"Creative Financing"~

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

"Always borrow money from a pessimist, he won't expect it back."

Oscar Wilde

Challenge: What’s My Line?’

The prompt: "Always borrow money from a pessimist, he won't expect it back."

Oscar Wilde

Title: ‘Creative Financing’

Author: mrua7

Word Count: Approximately 2150

There were too many occasions as of late where Illya Kuryakin found his partner hitting him up for money. He didn’t mind helping Napoleon out, though he knew in the long run his doing so was helping to finance the American’s voracious sexual appetite.

Solo liked to wine and dine his women before bedding them. He did know how to treat a woman right and made her feel special, that much Illya understood as he’d seen it first hand. Which is the reason he suspected the ladies of UNCLE flocked to Solo like moths to a flame.

Napoleon also had a reputation as a talented lover; given the sexual revolution and all that 'free love' attitude, there was many’s a woman who was more than willing to throw herself at him. Promiscuity was Solo's friend when it came to women, regardless of their thoughts on the liberalization movement.

Those where were willing knew he was going to romance them in every way possible and it was funny how so many of those independent feminist types loved being enchanted by a most anachronistic Napoleon Solo.

That whole process did cost money...a lot of money, and Illya found himself running short by the end of the week.  He had plans himself and now was low on cash.

Napoleon was good for it, as he’d repaid what he’d borrowed in the past, though he had to be prodded and subtly reminded at times.

It wasn’t a question of just having money returned to him; Illya needed it now to purchase tickets to a performance of Tchaikovsky’s Ballet, Romeo and Juliet. The schedule had been changed and New York City was added last minute to the tour for this particular Soviet dance company.

Although "Romeo and Juliet" was not originally written as a ballet, its music has led to the choreographing and production of this orchestral piece. Inspired by the work of William Shakespeare, Tchaikovsky first composed the work in 1870; however, it underwent three revisions before the final version completed in 1880.

Over the decades, many companies had adapted this piece into ballet productions, recounting the famous play about doomed love. It happened to be a favorite of the Soviets.

Illya had plans to not only see the performance, but to visit with an acquaintance of his from his days at the University of Georgia, a one Nastasja Oblanskaya who was the seamstress and costume designer for the ballet company.

A pretty girl, shy and intelligent. They developed a strong friendship back then, though it was strictly platonic.

Kuryakin had continued keeping track of her over the years as it more easily done by him than her trying to do the same. It was better and safer this way, especially back in his days with GRU.

Now it was not so much a problem since he worked for UNCLE.

Illya wanted to see her and to wish her well as upon her return to Moscow. There she would be getting married to someone they both knew from school.  A science major by the name of Pyotr Lavrov. He was nice enough, a bit shy like Nastasja, and a good match for her.

There were members of the ballet company who knew of his and Nastasja’s harmless acquaintanceship and the even the secret police traveling with the troupe viewed Kuryakin as no threat.

He was not there to effect a defection, that they finally realized and simply let him be; though they still kept an eye on him and the girl, just in case whenever the two came into contact. The last time was in Europe, two years ago.

She was no traitor and had no access to sensitive information. The girl would not betray the Soviet Union. There were those in KGB who thought just the opposite of Kuryakin, but not everyone did, and not the agents traveling with the ballet this time.

.

Napoleon walked into the office he shared with his partner; a stack of folders in his arms.

“What are those?” Illya asked.

“Personnel files. It’s time to start thinking about who’s ready to move up  from Section III to the position of field agent.”

“Wonderful. I guess you will have your work cut out for you will you not?”

Napoleon let the pile drop onto his desk with a thud.”You’re not going to help me?”

“No. I have plans, speaking of which. I will need back some of the money I have loaned you...say forty dollars?”

Napoleon swallowed hard. “Gee, I’m sorry but I’m sort of broke right now, can it wait until Friday. I can cash my paycheck and give it to you then.”

Illya shook his shaggy blond head. “No that will not do I need it for tonight,” he huffed his frustration.

“You really want it back now?”

“No I do not want it back at all...of course I do! Did I just not say I had plans?”

“Gee you’ve never asked outright for your money before. Sometimes I think you don’t really want it back; you are after all a bit of a pessimist.”

“What does me being a pessimist have to do with it?” Illya was now becoming annoyed.

