, but in Illya's case he was far gone anyway. Grey-ish green, yep, that's pretty much the right color...been there did that, so I could really feel for our Russian.

[identity profile] illyushadarling.livejournal.com 2013-07-23 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Just dye my hair blonde and call me Lucia... up until the dying part, that is. *goes off to practice (in fantasy) running my hands over naked Illya*