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glennagirl.livejournal.com
In a long corridor that led to a grand ballroom, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin walked silently towards an arched doorway that shone from a solid wall of windows beyond. As they approached that light they encountered a young woman dressed in a gown that seemed to float around her body; shades of pale rose was a near match for her bare arms. Napoleon was tempted to speak to her when another woman emerged.
“Is that April?”
Both men stopped in mid step, unsure now if they had misunderstood the mission parameters. April and Mark weren’t scheduled to be part of this mission.
Having heard the approaching footsteps, April turned to see her friends and colleagues. She was in a gown made from silk, so that it rustled slightly as she walked towards them. Her auburn hair was in an updo, and as the other woman turned to watch April, Illya was struck by a similarity between them.
For the rest of the story, follow this... The Trouble In The Ballroom Affair
Writer's Choice — The Vanya Series
Feb. 13th, 2021 10:21 amglennagirl.livejournal.comI happen to have taken some positive moments from The Return Movie. For one, Illya still had it in spades, and I enjoyed every bit of the interaction between him and Napoleon. Admittedly, there wasn't enough of it, but... it still inspired me to write some stories based around what was there.
This is the first in a series of stories related to that movie, the concepts and situations involved. You can access the rest of the stories by following this... House of Vanya.
Not Missing the Dance... Valentine
Feb. 12th, 2021 04:13 pmglennagirl.livejournal.comEarlier today I posted an invitation to everyone for a Valentine's treat. Find a favorite story that gives us some love, either brotherly love or a genuine hubba hubba Het affair. It doesn't need to be graphic or steamy, but love is the key in any story you want to share.
You can find the original post HERE if you missed it. Use the tag valentine day when you post.
To borrow some contemporary terms, we have valentine, gal-entine and pal-entine... your choice. If you have a HET story, please post it in the Map Room; our hubba hubba hub... you know what I mean.
Okay, in the spirit of this little love soiree, I give you this...
To Dance With The Stars
glennagirl.livejournal.comI couldn't resist the theme of Today's Poll that you can find HERE
Getting Colder
The weather was treacherous with a blend of rain and ice coming down, capable of piercing skin if anyone dared go out unprotected.
“Illya, how’re you doing over there?” The Russian had lost a lot of blood from a bullet wound, courtesy of a now defunct THRUSH goon.
“I will live, my friend.”
Short, succinct. Typical.
“Help is on the way, we just need to hang on for about an hour or … so…” Napoleon’s words trailed off as he lost consciousness. He was also losing a lot of blood.
When they woke up in medical, no words were necessary.
From the Archives... Ad Infinitum
Feb. 2nd, 2021 01:06 pmglennagirl.livejournal.com
I was reminded of this story when a comment was left for it on AO3. The story was originally a PicFic entry, and we're going to be starting up PicFic once again.
It was first introduced during our first year as a community, back in 2012. So many good stories came out of that challenge, and in fact, Section VII helped repopulate the MFU category over on ff.net by driving up the numbers of stories there in record time. If you go back and check, the stories nearly doubled due to the entries that originated here, mostly from PicFic challenge stories.
The story today is from 2013, eight years ago. It posted on February 12, 2013, and we've been writing and posting every year for nine years. I hope we can continue on and meet the challenges that will continue to show up here on Section VII.
The Butterfly Effect — Writer's Choice
Jan. 30th, 2021 10:22 amglennagirl.livejournal.comThis story was written as a part of Down The Chimney Affair, a wonderful event that went the way of other casualties of 2020 this past Christmas. Hopefully it will return, it is certainly a highlight of the writing year for MFU.
In the midst of so much disappointment and at times grief, I hope this cheers the reader.
glennagirl.livejournal.com
The Index of Chapters is below. You can find the Epilogue to this grand adventure at the bottom of the page...
It Ain't Over Til It's Over...
