Tags: slash sort of


A new Foothills story

Title: Enchanted Neighborhood
Co-authored by georgiamagnolia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2093

Carrot (georgiamagnolia) sent this to me, saying that she'd found it in an old file and had no idea what she was going to do with it and did I want it? Of cousre, I did. First it was a chance to play with my old writing buddy and second it was a challenge.

My thanks to her and to sparky955 for her clean up.

“If I’d known coming late to dinner would get me this I would be late every night.” Napoleon arranged his fork and knife crossed over his clean plate then smiled at his partner next to him. Rocky appeared from nowhere to retrieve the plate and disappeared again, hummed bars of ABBA trailing behind him.

“What did you do, lick the platter clean?”


“I will take that as a vote of confidence for our newest menu additions,” Illya gave Napoleon the barest of smiles but his eyes danced with pleasure at the approval.
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Christmas Napoleon

The Final Christmas Fic for Lindafishes8

Title: Napoleon Solo's Worst Christmas Ever
Genre: Man from UNCLE - mild slash
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3820
Prompt: Napoleon, Illya, Fruitcake

lindafishes8, I hope you like your holiday treat, even if it isn't exactly brand new. have a lovely Christmas and my thanks to you and to Sparky955 for the beta.

This was the worst Christmas ever!

The day was dreary, dull, and perfectly matched Napoleon Solo’s mood. The rain had been pelting down for the past forty-eight hours, trapping him inside, not that he had anywhere to go.

Normally, he found his meticulously decorated and comfortable penthouse a refuge from the outside, but with Illya away on assignment, it was merely an empty and lifeless shell. They’d lived together for six months now, and while there was some settling in pains at first, they eventually started operating as a well-oiled machine both here and at work. However, Illya had been gone for a month now, a fact that predated Napoleon’s cold by three weeks, and Napoleon felt his absence keenly, although less keenly since getting sick.

He pushed aside the heavy curtains and stared out, feeling more a prisoner in his own home than he ever felt in a THUSH cell. It didn’t matter that the rug was thick and luxurious, the furniture comfortable and to his exact specifications, the artwork on the walls tasteful and carefully arranged or that the music that played was seasonal and bright. He could have been in a cold cement hole for all he cared. Without Illya, everything was dull and listless.

Napoleon sighed and coughed, his hands debating whether to go to his head and try to squeeze the headache from it or his aching ribs and attempt to hold them still until the bout subsided. He didn’t mind getting hurt in the course of his job; it was one of the sad results of keeping the world safe, but this? It didn’t seem fair, especially this close to Christmas.
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A double header Lit fic for Alynwa and Repearmum

Title: A Far Better Thing
Genre: Man from UNCLE Foothills series/slash implied
Rating: PG
Word count: 1595
Prompts: It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known. Tale of Two Cities - alynwa

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Tale of Two Cities - Reapermum

I hope you two don't mind that I combined your prompts into the same story. It just seemed to work the best. My thanks to you for some fun prompts and to Sparky for her beta

Napoleon Solo drew a deep breath – a final task before sweet, sweet oblivion, a chance to escape and be free, an opportunity to fly away. He reached out and noticed his hand trembled just slightly. So tired, he was so tired, so ready to shuffle off…

“That garbage isn’t going to dump itself, you know.” Illya Kuryakin stood with his back to Napoleon. He was busy washing the few dishes that couldn’t go into the dishwasher. “Every night it’s the same thing. I keep telling you that you can wash up and I’ll toss the trash.”

Napoleon sighed and regarded the white plastic bag in his hand. “No, it’s the least I can do after that meal you prepared. Plus if I let you outside, there’s a good chance you’ll sneak over to Taste and then I won’t see you again until tomorrow morning.”

