“Victor Marton is arrogant. He’ll make a mistake.” Illya scraped up his last bite of dessert and glanced across the table. “Aren’t you going to finish that?”
“The conventional wisdom is that arrogance leads to errors, at least for most mortals. And, no.” Napoleon looked regretfully at his barely touched blueberry cheesecake. “If I overeat, I’ll regret it. How do you convert calories to brain power, not fat?”
“It’s a gift.” Illya’s eyes sparkled as he reached for the plate.
“No time.” A crash resounded from the private club’s kitchen, and Napoleon grinned at his partner’s pout. “That’s our signal.”
Well, here’s my attempt, from my only fandom as always…
“Illya, I believe you have become a convert.” Napoleon smiled, watching his partner finish another plate from the buffet. “A convert? To what?” Partaking of the buffet in the private dining room of the Winsome Pines Country Club was less a dinner invitation for Illya; it was more a challenge to overeat, Napoleon thought. “A convert to capitalism, tovarisch.” “I could not live this arrogant lifestyle,” Kuryakin snorted. “I am satisfied with the most conventional surroundings.” To Solo’s amusement, he finished his third dessert and stood. “Now what?” asked Napoleon. “Now, to find a place to crash,” the Russian yawned.
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Thanks so much. :DD
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“Victor Marton is arrogant. He’ll make a mistake.” Illya scraped up his last bite of dessert and glanced across the table. “Aren’t you going to finish that?”
“The conventional wisdom is that arrogance leads to errors, at least for most mortals. And, no.” Napoleon looked regretfully at his barely touched blueberry cheesecake. “If I overeat, I’ll regret it. How do you convert calories to brain power, not fat?”
“It’s a gift.” Illya’s eyes sparkled as he reached for the plate.
“No time.” A crash resounded from the private club’s kitchen, and Napoleon grinned at his partner’s pout. “That’s our signal.”
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At least Illya got to finish his. :DD Great job!
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I know what you mean!
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“Illya, I believe you have become a convert.” Napoleon smiled, watching his partner finish another plate from the buffet.
“A convert? To what?” Partaking of the buffet in the private dining room of the Winsome Pines Country Club was less a dinner invitation for Illya; it was more a challenge to overeat, Napoleon thought.
“A convert to capitalism, tovarisch.”
“I could not live this arrogant lifestyle,” Kuryakin snorted. “I am satisfied with the most conventional surroundings.” To Solo’s amusement, he finished his third dessert and stood.
“Now what?” asked Napoleon.
“Now, to find a place to crash,” the Russian yawned.
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Hey, taking advantage of the moment at hand is very practical! He never knows when his next meal might be. :D Good job!
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And I enjoyed Spike!
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Thank you.
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Really well done.
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Thanks so very much! :DD
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