( A drabble and a half today)
Illya was rifling through his desk, clicking his tongue; not finding what he was looking for. Next came the filing cabinet and the slamming of each drawer as he searched, still unsuccessful.
Napoleon finally spoke up. “What is your problem today?”
“I cannot find any blank R729657/A forms. I know I had them here only yesterday. You would not have happened to take...no forget that. You would have no need of them since you never fill out your reports.”
“I take umbrage at that sir.”
“Beg pardon; you write out reports in your chicken scratch for me to type them up.”
“That’s much better,” Solo smirked. “Mark Slate was rooting around your desk this morning.”
“Mark? I will have his front teeth for cufflinks!” Illya stormed out the door.
Solo opened his desk drawer, taking out the stack of R729657/A forms and calmly put them on his partner’s desk...
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Date: 2015-06-03 05:59 pm (UTC)It's poor Mark I feel sorry for. He's got a Wrathful Russian coming for him.
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Date: 2015-06-03 06:02 pm (UTC)Thanks for commenting and glad you liked the fic.