Illya half turned, grinning. “Come on, I’m better than that now. I hardly ever sneak off to the restaurant these days.”
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What Subtext

Some lit fic for Bonniejean

Title: The Last Dream of my Soul
Genre: Man from UNCLE preslash
Rating: PG
Word count: 1174
Prompt: You have been the last dream of my soul.. Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

Bonnie, I hope you enjoy this little bit of fun. Thanks for a great quote! And also thanks for my beta, sparky955!

Napoleon Solo watched from the plane window as the island dipped beyond the horizon and nodded to himself. That island was nothing but bad news from the ground up. Now the casino would be razed and its employees rounded up and interviewed by UNCLE to make sure there were no lasting effects from Barnaby Partridge’s mind control.

Napoleon shifted his attention to his partner. Illya had been avoiding him as much possible these last two days. When avoidance wasn’t possible, Illya became overly glib, something Napoleon didn’t think Illya was capable of. He’d always been busy or in the middle of something when Napoleon tried to catch him for a meal or just to talk.

The UNCLE plane was spacious and there were just the two of them and their pilot, but now there was no place to go, nowhere for his reticent partner to hide. It was time to take the Russian by his horns.

Napoleon undid his seatbelt and went back to the galley. It only took him a couple of tries to find the alcohol. He managed a couple martinis, although he had to settle for domestic gin and onions.
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What Subtext

A response to the Drabble Challenge over on MFUWSS

Title: If You Ever
Genre: MFU
Rating: PG
Word Count: 100
Prompt: If you ever

My thanks to akane42me. What fun!

Illya tucked an arm behind his head. “Napoleon, do you count the stars?”

From his own sleeping bag, Napoleon mumbled, “No, why would I do that?”

“When I was a boy, my father told me that when you stop counting stars, that’s the day you start to die.” He looked over at Napoleon. “I’ve never stopped counting, but now I count for both of us.” He smiled up at the moon.

“If you ever decide to stop, let me know.” Napoleon reached out a hand. “I’ll start, because the day I lose you is the day I start to die.”
Christmas Illya

A Christmas Gift to Ducky's Lady

Title: Fa La La
Genre: Man from UNCLE
Rating: PG for mild slash
Word Count: 2720
Prompt: How about Illya helping Napoleon get in the Christmas spirit for a change?

duckys_lady, I hope this fits the bill and that you have a great Christmas. My thanks to sparky955 for her beta

Napoleon read the back of the post card and tried to smile. His aunt was having a great time in the Caribbean and he was stuck here in the cold of New York. He tried to be happy for her, but it wasn’t going to be Christmas without her.

When his aunt mentioned that she thought a Christmas cruise might be a nice change of pace, Napoleon didn’t pay much mind. After all, the chances of him being here to share it with her was next to nothing. While he usually tried his best, he missed more Christmas dinners than he made. He flipped the card over to glance at the scantily clad ladies on the front and then over again.

My dearest Napoleon,

How I wish you were here with me right now. The days are warm and the nights soft. The ship is beautifully decorated and there is one party after another. The tree in the lobby is so lovely, all silver and gold. It reminds me of our tree. I miss you, dear one. Stay safe and give my love to Illya. Amy

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My default

A new Foothills

Title: Nina Pretty Ballerina
Genre: Slash (implied)
Word count: 1902
Prompt: Could we perhaps have Illya meeting up with a childhood friend who is now a choreographer with the LA ballet and reminiscing about their Russian childhood?. For loxleyprince. Link will take you to A)3 if you prefer to read it there.

Illya shifted the last of the groceries from the cart into the front seat of his truck. It seemed funny that someone who owned a restaurant would have to shop, but much of the food he made for the patrons of Taste was not in Napoleon’s diet plan. A carton of salted caramel ice cream caught his eye and he smiled fondly, thinking how happy his partner would be to find that in the freezer. Little surprises like this is what kept Napoleon honest the rest of the time. And it would be a nice welcome home surprise for him.

Napoleon had been gone for nearly a week now, a guest speaker at a prestigious wine event. While Illya missed him dearly, he played it close to his chest. Napoleon was always supportive when he was called away to such an event. It was only fair that he do the same

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, please, I think I’m lost. Is this Sutter Creek?”

