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This is an answer to the prompt #086 from slashtheimage

 They huddled in the doorway to get out of the blast, his partner taking him in a tight embrace. He couldn't say how it happened. His lips brushed a warm neck, feeling blood pulsation, a scruffy cheek... and suddenly... lips. Ravenous lips. In the midst of apocalypse, they kissed passionately.

Then... they raced towards the reinforcement, came back to the HQ and... his partner acted as if nothing had happened.

The pencil he had been chewing, tormenting for hours broke.

Everyone make mistakes. That's why there is an eraser on every pencil.”

But some mistakes couldn't be fixed.

Stupid proverb.

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Drabble for a prompt from slashtheimage...

Go. Now!”

He shook his head. He couldn't run away, leaving the man he loved with this bomb.

It's no use. I'll take it out of the gallery...” Illya cracked a smile, “See you later.”

Napoleon persisted in shaking his head but the Russian crept in the narrow passage, the threatening box in his hands.

As Napoleon was about to go out, dust devils sprang from the walls and everything vibrated. He closed his eyes, breathless, the unbearable reality dawning on him.

Warm hand on his cheek.

I found an embrasure...”

Blues eyes, dusty face, boyish contentment...

Saved the world...”

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Christmas picfic challenge..; from section VII mfu...

Read more... )

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This is the story I wrote for the Down the Chimney challenge! It was for Spikesgirl. The prompt were cats, cherished Christmas ornament, Santa cookies...
Thanks to Sparky955 for betaing...


Read more... )
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I do hope that the crossposting will work... I tried since this morning to answer your messages but LJ is really in trouble. I noticed that for some reasons it worked better in some areas than in others... I'll try tomorrow!
Happy New Year!

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She chuckled. “Spiders? Probably! Fish soup, so?” And she left the room. Illya waved a pompous finger. “Ts ts... Spiders aren't insects! They're arthropods... Arachnids have...” He paused, waiting for the usual reaction but the other man was lost in thought. “Eight legs... Napoleon?”

He rested his hand on his friend's wrist, “We should have gone back home... I'm sorry. You're tired and...”

Napoleon shook his head, suddenly aware of his partner's worry. Stupid. He was stupid. He smiled, “I'm fine.” - Eyes rolled. “It's just... I had a strange nightmare and... Illya?”

The Russian frowned. “No... I thought... Oh, no....”


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They walked along the pier, lost in thought. Napoleon usually enjoyed to sail alone, free from work, free from the world...

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