The round table was populated once more by the top agents of the Western World, and of course, their Chief. Alexander Waverly could have done without this latest escapade landing squarely in the middle of his Christmas holiday. His wife was highly annoyed by the entire episode, him being out late and vexed by yet another encounter with inexplicably difficult people.
As for the Old Man, he felt satisfied that now, after several grueling days of dealing with the Claibornes and the errant love affair of his agent, the newly incarcerated Collier Adams with the peculiarly seductive Marjorie Claiborne... devil have it, he never would figure out the human condition.
Napoleon and Illya sat side by side at the big table, their fellow agents, Mark Slate and April Dancer, opposite them and also waiting for Waverly to finish his mulling over of things. The pipe was poised for action but, as yet, unlit. There was a certain sense of comfort in the sameness of it, the anticipation but not the certainty that the pipe would be lit, and the smoke would rise to the ceiling.
( Read more... )
A Tight Spot - Writer's Choice
Jan. 9th, 2021 10:22 amglennagirl.livejournal.comOkay, enough with the news and events station. Here's something from the easy and wistful station...
A Tight Spot
glennagirl.livejournal.comNapoleon was still sleuthing around the office, hoping to discover Illya’s secret plans for New Year’s Eve. Today was the last opportunity he would have to declare victory over his secretive partner.
Casually strolling into the translations room, Napoleon approached Mandy, the woman who seemed to know everything that went on in HQ.
“Mandy my sweet, how are you today?” He oozed charm in that simple question, and she responded with the expected wistful smile.
“Oh Napoleon, have you come to see me? I’m … umm… honored.” The sweet smile became smug, a sure sign that she knew something interesting.
Secrets - A Little Drabble Do Ya
Dec. 30th, 2020 09:25 amglennagirl.livejournal.com“Illya my friend, it’s almost New Year’s Eve. What are you planning?”
Illya Kuryakin had expected this, he knew his partner would already have plans, possibly more than one. He’d been known to have two dates; one in reserve in case the first one folded up like an umbrella.
“Napoleon, my friend… We’ve been on two continents, one THRUSH compound and spent another night here in Medical. I have no intention of celebrating that.”
Napoleon smiled.
“You have a date, I already know that.”
“You don’t know everything.”
“Tell me.”
“I think not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a spy.”
“Hmmph.”
glennagirl.livejournal.comRound 2 begins here. Read from the beginning using these links:
Who's In Trouble Now?
Napoleon couldn’t remember a crazier Christmas, and he had a few to choose from. This one was truly bizarre. His mind was trying to locate some other time when his favorite holiday had been hijacked by a lunatic when he located the camera he knew had been tracking him and Illya through the woods.
As Alexander Waverly watched his agent investigate the camera lens, a small smile crept across his face. He was going to enjoy this little ‘interview’ with the Claibornes. The Old Man might look the part of an aging English gentleman, but beneath the tweeds and the pleasant demeanor was an old, wily fox, and the couple in front of him, with their caviar and wine, had good reason to stand in fear before the Chief of UNCLE Northwest and beyond.
Have his job indeed! What they had was his attention, and that could be a very dangerous position in which to find oneself.
The lights beyond the shop’s exterior were still being reflected on the bottles and crystal inside. Extravagant trappings for the truly wealthy and their nouveau riche neighbors gave the Claiborne business the appearance of class and sophistication. What it disguised was a business that harbored vile and inhumane trafficking of human cargo. Randall Claiborne had long ago discovered that people would pay for cheap labor that asked no questions and dared not complain.
( Read more... )
A fitting end to a troubling year...
Dec. 24th, 2020 09:42 amglennagirl.livejournal.comThis past year has been one for the books, hopefully not what we have in store for the new year. To all who have been victimized by it, either through health issues or loss of income, or the distress of such uncertain times, I pray for peace and reassurances that it can and will get better.
For me, on Christmas Eve, I find the antidote to all of it. The promise of the Christ Child is one that transcends every evil, every disappointment or moment of despair.
It is the message of Christmas to have hope.
