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section7mfuI hope the way I got the line (Caution: Too Hot to Handle) into this works alright. I was rather amused by it. :)
Title: The Peaceful Meadows Affair, chapter seven
Summary: It may finally be time for a truce....
By Lucky_Ladybug
Chapter Seven
“Martin Jensen’s sister?” Illya exclaimed, unable to hide his surprise.
“And you’ve come here to find him,” Napoleon said as he arrived, having overheard the last exchange.
“Well . . . or to find out what’s happened to him, whatever it is.” The dark-haired woman continued to clutch at her purse, eyeing Napoleon with a slightly suspicious and confused eye.
“This is my roommate,” Illya explained. He glanced around the store. “This is perhaps not the place to have a proper discussion. If you will wait for us to check out, you can come back with us and we’ll see if your friends are home.”
“Thank you,” she said in relief.
But just as Illya and Napoleon were hurrying to the nearest checkout stand, Ecks and Wye rushed through the doors and over to the beautiful stranger.
“What the devil are you doin’ here?!” Wye hissed.
She whirled to look at him. “I’ve been waiting for your first progress report!” she shot back. “You’ve been here for days and I haven’t heard anything!”
“We warned you that we might not be able to make contact once we were inside,” Ecks said in annoyance, folding his arms. “We haven’t found a legitimate reason to leave the community.”
She stared at him. “You have to have a reason to leave?!”
Wye nodded. “Pretty much. They ask at the front gate. They asked you why you were comin’ in, didn’t they?”
“Yes.” She continued to grip her purse, apparently a nervous habit. “I said I was coming to visit the two of you.”
“And you didn’t give your right name, I trust,” Wye said.
“Of course I didn’t!” she retorted. “Not after I called the front office before I hired you two and completely got the run-around about Martin!”
Napoleon, the first through the line, wheeled his cart of paid-for items over to the group. “It sounds like you three have a lot to talk about,” he mused. “Illya invited your lovely friend to come back with us, but that was to find you. Nevertheless, I think it’s about time we were included on your activities.” He gave Wye a pointed look.
Wye did not look impressed. “And why should you be? Just because you found our ‘lovely friend’ first?”
“No,” Napoleon answered calmly. “More because we all seem to have a goal in common, even though our reasons are different. And I’m thinking that instead of continuing our childish squabbles, we should pool our resources and work together to find the solution.”
“You haven’t talked to Kuryakin about that, have you?” Ecks said with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m planning to,” Napoleon said. “I think we should all meet in our kitchen and discuss the entire situation from the top.”
Ecks and Wye exchanged an uncomfortable look. “Well,” Wye said at last, “we’re all going to the same place. You talk it over with Kuryakin and we’ll talk it over with our ‘friend’ and we’ll see what we come up with when we get there.”
“Fair enough,” Napoleon nodded, taking note that Wye was being careful not to say the woman’s name. Which was probably the best policy, considering that her brother was a taboo subject.
****
Illya was not pleased when he met Napoleon at the doors and they took their carts to Napoleon’s car. “Just what were you discussing with them?” he frowned, watching as they headed to a blue car that apparently belonged to the woman.
“Oh, nothing much,” Napoleon calmly answered. “Just that perhaps we should stop treating each other as the enemy in this situation.” He placed two bags in the backseat and straightened, looking to the stunned Illya.
“Right now, we don’t know whether they’re the enemy or not!” the Russian exclaimed.
“But we do know that we all want to find out what’s going on around here,” Napoleon replied. “It’s starting to sound like that woman asked Mr. Wye and Mr. Ecks to look into the disappearance of her brother.”
“That seems a little low-key for their usual tastes,” Illya sniffed.
They finished loading the groceries and took the carts to the nearest cart station before climbing into the car and driving off. By now the blue car had already left.
“We really don’t know what they’re up to these days, as you just got through pointing out,” Napoleon said. “Perhaps they have to take whatever work they can get, even if it’s . . . low-key. I would have to say, though, that these particular disappearances seem to be anything but low-key.”
“Very true.” Illya stared ahead. “But I still do not like the idea of trying to work with them.”
“You said you wanted to give them a chance to choose a different path this time around,” Napoleon said. “Maybe the only way you can know whether they have is to take the risk and extend a bit of trust. Anyway, by this point I think we’d do well to be allies rather than enemies, considering we have a common enemy in whoever is behind what’s going on here.”
Illya sighed. “You do have a point. Alright. If they agree, I will as well. But even if we declare a truce, we had better both stay on the alert for a possible double-cross.”
