House Guest and Fish, Man from UNCLE, Gen, G
Title: House Guests and Fish
Fandom: Man from UNCLE
Genre: Gen
Characters: Napoleon Solo & Illya Kuryakin
Prompt: House guests and fish stink after three days
Word Count: 1580
Rating: All
Warnings: None really
“Is it alive?”
“Does it matter?”
“I imagine to it, it does.”
He bent close to listen. “Barely.”
“Help me. I’m taking it home.”
“No! No! No! Not another stray. I forbid it. In the morning, they will be gone and your heart will be broken.”
“Really? Has life made you that callous that you would watch something die without even making an attempt?”
“If we leave it, it’ll be dead in ten minutes.”
“Then let it die in warmth and light as oppose to the cold and dark.”
He sighed, long and slowly. He knew it was a losing battle. “All right. I will go get some help.”
“And be quick about it. Please?” She stroked the golden hair gently.
It was that lilt that had made him first fall in love. Shaking his head, he ran quickly back to the village. Given the time, he knew where everyone would be, well, all of his friends, at any rate. It didn’t take him long to round up a dozen or so willing souls. Such were his friends. Offering to buy them a drink afterwards didn’t hurt, either.
He led the way back, hoping that they might be too late. He saw her pacing and knew they weren’t.
“Finally! I thought you might have stopped off for a drink.” There was suppressed laughter from the group. “It’s good you brought so many; I found another one. He’s just behind those bushes.”
“Another one? This just isn’t my day.”
“You know they tend to travel in pairs.
“Wait, he? I thought it was usually a male/female thing. ”
“Apparently not in this case.”
He sighed, knowing this was going to cost him another round of drinks. “All right, who’s with me?”
****
It took them the better part of an hour to get them back to the village. She was fit to be tied by the time they were laid in front of a fire and some bowls of nourishment had been placed at their heads.
“Should we clean them up a bit? They smell.” She spun and frowned at the man who spoke. “Well, they do, sort of. You know the old saying, after three days, houseguests and fish begin to stink.”
“They just got here.” She wasn’t happy with the lack of empathy for the poor creatures. “And, no, we will wait. If they clean themselves, then we know they will recover.” She put her hands on her hips. “So what did he promise you? Food? Drinks?” By the shared look within the group, she knew. “All right, let’s go. A round of drinks is the least I can do.”
****
Illya stirred in his sleep. It had been a sleep racked with odd dreams and sensations. He opened his eyes and gradually became aware that he was on the floor in front of a crackling fire. This was nice. Much nicer than the snow bank he’d… That made him come awake with stunning clarity, yet he didn’t move a muscle.
First he listened, waiting for any sound that might warn him of the enemy. THRUSH would be out in force by now. This, however, was unlike any THRUSH prison he’d ever seen. From his position on the floor, he could see a rocking chair, knitting resting to one side. There was an overstuffed chair and a nearby table with a pipe waiting patiently for the return of its owner. Everywhere he could see was neat, tidy and homey.
Slowly sitting up, he looked around at what more he could see of the neatly furnished room that he could see by the firelight. Relief flooded in as he saw Napoleon sleeping just a few feet from him. At least, for the moment they were both safe.
With a groan, Illya got to his feet and thwacked his head on a low-hanging pot. He grabbed it to keep it from rattling and stooped over. It wasn’t often he was in a spot that challenged his height. After a short exploration, he found the facilities and made use of them. They were rustic, but his bladder didn’t care.
Washing his face woke him up a bit more and he shivered in the cool air away from the fire. Moving back to the warmth, he saw a bowl of something. Sniffing the white liquid didn’t resolve the mystery, so he touched his finger to it and cautiously tasted it. That was all it took for him to lift the plate and drink the contents down. It was warm, sweet and delicious. He eagerly looked at Napoleon’s bowl, but stopped himself in the nick of time. Napoleon would need something when he woke up. Still, the temptation was tremendous and it was sheer will that kept him from downing Napoleon’s as well.
