avery11: (flowers and moon on red)

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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Beneath

21/4/14 08:26
avery11: (flowers and moon on red)
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)
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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SUNSET

1/4/13 10:54
avery11: (white cat)

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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