“Agreed,” Napoleon nodded.
****
The blue car was parked next-door when the U.N.C.L.E. agents arrived. Somewhat to their surprise, the passengers were still there instead of inside the house.
“Well, here you are,” Wye drawled, pushing himself away from the door, where he had been leaning.
“Yes, here we are,” Napoleon said slowly. “What have you decided?”
“I’ll tell you, we’re still unsure,” Wye said. “But . . .” He looked to Ecks before speaking again. “We figure U.N.C.L.E. is pretty trustworthy. So maybe we’ll lay our cards on the table, so to speak, and see how we feel after everybody knows everything.”
Ecks nodded in agreement. “If you’re ready, we’ll do it now. Our ‘friend’ is willing to bring you in on it.”
“Fine,” Illya said brusquely. “Help us carry in the groceries and I will make lunch while we talk.”
“Lunch?” Napoleon raised an eyebrow. “We only started shopping after breakfast.”
“And it took two hours,” Illya retorted. “By the time we put everything away and I prepare lunch, we’ll be hungry again.”
“That’s debatable,” Napoleon muttered apprehensively.
Illya ignored that.
Napoleon had to admit, he was a bit amused by the sight of the former enemy agents bringing in paper bags filled with eggs, vegetables, and non-food items such as paper towels. When everything had been placed on the kitchen table, Illya started going through the sacks to find what needed to be placed in the fridge. “Alright,” he said as he opened a produce bin, “start talking.”
Wye started to settle down at the table, but stopped and scowled when Napoleon handed him some cereal to put in the cupboard. “Ms. Jennifer Jensen here hired us to find out about her brother,” he said grudgingly.
“And why you?” Napoleon asked.
“We do things like that,” Ecks said flatly.
“They bill themselves as consultants and troubleshooters,” Jennifer said.
Illya straightened and turned. “Which is basically a euphemism for private investigators?” he guessed.
“Now, it’s illegal to be private investigators in this state without workin’ for three years under a licensed one,” Wye said smoothly.
“But that wouldn’t stop you,” Illya retorted.
“It’s not illegal to be a consultant,” Ecks said. “And who knows what a troubleshooter does. They’re really quite versatile.” He grinned wickedly. “Anyway, as far as investigating goes, you actually don’t need a license to look for missing people. Which is strange, considering how that’s probably one of the most dangerous things you can do.”
“I can’t imagine you would be doing this type of work if you had found another spy organization that wanted you,” Illya said.
“It’s not like you can go advertise your services at Spies Are Us or somethin’,” Wye said.
“And I doubt any organization would even hire you if they knew about your double-crossing past,” Illya said.
Jennifer looked bewildered. “Spies? Double-crossing?! What have I got myself into?!”
“Now, what we did in the past has nothing to do with what we’re doing for you in the present,” Wye said to her. “If anything, you should be grateful that you’ve got a couple of former spies working for you. We really know the business.”
Jennifer tried to relax. “I guess that’s true.”
“As far as the mystery goes, we don’t really know any more than you,” Wye said, looking to Napoleon. “At least, not if what we’ve found out together is pretty much the extent of your knowledge. We got here not long before you did.”
“All we’ve really figured out is that the people here don’t like strangers,” Ecks said.
“The people here are also starting to figure out what we’re doing here,” Napoleon announced. “Or at least, some of them are.”
“What?!” Illya spun around, holding the carton of eggs. “Napoleon, why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I only found out shortly before we ran into Ms. Jensen,” Napoleon said. “These two ladies were talking and feeling rather frightened about the disappearances. One of them mentioned they should wait to think about moving until they saw what we came up with.”
“This is disturbing.” Illya shoved the eggs into the bread compartment, carton and all. “How would they know? And if they know, why doesn’t the Council know?”
“Who’s to say they don’t?” Napoleon answered, handing Illya the milk. “I’m afraid our hours here are numbered. I suppose it just looked too suspicious for four new people to move in almost at once, especially when two of those people asked about Martin Jensen and the other two didn’t seem to approve of the harsh rules and regulations around here.”
“Well, that’s just great.” Wye threw his hands in the air. “So if you blokes hadn’t blundered into the investigation we already set up, maybe we’d be getting somewhere.”
“Unfortunately, we had no way of knowing that two troubleshooters had already been assigned to the case,” Illya retorted with dripping sarcasm. “Not before we were already here.”
“You’re right, of course,” Wye relented. “I apologize.”
