coprime_recs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coprime_recs) wrote2004-04-03 01:55 pm
coprime_recs) wrote2004-04-03 01:55 pm
Entry tags:
Man from UNCLE: The Louis Armstrong Affair by Veronica
The Louis Armstrong Affair (Napoleon/Illya | NC17 | 11,127 words) is about Napoleon and Illya discovering what it means to be a couple (as opposed to friends) while still staying themselves. It made me go "awww" at some places and laugh at others; it's a story about the relationship without all the angst that so many stories thrive on. Not that this doesn't deal with angsty issues, but it deals with them in a way that allows Napoleon and Illya to stay the grown men and international spies that they are.
Excerpt:
"What are you doing?"
Napoleon tossed his shoes well away from the water's edge before kneeling down on one knee to roll up the hems of his pants. "Isn't obvious?"
Regarding him through narrowed eyes, Illya made his assessment. "You look as though you are about to frolic in the sea water."
"Why, Illya, one would think you didn't approve of frolicking." Napoleon then did promptly that, dashing into the cold water and then backing out quickly, making sure to send a small torrent of water Illya's way on his retreat.
"UNCLE agents do not frolic," Illya replied frostily, bearing the droplets of water on his face with resigned stoicism, although he knew the gleam in his eyes betrayed him. "Neither do they revel, carouse, caper or cavort."
Napoleon kicked another wave of muddy froth in Illya's direction. "We're not UNCLE agents here, you know. We're - " He shrugged and grinned, apparently as unprepared as Illya to put a name to what they'd become.
Excerpt:
"What are you doing?"
Napoleon tossed his shoes well away from the water's edge before kneeling down on one knee to roll up the hems of his pants. "Isn't obvious?"
Regarding him through narrowed eyes, Illya made his assessment. "You look as though you are about to frolic in the sea water."
"Why, Illya, one would think you didn't approve of frolicking." Napoleon then did promptly that, dashing into the cold water and then backing out quickly, making sure to send a small torrent of water Illya's way on his retreat.
"UNCLE agents do not frolic," Illya replied frostily, bearing the droplets of water on his face with resigned stoicism, although he knew the gleam in his eyes betrayed him. "Neither do they revel, carouse, caper or cavort."
Napoleon kicked another wave of muddy froth in Illya's direction. "We're not UNCLE agents here, you know. We're - " He shrugged and grinned, apparently as unprepared as Illya to put a name to what they'd become.