I just reread Linda White - in fact I think I linked to her today.
I was actually thinking of Taliesin's " The 'Fine and Private Place' Affair" where Solo, as a ghost, watches Illya clean and load his gun.
He sat at the table in the cramped kitchen and cleaned his gun. [...]
His hands performed their task automatically, leaving his mind blissfully blank. These habits were old, ingrained for years before he joined U.N.C.L.E. They were without memory, without association. They just were. Each step executed precisely, no fumbling, no consideration required, just the intimate familiarity of the gun in his hands. [...]
Out of habit, he chambered a round. He propped his elbow on the table and raised the muzzle, savoring the weight of the gun in his hand. This, at least, he could rely on.
no subject
I was actually thinking of Taliesin's " The 'Fine and Private Place' Affair" where Solo, as a ghost, watches Illya clean and load his gun.
He sat at the table in the cramped kitchen and cleaned his gun. [...]
His hands performed their task automatically, leaving his mind blissfully blank. These habits were old, ingrained for years before he joined U.N.C.L.E. They were without memory, without association. They just were. Each step executed precisely, no fumbling, no consideration required, just the intimate familiarity of the gun in his hands. [...]
Out of habit, he chambered a round. He propped his elbow on the table and raised the muzzle, savoring the weight of the gun in his hand. This, at least, he could rely on.