“But you showing up looking for us is probably only going to make them even more suspicious,” Ecks said to Jennifer. “What kind of cover story did you give for wanting us?”
“I said I was a friend from your old neighborhood and I just wanted to see how you were getting along here,” Jennifer said. “They seemed to believe me.”
“Naturally they would seem to,” Illya grunted. “They probably wanted to let you in to follow you and try to figure out your ulterior motive, if you had one. Which of course you did.”
Jennifer sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean to come in and cause more trouble,” she berated, rubbing her forehead. “I’m just so worried about Martin.”
“Did he ever say anything to indicate what was happening here?” Napoleon asked kindly.
“Not really,” Jennifer said. “He just talked about how great it was to live where there was so much order. He never sounded like he had a problem with how things are run. Then, all of a sudden, there were no more letters or phone calls. When I called to ask about him, I was told only that he had violated one of the rules and had been told he had to move on. But when he didn’t come back, I knew there must be more to it.”
Illya turned on the stove and dug out a cookbook he had added to the purchases. “It’s actually quite strange that the Council apparently didn’t take into consideration that family and friends would come here looking for the missing people when they didn’t return to their old lives,” he said. “They don’t seem to be that incompetent.”
“I wouldn’t say they’re incompetent at all,” Napoleon said. “It’s almost as though the Council either doesn’t care if people come looking or that they feel there’s no reason for alarm.”
“But why would they, unless . . .” Wye trailed off, suddenly realizing where Napoleon was going with that musing.
“Unless they really are just asking people to move on and think that’s what’s happening,” Napoleon said. “What if it isn’t the Council, but someone else who’s making sure that the missing never get back?”
Illya set the open cookbook down on the table and leaned on the table with his palms. “But who on Earth would be behind it then?” he frowned. “If this is a THRUSH plot, I would think that the Council would all be in on it.”
“Perhaps only some of the Council is, unbeknownst to the rest,” Napoleon said. “Or maybe it’s some of the residents.”
Ecks grimaced, propping himself up on an elbow. “We really don’t know much of any of what’s going on, even by pooling our resources,” he said in annoyance.
“I still wonder if those paintings don’t have something to do with it,” Napoleon said. “It’s such an out-of-place scene, considering everything that’s going on in town. I say we should examine our copies more closely.”
“We have already tried that,” Illya said irritably. “And I checked mine again this morning. I can’t find anything about it to indicate that it’s not a normal painting.”
“Maybe I’m wrong,” Napoleon shrugged. “But another examination couldn’t hurt.”
“I suppose not.” Illya picked up the cookbook again and leafed through it. Suddenly he rocked back, frowning at the page.
“What is it?” Napoleon blinked.
“I cannot believe the utter stupidity of some people,” Illya fumed. “Why on Earth should any recipe have to say, ‘Caution: When prepared, this dish is too hot to handle. Allow it to cool for five minutes before serving’?”
Wye slapped his thigh and cackled. “I tell you, Ecks, the general intelligence of humanity is dropping all the time. Some daft idiot must’ve tried to bite into the thing when it was too hot and tried to sue the cookbook company over it! Then they’ve got no choice but to put stupid warnings in the books in case there’s other twits out there that might do the same thing.”
Ecks shook his head. “We could write a book on the idiotic warning labels we’ve seen.”
“Well, no matter.” Illya went to the fridge and took out the eggs. “I am going to make omelettes. Then, after we have lunch, we’ll look over the paintings again.”
“Fair enough,” Wye said agreeably.
“So,” Napoleon prompted, “are we going to have a truce?” Behind him, Illya cracked eggs into the kettle, tense but not speaking as he watched their adversaries closely.
Again Wye and Ecks exchanged a look. “I suppose, just for now,” Wye said. “It saves time and energy trying to out-spy you.”
“Good,” Napoleon said. He held out a hand to shake on the deal. Wye took it, giving it a firm shake.
Illya and Ecks had a more difficult time. For a long moment they glowered at each other, not particularly thrilled with the idea but understanding the reasoning behind it. At last, holding out their hands, they grasped each other’s for a brief shake.
Then, worried about his omelettes, Illya hurried back to the stove.
And, displeased over the egg on Illya’s fingers, Ecks rushed to the sink.
Title: The Peaceful Meadows Affair, chapter seven
Summary: It may finally be time for a truce....
Chapter Seven
“Martin Jensen’s sister?” Illya exclaimed, unable to hide his surprise.
