Requiem

The last sliver of sunlight disappeared behind the Cairngorm Mountains, casting the ancient Caledonian forest into shadow. In the distance, the silver waters of Loch Druie faded into darkness.

A light rain had begun the previous evening, around the time that Illya and Napoleon were busy blowing up yet another THRUSH doomsday weapon, this one under construction at a secret base outside the quaint village of Kinnain in the Scottish Highlands. Now the light rain had become an icy deluge, washing out roads from Aberdeen to Inverness, forcing them to reroute through the ancient forest to their planned extraction point at Aviemore.

Mud-splattered and soaked to the skin, the men slogged their way through the dark forest, stumbling over fallen branches and rotting logs in their haste. Their clothing snagged on patches of bramble and spiny thistle. The thick fog rolling in made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of them. They groped their way forward like blind men.

“Our clever escape plan seems to have gone awry,” Illya observed archly. He swiped at the cascade of water dripping into his eyes. “Perhaps it is time to switch to Plan B.”

“This is Plan B,” Napoleon snapped. "Plan A was our lovely, warm rental car, which is currently floating down the River Spey in the direction of Nethy Bridge.”

“Ah yes, the rental car. Mr. Waverly will not be pleased to hear that we destroyed yet another vehicle. I do not envy you, having to explain the loss of a perfectly good Renault.”

The senior agent winced. Yeah, I don’t envy me, either.


CONTINUE READING AT AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72606661

Author’s Note: Written for MFUWSS Easter Egg Challenge 2024
A gift for Akane42me: Her prompts: postcard, wild strawberries
Gen, but can also be read as pre-slash. The story will work either way.

The House On Savile Row

A clap of thunder announced Napoleon and Illya’s entry into the lobby of London’s posh Dorchester Hotel. Drenched and shivering, blue with cold, they squelched a path to the front desk, leaving a trail of muddy bootprints on the lobby’s pristine marble floor. Guests scrambled out of their way, wrinkling their upturned noses at the foul aroma emanating from the men’s filthy attire.

Napoleon met their stares head-on. “Lovely weather we’re having, wot, wot?” he declared, flashing his thousand-watt smile. The guests suddenly found a dozen more interesting things to look at.

They approached the Front Desk Manager, who had followed their progress across the lobby with dismay. “May I help you, er…gentlemen?” he inquired, pasting on a smile.

“Solo and Kuryakin, checking in.” 

“We have reservations,” Illya added, and  sneezed, raining water droplets everywhere.

*/*/*/

READ MORE ON AO3:   https://archiveofourown.org/works/54797698

Note: This story can be read as Gen or Slash, depending on your preference.

                                                                      Toward Home

                                                                             by

                                                                                                      Avery11

The farmers’ market in the little village of Les Vignes sur Mer was busy, typical for an afternoon in late September. The crowd, mostly locals, wandered from stall to stall, filling totes and baskets with the last of summer’s bounty—aubergines and vine-ripened tomatoes, sweet Provençal peaches and jars of lavender honey.

Illya accepted a sack of nectarines from Monsieur Armengaud, and passed over a handful of euros with a sigh. “These prices, Maurice—a scandal.”

“Oui, Monsieur,” the portly vendeur chuckled, stepping into his accustomed role. “More expensive every season.” It was an old joke between them.

Illya inhaled the wild, fruity scent of the nectarines, and his face relaxed into a smile. “But worth the sacrifice of a few euros, I suppose.”

“Naturellement!”

Their weekly ritual thus completed, Illya slid the nectarines into his basket beside a jar of tapenade, some lovely chanterelles and a bottle of the local wine, and started up the long hill toward home.

*/*/*/

Read the rest of the story on AO3.

READ MORE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50732242

(Note: This is another reprint of an old story that LJ apparently ate.)
Warning, character death, but not one of the guys, I promise.

For Glennagirl, who asked for a story to fit the sad mood of the George Harrison ballad, Just For Today. The song link appears at the end of the story.

The entire story can be found HERE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3264266

London, 1959

The first time Illya saw her, she was standing on the front stoop of the London apartment building where he lived, a broken umbrella clutched in one hand, trying to haul open the security door so she could drag a pair of battered suitcases and a cello inside. His first thought was that it was an enterprise doomed to failure. The door was heavy and prone to sticking, and the young woman looked like she weighed about a hundred pounds, sopping wet. Which she was, at the moment, since it was raining. His second thought was to wonder whether she might be a THRUSH.

Only one way to find out.

*/*/*/

Note: This is a reprint of an old story that LJ apparently ate at some point.
The entire story can be found HERE:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/3351797

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen

Shattered

Link takes you to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6304861

Author’s Note: This is a three-part series. I wrote the first section nearly two years ago, and promised to finish the series as soon as possible. My apologies for the delay but here, finally, is the rest of the tale.

The entire story may be read as either Gen or Slash, and will make perfect sense, whichever filter you use. Love is love is love.

Part I is here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/812076

Part II is here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12816015

Part III is here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12816027

                               Farewell Tour

                                      (Part 2)

Author’s Note: This is a three-part series. I wrote the first part nearly two years ago, and promised to finish the series as soon as possible. My apologies for the delay but RL can be unpredictable. Here, finally, is the rest of the tale.

The entire story may be read as either Gen or Slash, and will make perfect sense, whichever filter you use. Love is love is love.

Part I is here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/812076

Part II is here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12816015

Part III is here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12816027

                            Farewell Tour
                                      Part 3

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
(written for Down the Chimney Challenge 2016)

Storm of the Century

Link takes you to AO3:  http://archiveofourown.org/works/8853463

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen
(written for Scrapbook Halloween Challenge 2016)

Tales From the Crypt

(Link takes you to AO3) http://archiveofourown.org/works/8372350

Author: Avery11
Genre: Gen

A Valentine Story for SSClassof56
Prompt: Pride and Prejudice

A little birdie told me that your Valentine story got lost in the mail, so here's a new one for you, with my very best wishes.

Courtship Dance

LINK takes you to AO3:   http://archiveofourown.org/works/6588613