Snapshots~ "Something as simple as a grilled cheese sandwich and chicken soup..."

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

                                         

The tea kettle whistled steadily, calling the Russian’s attention as he slapped some cheese between two slices of bread and tossed it into a frying pan to make a grilled cheese sandwich for himself.

A pot of Campbells chicken noodle soup was heating in a small pot on the next burner over on the stove.

He stopped for a moment, picking up the kettle and pouring the steeping water into a mug containing Ovaltine, and as an afterthought, he pulled a bag of mini-marshmallows from one of the kitchen cabinets, adding some to his hot beverage.

Illya lifted the mug, letting the hot vapors from it waft to his nose, allowing him to sniff it before swallowing a mouthful of his malt-chocolate treat.

He lifted the sandwich when it was ready with a spatula, slicing it in half and scooped a ladleful of the soup into his new white bowl.  His crockery was courtesy of a shopping trip with Napoleon, who had insisted he get rid of his thriftshop dishes and get a matching set from Bamberger’s department store.  Illya had to admit, though they were plain white, he liked them. Somehow they gave him a feeling of permanence, something he had not felt in a very long time, not since he was a child.

His life back in the Soviet Union had not allowed for personal  possessions. The government seemed to want it that way...what one did not have, one did not miss. It was the status quo for the people, but he soon learned there were the privledged who still had all they wanted….

Having nothing gave him no sense of belonging, and he supposed that worked out well enough as he moved from assignment to assignment.  Sometimes he had an apartment he shared with others, mostly in the early days when his cover was that of a student. He owned nothing there except his blanket, a few books, and clothing...what little there was of it.

Though Illya’s mind drifted to one thing, one indulgence he’d let himself have…one time he’d bought a Petrushka doll, a puppet acutally.  He’d stumbled upon it and lots of other things being sold illegally around Christmas. *

As an operative of GRU, he should have reported the sellers, but instead his eyes were drawn to the red doll. It reminded him of one his babushka had when he was a child. In a sentimental moment he purchased the puppet with his last ruble. So what if he went hungry a little longer...he was always hungry, as even there was food, it was never enough.  He always managed to scrounge up meals, sometimes lying and cheating to get himself some free food. Survival forced him into doing things he was not proud of...

Illya had that puppet with him now, tucked away in a cardboard box in his bedroom closet, along with a few other mementos… He reminded himself to get them out, but not right now.  At the moment his meal was his focus. It was served on his own crockery, food he did not have to share with anyone...that was like a bit heaven.

Kuryakin freed himself of his reverie and placed it all on a tray, carrying it to his coffee table, where a copy of yesterday’s New York Times awaited him.  It was good to relax and catch up on life in the city sometimes.  He too often buried his nose in a scientific journal, though U.N.C.L.E. kept him informed well enough with world events.

It was a cold day, with the temperature in the twenties, a typical winter day in New York and after lunch, if the didn’t take a nap first, he’d bundle himself up... go to Central Park, enjoy some fresh air and a peaceful walk, though snow was predicted. It didn't matter, snowfall here was nothing compared to home.

Steam and the mouth-watering smell from the chicken broth wafted up from the bowl,  but just as he was about to swallow his first spoonful of soup, there was a knock at his door. He sighed, recognizing his partner’s code.

Napoleon let himself in, turning off the alarm instead of resetting it.

“Bad news chum, “ he said eyeing Illya’s lunch.”We need to report to headquarters...the master calls.”

“Tsk,” the Russian clicked his tongue, looking longingly at his meal.

Napoleon saw the mask of disappointment on his partner’s usually placid face. Illya did love his food, and now to have to forego something he'd actually made for himself was a shame, and that made the American have a change of heart.  They had time...

“Okay go ahead and eat your lunch, I think Waverly can wait for few  minutes.”  Solo looked out the window, noting that is was starting to snow heavily. “We can blame it on the weather,” he snickered.

“Thank you,” Illya flashed his shy smile, appreciative of the gesture. “There is more soup on the stove, if you would care to join me.” This time he could offer to share and not be forced to do so...it was a pleasant feeling, somehow deeply satisfying.

“Chicken soup?”

“But of course...” that brought a smile to his lips.

“Thanks, don’t mind if I do.” Napoleon grinned as he headed to the kitchen.

Napoleon sat beside his partner on the sofa, slurping up spoonfuls of soup, jokingly like a little kid.

Illya chuckled, placing a napkin in front of his partner and giving him half his sandwich.

“No no, that’s your lunch,” he refused.

“And it is mine to share, “Illya insisted.

“Whatever you want buddy,” he relented, taking a bite of it.” Mmm, good. You make a mean grilled cheese tovarisch. Tell you what, I’ll buy you another one at the commissary after we’re done with the Old Man.”

Illya nodded his approval on that as he finished his lunch.

He was never one to refuse a free meal...old habits die hard.


* ref "Petrushka~ published in Kuryakin files #31

Comments

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

Did he share the malt chocolate with marshmallow? (I love Ovomaltine and I'll try with marshmallows!!!!)
Lovely scene, my friend!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I think not. When it comes to his chocolate Illya's a little greedy. Funny how they changed the name here to Ovaltine instead of keeping the original Ovalmatine? I haven't had it in a long time, wonder if they have a suger-free version. sigh.

Thanks for the comment and glad you enoyed this. Big Hug!

[duckys-lady.livejournal.com]

What a lovely snapshot! Now I must have a grilled cheese sandwich and some chicken soup. I don't think I have chicken noodle and I am iced in, but I should have chicken with rice. :-)

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I love it! You know how many times that's happened to me? Someone writes about something delicious in a story and all I do is crave it. Right now we have about an inch of snow and the roads are very treacherous.

I think I'll be having soup and a sandwich for dinner myself.

Thanks for commenting and glad you enjoyed the story and the menu. Bon appetite!

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

The joys of sharing when it comes from the heart. Thank you for not making him eat tomato soup with his grilled cheese; I know it's popular but not something I can fathom.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Hahahhaa! I'm not a fan of tomato soup either....stuck with canon on this one. Illya (and Napoleon) with their chicken noodle soup.

thanks for the comment!

Newsletter for Sunday, December 15

[livejournal.livejournal.com]

User kanders07 referenced to your post from Newsletter for Sunday, December 15 (http://mfu-weekly.livejournal.com/193697.html) saying: [...] by Fiction: New Gen: "Something as simple as a grilled cheese sandwich and chicken soup..." [...]

Re: Newsletter for Sunday, December 15

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thanks!