“And you’ve come here to find him,” Napoleon said as he arrived, having overheard the last exchange.
“Well . . . or to find out what’s happened to him, whatever it is.” The dark-haired woman continued to clutch at her purse, eyeing Napoleon with a slightly suspicious and confused eye.
“This is my roommate,” Illya explained. He glanced around the store. “This is perhaps not the place to have a proper discussion. If you will wait for us to check out, you can come back with us and we’ll see if your friends are home.”
“Thank you,” she said in relief.
But just as Illya and Napoleon were hurrying to the nearest checkout stand, Ecks and Wye rushed through the doors and over to the beautiful stranger.
“What the devil are you doin’ here?!” Wye hissed.
She whirled to look at him. “I’ve been waiting for your first progress report!” she shot back. “You’ve been here for days and I haven’t heard anything!”
“We warned you that we might not be able to make contact once we were inside,” Ecks said in annoyance, folding his arms. “We haven’t found a legitimate reason to leave the community.”
She stared at him. “You have to have a reason to leave?!”
Wye nodded. “Pretty much. They ask at the front gate. They asked you why you were comin’ in, didn’t they?”
“Yes.” She continued to grip her purse, apparently a nervous habit. “I said I was coming to visit the two of you.”
“And you didn’t give your right name, I trust,” Wye said.
“Of course I didn’t!” she retorted. “Not after I called the front office before I hired you two and completely got the run-around about Martin!”
Napoleon, the first through the line, wheeled his cart of paid-for items over to the group. “It sounds like you three have a lot to talk about,” he mused. “Illya invited your lovely friend to come back with us, but that was to find you. Nevertheless, I think it’s about time we were included on your activities.” He gave Wye a pointed look.
Wye did not look impressed. “And why should you be? Just because you found our ‘lovely friend’ first?”
“No,” Napoleon answered calmly. “More because we all seem to have a goal in common, even though our reasons are different. And I’m thinking that instead of continuing our childish squabbles, we should pool our resources and work together to find the solution.”
“You haven’t talked to Kuryakin about that, have you?” Ecks said with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m planning to,” Napoleon said. “I think we should all meet in our kitchen and discuss the entire situation from the top.”
Ecks and Wye exchanged an uncomfortable look. “Well,” Wye said at last, “we’re all going to the same place. You talk it over with Kuryakin and we’ll talk it over with our ‘friend’ and we’ll see what we come up with when we get there.”
“Fair enough,” Napoleon nodded, taking note that Wye was being careful not to say the woman’s name. Which was probably the best policy, considering that her brother was a taboo subject.
Illya was not pleased when he met Napoleon at the doors and they took their carts to Napoleon’s car. “Just what were you discussing with them?” he frowned, watching as they headed to a blue car that apparently belonged to the woman.
“Oh, nothing much,” Napoleon calmly answered. “Just that perhaps we should stop treating each other as the enemy in this situation.” He placed two bags in the backseat and straightened, looking to the stunned Illya.
“Right now, we don’t know whether they’re the enemy or not!” the Russian exclaimed.
“But we do know that we all want to find out what’s going on around here,” Napoleon replied. “It’s starting to sound like that woman asked Mr. Wye and Mr. Ecks to look into the disappearance of her brother.”
“That seems a little low-key for their usual tastes,” Illya sniffed.
They finished loading the groceries and took the carts to the nearest cart station before climbing into the car and driving off. By now the blue car had already left.
“We really don’t know what they’re up to these days, as you just got through pointing out,” Napoleon said. “Perhaps they have to take whatever work they can get, even if it’s . . . low-key. I would have to say, though, that these particular disappearances seem to be anything but low-key.”
“Very true.” Illya stared ahead. “But I still do not like the idea of trying to work with them.”
“You said you wanted to give them a chance to choose a different path this time around,” Napoleon said. “Maybe the only way you can know whether they have is to take the risk and extend a bit of trust. Anyway, by this point I think we’d do well to be allies rather than enemies, considering we have a common enemy in whoever is behind what’s going on here.”
Illya sighed. “You do have a point. Alright. If they agree, I will as well. But even if we declare a truce, we had better both stay on the alert for a possible double-cross.”
“Agreed,” Napoleon nodded.
The blue car was parked next-door when the U.N.C.L.E. agents arrived. Somewhat to their surprise, the passengers were still there instead of inside the house.
“Well, here you are,” Wye drawled, pushing himself away from the door, where he had been leaning.
“Yes, here we are,” Napoleon said slowly. “What have you decided?”
