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Oh, this is a fun fic! It’s proof that the oldest cliche in the book can be polished diamond bright in the hands of a skillful writer. You know the one about Illya and Solo getting dosed with truth serum? You know what happens afterward, don’t you? Well, this is that story told with a boatload of style and humor- and wrapped up in a pretty good plot to ferret out a THRUSH mole as well! A tremendously fun fic that still manages to nail the characterizations. I can just see Illya’s disgruntled/bemused expression in my head as Solo natters on about his abused wardrobe:
“… I have a reputation to keep up!”
Illya opened his mouth to say … something … anything … to end the harangue before Mr. Waverly stopped turning puce and actually shot his number one agent (if only to shut him up). Unhappily, his tongue started working before his brain could catch up. “Yes, and we all know what that is. Truth be told, Napoleon, I don’t know why you worry about your suits, when you don’t keep the zippers up and the trousers covering you long enough to know you even put them on.” His hand clapped over his mouth instinctively. Where on earth had that come from?
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Interesting… Very interesting to say the least. Will there be more? <a >wartrol</a> Posted by WartrolMann on 04/20 at 02:26 AM
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