ext_20824 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2015-03-15 05:46 pm
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2015-03-15 05:46 pm
[March 15th] [The Man From U.N.C.L.E.] Quiet Day
Title: Quiet Day
Day/Theme: March 15th - definition of selcouth
Series: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (specifically, The Odd Man Affair episode)
Character/Pairing: Mr. Wye, Mr. Ecks
Rating: K/G
By Lucky_Ladybug
Wye scowled as he went for the dictionary in the motel room. He muttered to himself, skimming through it, and then slammed it shut in frustration when it didn’t net what he had hoped.
Ecks, who was glancing through the newspaper at the Want ads, looked up with a flat and unsurprised look. “What is it?”
“Oh, this ruddy thing is no help,” Wye growled. “I can’t find the blasted word in there!”
Ecks turned his gaze to the dictionary. “It could be too old. Or too new. I’m surprised you need the dictionary, though. Sometimes it seems like you know every word in the English language.”
Wye muttered under his breath. He did have quite an extensive vocabulary; he had to, what with his job in the organization. It rather embarrassed him that he wasn’t familiar with this word.
“Maybe I could help,” Ecks offered.
“I doubt it, but alright,” Wye grunted. “Have you ever heard the word selcouth?”
“Occasionally,” Ecks admitted. “It’s not really used anymore.” He shook out the paper.
“Well, what does the bloody thing mean?!” Wye exclaimed.
“That’s not as easy to pinpoint,” Ecks confessed. “It seems to have meanings as varied as strange, rare, and marvelous.”
“Oh, well, that’s a big help.” Wye sighed and picked up the book. “I guess the only way you can figure out which one it is, is by the context.”
“Pretty much,” Ecks shrugged.
Wye read for a while longer before looking up. “I don’t suppose you found anything.”
“Nothing that would really help us.” Ecks folded the paper and set it aside. “Unless you know something about gardening, interior decorating, or carpet-cleaning.”
Wye rolled his eyes Heavenward. “Not any more than the next bloke. Probably less than some.”
“What kinds of jobs did you have?” Ecks wondered. “I’ll know what to look out for.”
“Military jobs,” Wye said slowly. “I got a lot of my spy training from them, oddly enough. I tried politics for a while, but that didn’t go over so well.”
Ecks smirked. “I don’t know why. Politicians are always waffling about nothing.”
“Yes, well. Obviously I couldn’t try anything like that now. We have to keep a low profile,” Wye cautioned. “Nothing that would put us in the public eye.”
“Plus, you know I don’t even know what the rules are as to whether naturalized citizens can play politics in this country?” Ecks mused. “That’s something neither of us ever needed to know.”
“We might not even be here long enough to become naturalized citizens,” Wye said. “We might have to keep on the move.”
“We’ll see. I really wouldn’t mind staying here permanently, I imagine. I don’t particularly have a desire to travel, just a desire to be free. Which, for the moment, we are. Hey, I’ve got it.” Ecks went over and crossed his arms on the top of Wye’s easy chair. “Why don’t you write a book? You could use a penname so we couldn’t be traced back to the organization.”
“A book?” Wye snorted. He looked up at Ecks. “What would I write about?”
Ecks shrugged. “I’m sure you could think of something. A self-help book, maybe. Just expand on things you talked about in the park.”
“And that would be a dead giveaway to my identity, if I wasn’t careful,” Wye retorted.
“Ah, but you would be.” Ecks pushed away from the chair and walked across the room to the window.
Wye stared after him. “Of all the ridiculous . . . writin’ a book ain’t quick. It could take me months to figure one out!”
“It could be our back-up plan while we’re looking for something else,” Ecks said.
Finally Wye sighed in grudging resignation. “I guess I could at least try and see if I could do anything with it.”
“That’s the spirit.” Ecks turned back to face him.
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into these things,” Wye complained. “I’m supposed to be the one with the ideas.”
“You trained me,” Ecks grinned.
