Man From U.N.C.L.E. Ficlet: Turnabout Is Fair Play
Title: Turnabout Is Fair Play
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Illya Kuryakin, Napoleon Solo.
Rating: G
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Illya is in trouble again, but Napoleon is there to carry out a timely rescue.
Word Count: 313
Written For: philomytha’s prompt ‘Man From UNCLE, Napoleon/Illya, taking turns rescuing each other,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Man From U.N.C.L.E., or the characters. They belong to their creators.
“Ah, there you are, Illya. I was wondering where you’d gotten to. Just hanging around, I see. How’s the view from up there.”
Dangling from the ceiling suspended by his wrists, Illya didn’t look overly impressed by his friend’s quip. “Napoleon, would you get me down from here please? Preferably before my arms become long enough that I can reach the floor by myself.”
“Since you asked so nicely…” Napoleon untied the rope that was holding Illya several feet above the ground, lowering him until he could stand, then set about freeing his wrists. “So, this time I get to be the rescuer while you’re the rescue-ee.”
Illya shook his hands and arms, trying to get the blood circulating again, wincing as sensation returned.
“Yes, yes, and next time I’ll be the one rescuing you. Again.”
“It’s only fair. Funny how it always seems to work out that way, don’t you think? Taking turns rescuing each other, I mean.”
“Except for those occasions when we both get captured and have to rely on someone else to rescue us.”
“Granted, that does happen from time to time,” Napoleon agreed, casting his gaze around the cellar they were in. “What say we get out of here before either of us needs rescuing again?”
“That would probably be wise. After you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to take the lead? Because I don’t mind…”
“Napoleon, I was unconscious and wearing a blindfold when I was brought here. Since you found me, I’m assuming you have a better idea of how to get out than I.”
Wagging one finger at Illya, Napoleon smirked. “You might have a point. Follow me.”
Illya shook his head. Napoleon seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much; when they got out of here he should probably check that his fellow U.N.C.L.E. agent hadn’t been hit over the head. Again.
The End
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Illya Kuryakin, Napoleon Solo.
Rating: G
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Illya is in trouble again, but Napoleon is there to carry out a timely rescue.
Word Count: 313
Written For: philomytha’s prompt ‘Man From UNCLE, Napoleon/Illya, taking turns rescuing each other,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Man From U.N.C.L.E., or the characters. They belong to their creators.
“Ah, there you are, Illya. I was wondering where you’d gotten to. Just hanging around, I see. How’s the view from up there.”
Dangling from the ceiling suspended by his wrists, Illya didn’t look overly impressed by his friend’s quip. “Napoleon, would you get me down from here please? Preferably before my arms become long enough that I can reach the floor by myself.”
“Since you asked so nicely…” Napoleon untied the rope that was holding Illya several feet above the ground, lowering him until he could stand, then set about freeing his wrists. “So, this time I get to be the rescuer while you’re the rescue-ee.”
Illya shook his hands and arms, trying to get the blood circulating again, wincing as sensation returned.
“Yes, yes, and next time I’ll be the one rescuing you. Again.”
“It’s only fair. Funny how it always seems to work out that way, don’t you think? Taking turns rescuing each other, I mean.”
“Except for those occasions when we both get captured and have to rely on someone else to rescue us.”
“Granted, that does happen from time to time,” Napoleon agreed, casting his gaze around the cellar they were in. “What say we get out of here before either of us needs rescuing again?”
“That would probably be wise. After you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to take the lead? Because I don’t mind…”
“Napoleon, I was unconscious and wearing a blindfold when I was brought here. Since you found me, I’m assuming you have a better idea of how to get out than I.”
Wagging one finger at Illya, Napoleon smirked. “You might have a point. Follow me.”
Illya shook his head. Napoleon seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much; when they got out of here he should probably check that his fellow U.N.C.L.E. agent hadn’t been hit over the head. Again.
The End