avery11: (Default)
2014-04-25 09:35 am
Entry tags:

The Samovar Affair

 Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen


samovar


THE SAMOVAR AFFAIR

I

Alexander Waverly tried to light his pipe for the third time in as many minutes. As with both previous attempts, the sacred ritual was interrupted by the annoying beep that signaled an incoming telex.

“Blast. Is it too much to ask for a moment of world peace to allow me to light my pipe?” He blew out the match and began to read, muttering to himself as he scanned the coded message. His eyebrows rose and fell, rose and fell.

Never a good sign, those eyebrows, Napoleon Solo thought to himself. While he waited for the fate of the world to be decided yet again, he rose from the conference table, and poured himself a cup of much-needed coffee, wishing there were a way to jury-rig an intravenous drip. As meetings went, this was going to be a long one.

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avery11: (Default)
2014-04-25 09:15 am
Entry tags:

A Snowy Evening

 Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen

 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

 

Robert Frost- “Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening”


Notre Dame de Paris


A SNOWY EVENING


From their room on the fourth floor of the Hotel Saint Honore, Illya Kuryakin observed the snow-covered Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau with equanimity. It had been snowing since early morning, the first significant storm of the season, and although the snow had tapered off by mid-afternoon, the streets of Paris remained buried beneath a thick carpet of white. Traffic was non-existent, and the only sign of life on the street below was a lone man shuffling by on cross-country skis, his rucksack brimming with brightly wrapped presents. Orly-Paris Airport was closed until morning, their flight back to New York cancelled.

Ah well, Illya thought to himself, such are the vagaries of fate.

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avery11: (Default)
2014-04-25 08:32 am
Entry tags:

Once Upon A Time

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen

Russian fairy tale

 ONCE UPON A TIME



He arrived at Olgino in the brutal heart of Winter, 1942, a pale, terrified child crammed into the back of a lorry along with thirty other prisoners sentenced to the gulag for various crimes against the State. The man seated on his left was a murderer, condemned to twenty years at hard labor for strangling his neighbor to death in a dispute over firewood. On his right, the dough-faced man who had dared to tell a joke about Stalin to a co-worker sobbed shamelessly, his tears freezing on his plump cheeks. Across from him, a prostitute, the lone woman in the group, mumbled to herself as she picked at her few remaining teeth. The other prisoners sat silent, numb with fear and cold; they had no tears left to shed.

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avery11: (Default)
2014-04-25 08:17 am
Entry tags:

Endangered Species

Author: Avery11
Genre:
Gen


loggerhead turtle

ENDANGERED SPECIES

 

Napoleon Solo slipped out the door of their bungalow, wincing at the soft click of the mechanism as it closed behind him. He hoped the sound would not be sufficient to wake the exhausted Russian.

Barefoot, shirtless, and more than a little drunk, he padded along the cobbled path, past a half-dozen bungalows decorated in typical Barbadian style, their gingerbread eaves silhouetted dramatically against the night sky. A chorus of tree frogs, serenading one another in the branches of a nearby acacia, cut off abruptly as he passed. A mongoose, disturbed in the midst of its nightly hunt, slipped away unobserved.

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avery11: (Default)
2014-04-24 10:06 pm

The Trouble With Amphibians

 
frog pyramid

The Trouble With Amphibians

(Part One of THE TEN PLAGUES AFFAIR)

Act I: A Frog in the Hand...

It was Spring, the season of hope and rebirth, whose promise should have brought forth visions of yellow daffodils swaying in the fields out on Long Island, and sunny afternoons spent playing Frisbee under the budding maple trees in Central Park. Instead, it was raining. Again. Ten days in a row. A cold, dreary, endless rain, with more predicted for the weekend. A misery of rain, Illya thought sourly as he slowed to cross another flooded intersection. Like a murder of crows. A wave of muddy water briefly inundated the DeLorean's windshield as a sedan fishtailed by, speeding in the opposite direction

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avery11: (Default)
2014-04-24 09:07 pm
Entry tags:

Mind Games

 
psychiatrist's office


Mind Games

 
Illya stepped quietly into the darkened room. His eyes, as they became accustomed to the change in the light, took in the richly carved desk in the far corner, the faded photograph of a young man in a burnoose prominently displayed upon its gleaming surface. An oriental vase filled with yellow asters stood guard beside the photograph. A phalanx of bookshelves lined one wall, and an antique persian rug in sun-bleached shades of red and blue brought a wash of color to the dimly lit room. Joshegan, Illya recalled idly. Snowflake pattern.

Please, Mr. Kuryakin.” Dr. Neville gestured toward the couch, a tufted monstrosity in dark green velvet that would have been at home in any Victorian drawing room. “Have a seat.”

