A Spring Fling for Ducky's Lady
Title: Here Comes the Sun
Genre: Man from UNCLE Foothills
Rating: PG - minor slashiness.
Prompt:
duckys_lady, I hope you enjoy your taste of Spring! Thanks to you for playing along and to Sparky, my sharp-eyed beta.
Napoleon Solo was torn. The sun was warm on his face and the breeze was so soft. It carried the scents of Spring: tree blossoms, grass being cut for the first time, and flowers. Yet, in his heart, it warned, “Can’t be trusted. Tomorrow there will be snow. There should be snow.”
The back porch of the restaurant was designed for the employees of Taste to use as they saw fit. All that Illya asked, demanded, was that it be kept tidy. It had a mishmash of chairs and tables, well used pillows and ashtrays, but it was clean and free of trash. There were some flowerpots set along the edge and the pansies bloomed in wild abandon. Soon it would be too hot for them, but now they were the flower of the hour.
“Hey, Mr. S.” Rocky came around the corner from the storeroom, carrying a pile of stiff white aprons for his waiters. “Enjoying the sun or just getting out from under foot?” They both knew how Matt and Illya could be when trying a new menu and tonight was its premiere. The tension in the kitchen was thick enough to slice and serve as an entrée.
Napoleon shook his head and sighed, more loudly than he meant to and Rocky stopped mid step and took off his sunglasses. “What’s going on?”
Napoleon smiled sadly. “You’ll laugh.”
“Try me. And remember I work for your crazy partner.”
“I miss winter.”
“Come again?” Rocky chuckled at the thought.
Napoleon nodded and pointed a finger at him. “See? I told you you’d laugh. Back in New York, winter would just be gearing up.” He pushed himself off the porch rail and moved to a webbed chair in the shade. “It would be miserable, long dark days that bled into even longer nights. The snow and slush would be piled high, even in the city, and the sidewalks were downright treacherous. And then, there was all the outerwear, heavy boots, gloves, mufflers, and so on.”
“We have that here,” Rocky said, taking a seat beside him.
“And it lasts a grand total of a few weeks. The snow comes about the middle of December and is gone by January. By February, Spring is already ramping up and by March, flowers are opening and the trees have leaves… if they even lost them to begin with.” Napoleon took a swallow of coffee. “Back east, March was still a month away before there is any sort of thaw… maybe by April, when the rains arrived and finally by May, we would be here, with the sun and the flowers.”
Rocky brushed his hair off his forehead. In with the setting sun, it was getting warm. “You could go to the mountains. Tahoe still has snow. I know Chef would take you.”
“But even there, it’s different.”
“How?”
“There it’s a source of income and delight. They pray for snow for the resorts, they don’t dread it and have to live with it for five months.”
“And you miss that?”
“No.” Napoleon shook his head. “What I miss is the anticipation of Spring and the hunger for it. Waiting for that first sign and feeling a sense of relief and wonder at it. Here, it’s easy, we just sort of wake up one morning and there it is in front of us.”
“That makes sense, you being from New England, but you can’t tell me your body doesn’t appreciate the lack of really cold weather.”
“It does, but my heart…” Napoleon broke off. “Did I ever tell you what Illya did for me once?”
“This isn’t going to come with an R rating, is it?” Rocky resisted looking at his watch and kept his attention focused upon Napoleon.
“No and it’s a short story, so I won’t keep you much longer. One winter it was especially bad. It didn’t seem as if winter was ever going to let go of us. Even I was feeling very down and depressed. I didn’t realize how much until Illya, very excitedly, grabbed me and dragged me to a sheltered spot in the park. There, struggling out of the snow was a lone daffodil.”
“Oh my god…”
“Right? I was so happy and then I touched it… It was a green painted straw and butter that Illya had carved to look like a daffodil. His way of telling me Spring would come. I don’t think I could have loved him anymore in that moment.”
Rocky rubbed his eyes and sniffed. “Allergies,” he mumbled. “Listen, I need to get back. Can I get you anything? Something stronger than coffee?”
“I’m fine for right now. Thank you and thank you for listening.”
Rocky leaned forward and hugged him. “Heck, Mr. S. that’s why we have two ears and one mouth.”
Napoleon sat there for a long time. His coffee had gone cold and the wind had taken on an edge. He shivered and looked back over his shoulder at the restaurant. Illya hadn’t come out screaming, so that was a good sign, but neither had any of the servers or kitchen staff. That was odd…
Slowly he got up, wincing at the pulls in various muscles. Even with the warmer temperatures, he still had more than his share of aches and pains. He didn’t know how Illya managed more nights. His career with UNCLE had been twice as physical as Napoleon’s.
He walked slowly and carefully around to the front of the building and stopped.
The front of Taste was a winter wonderland of snow. It clung to the bases of flowers and caked the sides of the stairs.
“What on Earth?” He stopped and a lone daffodil caught his eye. He reached down and touch it. “It’s butter.”
“Imported, unsalted. Nothing but the best for you.”
Napoleon looked up through the tears in his eyes at his partner and lover. “How…?”
“Blame Rocky.” Illya came down the stairs and brushed Napoleon’s face dry.
“He deserves a raise.”
“I know.” Illya glanced around and risked a rare public kiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how depressed you were getting. Why do you put up with me?”
“Your kindness just moved me to tears and you have to ask me that?”
“Hey, if you want, I can take some time off now. We’ll get a couple of tickets to New York and go home.”