“I’ll tell you, we’re still unsure,” Wye said. “But . . .” He looked to Ecks before speaking again. “We figure U.N.C.L.E. is pretty trustworthy. So maybe we’ll lay our cards on the table, so to speak, and see how we feel after everybody knows everything.”
Ecks nodded in agreement. “If you’re ready, we’ll do it now. Our ‘friend’ is willing to bring you in on it.”
“Fine,” Illya said brusquely. “Help us carry in the groceries and I will make lunch while we talk.”
“Lunch?” Napoleon raised an eyebrow. “We only started shopping after breakfast.”
“And it took two hours,” Illya retorted. “By the time we put everything away and I prepare lunch, we’ll be hungry again.”
“That’s debatable,” Napoleon muttered apprehensively.
Illya ignored that.
Napoleon had to admit, he was a bit amused by the sight of the former enemy agents bringing in paper bags filled with eggs, vegetables, and non-food items such as paper towels. When everything had been placed on the kitchen table, Illya started going through the sacks to find what needed to be placed in the fridge. “Alright,” he said as he opened a produce bin, “start talking.”
Wye started to settle down at the table, but stopped and scowled when Napoleon handed him some cereal to put in the cupboard. “Ms. Jennifer Jensen here hired us to find out about her brother,” he said grudgingly.
“And why you?” Napoleon asked.
“We do things like that,” Ecks said flatly.
“They bill themselves as consultants and troubleshooters,” Jennifer said.
Illya straightened and turned. “Which is basically a euphemism for private investigators?” he guessed.
“Now, it’s illegal to be private investigators in this state without workin’ for three years under a licensed one,” Wye said smoothly.
“But that wouldn’t stop you,” Illya retorted.
“It’s not illegal to be a consultant,” Ecks said. “And who knows what a troubleshooter does. They’re really quite versatile.” He grinned wickedly. “Anyway, as far as investigating goes, you actually don’t need a license to look for missing people. Which is strange, considering how that’s probably one of the most dangerous things you can do.”
“I can’t imagine you would be doing this type of work if you had found another spy organization that wanted you,” Illya said.
“It’s not like you can go advertise your services at Spies Are Us or somethin’,” Wye said.
“And I doubt any organization would even hire you if they knew about your double-crossing past,” Illya said.
Jennifer looked bewildered. “Spies? Double-crossing?! What have I got myself into?!”
“Now, what we did in the past has nothing to do with what we’re doing for you in the present,” Wye said to her. “If anything, you should be grateful that you’ve got a couple of former spies working for you. We really know the business.”
Jennifer tried to relax. “I guess that’s true.”
“As far as the mystery goes, we don’t really know any more than you,” Wye said, looking to Napoleon. “At least, not if what we’ve found out together is pretty much the extent of your knowledge. We got here not long before you did.”
“All we’ve really figured out is that the people here don’t like strangers,” Ecks said.
“The people here are also starting to figure out what we’re doing here,” Napoleon announced. “Or at least, some of them are.”
“What?!” Illya spun around, holding the carton of eggs. “Napoleon, why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I only found out shortly before we ran into Ms. Jensen,” Napoleon said. “These two ladies were talking and feeling rather frightened about the disappearances. One of them mentioned they should wait to think about moving until they saw what we came up with.”
“This is disturbing.” Illya shoved the eggs into the bread compartment, carton and all. “How would they know? And if they know, why doesn’t the Council know?”
“Who’s to say they don’t?” Napoleon answered, handing Illya the milk. “I’m afraid our hours here are numbered. I suppose it just looked too suspicious for four new people to move in almost at once, especially when two of those people asked about Martin Jensen and the other two didn’t seem to approve of the harsh rules and regulations around here.”
“Well, that’s just great.” Wye threw his hands in the air. “So if you blokes hadn’t blundered into the investigation we already set up, maybe we’d be getting somewhere.”
“Unfortunately, we had no way of knowing that two troubleshooters had already been assigned to the case,” Illya retorted with dripping sarcasm. “Not before we were already here.”
“You’re right, of course,” Wye relented. “I apologize.”
“But you showing up looking for us is probably only going to make them even more suspicious,” Ecks said to Jennifer. “What kind of cover story did you give for wanting us?”
“I said I was a friend from your old neighborhood and I just wanted to see how you were getting along here,” Jennifer said. “They seemed to believe me.”
“Naturally they would seem to,” Illya grunted. “They probably wanted to let you in to follow you and try to figure out your ulterior motive, if you had one. Which of course you did.”
