Short Affair - Serendipity Calling

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Prompts: Torrent, Forest Green
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The two men who braved the torrent of rain and wind looked as though they might drop to the ground at any minute.  The taller of the two was hunched over and seemed to be listing to one side, like a boat taking on water.  The blond, hair plastered to his head like a cap of yellow icing, trudged along at a steady pace that belied the conditions.

Looking ahead they each saw their deliverance from the storm; a sturdy looking cabin situated among the pine trees appeared empty, but welcoming nonetheless.

Napoleon yelled above the howling wind at his partner.

"Illya, up ahead…"  The Russian tried to reply but was silenced by the rain that pelted onto his face.  Rather than swallow it he merely upped his cadence, surging ahead of Solo and onto the sheltering porch.

Napoleon was only a step or two behind as he set foot onto the sturdy boards, straightening up at last from his defensive posture against the wind.

"Better.  Now, who's doing the honor of breaking into this little home away from home?"

Illya was already at work, satisfied when the snick of the lock releasing assured him that they were almost rescued from the cold and wet of the storm.

Slivers of moonlight sneaked into the little cabin, illuminating an interior that was spartan by most standards, but welcome in any condition to the two UNCLE agents.  Napoleon spied a fireplace, blessedly supplied with a stack of wood just waiting to be put to its purpose.  He reached for the long matches that were kept in a tall brass urn, thankful that some people maintained places like this, unaware that they were giving aid to men whose lives depended on serendipity as much as careful planning.

"There… we'll have a fire in no time."  Illya returned from his examination of the cabin in time to see his partner squatting next to the fireplace as he placed some kindling beneath two large pieces of wood.

"There is another room in the back, storage from what I can see of it.  This room appears to be all there is otherwise.  There is a kitchen area over there…' Illya pointed towards the right side of the room, indicating where the stove and pantry were located.

"This must a hunting cabin, appropriate given the likelihood that we are still being pursued."

Napoleon thought about that, keenly aware of the pain endured during the brief visit in the satrapy from which they had escaped.

"Hopefully the rain has washed away the trail we were on.  I wouldn't want to encounter anyone else tonight, I'm …"

"Pooped.  I am pooped."  Illya used that term often, a source of amusement to his American partner.

"Is that a Russian term, ILlya?"  The blond smiled, he couldn't explain why that word so accurately defined how he felt at times.

"Yes, and like so many Russian words it is much more expressive than English."

Napoleon started to say something but stopped himself.  He was pooped too, and a good night's sleep might conceivably be had in this cabin.  Maybe.

The partners traded off sleeping and watching for any approaching THRUSH.  By morning each man had enjoyed a few hours of sleep and welcomed the sunrise like a long lost friend.  The rain had ceased, the wind no longer blew, and upon closer examination the pantry yielded the makings of a decent meal.

"Beans for breakfast?  I don't think I've ever had that before."  Napoleon scrunched up his nose at first, but his stomach told him he'd eat whatever was put in front of him.

"The British are quite fond of beans… Heinz if I recall.  Beans and toast for breakfast is not uncommon.  We don't have bread but… Ah! Here is something, soda crackers according to the box."  Illya proceeded to prepare the meal while Napoleon stoked the fire and added more logs.  If THRUSH were in the woods they would no doubt see smoke, but perhaps they weren't there after all.

"I can understand why the crayon box has a color called Forest Green, it's a color all its own…" Napoleon seemed mesmerized by the trees surrounding the cabin.

"It is actually quite beautiful here.  If we weren't in the process of escaping from THRUSH I would enjoy being here a few days.  All right, here's breakfast."

The two sat and enjoyed the food, relishing each little bean for the goodness that it was.  Soon they would be back in New York, safe until the next mission.  For now, a cabin in the woods and a stash of beans and crackers was as good as it got.

Serendipity indeed.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Hey beans and crackers are good! Nice little story...our poor boys soaked to the skin but at least you gave them a safe and warm respite, and they didn't get beat up either.

Serendipity is such a nice word isn't it?

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

It is a nice word, and our agents need a lot of it. Thanks for the comment :D

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

I can confirm that we British do like beans for breakfast. Especially with a Full English :-)

Lovely story. It's nice for them to get a break now and then.

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

I've never been in a hunter's cabin in the forest green woods. It was a fishing cabin on a crystal clear lake but I know that shade of green. You never forget it. Nice story, Glenna.