Napoleon hugged Illya close and whispered, “I am home.”
Genre: Man from UNCLE Foothills
Rating: PG - minor slashiness.
Prompt:
duckys_lady, I hope you enjoy your taste of Spring! Thanks to you for playing along and to Sparky, my sharp-eyed beta.Napoleon Solo was torn. The sun was warm on his face and the breeze was so soft. It carried the scents of Spring: tree blossoms, grass being cut for the first time, and flowers. Yet, in his heart, it warned, “Can’t be trusted. Tomorrow there will be snow. There should be snow.”
The back porch of the restaurant was designed for the employees of Taste to use as they saw fit. All that Illya asked, demanded, was that it be kept tidy. It had a mishmash of chairs and tables, well used pillows and ashtrays, but it was clean and free of trash. There were some flowerpots set along the edge and the pansies bloomed in wild abandon. Soon it would be too hot for them, but now they were the flower of the hour.
“Hey, Mr. S.” Rocky came around the corner from the storeroom, carrying a pile of stiff white aprons for his waiters. “Enjoying the sun or just getting out from under foot?” They both knew how Matt and Illya could be when trying a new menu and tonight was its premiere. The tension in the kitchen was thick enough to slice and serve as an entrée.
Napoleon shook his head and sighed, more loudly than he meant to and Rocky stopped mid step and took off his sunglasses. “What’s going on?”
Napoleon smiled sadly. “You’ll laugh.”
“Try me. And remember I work for your crazy partner.”
“I miss winter.”
“Come again?” Rocky chuckled at the thought.
Napoleon nodded and pointed a finger at him. “See? I told you you’d laugh. Back in New York, winter would just be gearing up.” He pushed himself off the porch rail and moved to a webbed chair in the shade. “It would be miserable, long dark days that bled into even longer nights. The snow and slush would be piled high, even in the city, and the sidewalks were downright treacherous. And then, there was all the outerwear, heavy boots, gloves, mufflers, and so on.”
“We have that here,” Rocky said, taking a seat beside him.
“And it lasts a grand total of a few weeks. The snow comes about the middle of December and is gone by January. By February, Spring is already ramping up and by March, flowers are opening and the trees have leaves… if they even lost them to begin with.” Napoleon took a swallow of coffee. “Back east, March was still a month away before there is any sort of thaw… maybe by April, when the rains arrived and finally by May, we would be here, with the sun and the flowers.”
Rocky brushed his hair off his forehead. In with the setting sun, it was getting warm. “You could go to the mountains. Tahoe still has snow. I know Chef would take you.”
“But even there, it’s different.”
“How?”
“There it’s a source of income and delight. They pray for snow for the resorts, they don’t dread it and have to live with it for five months.”
“And you miss that?”
“No.” Napoleon shook his head. “What I miss is the anticipation of Spring and the hunger for it. Waiting for that first sign and feeling a sense of relief and wonder at it. Here, it’s easy, we just sort of wake up one morning and there it is in front of us.”
“That makes sense, you being from New England, but you can’t tell me your body doesn’t appreciate the lack of really cold weather.”
“It does, but my heart…” Napoleon broke off. “Did I ever tell you what Illya did for me once?”
“This isn’t going to come with an R rating, is it?” Rocky resisted looking at his watch and kept his attention focused upon Napoleon.
“No and it’s a short story, so I won’t keep you much longer. One winter it was especially bad. It didn’t seem as if winter was ever going to let go of us. Even I was feeling very down and depressed. I didn’t realize how much until Illya, very excitedly, grabbed me and dragged me to a sheltered spot in the park. There, struggling out of the snow was a lone daffodil.”
“Oh my god…”
“Right? I was so happy and then I touched it… It was a green painted straw and butter that Illya had carved to look like a daffodil. His way of telling me Spring would come. I don’t think I could have loved him anymore in that moment.”
Rocky rubbed his eyes and sniffed. “Allergies,” he mumbled. “Listen, I need to get back. Can I get you anything? Something stronger than coffee?”
“I’m fine for right now. Thank you and thank you for listening.”
Rocky leaned forward and hugged him. “Heck, Mr. S. that’s why we have two ears and one mouth.”
Napoleon sat there for a long time. His coffee had gone cold and the wind had taken on an edge. He shivered and looked back over his shoulder at the restaurant. Illya hadn’t come out screaming, so that was a good sign, but neither had any of the servers or kitchen staff. That was odd…
Slowly he got up, wincing at the pulls in various muscles. Even with the warmer temperatures, he still had more than his share of aches and pains. He didn’t know how Illya managed more nights. His career with UNCLE had been twice as physical as Napoleon’s.
He walked slowly and carefully around to the front of the building and stopped.
The front of Taste was a winter wonderland of snow. It clung to the bases of flowers and caked the sides of the stairs.
“What on Earth?” He stopped and a lone daffodil caught his eye. He reached down and touch it. “It’s butter.”
“Imported, unsalted. Nothing but the best for you.”
Napoleon looked up through the tears in his eyes at his partner and lover. “How…?”
“Blame Rocky.” Illya came down the stairs and brushed Napoleon’s face dry.
“He deserves a raise.”
“I know.” Illya glanced around and risked a rare public kiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how depressed you were getting. Why do you put up with me?”
“Your kindness just moved me to tears and you have to ask me that?”
“Hey, if you want, I can take some time off now. We’ll get a couple of tickets to New York and go home.”
Napoleon hugged Illya close and whispered, “I am home.”