Jennifer sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean to come in and cause more trouble,” she berated, rubbing her forehead. “I’m just so worried about Martin.”
“Did he ever say anything to indicate what was happening here?” Napoleon asked kindly.
“Not really,” Jennifer said. “He just talked about how great it was to live where there was so much order. He never sounded like he had a problem with how things are run. Then, all of a sudden, there were no more letters or phone calls. When I called to ask about him, I was told only that he had violated one of the rules and had been told he had to move on. But when he didn’t come back, I knew there must be more to it.”
Illya turned on the stove and dug out a cookbook he had added to the purchases. “It’s actually quite strange that the Council apparently didn’t take into consideration that family and friends would come here looking for the missing people when they didn’t return to their old lives,” he said. “They don’t seem to be that incompetent.”
“I wouldn’t say they’re incompetent at all,” Napoleon said. “It’s almost as though the Council either doesn’t care if people come looking or that they feel there’s no reason for alarm.”
“But why would they, unless . . .” Wye trailed off, suddenly realizing where Napoleon was going with that musing.
“Unless they really are just asking people to move on and think that’s what’s happening,” Napoleon said. “What if it isn’t the Council, but someone else who’s making sure that the missing never get back?”
Illya set the open cookbook down on the table and leaned on the table with his palms. “But who on Earth would be behind it then?” he frowned. “If this is a THRUSH plot, I would think that the Council would all be in on it.”
“Perhaps only some of the Council is, unbeknownst to the rest,” Napoleon said. “Or maybe it’s some of the residents.”
Ecks grimaced, propping himself up on an elbow. “We really don’t know much of any of what’s going on, even by pooling our resources,” he said in annoyance.
“I still wonder if those paintings don’t have something to do with it,” Napoleon said. “It’s such an out-of-place scene, considering everything that’s going on in town. I say we should examine our copies more closely.”
“We have already tried that,” Illya said irritably. “And I checked mine again this morning. I can’t find anything about it to indicate that it’s not a normal painting.”
“Maybe I’m wrong,” Napoleon shrugged. “But another examination couldn’t hurt.”
“I suppose not.” Illya picked up the cookbook again and leafed through it. Suddenly he rocked back, frowning at the page.
“What is it?” Napoleon blinked.
“I cannot believe the utter stupidity of some people,” Illya fumed. “Why on Earth should any recipe have to say, ‘Caution: When prepared, this dish is too hot to handle. Allow it to cool for five minutes before serving’?”
Wye slapped his thigh and cackled. “I tell you, Ecks, the general intelligence of humanity is dropping all the time. Some daft idiot must’ve tried to bite into the thing when it was too hot and tried to sue the cookbook company over it! Then they’ve got no choice but to put stupid warnings in the books in case there’s other twits out there that might do the same thing.”
Ecks shook his head. “We could write a book on the idiotic warning labels we’ve seen.”
“Well, no matter.” Illya went to the fridge and took out the eggs. “I am going to make omelettes. Then, after we have lunch, we’ll look over the paintings again.”
“Fair enough,” Wye said agreeably.
“So,” Napoleon prompted, “are we going to have a truce?” Behind him, Illya cracked eggs into the kettle, tense but not speaking as he watched their adversaries closely.
Again Wye and Ecks exchanged a look. “I suppose, just for now,” Wye said. “It saves time and energy trying to out-spy you.”
“Good,” Napoleon said. He held out a hand to shake on the deal. Wye took it, giving it a firm shake.
Illya and Ecks had a more difficult time. For a long moment they glowered at each other, not particularly thrilled with the idea but understanding the reasoning behind it. At last, holding out their hands, they grasped each other’s for a brief shake.
Then, worried about his omelettes, Illya hurried back to the stove.
And, displeased over the egg on Illya’s fingers, Ecks rushed to the sink.
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no subject
Date: 2015-07-03 05:41 am (UTC)Thanks for this interesting council of war. I do love how Napoleon is deducing some of the problem.
no subject
Date: 2015-07-03 09:47 am (UTC)I'm finding Napoleon a very intriguing character to write. :)
no subject
Date: 2015-07-03 11:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-07-03 11:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-07-03 07:20 pm (UTC)As for the chapter, it was brilliant. They might start getting somewhere now they've started working together.
no subject
Date: 2015-07-04 12:29 am (UTC)And yes, I definitely think things will start happening faster now that they're not resisting the idea of working together.