Lethargy started to tug at his limbs and he settled down beside his partner, his back against Napoleon’s. That way no one could surprise them. The full sauce still called to him, but he called up his training and it wasn’t long before his eyes drooped and he slipped off to sleep.
****
“Well, at least one of them is still with us,” he announced as they stumbled in through the front door much later. “He’s definitely changed position.”
“And he cleaned up and ate. That’s excellent. I just hope the other will be okay.” She refilled the empty bowl and stoked the fireplace, laying on more logs. “At least they will be toasty.”
“Either he will or he won’t.” Drinking always made him philosophical. “Now, come to bed. Morning will answer your question. Come along.” He gestured to the stairs, smiling seductively. “After you, my dear.”
She giggled and followed him up the stairs.
****
Napoleon woke at the sounds of voices or, at least what seemed to be voices, fading, but he kept his eyes closed, and his limbs still, feigning sleep. He remembered coming to and managing to wiggle out of his restraints before freeing Illya. Together they grabbed what they could and headed out into the night, praying to whatever god looked after escaping agents.
He remembered the snow, the cold, and the biting wind. Illya had gone down and Napoleon managed about three more steps before he succumbed to Old Man Winter.
Now he was warm and he could hear the fire crackling. The voices were high pitch, fast and in a language that didn’t immediately leap to his brain for instant translation.
There was a comforting weight against his back and Napoleon hoped it was Illya and not some wild creature. At least the fire was warm.
Napoleon cautiously opened his eyes and stared into the dancing flames. “Where did the forest go?” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. It didn’t surprise him when Illya answered him.
“No idea, but try the stuff in the bowl. It’s really good. Really, really good.” Illya’s voice was equally soft, although like Napoleon, he didn’t move.
“We’re not alone.”
“I know, but it sounds like they’ve gone to sleep.”
Napoleon slowly sat up, ready to spring into action at a second’s warning. They were alone, though, and he patted Illya’s shoulder. “The coast is clear. It’s time we make our exit.”
Illya joined him and stretched. “Must we? It’s so nice and warm here.”
“We are going to be missed and THRUSH will have started a full scale search for us. You don’t want to endanger innocents.”
“No more than usual.” At Napoleon’s glare, Illya got to his feet, remembering to stoop at the last minute. “Warning, there are very low ceilings here. Can’t we at least eat first?”
He could see the reluctance in Illya’s eyes and he kept staring at the bowl of creamy white liquid with an expression of half longing and half lust. “No.” Napoleon pushed him toward the door. “We’ll eat when we get clear of this place. Let’s go.”
After what seemed like an eternity, Illya nodded and headed towards to door. He tried the latch. “It won’t budge. Guess we’re stuck here.”
Napoleon pointed to a window. “Go!”
****
She woke to sunshine and winter birds singing. For the longest time, she stayed in bed, happy to alive and safe. Then she remember the two she’d left by the fire. Getting up, she made sure she was presentable and she hurried down the stairs, only to stop and sigh heavily.
Gone. The window banged open, letting in enough cold air to chill the room.
“Told you,” he said from behind her as he knotted his robe.
“I really thought.” She closed the window with a heavy heart. “I thought maybe this time it would be different. And I thought I’d gotten mixture just right. Maybe if he’d had the second bowl…”
“We’re used to little ones. With adults, you can never tell. Tell you what. I hear tell that there is a baby in town who need a good home. Perhaps if you adopt it instead of a grown one, it’ll be different.”
“Can we? Really? Do you think it would be different?” She then stopped. “But what can we leave in exchange? There has to be an exchange for it to be binding.”
“Last night I heard that the house two doors down were keen for a swap. We can negotiate with them.”
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as hard as she could. “Really, truly?”
“As long as you promised to look after it. Little ones are very demanding and they live a long time.”
“I will! I promise.”
He kissed her sweetly until her wings fluttered happily. “Then let’s got find you a changeling.” After all, it was what fairies did.