Reluctantly, Illya took his place on the couch, pushing aside a pair of antique kilim pillows in the traditional Kazak style. “I wondered when you would get around to me,” he said.

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avery11: (flowers and moon on red)
2014-04-22 07:01 pm

Jellyroll Attacks!

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
written for Easter Egg Challenge 2014
 

 

Jellyroll Attacks!



Jellyroll Attacks!  

 

Napoleon Solo hummed as he strolled down the concrete steps to DelFloria's Cleaners. The bell above the door tinkled merrily as he entered. “Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking, and when she passes...”

Giuseppe DelFloria – one of seven nearly identical “Giuseppes” currently employed by UNCLE to screen customers approaching the secret entrance to the New York Headquarters – looked up. “Buongiorno, Signor Solo. You looking pretty chipper this morning. Gotta nice spring inna you step.”

The senior agent grinned back. “What's not to be happy about? The weatherman says it's going to be a gorgeous weekend.”

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avery11: (flowers and moon on red)
2014-04-21 08:26 am

Beneath

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen AU




other 10AAAx



Beneath

 

He stands at the cabin door, barefoot, blue eyes bleary with fatigue, his faded jeans and ancient Aran sweater scant protection against the chill morning air. The sweater has seen better days, and the yarn is beginning to unravel in places. Frayed threads dangle from the hem like unanswered questions.

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avery11: (flowers and moon on red)
2014-04-21 08:19 am

The Blue Door

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
written for MFUWSS Easter Egg Challenge 2014

windmill tulips 4



The Blue Door
 

Illya pedaled down the narrow lane, jacket unbuttoned and flapping, leaving the coastal village of Grootje behind. The wheels of his borrowed bicycle raised up little clouds of dust in his wake. It felt good to be on the move again.

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avery11: (Kai cat)
2014-01-05 11:38 am
Entry tags:

Lullaby

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
For Eilidhsd, because I promised you a story.



l



Lullaby

Number 8,” the elderly desk clerk wheezed, handing Napoleon the key. “Last cabin on the left. That'll be $6.49.”

Napoleon handed over the cash and waited patiently while the man, hands gnarled with age, counted out the change.

Behind him, Illya paced restlessly, fingering the brochures on the “Things To Do in Central Maine” rack with disinterest, and watching the snow fall outside the lobby's bay window. “Is there anyplace to eat around here?” he asked.

Ay-yuh.”

He waited, but it appeared no further information was forthcoming. “Where?”

Well now –” The old man scratched his head. “– there's Connie's Diner. It's down the road a piece, next to the Bait and Tackle. Ay-yuh. Connie makes a nice fish chowdah on Tuesdays.”

That sounds perfect. Could you please give us directions?”

I could,” the man replied, “but 'twon't do ya no good.”

Why not?”

Diner's closed foah the wintah. Ay-yuh.”

Illya sighed.

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avery11: (Kai cat)
2014-01-02 10:39 am

Oh, Christmas Tree (Part 2)

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
(Written for DTC 2013. Posted in two parts due to LJ size constraints. This is Part 2.

Link to part 1: http://avery11.livejournal.com/40423.html


NY SNOW 2

Oh, Christmas Tree!

(Part 2)


Illya reset the alarm and reclaimed his seat on the Barcalounger. He tried to concentrate on the music – a mellow improvisational track by Duke Ellington – but his restless mind refused to relax. He couldn't stop thinking about Napoleon, out there alone, struggling to dismantle a bomb as the seconds ticked away. I should be there, he thought, feeling angry and frustrated. To make matters worse, the pain medication he'd taken earlier in the evening was wearing off. He ached all over, and his head felt ready to explode at any second.

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avery11: (Kai cat)
2014-01-02 10:30 am

Oh, Christmas Tree! (Part 1)

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen

(Written for DTC 2013. Posted in two parts due to LJ size constraints. This is Part I)

Oh, Christmas Tree! 1



Oh, Christmas Tree!

(Part I)

Dr. Rousseau attached the final piece of tape, securing the thick white bandage covering Illya's eyes. He stepped back with a sigh. “We've done all we can for now,” he said. “Go home and get some rest, Mr. Kuryakin. Let nature do its work.”

Illya reached up, feeling the soft, woven texture of the gauze under his fingers, and the heat of the injured flesh beneath the dressing. He traced the singed brows, the cheeks, scored with dozens of tiny cuts from flying debris, and the nasal bone, broken when he fell. His fingers paused, trembling, above the eyes, reliving the blinding flash of green light that had exploded all around him – the last thing he saw before his world went dark. After that came the terror, that awful, floating panic, and Napoleon's voice screaming at him to get up, get clear of the blast zone.

