[Makebelieve] Tree Fic: The Rejected Lover Affair 6-8 (Branch 1) man From Uncle, Professionals - NC17

[makebelieve archive]

This is now a Tree Fic.. If a segment post inspires you to write, please do
you writeus a chapter. Don't worry about if two folks write the same part,
that only gives us an additional story from the branch. Anyone who wants to
start a wren of their own, roll it on out, the more the merrier...and what
better way to shake a list out of its stupor than to have stories pouring
in, hey? Oh, and finally, for those of you who want to try your hand at
writing but have never felt comfortable in turning out a full-out story,
this would be the perfect oppportunity for you to dip your toe. we're just
having fun. Remember, no rules or structure. If you want to do a single
person response (RPG) bit, its all good. the idea is to make a story. little
bits or large scenes, its all good

NOTE: With a double post for Chapter 6, this story has branched in two
directions. the primary (Branch 1) is archived here
http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=39995   the second
branch  http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=40060  You
will find all versions
http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/series.php?seriesid=456

The Rejected Lover Affair
by round robin authors

Fandom: Man From UNCLE, the Professionals
Pairing/Characters: [Man From Uncle] Napoleon Solo (Robert Vaughn), Illya
Kuryakin (David McCallum) and Alexander Waverly (Leo G. Carroll) [The
Professionals] George Cowley (Gordon Jackson), Ray Doyle (Martin Shaw) and
William Bodie (Lewis Collins)
Portrayed by: above
Category: Hetero, slash A Wandering Wren. this is a story that anyone can
add to at any tme. Please consider adding a part.
Rating: FRT13
Status: wandering
Spoilers: not as yet
Series/Sequel: no
Brief Summary: One of the agents is....misplaced
Warnings: abuse under the disguise of BDSM, torture, angst, abduction
Notes/acknowledgments: written to bring attention to the new
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ManFromUNCLE_Fantasies list
General thanks to all of you folks who are requesting short fics and improvs
in the various fandoms. You're keeping the words flowing.
Disclaimers: MfU belongs to its creator. The story comes frm the minds and
souls of the writers.
Archive: on makebelieve

For those of you just joining us, previous chapters are
http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=39995&warning=FRAO


Part 6
by nei

[Warning: religious musings.]

Napoleon did a thing he had long ago sworn he never would. He bargained with
God.

If Illya could be returned to him, healthy...hell, relatively healthy, or in
a state that at least permitted his recovery and healing, Napoleon
would...he thought about it. Were there any limits to what Illya meant to
him whole and able to complain, pick at, nag and harass Napoleon? He could
think of nothing he wanted more than to see Illya, exasperated, impatient,
frighteningly competent, at his side.

Solo had had a rather kind but definitely religious upbringing. He did think
some of the thou shalt nots a bit much. But, here in the desperation of the
moment, a moment that stretched longer and longer, as he watched the scenes
play out on the screen in front of him, the fear was eating away at his
resolve. He believed in a higher power. He believed in God. He believed,
with good reason, in good and evil. One perfect example was right in front
of him, carving into his heart through his ears with every muffled whimper,
every flinch and cry that Illya couldn't hold back.

What would Solo give up to have his partner back with God's blessing or
intervention or whatever it would take? He would give up a lot, not
everything, but a lot. Would he die for Illya? Yes. He would, he had no
hesitation nor doubt. He would die so Illya lived, But that wasn't the case
here, not yet. The man who had Illya hadn't asked for anything. Nothing at
all. He just...shared...what he was doing to the blond Russian. In
horrifying, well focused detail.

Napoleon thought it wasn't possible things might get worse. Illya's face was
turned away from the lens. Solo needed to see his eyes. The look in them. He
needed to have the communication they had always shared from the very first,
communication that needed no words. But then Illya's head turned, his hair
stuck with sweat to his forehead, his face contracted in a rictus of pain,
and he opened his eyes. For the briefest of instants. And Napoleon knew it
was worse. It was deadly. Illya...had accepted his own fate, his death
or...what?... as inevitable, he ~knew~ he was not going to get free.

True fear was not a thing Napoleon spent much time considering. He was not a
philosophical man when it came to life or to religion. He was a man of
action. He tried not to look too closely at the things he had done in the
name of justice and saving the world from THRUSH in particular. How many
deaths, how much blood was on his hands? He clenched his fists, refusing to
look down, refusing to take the excuse to look away from Illya's ordeal.

The man's hand was oddly caressing. It ~loved~ Illya's skin, his body. It
nauseated the man watching. Would it be the last touch that Illya knew? Not
Napoleon's affectionate squeeze of his shoulder, the touch that Illya
pretended not to like, frowning in case anyone should look and see how much
it meant to him?

Oh, God. Illya. Was he going to die? Napoleon closed his eyes. And bargained
with God. Dear God...please....please....please.....

Was love a sin? Did God disapprove of Solo's active love life? Yet...it
wasn't the real question was it? Was what he did, taking woman after woman
to be and ~loving~ them, stroking them, giving them pleasure...was that
love/ What was sex? Was sex sin? Or was it a gift. From God. To those who
really loved. Who looked for a way to give that love to another? Napoleon
felt his eyes sting.

What would he give up to get Illya back?

Would he give up UNCLE? Betray Waverly and the mission that was given to
UNCLE? No. He would not.

As ridiculous as it was, watching the tape that showed Illya's suffering,
Napoleon reviewed his guilty sins. He toyed with the idea that he was to
blame. That Illya was paying for his sins. He never called them that. He
never let himself think of them as anything but normal fun between willing
adults. But, deep in his heart he wondered, was God angry with him? Would
God reward him if he wasn't such a sinner? If Napoleon wasn't...Napoleon
Solo, would God be pleased?