While I recognize that not everyone's celebration of Christmas is rooted in the gospel of Jesus Christ, it is the beginning of it. While we acknowledge that the date has been taken from pagan beginnings, the message is the power of hope and faith. Transferring the events of the birth of Jesus from its probable Autumn date cannot change the narrative of such glory, of the angelic chorus heralding his birth in the humblest of surroundings. That was to speak to his humanity and accessibility; not seated with the powerful but laid in the midst of the most common, the least favored in society.
That message is ours today, that in spite of what rails against us or threatens, we have an advocate who needs only our permission to speak or act on our behalf. I am aware that people, writers and readers, do not come here for advocacy of my faith, but I take editorial privilege to write these things. I would be remiss if I did not, and so leave it to you to receive or dismiss it.
( Read more... )
Wrong day...
Dec. 18th, 2020 02:37 pmglennagirl.livejournal.comI was searching for postings for Writers and Readers Choice when I realized it's only Friday. My days are a little foggy, I've managed to come up with bronchitis, so between the meds and being home for a change, I was convinced it was Saturday.
I hope everyone is doing well, some of you knee deep in snow I see from some posts. Here it's just cold, we've been in the 20's but seem to have climbed up into the low 40's at present. I'm not going anywhere for a few days anyway, so as long as my heat keeps pumping, I'm good.
Don't forget to catch up on the Christmas Round Robin. My post from yesterday has all of the links to each chapter, or you can click on the tag below, Christmas round robin 2020. While we're just sitting around, why not post something that makes you happy to be a part of the Man from UNCLE Cousin's Club. Give us a photo or even a note about when you first watched the series. It's always fun to know about how we came to be fans.
Just one week until Christmas, gift us with a little MFU joy!
glennagirl.livejournal.comThis is the opening chapter for the annual Christmas Round Robin.
We couldn't let 2020 deny us our traditional year end celebration.
You can follow the story here on Section Vii, or on AO3
Please join us in the journey...
Twas the Night Before Trouble
“Major Durham, please…’ Illya hated the idea of pleading with this man, but he had to save them, even at the cost of his pride. Napoleon moved his head ever so slightly, he knew what was going through Illya's mind and the risk it would be for everyone involved.
“You don’t need to kill anyone. Miss Claiborne is urgently in need of care, surely you can allow us to get her to hospital.” It was futile, deep down Illya knew it, and Napoleon knew it as well. All the American needed was one small opening, just enough to divert the man's attention
Catherine Claiborne groaned, the little bit of life still in her fighting for survival. Her status as a socialite had been too much of a temptation for Durham. A low level THRUSH himself, he thought an infusion of cash would change his future within the Hierarchy. Now he was walled in by UNCLE agents, and an angry Russian was ready to pull the trigger if anything went wrong. Durham had to act like he had control, and holding a gun on Solo was his only play if he wanted to get out of here alive.
Each of the three men in the room were calculating the odds of survival if he should fail to do what was necessary. Added to their own survival was the hope that Catherine Claiborne might also live past this encounter. Napoleon's options were limited, but Illya might be able to do something.
In a split second of motion, Illya dove down, aiming at Durham. The major hesitated just long enough for Napoleon to duck as two shots were fired simultaneously. Free of Durham’s grip, Napoleon watched as the major fell to the floor. Illya had put a bullet between his eyes, a fatal shot.
“Illya, you…’ Lying on the floor next to Catherine, Illya’s white shirt was showing a bloom of red.
“Oh no… Illya, buddy… oh god.” Napoleon looked again at Catherine, felt for a pulse. Napoleon opened his communicator and called for help. They were in Queens, near the newly constructed Shea Stadium. Waverly assured him that there would be no delays getting help to the site.
"Hold on Illya, the cavalry's coming."
( Read more... )
Blissful Romance Story
Nov. 12th, 2020 01:09 pmssclassof56.livejournal.comThe link goes to AO3.
Feast or Famine
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