"Solo's Revenge" a sequel to the drabble "Wedding Traditions"

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Written by popular demand as a follow up to the drabble posted last week called “Wedding Traditions”

It was rare that Illya Kuryakin found himself jumpy, at least that is in UNCLE headquarters. After the rather public prank he pulled on Napoleon at the Waverly wedding; he was beginning to take Solo’s threat of revenge to heart, almost regretting his joke at the expense of his partner’s dignity.

It was bad enough to have to watch over one’s shoulder when in the field, but at work it should have been completely unnecessary. Though Illya was still worrying about Napoleon’s revenge, he found it odd his partner seemed to be avoiding him. That made the wily Russian even more concerned, if not confused.

“Napoleon couldn’t still be that angry with me? Maybe it is just my imagination getting the better of me? Maybe there will be no payback after all? Solo was not one to let things slide this long, perhaps I am worrying for nothing?” Illya wondered.

He was just tired, and that made him more paranoid than usual, he tried reasoning with himself. He’d been on several stakeouts that had gone into the wee hours of the morning, and hadn’t been afforded the luxury of catching up on his sleep afterwards.

Illya decided to take a cat nap in his office to refresh himself. He sipped a mug of tea he’d gotten at the Commissary and quickly began feeling very drowsy. Soon he was fast asleep; his head lolling backwards as he snored while still seated in his chair.

Kuryakin awoke with a gasp to the sounds of giggles and laughter, thinking he’d been dreaming.

He looked around, bleary eyed, feeling as though he’d been drugged until he realized he wasn’t in his office. He was sitting at a table in the Commissary. Did he wake up and come here? Illya didn’t remember at all and was completely disoriented. Was he dreaming? That was not the case when he became fully aware that he was stitch stark naked.

Though Illya had no problem with nudity, it was usually being naked at a time of his own choosing, though it happened after being captured by the enemy more than he would want to admit.

Still, he had no idea how this happened. “Was this a dream?” He asked himself again as he pinched his bicep.

“Ow!” No, this was for real.

Seeing the grinning faces of his fellow employees both male and female surrounding him; he grabbed a table napkin to cover his privates, but that would hardly do. Spying a nearby potted palm tree; he grabbed it and wrapped the fronds around himself, leaving the container as it crashed on the floor. He backed out the door intending to head straight to his office.

“Pardon me?” He said bowing his head several times as the laughter grew louder.

“Well excuse me?” April Dancer was standing there as the doors opened and received quite a surprising view.  Looking down at his naked behind, she smiled for a second, admittedly enjoying what she saw.

”What in heaven’s name are you doing Illya?”

“Trying to save what little dignity I have left.” He eyed her bright yellow coat. “May I?”

“Good Lord of course.” She removed it, giving it to him. Illya remained behind the palm tree as he slipped into the garment. Though it only barely reached to the top of his thighs, it would have to do.

“Thank you April. I owe you.”

“Illya, what’s this all about?”

“Napoleon’s revenge I would imagine,” he called to her before disappearing into the elevator, tightly gathering the coat about himself. At least Napoleon left him his shoes…

Still Solo was no where to be seen. This added more to Illya’s state of confusion. Why pull a prank such as this and not make oneself available to witness it?

“Good grief,” Illya muttered, slapping his forehead with his hand. “Security cameras.”

Napoleon Solo smiled at a job well done as he sat comfortably at one of the monitors in Security.

“You got that on recording right Tom?”

“Ohhh without a doubt Napoleon,”Lopaka grinned.”

“Good, I’ll want the only copy, if you don’t mind.”

“For real? We can’t keep one on file for blackmail purposes?”

“Blackmail is my bag Tom, when it comes to the matter of my partner,” Solo winked.

He left the office, tape in hand, feeling quite happy at having gotten his satisfaction. Heading to the office he shared with Illya, he planned to put an end to a possible Russian revenge by flashing the recorded evidence. He wasn’t a master strategist for nothing.

“Gotcha Kuryakin.” Napoleon started singing a song to himself...

”By the light of the silvery moon…”