Fandom: Man from UNCLE
Genre: Gen
Characters: Napoleon Solo & Illya Kuryakin
Prompt: House guests and fish stink after three days
Word Count: 1580
Rating: All
Warnings: None really
“Is it alive?”
“Does it matter?”
“I imagine to it, it does.”
He bent close to listen. “Barely.”
“Help me. I’m taking it home.”
“No! No! No! Not another stray. I forbid it. In the morning, they will be gone and your heart will be broken.”
“Really? Has life made you that callous that you would watch something die without even making an attempt?”
“If we leave it, it’ll be dead in ten minutes.”
“Then let it die in warmth and light as oppose to the cold and dark.”
He sighed, long and slowly. He knew it was a losing battle. “All right. I will go get some help.”
“And be quick about it. Please?” She stroked the golden hair gently.
It was that lilt that had made him first fall in love. Shaking his head, he ran quickly back to the village. Given the time, he knew where everyone would be, well, all of his friends, at any rate. It didn’t take him long to round up a dozen or so willing souls. Such were his friends. Offering to buy them a drink afterwards didn’t hurt, either.
He led the way back, hoping that they might be too late. He saw her pacing and knew they weren’t.
“Finally! I thought you might have stopped off for a drink.” There was suppressed laughter from the group. “It’s good you brought so many; I found another one. He’s just behind those bushes.”
“Another one? This just isn’t my day.”
“You know they tend to travel in pairs.
“Wait, he? I thought it was usually a male/female thing. ”
“Apparently not in this case.”
He sighed, knowing this was going to cost him another round of drinks. “All right, who’s with me?”
****
It took them the better part of an hour to get them back to the village. She was fit to be tied by the time they were laid in front of a fire and some bowls of nourishment had been placed at their heads.
“Should we clean them up a bit? They smell.” She spun and frowned at the man who spoke. “Well, they do, sort of. You know the old saying, after three days, houseguests and fish begin to stink.”
“They just got here.” She wasn’t happy with the lack of empathy for the poor creatures. “And, no, we will wait. If they clean themselves, then we know they will recover.” She put her hands on her hips. “So what did he promise you? Food? Drinks?” By the shared look within the group, she knew. “All right, let’s go. A round of drinks is the least I can do.”
****
Illya stirred in his sleep. It had been a sleep racked with odd dreams and sensations. He opened his eyes and gradually became aware that he was on the floor in front of a crackling fire. This was nice. Much nicer than the snow bank he’d… That made him come awake with stunning clarity, yet he didn’t move a muscle.
First he listened, waiting for any sound that might warn him of the enemy. THRUSH would be out in force by now. This, however, was unlike any THRUSH prison he’d ever seen. From his position on the floor, he could see a rocking chair, knitting resting to one side. There was an overstuffed chair and a nearby table with a pipe waiting patiently for the return of its owner. Everywhere he could see was neat, tidy and homey.
Slowly sitting up, he looked around at what more he could see of the neatly furnished room that he could see by the firelight. Relief flooded in as he saw Napoleon sleeping just a few feet from him. At least, for the moment they were both safe.
With a groan, Illya got to his feet and thwacked his head on a low-hanging pot. He grabbed it to keep it from rattling and stooped over. It wasn’t often he was in a spot that challenged his height. After a short exploration, he found the facilities and made use of them. They were rustic, but his bladder didn’t care.
Washing his face woke him up a bit more and he shivered in the cool air away from the fire. Moving back to the warmth, he saw a bowl of something. Sniffing the white liquid didn’t resolve the mystery, so he touched his finger to it and cautiously tasted it. That was all it took for him to lift the plate and drink the contents down. It was warm, sweet and delicious. He eagerly looked at Napoleon’s bowl, but stopped himself in the nick of time. Napoleon would need something when he woke up. Still, the temptation was tremendous and it was sheer will that kept him from downing Napoleon’s as well.
