?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

The Pendragon Affair

-a Man from UNCLE slash fanfic by Taylor Dancinghands

Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin
Characters: Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin, various O/Cs
Genre: slash, h/c, A/U: Sentinels and Guides, Sentinels are a known institution
Warnings: m/m romance, intimacy, period terminology for African Americans (but not the n- word), tropes and themes lifted freely from The Sentinel tv show, episode 1, season 4 (Sentinel Too, pt 2).
Rating: Mature/PG 17

Length: 23,800

Disclaimer: I'm old, but still not old enough to be any of the creators or owners of the Man from UNCLE intellectual property. I swear, my own twisted musings are not costing those people a dime, and I won't be making a penny myself.

Summary: Napoleon and Illya are called in when airport officials in San Francisco are threatened with a laser attack on northbound passenger planes and UNCLE thinks it looks like a Thrush operation. Chasing down the villain's probable base on Mt Tam, our heroes discover that this affair involves Sentinel business too, for Mt Tam hides its own secrets —a forgotten shrine, sacred to Sentinels, which is also imperiled.

Excerpt from Act I: Our heroes are on Mt Tam, tracking a lost boy who has wandered away from a camp...

A chill breeze swept through the trees as the sun slipped behind the hills and Napoleon frowned. "Hope it doesn't get too cold tonight," he murmured.

"We're not so far behind him now," Illya said. "We'll find him before too long."

"Here's hoping," Napoleon said, 'knocking wood' on a passing sequoia for good measure. He was encouraged by Illya's certainty. It meant that his Sentinel was still following a clear scent trail, and able to discern enough that he could tell how old it was. Napoleon was having a rather harder time keeping track of their surroundings in the encroaching dusk. He had no idea precisely where they were, and his own well trained, but altogether mundane senses told him nothing of what might be coming up ahead.

He was mainly focusing on not losing track of Illya in the shadowy forest when he felt something grab at him from out of the dark, and before he could even give warning he was caught up in a powerful grip, with the unmistakable cold press of a knife at his throat.

"Freeze, G-man!" the sharp command was uttered into his ear.

He complied with professional courtesy, muttering, "Not a G-man," as he raised his hands. He heard nothing from Illya but did not expect to. Still, his captor did.

"Whoever you are," he called out into the shadows. "I've got a knife to your partner's throat."

There was a long moment of silence, and then Illya all but materialized out of the shadows in front of Napoleon.

"That's my Guide." The tone of the words was flat, devoid of any inflection, but the threat in them was chillingly palpable.

"He's another Sentinel, James," came a woman's voice from behind him. "They're here looking for the kid, not for us."

The knife came away from Napoleon's throat then, much to his relief, and another figure stepped out of the shadows.


Comments

( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
jkkitty
Apr. 1st, 2018 06:06 pm (UTC)
Can't wait, is it completely done or just coming. Also will it be on AO3
tdancinghands
Apr. 2nd, 2018 01:45 pm (UTC)
I just finished it yesterday, but need to do the last read-through edit. Usually that's a quick deal but currently I have a brand new job abd a move coming, so there may be a little delay. As usual, it will go up on my LJ a chapter at a time, then on Ao3 all at once.
jkkitty
Apr. 2nd, 2018 06:24 pm (UTC)
Thanks I do enjoy your work.
gevr
Apr. 1st, 2018 08:08 pm (UTC)
I'm so thrilled you're writing a new sentinel-cross over story. And situated in San Fran too. Our annual concert with the orchestra has sanFran as thema - talk about coincidence !
I am so excited I can hardly wait :-D
tdancinghands
Apr. 2nd, 2018 01:49 pm (UTC)
This story is the lastest in my exercise in writing at least one MUNCLE story for all the places I've lived -and we lived in San Rafael in 1982-3. The only city left is where I grew up, Washington DC, which seems an obvious locale for a MUNCLE affair, but perhaps too obvious. I am still fishing for a story idea for there.
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )