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crack_van2010-02-28 05:15 pm
periwinkle27.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-02-28 05:15 pm
Entry tags:
The Triangle Affair by Utopian Trunks (NC-17)
Fandom: Man From Uncle
Pairing: Napoleon/Illya and Illya/omc
Word Count: roughly 46,000
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
utopiantrunks
Author Website: East of Sanity
Why this must be read:
Napoleon is temporarily out of commission so Illya must work with agent Wstcott. While Illya finds him attractive, Napoleon finds him anything but. And as Illya worries about his mission - could a Thrush agent really take a vacation? - Napoleon worries about getting out of the hospital and getting to Illya. Westcott isn't helping either by making suggestive comments as to what he and Illya have been up to in the hotel. And then Illya issues a distress call...
I think the writing in this is just beautiful. Lovely and almost poetic with little bits of humor interspersed.
"Good morning, sunshine," said Napoleon, with all the cheer afforded by an hour time difference. "What's new in the south of France?"
"Imminent revolution over the rampant abuse of power by the bourgeoisie."
"Are you fomenting, again?"
"No, you are. What on earth do you want at this hour?" Illya scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand and peered across at the other queen bed. It was empty and made. Illya sincerely hoped Westcott was somewhere procuring breakfast and coffee.
"Just checking in on my favorite secret agent. I have to make sure you're not getting into trouble without my supervision."
Illya narrowed his eyes at the communicator. "We're going to Casablanca."
"On the road to Morocco, eh?" Illya could hear him grin. "Has anyone ever told you moonlight becomes you?"
"Yes," said Illya. "Last night, as a matter of fact."
There was a momentary silence on the other end. "Who?" Napoleon spluttered.
Illya grunted and made to twist the communicator shut.
"Westcott!" Napoleon exclaimed. "That slime! You watch him, Illya! You watch him like a hawk! He's a no-good, weasel-faced, underhanded rat! Beware--"
"Mr. Westcott," Illya said archly, "is Number 8 in Section 2. I sincerely hope that when I have cause to be wary of Number 8, I will have been demoted to Number 9." He was stuffing the communicator vehemently under his pillow when the signal knock sounded at the door and Westcott entered.
He had coffee and baked goods. Illya was not immune to that, either.
The Triangle Affair
Pairing: Napoleon/Illya and Illya/omc
Word Count: roughly 46,000
Author on LJ:
utopiantrunksAuthor Website: East of Sanity
Why this must be read:
Napoleon is temporarily out of commission so Illya must work with agent Wstcott. While Illya finds him attractive, Napoleon finds him anything but. And as Illya worries about his mission - could a Thrush agent really take a vacation? - Napoleon worries about getting out of the hospital and getting to Illya. Westcott isn't helping either by making suggestive comments as to what he and Illya have been up to in the hotel. And then Illya issues a distress call...
I think the writing in this is just beautiful. Lovely and almost poetic with little bits of humor interspersed.
"Good morning, sunshine," said Napoleon, with all the cheer afforded by an hour time difference. "What's new in the south of France?"
"Imminent revolution over the rampant abuse of power by the bourgeoisie."
"Are you fomenting, again?"
"No, you are. What on earth do you want at this hour?" Illya scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand and peered across at the other queen bed. It was empty and made. Illya sincerely hoped Westcott was somewhere procuring breakfast and coffee.
"Just checking in on my favorite secret agent. I have to make sure you're not getting into trouble without my supervision."
Illya narrowed his eyes at the communicator. "We're going to Casablanca."
"On the road to Morocco, eh?" Illya could hear him grin. "Has anyone ever told you moonlight becomes you?"
"Yes," said Illya. "Last night, as a matter of fact."
There was a momentary silence on the other end. "Who?" Napoleon spluttered.
Illya grunted and made to twist the communicator shut.
"Westcott!" Napoleon exclaimed. "That slime! You watch him, Illya! You watch him like a hawk! He's a no-good, weasel-faced, underhanded rat! Beware--"
"Mr. Westcott," Illya said archly, "is Number 8 in Section 2. I sincerely hope that when I have cause to be wary of Number 8, I will have been demoted to Number 9." He was stuffing the communicator vehemently under his pillow when the signal knock sounded at the door and Westcott entered.
He had coffee and baked goods. Illya was not immune to that, either.
The Triangle Affair
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