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crack_van2010-06-13 12:30 pm
periwinkle27.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-06-13 12:30 pm
Entry tags:
The Waves of Change by LAH (PG-13)
Once again I am driving the Van for The Man From U.N.C.L.E. I apologize for the late start - I got tied up with other projects.
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Pairing: none, although Illya is married.
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
carabele
Author Website: Carabele Home Page
Why this must be read:
The plot starts out like many fluffy tales: Napoleon has promised his wife he will be home in time for his seventy-fifth birthday party. So when he doesn't show, Illya's and Napoleon's wives send Illya to look for him. But then the story begins to take a twist: Illya is stunned to find Napoleon in his office, being held a gunpoint by a woman who is invisible except for her head. Possibly even more amazing is that once Illya turns up the woman (a Thrush agent, of course) hands over her gun - wanting to be captured. Why? And what is her connection to Napoleon?
As the agents start questioning the female parts of their past start to come out - parts Napoleon would rather not remember. The plot gets deeper, the characters more complex and Carabele draws you into the story.
The smartly dressed and still handsome elderly man rubbed the fingers of one hand over his forehead. Seventy-five. He was three-quarters of a century old this day. And still he was fighting the same battle. Only now he fought it from behind a desk as Number 1 in Section I, Policy and Operations, of the North American division in the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement.
An unexpected musing slid into his brain regarding the inane fact that he liked his desk. It was a relic from the past that had been neatly fitted with all the necessities of modernity. Somewhat like himself, he mused further. Then more serious thoughts interjected themselves again.
[...]
Solo studied her for a long moment, leaning his chin on the hand of his arm that now rested on its elbow upon the surface of his desk. Illya saw the telltale signs of manipulation and scheming displayed, only to one who so well knew him, upon the familiar face of his friend, and he almost audibly sighed in sheer frustration. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He found this inflexible truth rising unbidden in his mind.
[...]
“Oh, I am well aware the man won’t win any personality prizes,” Illya pressed forward. “Indeed, I am distinctly aware of that fact since many years ago the dislike of colleagues in Section II was far from foreign to me personally.”
That frank outburst silenced Napoleon. He took a deep breath to simmer down his tightly leashed fury regarding Illya’s broach of the sore subject of Jack Valdar.
“You were different,” Solo finally hedged unsatisfactorily, his tone now normalized.
Illya shook his head, as always astounded by his friend’s unshakeable and sometimes blind allegiance to him, an allegiance that was just as unshakeable and often just as blind in himself toward Solo.
The Waves of Change
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Pairing: none, although Illya is married.
Author on LJ:
carabele Author Website: Carabele Home Page
Why this must be read:
The plot starts out like many fluffy tales: Napoleon has promised his wife he will be home in time for his seventy-fifth birthday party. So when he doesn't show, Illya's and Napoleon's wives send Illya to look for him. But then the story begins to take a twist: Illya is stunned to find Napoleon in his office, being held a gunpoint by a woman who is invisible except for her head. Possibly even more amazing is that once Illya turns up the woman (a Thrush agent, of course) hands over her gun - wanting to be captured. Why? And what is her connection to Napoleon?
As the agents start questioning the female parts of their past start to come out - parts Napoleon would rather not remember. The plot gets deeper, the characters more complex and Carabele draws you into the story.
The smartly dressed and still handsome elderly man rubbed the fingers of one hand over his forehead. Seventy-five. He was three-quarters of a century old this day. And still he was fighting the same battle. Only now he fought it from behind a desk as Number 1 in Section I, Policy and Operations, of the North American division in the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement.
An unexpected musing slid into his brain regarding the inane fact that he liked his desk. It was a relic from the past that had been neatly fitted with all the necessities of modernity. Somewhat like himself, he mused further. Then more serious thoughts interjected themselves again.
[...]
Solo studied her for a long moment, leaning his chin on the hand of his arm that now rested on its elbow upon the surface of his desk. Illya saw the telltale signs of manipulation and scheming displayed, only to one who so well knew him, upon the familiar face of his friend, and he almost audibly sighed in sheer frustration. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He found this inflexible truth rising unbidden in his mind.
[...]
“Oh, I am well aware the man won’t win any personality prizes,” Illya pressed forward. “Indeed, I am distinctly aware of that fact since many years ago the dislike of colleagues in Section II was far from foreign to me personally.”
That frank outburst silenced Napoleon. He took a deep breath to simmer down his tightly leashed fury regarding Illya’s broach of the sore subject of Jack Valdar.
“You were different,” Solo finally hedged unsatisfactorily, his tone now normalized.
Illya shook his head, as always astounded by his friend’s unshakeable and sometimes blind allegiance to him, an allegiance that was just as unshakeable and often just as blind in himself toward Solo.
The Waves of Change