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Nothing ever becomes real until it is experienced.

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infamouscabalbrothers ‌:

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Perhaps it was the spark in Gaby’s eye, or the smile that spoke of mischief and perhaps a hint of mayhem. Either way, Horst felt his confidence rise as he met her  gaze. His own tired smile strengthened, and he stood a little straighter. 

When this was all over, Horst thought, he would try to  get Gaby’s telephone number and take her out to dinner.

   “I think so.” Horst lifted himself over the ledge, lowering  himself by his arms to dangle over the fire escape below.

CLANG! His shoes impact echoed down the iron stairs, and  he crouched- cautiously looking at the hoarde below. The  zombies did not seem to notice, and so Horst stood and reached  up to Gaby.

    “I’ll catch you, if you fall.” 

She knows that. 

Gaby knows it, but that doesn’t make their descent any less perilous, or any less nerve-wrecking. She is no great fan of heights, but must admit that over the years necessity has demanded that she learn to adapt and conquer. The state of her country means she has had to get comfortable with hiding, learn how a true opportunity operates, and perhaps most importantly, understand the city and how she can make it work for her. 

She attempts to lower herself down slowly, holding tight to the ledge as long as she possibly can before she must let go and allow herself to drop the rest of the way. The brick is too close, too flat, for her to get any purchase with her fingertips, and so she must continue to trust the man waiting down below. 

Horst will catch her if she falls, not only because he has proven himself time and again a gentleman, but because his success depends on her every bit as much as her own success depends on him. Gaby has been alone for such a very long time, but as of late she has discovered what it means to work as a team, and how to trust in a partner.

“I don’t mind telling you,” she announces, when she’s joined him on the fire escape. “When this is over, I’m prepared to avoid rooftops for a very long time.”

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moodboards ⇢ illya kuryakin

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Calm down.

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Oh yikes, I haven’t posted here in so long, my activity has cleared. 

And it would appear, according to my tracker, that I.... still do not owe anyone. Okay then.

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"Would you let me borrow your car?" Horst smiled; charming even when he wasn't overtly fluttering his lashes. "I promise I'll be careful with it."

“I would not.” Horst knows precisely how charming he is, and that’s exactly why he will understand why Gaby is avoiding direct eye contact when any other time she might have stared him down. She is determined to prove that his tricks don’t always work, even if there is a part of her that would like very much to simply give in and surrender. 

“And do you know why?” Strange, that the last time a man had asked to borrow her car, he’d worn the exact same face. 

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infamouscabalbrothers‌:

    “I’m not really seeing much of a choice in the matter.     That is, unless you’re up for carrying me.”

Horst offered Gaby what he hoped was a reassuring smile  even for the exhaustion and blood and soot staining his face.  She really was a nice girl, he thought as he pulled himself  upright. He wondered if Johannes would feel the same way.

Surely, Miss Barrow would find a fast friend.

    “The way I see it, it’s only about fifteen feet to the fire escape.        If we can be quiet, I can get us over that fence. The road seems        clearer on that side.” 

Horst drew in a deep breath, thoughtful. If only they could get  away faster- get ahead of the horde. His gaze fell upon the few automobiles beyond the fence.

    “Can you drive?”

Oh, what a question.

A smile - perhaps the first genuine one since finding herself in this mess - spreads wide and smug across her face, hands on her hips as she follows the line of his sight down below. She sees them too, and already she’s sizing them both up, judging their size, potential speed, and condition. They appear undamaged, but of course there’s no way to be sure until they’re up close, and when the time comes she will have to work quickly. 

“I can drive.” No use getting into the specifics; let Horst find out for himself just what she means by that. 

“If we can make it to any one of those cars, I can get us out of here. But I might need a moment to get the car running.” She turns her head to look up at him, feeling hope reignite, though she is careful to keep it but a slow burning ember for now. Gaby has, over the years, become quite the realist. “Can you buy me some time?”

