Continuing the story…


Illya knew that it was time for him to try something different.  Simply struggling to run away from his pursuers wasn’t working.  He was getting tired.  He pushed through the thick brush, dragging his injured leg behind him.

Praying that they would either assume he’d lost them in the brush or hidden there, Illya scrambled up into the branches of a tree.  It was, by no means, easy.  His injured leg hampered his progress.  However, finally, he was hidden in the thick leafy growth of the branches.

Stifling a sigh, he leaned back against the trunk and closed his eyes.



This is the beginning of a series of drabbles that tell a little story…


Illya was well aware that he was leaving a trail that a blind man could follow.  However, also didn’t see what else he could have done.  His leg ached too much for him to walk properly, which forced him to drag it.  If there were a road or rocks to move over, he might have a better chance to hide his trail.  In this loose leaf-litter…

He heaved a sigh, pushing the thoughts away.  He needed to focus on getting away.  With the trail he was leaving, hiding wasn’t an option.  That left him with escape.  The question was: how?


This is a little scene inspired by the fourth season episode of The Man from UNCLE, “The Thrush Roulette Affair”.


So much of their work was about taking risks.  Illya had accepted long ago that, every time he went into the field, he could be killed.  He also knew from experience that there were things far worse than death.

However, he never imagined that anyone would be able to turn him against Napoleon.  They’d been through too much.  He trusted Napoleon to watch his back and Napoleon had to trust him to do the same.

“Are we all right?” he asked, frowning.

Napoleon nodded.  “I took a gamble that the programming wouldn’t stick.  I was right,” he said.

“I’m glad.”


This is kind of like a missing scene from “The Dippy Blonde Affair” from the second season of The Man from UNCLE.


Illya stood in the pouring rain, frowning at Napoleon.  “Really?” he breathed.  Heaving a sigh, he shook his head as if to shake the water away.  He laughed to himself.  That wasn’t going to help!

He stalked over to the car and rapped on the window, startling the occupants.  Leaning down to peer in through the glass, he said, “Thanks for the rescue.”

Napoleon grimaced and slid away from the woman.  As Illya climbed inside, he said, “Hurt?”

“No,” Illya said.  “I’m fine.  Aren’t I always?”  He stifled a sneeze and then gave Napoleon a flat-eyed stare.  “Call it in?”


This little scene was inspired by “The Apple a Day Affair” in the third season of The Man from UNCLE – sort of my take on why Illya didn’t want to have a bite of that apple.


Illya watched Colonel Picks pluck the apple off the pile of produce.  He felt a tremor of fear that he fought to hide.  He didn’t want this man to know he was afraid.  After all, he was a top-notch UNCLE agent.  It was bad enough they’d captured him so easily.  It was bad enough they had him there, tied and virtually helpless.  He had a reputation to uphold.  He couldn’t show fear.

His eyes closed as Picks forced the bite of apple into his mouth.  It tasted sweet and, more importantly, it didn’t explode.  He restrained a sigh of relief.


This scene was inspired by “The Concrete Overcoat Affair” in the third season of The Man from UNCLE.


At first, Illya wasn’t sure what to expect when he was brought to see the defenses that Thrush had set up around the island.  Given his treatment so far, what made Strago think that he might care how the island was defended?

He frowned slightly as he peered into the telescope.  He saw the little speedboat racing towards the island.  Then, his blood ran cold.  It could only be one person manning those controls.  He tensed as the defenses were activated.  His heart plummeted as the boat exploded.  Could anyone could survive that?  He prayed that Napoleon’s infamous luck held.


Continuing yesterday’s story…


Illya was sitting, rather dejectedly, on the bottom of the bubble.  Napoleon had tried everything to break him out.  Bullets had bounced off, nearly killing him.  A knife had glanced harmlessly off the side.  Finally, he had just taken Illya – inside the bubble – back to UNCLE headquarters.  The scientists there hadn’t had any better luck.

“I’ll starve to death in a bubble,” he said, miserably.

Napoleon heaved a sigh.  “Thrush must have had a way to burst it,” he argued.

“They’ve tried everything, but…” Illya trailed off.  “Harmonics?  Could it be that easy?”

“Sound shattered your glasses…”

“It might work.”


This is a little story that I’ve started, told in drabbles (so far).  Thrush always seems to come up with insane traps and this just seemed like something they might do…


Thrush was an odd bunch.  Illya had decided that long ago.  Attacks with exploding milk, bread or apples were a clue to that.  This trap, however, took the cake!

He frowned at the barrier.  He pounded a fist against it, causing it to ring like a bell.  He pressed against it and the bubble rolled forward.  He tumbled head over heels, until the bubble came to rest in a corner of the room.

He looked up as Napoleon stepped into the room.  “Help?”

Napoleon blinked at him and then frowned.  Heaving a sigh, he asked, “How do I do that?”


When I saw this prompt, I immediately thought of the character from “The Cherry Blossom Affair” on The Man from UNCLE.


Illya had to wonder about Mr. Waverly.  How was he able to scoop lovely young women away from Napoleon so easily?  What was it about his offer that had Cricket so interested that she’d forget his friend?  Perhaps she thought she could come and work for UNCLE.  They did make movies in the Propaganda section, didn’t they?

He offered to hear Napoleon’s story, mostly to get a rise out of his friend.  Then, he moved to his feet.  “He’s a married man and he flirts as badly as you,” he said, blandly.

“But… Cricket,” Napoleon said, sadly.

Illya just shrugged.


Just a random little drabble about the changing seasons, from Illya’s point of view.


Illya made his way slowly through the park.  He smiled as the wind ruffled through his hair.  It shook leaves from the trees to scatter them on the pavement.  Some swirled around, passing his feet as he walked.

He knew that some people didn’t like the end of summer.  However, he saw it coming with eager anticipation.  He already needed a light coat in the mornings and evenings.  The leaves were turning from green to gold and red.  He knew what that meant and he couldn’t help but smile.

After the leaves had fallen, there would be snow as well.

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries