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crack_van2009-04-27 07:54 pm
serenaar.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-04-27 07:54 pm
Entry tags:
Anytime by Taliesin (R)
Well, here we are at the penultimate rec of my month driving the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
crack_van.
Fandom: MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.
Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin
Length: 2,753 words
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: Taliesin's Reach
Why this must be read:
This rec is by Taliesin deals with what happens when two injured UNCLE agents are sent home from the infirmary to heal on their own. This plays on a recurring theme within fanfiction where one or both of the agents are injured and can be liable to get cliched.
In this case, Illya has a bandaged knee and is on crutches whereas Napoleon has bandaged hands. For me though, this fic manages to avoid most of the cliches and delivers an intimate look into our favourite agent's lives "off the screen" so to speak. Napoleon is peeved at Illya for getting them kicked out from the Infirmary but once back at Napoleon's apartment things start to get interesting :-)
The boys are on top form here, Napoleon getting annoyed because he is unable to take care of himself properly and Illya seems to be split between being helpful and being snarky (sometimes both!). Illya finally draws the line when Napoleon hasn't changed clothes for four days and manhandles his senior partner into the shower....
Illya paused in the kitchen doorway, stealing a moment to observe his partner. Napoleon was, quite frankly, a mess. His hair stuck up in odd directions, its usual gloss nowhere to be seen, and the dark stubble on his chin made him look the desperate sort. He was wearing sweat pants and a loose T-shirt; the same ones he'd been wearing for a good three or four days. Illya was willing to bet Napoleon had been sleeping in them too. Add to that his dull-eyed listlessness, and his condition was cause for some concern. More than the general air of neglect, however, the miasma of depression made Illya wince. He'd let this degenerate far enough.
"Get up, Napoleon." With the use of only one crutch, Illya made his way slowly to his partner's side and levered him to his feet with a strong hand on his elbow. "Come with me." Napoleon complied willingly, though he gave Illya an odd look. He balked, however, at the door to the bathroom. Illya proceeded in on his own and turned the tub faucets on. "Let's get you undressed and cleaned up."
Napoleon retreated from the reaching hands. "Stop babying me, Illya. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"Really? You don't seem to be doing a very good job of it." Illya ignored his partner's dark scowl and returned to the task at hand. First, he yanked Napoleon fully into the bathroom, taking advantage of his momentary unbalance to firmly close the door. He locked it for good measure. Backed up against the tub, Napoleon shook his head stubbornly. Illya advanced on him without mercy. "Come now, Napoleon. You're starting to get a bit ripe." He sighed in exasperation. "If you had some pretty female companion, you'd be milking this for all it's worth. Why is it easier to accept some strange woman's help than mine?"
"It's not the same." Napoleon protested automatically, losing the battle with Illya's determination. The bathroom was beginning to steam up, and he'd already been relieved of his shirt.
"No, it isn't," Illya agreed. "I'm not a 'cute chick.'" He pushed Napoleon down on the commode and pulled off his socks. So far, his reflexes had been up to the task, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could balance on one foot if Napoleon continued to resist.
"Half right," Napoleon murmured. Illya pretended not to hear, reaching instead to pull closed the curtains and start the shower. He turned back and placed his hands on Napoleon's bare shoulders, clasping the warm flesh firmly.
"I'm your partner, you dolt. It's not only my job to look after you, it's my right." His eyes met Napoleon's steadily until he felt the muscles under his hands start to relax. "Now stop fussing and stand up." And that was it; Napoleon suddenly became so cooperative Illya wasn't sure whether to cheer or faint.
Anytime
crack_van. Fandom: MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.
Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin
Length: 2,753 words
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: Taliesin's Reach
Why this must be read:
This rec is by Taliesin deals with what happens when two injured UNCLE agents are sent home from the infirmary to heal on their own. This plays on a recurring theme within fanfiction where one or both of the agents are injured and can be liable to get cliched.
In this case, Illya has a bandaged knee and is on crutches whereas Napoleon has bandaged hands. For me though, this fic manages to avoid most of the cliches and delivers an intimate look into our favourite agent's lives "off the screen" so to speak. Napoleon is peeved at Illya for getting them kicked out from the Infirmary but once back at Napoleon's apartment things start to get interesting :-)
The boys are on top form here, Napoleon getting annoyed because he is unable to take care of himself properly and Illya seems to be split between being helpful and being snarky (sometimes both!). Illya finally draws the line when Napoleon hasn't changed clothes for four days and manhandles his senior partner into the shower....
Illya paused in the kitchen doorway, stealing a moment to observe his partner. Napoleon was, quite frankly, a mess. His hair stuck up in odd directions, its usual gloss nowhere to be seen, and the dark stubble on his chin made him look the desperate sort. He was wearing sweat pants and a loose T-shirt; the same ones he'd been wearing for a good three or four days. Illya was willing to bet Napoleon had been sleeping in them too. Add to that his dull-eyed listlessness, and his condition was cause for some concern. More than the general air of neglect, however, the miasma of depression made Illya wince. He'd let this degenerate far enough.
"Get up, Napoleon." With the use of only one crutch, Illya made his way slowly to his partner's side and levered him to his feet with a strong hand on his elbow. "Come with me." Napoleon complied willingly, though he gave Illya an odd look. He balked, however, at the door to the bathroom. Illya proceeded in on his own and turned the tub faucets on. "Let's get you undressed and cleaned up."
Napoleon retreated from the reaching hands. "Stop babying me, Illya. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"Really? You don't seem to be doing a very good job of it." Illya ignored his partner's dark scowl and returned to the task at hand. First, he yanked Napoleon fully into the bathroom, taking advantage of his momentary unbalance to firmly close the door. He locked it for good measure. Backed up against the tub, Napoleon shook his head stubbornly. Illya advanced on him without mercy. "Come now, Napoleon. You're starting to get a bit ripe." He sighed in exasperation. "If you had some pretty female companion, you'd be milking this for all it's worth. Why is it easier to accept some strange woman's help than mine?"
"It's not the same." Napoleon protested automatically, losing the battle with Illya's determination. The bathroom was beginning to steam up, and he'd already been relieved of his shirt.
"No, it isn't," Illya agreed. "I'm not a 'cute chick.'" He pushed Napoleon down on the commode and pulled off his socks. So far, his reflexes had been up to the task, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could balance on one foot if Napoleon continued to resist.
"Half right," Napoleon murmured. Illya pretended not to hear, reaching instead to pull closed the curtains and start the shower. He turned back and placed his hands on Napoleon's bare shoulders, clasping the warm flesh firmly.
"I'm your partner, you dolt. It's not only my job to look after you, it's my right." His eyes met Napoleon's steadily until he felt the muscles under his hands start to relax. "Now stop fussing and stand up." And that was it; Napoleon suddenly became so cooperative Illya wasn't sure whether to cheer or faint.
Anytime
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http://www.fanficdepot.com/fanfic/debts.html