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Way back when, I was an UNCLE fan. I got caught when TNT started playing all the eps in the late eighties, and bought a few zines. "City of Byzantium" by Eros knocked my socks off, and I really wanted to write some UNCLE. I had met a few people, and they wanted to publish some zines, and so I wrote a few incredibly short, just-long-enough-to-get-a-comp-copy stories that were published in a zine called "Exposures", under my 'Alys' pen name. The zines are bad -- they had no editing -- but there was usually a story by Eros in them, and that made it all worth while to me.

(Besides, at the time I had just started writing and really didn't have a clue what I was doing. My skill level was just about average for what else was published there.)

And all of that is to warn you about this. I tried to leave it much as it was, but I did fix the epithet thing, and I did muck with the POV. Still, the concept is tried and true. Everyone needs a virgin sacrifices at dawn sort of story.



The Zippity-Do-Dah Affair
(Originally published under 'Alys' in Exposures.)


It was supposed to have been a vacation.

"You are both to take two weeks off, starting immediately," Waverly had said. "We have a safe-house in Maine you can use. It's rather agreeable this time of year, what with fall just starting. I'm sure the two of you will enjoy it." He hadn't even bothered to dismiss them, immediately turning back to read his report.

Napoleon had to admit it had sounded nice. Get away from the city, do a little fishing, some hiking, rough it a bit, all without getting shot at. But the devil appears in threes, or so his grandmother said. First there was the turbulent, cramped flight up here, making him so sick he couldn't drive. Second had been that accident with the deer. Third...

"This looks bad." Illya's whisper jerked him back to the present.

"That's an understatement." Napoleon tried shifting his position but couldn't. "You know, I never realized how cold Maine is. I'm freezing."

"Try Siberia."

Illya had an answer for everything.

Napoleon tried to think when he had been in similar circumstances. THRUSH usually didn't bother to strip them before tying them up. The bonfire blazed up, and he was able to catch a glimpse of their captors. Firelight danced across her sharp features as the priestess circled them, but he couldn't move enough to keep track of her in the dim light. The stone altar beneath him felt like a solid sheet of ice as the chanting built to a crescendo. She thrust her arm into the air, creating instant silence among her seventy-plus followers.

Her black robes glided down her arms as she raised a long, serpentine knife over her head. She swayed slowly out into the crowd speaking in a forceful voice that seemed to echo in the near-darkness.

"Two strangers have trespassed onto our sacred grounds. They shall learn what it means to interfere." Napoleon watched her lips curve into a cruel smile. "They are to have the honor of participating in our rites."

The crowd roared their approval, sending an icy shiver ran down Napoleon's spine.

She gestured and the chanting started again. Bells shook and drums pounded as the black-covered forms began to weave in and around each other, intent on the ritual they were performing.

Napoleon was trying to untie his ropes, to little effect. He could Illya's movements pressed against his back. "Any luck?" he asked softly.

There was a moment's silence. "No. You?"

"No."

"I don't suppose you have a clever plan, do you?" Illya asked.

"Of course." He could practically feel Illya's expectation. "Lie back and think of England."

It wasn't a funny joke, and Illya's pained silence supported that fact.

"But we are generous!" The priestess shouted, drawing Napoleon's attention. She smiled wickedly and laid the knife down at her feet. "You shall feel no pain from our trials." Cow-bells and drums rang as two young girls in scarlet robes brought forth matching goblets filled with a milky-white liquid.

Napoleon shrugged, and drank.

*****

Illya squinted into the morning sun, trying to remember what had happened. Realization filtered into his brain. Napoleon! He was instantly on his feet, assessing the situation. He was in a forest, a sea of pine trees and underbrush, with no sign of a road nearby. Morning sounds filled the air, and in the distance he could hear a waterfall. Soon, a human groan joined the cacophony.

Triangulation brought him to his partner. Illya bent down and assessed the damage. Cuts and abrasions, mostly. No sign of any major injury. He stroked Napoleon's arm gently. "Are you all right?"

Napoleon's eyes fluttered with returning consciousness, and a slight smile appeared on the chapped lips. "Was it good for you?" he muttered.

Illya blushed. "Oh. Well, it could have been better."

Napoleon groaned as rolled onto his side. "Uhmm, the stone was a little cold."

"Not to mention hard."

Napoleon's grin was unrepentant. "I kind of liked that part."

Illya snorted. "You would." He hauled Napoleon to his feet. "Though how you came up with the idea..." He shook his head. Trust Napoleon to the think of something like that.

"Have you ever heard of Brer Rabbit?"

The name was vaguely familiar. He thought he'd seen it on a movie marquee in passing. "Isn't there a movie about that? Song of the South?" He didn't think he could feel more confused.

"It was a book first." Napoleon scanned the area distractedly. "I think our clothing is over there." He nodded toward the trees off to their right. "If our communicators are still working, we might be able to find out where in this god-forsaken country you crashed the car." He suited action to words and tried to stand.

"Napoleon!" Illya hauled him back down to the ground; Napoleon winced as his ass hit the dirt. "You will explain to me what a rabbit has to do with what happened last night."

Napoleon's gazed was infuriatingly tolerant, but not quite condescending. "Brer rabbit said 'Don't throw me into the briar patch'. So I borrowed his idea."

"But in front of seventy people?" Illya could feel his lips twitch.

Napoleon shrugged. "Why not?" He walked over to where he spotted their clothing, and rummaged through it. "Ah-Hah!" A silver cylinder appeared in his hands. He waved it at Illya. "Next time, I drive."

"Next time, we don't go to Maine."

"Deal." Napoleon's brown eyes glittered in the morning light. "How about sailing the Caribbean? It's warm, no deer to worry about, and what could go wrong?"

"Don't press your luck."

The end.

What about more?

Date: 2002-08-15 05:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lyrebird.livejournal.com
Hey, great to see that you've posted this up. Cute set-up, unfortunately no explicit sex (no, no, don't fade to black!) but some very promising dialogue.

What about the story you wrote for 'Rose Tint'? I hope you get around to putting it online too.

Re: What about more?

Date: 2002-08-15 04:11 pm (UTC)
ext_1637: (Default)
From: [identity profile] wickedwords.livejournal.com
LOL1 It took me awhile to work up to writing explict sex. Same thing with that whole 'longer than two thousand words' story thing. I do plan on putting up the rose tint story after I get a chance to work on it a bit, plus I have to make a whole uncle section on my webpage. *g* I'm looking forward to doing it actually; make me remember how much I loved them both.

Date: 2002-09-01 12:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] green-key.livejournal.com
Always good to see new IK/NS fiction. Very cute, and nice, fun by-play between the guys. Thanks for sharing. =)

Date: 2002-09-01 03:26 pm (UTC)
ext_1637: (Default)
From: [identity profile] wickedwords.livejournal.com
Hey, cool! Somebody read it. *g* You know, I'm being made happy by all these sudden, spontaneous appearances of MFU icons and comments. Almost makes me want to gojoin a list. *g*

Thanks.

Date: 2002-09-01 07:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] green-key.livejournal.com
Might another MFU icon encourage you? *g*

Just tossing these out, y'know, just in case you might want to wander...

channel_l

mfusslash


^_^

Date: 2002-09-02 09:44 am (UTC)
ext_1637: (Default)
From: [identity profile] wickedwords.livejournal.com
Okay, I'll *wander* a bit maybe. *g* I am being made very happy by the dash of UNCLE stuff I have been reading, and it will be lovely to rediscover things again.

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