The Lovecraft Affair
Chapter 18

by Jadwol



Disclaimer
This is a work of amature fiction, no contravention of copyright is intended and no profit is made from this endeavour.


Ariadne swung furiously around. "What do you mean you can't find him? He can not leave the estate, find him. Now!" She thundered at the two acolytes. With a deep bow they left the room. Solo it had to be, why couldn't he just leave things alone? He had no idea what he was doing or who he was doing it to. She smiled a feral smile. She was going to make sure he found out first hand.

Waverly shook his head as if coming out of a daze, he was holding the button to his communications panel but he could not remember who he had been talking to. He was about to check the call log when the alarms went off from Del Floria's agents entrance.

The efficient men and women went into action; four Section two agents stationed themselves in front of Waverly's office, every other section two agents went to their assigned duties. The six agents burst through the sliding door expecting to be doing battle with Thrush and stopped stunned at the site of the elderly gray haired women.

"I want to speak to Alexander." She said with a heavy Russian accent.

The secretary at the desk handed the man in charge the phone.

"Bring Ms. Ramankosky to my office immediately." Waverly ordered gruffly.

"Yes, sir." The agent replied. He looked at the others.

"Stand down, return to your duties. Madame if you will follow me I will escort you to Mr. Waverly's office." With a nod she allowed the women at the desk to pin on the white badge then followed the young man. She watched the older man with sharp eyes as he thanked and dismissed the younger agent that had brought her to him. They stared at each other for a few seconds.

"What have you done?" She said. He looked at her uncomprehending.

"I have done nothing..." Her eyes widened, she began to chant as she slowly placed her hands on his face. He tried to pull away but she held him firmly as her voice rose higher it was several minutes later that she released him. He looked at her stunned for a moment then dived towards the communication panel. "Mr. Holden cancel the retrieval order, do you copy?" There was a second's delay.

"Mr. Waverly, you want us to stand down sir?"

"Yes Mr. Holden."

"Yes sir." The agent replied. Alexander Waverly turned to the woman.

"How, no thank you I didn't even realize. Thank you for coming." He actually stuttered. Dark eyes appraised him the wrinkled face broke into a broad grin.

"Tell me about Napoleon." She demanded.

Illya pulled him towards the bed and Napoleon followed but stopped short. "No, let's take the mattress off the bed and move it into the sunlight. You my friend were meant to be loved in the full brilliance of the sun." The smaller man blushed but helped pull the mattress into the sunlight streaming into the window. Napoleon pulled him into his arms and nuzzled his neck. "Mmh, you smell so good, like spring on a warm day." Illya pulled his head up to reply but was stopped by the gentle kiss the other man gave him. Several minutes later they came up for air.

"Oh! That was nice." The blonde murmured. Solo chuckled.

"It is going to get a lot nicer." He promised as he tightens his grip, his hands ran up and down Illya's back as he pulled him tighter against him. Illya was lost in the sensation as the darker man kissed, rubbed and fondled him. He was not even aware of the ring sliding off his finger as Napoleon entered him.

Ariadne started to shake. "No!" She howled. This is not possible, we were bonded this is not happening. This must not happen! She screamed as the ring fell from her finger. She felt the loss of the bond and knew that she would pay dearly if she did not reestablish it before dawn.


This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." are property of Norman Felton and Warner Bros. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.

1