He smiled at the Russian accent. He hadn’t heard one of those for a while. “No, Sutter Creek...” Illya started and turned around. His mouth dropped open. She hadn’t changed a bit. “Nina Aleksándrovich?”
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so not the wife

A new Mouth of Babes

Title: The Harsh Light of Reality
Genre: mild slashiness
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2027
Warnings: language, prejudice

alynwa gave me this prompt, wondering how their little family would deal with the fact that Napoleon and Illya were a bit more than just working partners. My thanks to her and to sparky955 for her beta.

Napoleon Solo knew it was going to be a good day even before opening his eyes. There was a pleasantly cool breeze blowing in from the bedroom window. It was sweet scented and promised a glorious day.

Opening his eyes, Napoleon realized he’d beaten the alarm clock. He still had another half hour to sleep. It was tempting to wallow in a sleepy hazy, but he was neither sleepy nor inclined to wallow. He simply felt too good today.

He tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He felt so good this morning. The sad reality of his days as an agent had left a lasting impression on his joints and most mornings were a crawl towards the shower and aspirin bottle. However, not today and that in itself was reason to celebrate.

There was a mumble from the other side of his bed and Napoleon grinned. He wondered just how much of this had to do with the lump hidden beneath the blanket and pillow. Impulsively, he leaned over and planted a kiss on the sleep-rumpled hair. Then he got up, found his pajama bottoms and robe and pulled them on.
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My default

12 Fics of Christmas - something special for Alynwa

Title: Gather Near to Us
Genre: Man from UNCLE - Mouth of Babes
Rating: PG
Word count: 776
Prompt: Ooo, I was just thinking that it's time for a new Mouth of Babes MFU featuring those sexy, slashy grandfathers.

Dear alynwa, I hope this fits the bill. Thanks for a fun prompt and my thanks to sparky955 for her help!

Illya Kuryakin was floating on a pleasant haze of food, drink and warmth. His stocking feet were stretched out to the fire and the chair he was in was so impossibly comfortable that he wondered if he would ever escape.

He smiled at the thought of his tiny great granddaughter. He’d spent an hour cuddling and tickling her while reciting some of the old nursery rhymes.

“Naar bed, naar bed, zei Duimelot
eerst nog wat eten zei Likkepot
waar zullen we het halen, zei Lange Jaap
in grootmoeder's kastje, zei Ringeling
ik zal het zeggen, zei het Kleine Ding"

Then he swooped in and gently tickled the little girl’s tummy. Angelica giggled and waved her chubby arms and legs in response.
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cat in bows

For Jkkitty and Lidafishes - Five Purring Kits

Title: Five Purring Kits
Genre: Slash, but G rated
Word Count: 1365
Prompt: Illya finds a basket of kittens just in time for the holidays.

jk and lindafishes8, I hope you enjoy your Christmas story! I certainly did have fun writing it! :D

Illya walked the last half block to Del Floria’s Tailor shop at a brisk pace. It was freezing, too cold for snow, although the forecasters had promised it was going to be a white Christmas.

Illya didn’t really mind. He still had shopping to do. He’d gotten everyone on his list something, except for his partner, Napoleon.

At the mere thought of the man’s name, a warm feeling started in Illya’s toes and shot upwards, it tarried briefly around his groin, then headed straight for his heart. Soon he’d be picking Napoleon up at the airport.

Illya checked his watch. Napoleon’s plane didn’t get in until two. He had from now to then to come up with something. Surely not another tie or cuff links. No, it had to be extraordinary. He’d talked with April and Mark, with George and anyone else who might have an idea. He’d be surprised if Waverly wasn’t aware of his plight. The man seemed to know everything, often even before the thought occurred to the owner.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he tripped on the box and nearly face planted on Del Floria’s threshold.

“Mr. Kuryakin, are you all right?” One of UNCLE’s many Del Floria’s was by his side. “What happened?”
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