“Yes,” Wye mused. “I did at that.” He looked back at his book, smiling a little to himself.
Day/Theme: March 15th - definition of selcouth
Series: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (specifically, The Odd Man Affair episode)
Character/Pairing: Mr. Wye, Mr. Ecks
Rating: K/G
Wye scowled as he went for the dictionary in the motel room. He muttered to himself, skimming through it, and then slammed it shut in frustration when it didn’t net what he had hoped.
Ecks, who was glancing through the newspaper at the Want ads, looked up with a flat and unsurprised look. “What is it?”
“Oh, this ruddy thing is no help,” Wye growled. “I can’t find the blasted word in there!”
Ecks turned his gaze to the dictionary. “It could be too old. Or too new. I’m surprised you need the dictionary, though. Sometimes it seems like you know every word in the English language.”
Wye muttered under his breath. He did have quite an extensive vocabulary; he had to, what with his job in the organization. It rather embarrassed him that he wasn’t familiar with this word.
“Maybe I could help,” Ecks offered.
“I doubt it, but alright,” Wye grunted. “Have you ever heard the word selcouth?”
“Occasionally,” Ecks admitted. “It’s not really used anymore.” He shook out the paper.
“Well, what does the bloody thing mean?!” Wye exclaimed.
“That’s not as easy to pinpoint,” Ecks confessed. “It seems to have meanings as varied as strange, rare, and marvelous.”
“Oh, well, that’s a big help.” Wye sighed and picked up the book. “I guess the only way you can figure out which one it is, is by the context.”
“Pretty much,” Ecks shrugged.
Wye read for a while longer before looking up. “I don’t suppose you found anything.”
“Nothing that would really help us.” Ecks folded the paper and set it aside. “Unless you know something about gardening, interior decorating, or carpet-cleaning.”
Wye rolled his eyes Heavenward. “Not any more than the next bloke. Probably less than some.”
“What kinds of jobs did you have?” Ecks wondered. “I’ll know what to look out for.”
“Military jobs,” Wye said slowly. “I got a lot of my spy training from them, oddly enough. I tried politics for a while, but that didn’t go over so well.”
Ecks smirked. “I don’t know why. Politicians are always waffling about nothing.”
“Yes, well. Obviously I couldn’t try anything like that now. We have to keep a low profile,” Wye cautioned. “Nothing that would put us in the public eye.”
“Plus, you know I don’t even know what the rules are as to whether naturalized citizens can play politics in this country?” Ecks mused. “That’s something neither of us ever needed to know.”
“We might not even be here long enough to become naturalized citizens,” Wye said. “We might have to keep on the move.”
“We’ll see. I really wouldn’t mind staying here permanently, I imagine. I don’t particularly have a desire to travel, just a desire to be free. Which, for the moment, we are. Hey, I’ve got it.” Ecks went over and crossed his arms on the top of Wye’s easy chair. “Why don’t you write a book? You could use a penname so we couldn’t be traced back to the organization.”
“A book?” Wye snorted. He looked up at Ecks. “What would I write about?”
Ecks shrugged. “I’m sure you could think of something. A self-help book, maybe. Just expand on things you talked about in the park.”
“And that would be a dead giveaway to my identity, if I wasn’t careful,” Wye retorted.
“Ah, but you would be.” Ecks pushed away from the chair and walked across the room to the window.
Wye stared after him. “Of all the ridiculous . . . writin’ a book ain’t quick. It could take me months to figure one out!”
“It could be our back-up plan while we’re looking for something else,” Ecks said.
Finally Wye sighed in grudging resignation. “I guess I could at least try and see if I could do anything with it.”
“That’s the spirit.” Ecks turned back to face him.
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into these things,” Wye complained. “I’m supposed to be the one with the ideas.”
“You trained me,” Ecks grinned.
“Yes,” Wye mused. “I did at that.” He looked back at his book, smiling a little to himself.