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hebleedsred‌ :

“You did first night of our fake engagement. Were very drunk, so I do not know if you remember,” Illya informed her. “I owe you dance, sober.” He would not let Gaby know he had asked Napoleon for lessons on more modern dances, rather than the waltz. It was one time Solo actually agreed to not bring it up, much as Illya did not trust him to stick to his word. His expression was softer than usual, like it was when he first walked over to her their first night being “engaged”. She hadn’t seen it, as it had been when he put her in her bed. 

The Russian simply watched Gaby walk away, not wishing to make her feel trapped or cornered. He would never push her to do something such as this. The only time he would push her out of her comfort zone would be for her safety during a mission, which he felt was reasonable. “Would think hotel would have better radio,” Illya mumbled to himself, wondering what Gaby’s intentions were. The songs were one’s meant to be danced to, but he wasn’t certain she was going to dance with him after rejecting him initially.

“I remember it,” she tells him a little sharply, only because he isn’t to get away with thinking there are any holes in her memory for anybody to fill with falsehoods. Gaby remembers being bleary and disoriented upon waking bright and early that morning to prepare for their mission, but there hadn’t been any missing pieces. It had been, for the most part, why she had emerged from the hotel so aloof, approaching a smug and smiling Illya with caution.

“And if I remember correctly, you didn’t want to dance, and you didn’t know how.” 

‘No as in, you can dance?’ she’d asked. ‘Or you don’t want to?’

‘Let’s call it both.’

She finds something unfamiliar - must be new - at a meandering, neutral tempo. Something easy to listen to, and probably just as simple to apply to dance, if one were of that mind. When Gaby sashays back to Illya, she’s looking at him with a raised brow, as if she is either expectant or considering something. Her hips sway just ever so slightly, as if giving him a chance to do something about this offer he has extended.

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infamouscabalbrothers‌:

Horst had taken a little more than a pint of Gaby’s blood.  Any more, and he feared that he would leave her too weak  to escape the zombie hoard. Still, he needed more, and  Gaby would not be his donor for a second time. Not if he  could help it.

   “Are you sure? If you start feeling dizzy or anything, you’ll let me know?” Horst looked up at Gaby as she stood, allowing  himself to be used as a support. He patted the back of her hand,  nodded, and drew himself to his feet. Although he was not as  weak as he had been, the demand of his thirst continued to grow.

Horst turned away and walked to the far edge of the roof, looking  over the side. One end of the alley below was clogged with undead;  their stench assailed him. The other, however, was blocked with a  chain-link fence and gate, leaving the far end of the alley clear. He  gauged the distance between the fire escape and the fence. Then  he looked back at Gaby.

     “I think I found our way through, but you’re not going to like it.”

Not going to like it.

It draws an ironic little laugh from her, little more than a soft exhalation; she hasn’t exactly enjoyed her day thusfar, and she hasn’t expected to start now. Her hand remains on Horst’s arm even after they’re both up, as if unsure she is ready to stand on her own despite feeling mostly fine after allowing him to partake. Gaby is curious about it - about a good many things - but isn’t about to waste time asking questions. Perhaps later. If there is a later.

“I’m not surprised by that,” she tells him. “I think by now, the bar is rather low in terms of what I’m willing to deal with.” So low as to have hit ‘not being eaten’ as the hallmark of a successful evening. One day, perhaps they’ll laugh about this. Individually, of course; as is with most missions, the people one meets don’t tend to remain in ones life for long.

Gaby approaches the edge to stand beside him, peering down into the alley to try and see what he might be looking at. She can connect the dots, even if she’s not entirely certain how they’re going to make this happen. Presumably, they will rely on Horst’s failing strength to finish out this obstacle. 

“Are you sure you’re strong enough?” she asks doubtfully.

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Alicia Vikander for W Magazine (December, 2011)

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The Man from U.N.C.L.E  (2015) Outfits — Gaby Teller [1/?]