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avery11: (Default)
2013-10-31 04:12 pm

Dorje Drak

Title: Dorje Drak
Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
Written for Scrapbook's Halloween Challenge 2013

 


aa




Dorje Drak

November, 1967.

The sun slipped behind white-capped Chomolungma, highest of the Himalayas, Goddess Mother of the World, casting the frozen landscape into shadow. A few flakes of snow had begun to fall, swirling and tumbling in the bitter wind. In the distance, Illya could see vultures circling over the ravine where he and Napoleon had stood a few hours earlier, the ravine where Chow Fat and his team of THRUSH assassins now lay dead.

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avery11: (Kai cat)
2013-10-31 03:59 pm

Pandora's Box

Title: Pandora's Box
Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
written for Scrapbook's Halloween Challenge 2013

aaa


Pandora's Box

October 22, 1962.

The UNCLE Commissary was crowded – unusually so, considering the lateness of the hour. People huddled together at the tables, drinking endless cups of coffee and whispering in hushed tones about the Soviet missiles discovered in Cuba, and the likelihood of war if Khruschev refused to back down.

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avery11: (Kai cat)
2013-10-31 03:55 pm

Collected Works

Title: Collected Works
Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
Written for Scrapbook's Halloween Challenge 2013




aaaa


Collected Works

Illya gazed up at the imposing facade of the manor, its Gothic turrets framed against a storm-drenched sky. Lightning flashed, illuminating the crumbling stones for an instant; the torches flickered in their sconces.

You would think the owners of this grand mansion could afford proper electric lights,” he observed with some annoyance.

Offends your sensibility, does it?” Napoleon chuckled. “Personally, I think torchlight gives the place a homey touch. Chez Frankenstein.”

READ ON IF YOU DARE.... )

avery11: (white cat)
2013-04-01 10:54 am

SUNSET

Author: Avery11
Genre:Slash

To be happy takes a lifetime, for one sparrow does not make Spring.”
Aristotle

SUNSET 1


Sunset

They lounged on the porch of the cliffside cottage they had built, watching the sun set over the waters of Limestone Bay. Below them on the beach, a frigatebird preened, wings outstretched, its soft red belly exposed. Tradewinds rustled the nearby palm trees, shaking loose a few fronds. Illya threw his head back, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of acacia blossoms. He felt utterly free, pleasantly sated, magnificently content.

He touched the simple silver ring adorning his left hand, the first jewelry he had worn since losing his plain gold band during the Thor Affair so many years ago. He twisted the ring this way and that, feeling its solidity, reliving the moment when Napoleon had slipped it onto his finger. Married. We are married. Legally! It was indeed a brave new world.

He glanced over at Napoleon, snoring softly in his wicker lounge chair. In retirement, his face was relaxed, peaceful, as though he hadn't a care in the world. Illya decided that it was worth waiting forty years just to see him like that. He thought about waking him, but relented. After all, we were up half the night. And at our age! The thought made him blush with pleasure.

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avery11: (Default)
2013-01-02 07:43 am

SILENT NIGHT

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
written for DtC 9 Challenge





SILENT NIGHT



Silent Night

Napoleon dragged his injured partner through the gathering darkness, every sense alert for sounds of pursuit -- the crunch of footsteps in the deep snow or worse, the dreaded snarl of snowmobiles closing in.

Nothing. Silence enveloped them.

Snow continued to fall, fat flakes swirling soundlessly down, covering the Vermont countryside in a thick blanket of white. Ice coated the trees; their glittering branches bent like bowstrings under the weight. Against the unforgiving whiteness, the agents' bright blue parkas stood out like beacons.

A snap!

Napoleon spun around, Walther cocked and ready, but it was only the branch of an elm tree cracking under the weight of snow and ice. It fell to the ground with a hollow thud. He sighed, and replaced his weapon in its holster.

A few yards ahead, the forest ended. From here on, it was open country in every direction, an endless succession of rolling hills and farmland. They were miles from a major city, their communicators gone, at the mercy of the elements and their THRUSH trackers.

Not the best way to spend Christmas Eve.


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avery11: (basset hound)
2012-12-30 04:46 am
Entry tags:

WAITING

Author: Avery11
Genre: Slash, also explicit Het
A gift for Svetlanacat, to say thank you for all the lovely photos and gorgeous manips she's given us over the years. This story is inspired by one of her photos. The opening pic is from Lisa' s Screencaps Library.


WAITING



Waiting

He is not coming.

I did not expect him to, not really. It is New Year's Eve after all, and he has his women to amuse him, dozens of them, beautiful and smart and willing. More than enough women to keep him occupied.

Still, I had hoped...

“Bartender, another vodka, if you please.”


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