
Prompts – Gnaw/Powder Blue
Word Count (approx.) – 340
There were many things Illya Kuryakin could have been doing on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. He could have been in a jazz club, or at home reading a scientific journal, or even doing Napoleon’s paper work. All of these would have meant warmth at least. Instead, the Russian was hiding amongst a clump of snow-laden trees, staking-out the house of a known THRUSH head. He usually didn’t allow the cold to bother him, but he’d remembered too late that his partner had borrowed his gloves. His hands were pushed deep into his pockets, but it didn’t ease the gnawing pain in his frozen digits. Pulling one hand out, he peered at it, and briefly wondered which shade of blue that was exactly. He finally settled on powder blue, before plunging it back into the slightly warmer recesses of his coat. It didn’t help that it was getting colder as darkness began to fall, and a chilling fog was starting to form.
Illya had been watching the house for two hours. A bigwig from Central was supposedly on his way, but there had been no sign of him yet. The Russian shivered, and then admonished himself for becoming soft, deciding instead to curse his partner for not returning his gloves. An insistent beeping from his communicator pulled him from his thoughts. Delving into his breast pocket, Illya could barely feel the pen-like device. Assembling it with numb fingers proved impossible. It slipped from his grip, and into the snow at his feet.
“Chyort!” He hissed, stooping down to retrieve it.
The sound of a pistol being cocked froze him in that position. Twisting his head, Illya saw Miles Manning, the owner of the house. He had two goons with him.
“Please straighten yourself up, Mr Kuryakin,” Manning told him, gesturing with his pistol. “You’ll catch your death out here. Why don’t you come in where it’s warm, and catch it there instead. You’re just in time for my annual Christmas party, and I think you’ll make the perfect gift for my special guest.”
To Be Continued.