He sighed, shaking his head. He ached to have Illya back. By any means
necessary. He promised God he would be a better person. An embarrassed
promise that he was almost afraid to admit to himself and would never let
any other person hear him promise it out loud. But if it made a
difference....

He grabbed the envelope, his keys, his jacket and headed out the door. God
watched, He listened, He helped those who helped themselves. Feeling far
more decisive Napoleon thundered down the stairs.

"Open Channel D." He said, and he was on his way.



Part 7
by TexasAries

[Introduces "The Professionals" Fandom.
Sidenote: If you run into an unfamiliar fandom, write the fandom you know,
someone else can always fill in the blanks.]

CI5 surrounded the small isolated cottage in the Midsomer district having
tracked Paul Fortaine. Fortaine was wanted for his involvement of
manufacturing designer narcotics that have polluted
the streets of London leaving about a dozen dead and about five others in
coma with little chance of waking. That's not counting the number of people
killed through turf wars.

CI5 Agents code name 4.5 and 3.7 were hiding in the under bush not far from
the cottage as they watch the rest of the squad arrived as spread out. Both
men's jaw tightened even more as a pain filled scream came once again from
the cottage. Both Agent arrived in the early morning having found Fortaine
but were ordered by Cowley to remain were they were until everything was in
place. It was about an hour ago that the screams started and there was
nothing they could do until the team arrived. Now with the signal they can
make Fortaine pay and help his victim.

With cold dead eyes Bodie went first running low across the law to flatten
against the wall. He felt the heat of his partner against his back, turning
he made eye contact with Ray. Ray was to get to the victim first while he
took out Fortaine.

Sliding up to the door, Bodie reached out and test the door lock only to
find it turn easily in his hand. A cold hard smile briefly appeared on
Bodie's face, before he signaled Ray to go around him to the other side of
the door. Once Ray was in place he slowly open the door and gently pushed it
open.

Keeping low Ray entered the cottage sweeping the small living rooming with
his gun. Getting the all kill, Bodie made his way towards the stairs just as
another scream of pain swept over them making them tighten their grips.

Carefully and quietly, both Agents made their way up the stairs till they
were at eye level with the second floor allowing them to look under the
bottom rail scanning the floor for danger. At the head of the stairs was the
open bathroom door, two bedrooms on either side of the stairwell. To the
right was a plain small bedroom with a single bed which they could easily
determine was empty, not so with the left bedroom. They could see two men,
both naked; one was blonde and tied face down while another man was standing
beside the bed trailing his fingers through the blood of the blonde man's
savaged back before sucking the bright red liquid from them.

The blonde's head turned and Bodie heard his partner's small gasp but his
eyes remained locked with blue eyes of the victim. He had seen the look in
many men's face during his years as a Mercenary and SAS.

The look that told Bode that the man had acceptance of his death.

He doubted that the blonde man even consciously saw him, which made him all
the more determine to take Fontaine down and down as hard as he can. Quickly
he and Ray made their way to the bedroom doorway and peaked in. Fortaine was
muttering something as he caressed the ravage back.

Bodie almost floated across the wooden floor to stand right behind bastard
and with cold dark eyes and a deadly smirk he placed the barrow of his gun
right behind Fortaine's ear.


Part 8
by PEJA

"Bang. Bang, you're dead." Bodie murmured softly.

Fontaine didn't even flinch. He did however offer a darkly confident chuckle
as he turned to face the British agent. "Only if you don't give a damn about
your partner's life, friend."

Bodie didn't even have time to wonder what that cryptic statment might mean.
the answer slapped him in the face as Doyle was shoved not so very gently
into the room by an amazonic beauty of a woman. the gun to his head told its
own story.

"She looked like another prisioner, Bo. I thought..."

Bodie silenced him with a look.

Fontaine chcuckled again as he took the gun from Bodie. "Do you really think
I wouldn't have anticipated your coming, and planned for it?" He motioned
for Bodie to move backward, advancing one step for each Bodie took until he
had him backed to the wall. "Chain yourself to to the wall. Feet first."

Bodie hesitated for only a second before obeying.

"Now you," Fontaine ordered Doyle. "Over here." He pointed to a section of
the wall several feet down.

Doyle did as he was told, dragging his feet until the woman gave him a rough
shove.

Once the men were shackled and secured, Fontaine selected a knife and cut
off their clothes. "Dispose of these." he said softly tossing the woman the
scraps of cloth. Next the selected a filled syringe and approached Bodie.
"My pet would be more than willing to tell you that this.." he held the
syringe before maddened-glazed eyes, "will bring you to obedience." he
smirked as the needle prieced Bodies flesh. "If I were to allow him speech."

Bodie's last sight before darkness befell him, was the blonde's soulful
despair shining from dull blue eyes



end part 8


***

Okay MfU authors, or even those who just wannabe, how about adding a few
lines.

oh and remember to come play on
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ManFromUNCLE_Fantasies would love to see some
stories to christen the list from you all as well.

Feedback would be nice, guys...let us know what you think


NOTE: a second branch has been added to this story. I'll send that version
of chapter 6 though in awhile


-- 
PEJA
The wwomb archive http://www.squidge.org/~peja/cgi-bin/index.php accepts all
fandoms, all genres. Come create your personal page with us
Need a plot bunny? http://community.livejournal.com/adoptaplotbunny/
ready to commit ten minutes a day to writing?
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TenMinutesWithTheMuse
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: http://www.chez-vrolet.net/pipermail/makebelieve/attachments/20080926/b7e9045e/attachment.htm