Lethargy started to tug at his limbs and he settled down beside his partner, his back against Napoleon’s. That way no one could surprise them. The full sauce still called to him, but he called up his training and it wasn’t long before his eyes drooped and he slipped off to sleep.
****
“Well, at least one of them is still with us,” he announced as they stumbled in through the front door much later. “He’s definitely changed position.”
“And he cleaned up and ate. That’s excellent. I just hope the other will be okay.” She refilled the empty bowl and stoked the fireplace, laying on more logs. “At least they will be toasty.”
“Either he will or he won’t.” Drinking always made him philosophical. “Now, come to bed. Morning will answer your question. Come along.” He gestured to the stairs, smiling seductively. “After you, my dear.”
She giggled and followed him up the stairs.
****
Napoleon woke at the sounds of voices or, at least what seemed to be voices, fading, but he kept his eyes closed, and his limbs still, feigning sleep. He remembered coming to and managing to wiggle out of his restraints before freeing Illya. Together they grabbed what they could and headed out into the night, praying to whatever god looked after escaping agents.
He remembered the snow, the cold, and the biting wind. Illya had gone down and Napoleon managed about three more steps before he succumbed to Old Man Winter.
Now he was warm and he could hear the fire crackling. The voices were high pitch, fast and in a language that didn’t immediately leap to his brain for instant translation.
There was a comforting weight against his back and Napoleon hoped it was Illya and not some wild creature. At least the fire was warm.
Napoleon cautiously opened his eyes and stared into the dancing flames. “Where did the forest go?” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. It didn’t surprise him when Illya answered him.
“No idea, but try the stuff in the bowl. It’s really good. Really, really good.” Illya’s voice was equally soft, although like Napoleon, he didn’t move.
“We’re not alone.”
“I know, but it sounds like they’ve gone to sleep.”
Napoleon slowly sat up, ready to spring into action at a second’s warning. They were alone, though, and he patted Illya’s shoulder. “The coast is clear. It’s time we make our exit.”
Illya joined him and stretched. “Must we? It’s so nice and warm here.”
“We are going to be missed and THRUSH will have started a full scale search for us. You don’t want to endanger innocents.”
“No more than usual.” At Napoleon’s glare, Illya got to his feet, remembering to stoop at the last minute. “Warning, there are very low ceilings here. Can’t we at least eat first?”
He could see the reluctance in Illya’s eyes and he kept staring at the bowl of creamy white liquid with an expression of half longing and half lust. “No.” Napoleon pushed him toward the door. “We’ll eat when we get clear of this place. Let’s go.”
After what seemed like an eternity, Illya nodded and headed towards to door. He tried the latch. “It won’t budge. Guess we’re stuck here.”
Napoleon pointed to a window. “Go!”
****
She woke to sunshine and winter birds singing. For the longest time, she stayed in bed, happy to alive and safe. Then she remember the two she’d left by the fire. Getting up, she made sure she was presentable and she hurried down the stairs, only to stop and sigh heavily.
Gone. The window banged open, letting in enough cold air to chill the room.
“Told you,” he said from behind her as he knotted his robe.
“I really thought.” She closed the window with a heavy heart. “I thought maybe this time it would be different. And I thought I’d gotten mixture just right. Maybe if he’d had the second bowl…”
“We’re used to little ones. With adults, you can never tell. Tell you what. I hear tell that there is a baby in town who need a good home. Perhaps if you adopt it instead of a grown one, it’ll be different.”
“Can we? Really? Do you think it would be different?” She then stopped. “But what can we leave in exchange? There has to be an exchange for it to be binding.”
“Last night I heard that the house two doors down were keen for a swap. We can negotiate with them.”
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as hard as she could. “Really, truly?”
“As long as you promised to look after it. Little ones are very demanding and they live a long time.”
“I will! I promise.”
He kissed her sweetly until her wings fluttered happily. “Then let’s got find you a changeling.” After all, it was what fairies did.