“Oscar Wilde put it succinctly,” Always borrow money from a pessimist; he won’t expect it back.”

“Well did not Oscar Wilde die a pauper? He said on his death bed, unable to pay the doctor’s fee, ‘that he would die as he had lived - beyond his means.’ You my friend are living beyond your means, and I am the fool for loaning you my money again and again.”

Napoleon cringed at his partner’s harsh words, but chose to rebut them.

”Hey Mister ‘I am not cheap, I am frugal’.. don’t you have money squirreled away in the bank for a rainy day? I know you; you don’t spend a dime unless you absolutely have to.”

“That money cannot be touched. It is for my retirement when I reach the age of forty,” Illya suddenly looked a bit sheepish at his remark.”Besides, the bank is closed, even if I wanted to withdraw the money. It is a holiday, remember?

“If you reach the age of forty,” Napoleon corrected him.

“Now who is being the pessimist? I need forty dollars for tonight and you need to figure out a way to get it for me, by legal means, may I add?”

“Illya you’ve cut me to the quick. Would I do something questionable to get you your money?”

“If the shoe fits…”

“Oh now you get the saying right. Fine! I’ll have your money by five o’clock. Is that good enough to suit you?”

Illya uncrossed his arms, as he’d been standing in a defensive position during the whole conversation. “Yes that will do, thank you.” He turned and headed out of the office without saying another word.

Napoleon rifled through his desk, looking to see if he had a stash somewhere. He found a roll of quarters, that was it. He opened up his wallet and removed ten singles and a five. That was all he had until pay day, twenty-five dollars.

He stuffed the quarters into his suit pocket, and headed out of the office as well, formulating his plan to get the remaining fifteen dollars.  He couldn’t borrow it from anyone else, as he’d pretty much burned his bridges there. Truthfully for a frugal guy Illya was the only one generous enough to continue loaning him money.

He called Mark Slate and a few of the other field agents in house to their small conference room. It was nothing like the Old Man’s, and simply had a meeting table with plain orange plastic and metal chairs...the same sort used in the commissary.

“Okay gentlemen, “Solo rubbed his hands together with a smile. “The name of the game is Seven Card Stud.”  He set an unopened box of cards on the table in front of him.

“What? You’re kidding right?” Mark asked.” I thought we were here for a meeting?”

“No I’m not kidding. You all have nothing but paperwork to do as do I and I figured a respite from that was in order. Any one against?  It’s a holiday and THRUSH seems to have taken the day off.

The room was silent.

“Good. Mark, I’ll shuffle, you deal.”

An hour and a half later the players were pretty well tapped out. With only a couple of lost hands, Napoleon had won it all.  By his estimates there was at least sixty dollars in the pot.

They all rose from their seats, stretching a they stood. “You cleaned us out good,”Mark laughed.”If I didn’t know better I’d say you had ulterior motives for doing this, mate.”

“Moi? Why whatever would make you think that?”

Solo gathered up his winnings, wrapping up the money in his handkerchief, and headed back to his office, quite pleased with himself.  He had the forty dollars for Illya, and twenty more...he could take one of the ladies from Communications out for a nice evening on that, though it was the after date frolics to which he always looked forward.

He counted the winnings, taking out his twenty and what he’d thrown into the pot, leaving exactly forty dollars, mostly in quarters dimes and singles...there were a few pennies as well.

Napoleon reached into his bottom desk draw and pulled out a canvas bag he’d gotten from somewhere  and dumped the money into it: tying it shut, he set in on Illya’s desk.  He snickered to himself, after all his partner hadn’t specified the denominations to make up the forty dollars.

Illya came walking in not long after, his nose buried in a file. He sat at his desk, lowering the paperwork and removed his tinted reading glasses. all without saying a word. He looked at the canvas bag sitting in front of him.

“What is that, may I ask, is that in the middle of my desk?”

“It’s what you asked for,” Solo glanced at his wristwatch,”and it isn’t even five o’clock.”

Illya eyed the bag with suspicion before picking it up, finding it weighed a fair amount.

“What did you do Napoleon?” He asked before peeking inside. “Did you rob a vending machine?”

“Please, would I do something as despicable as that when not in the line of duty? Illya?”

“I am thinking.”

“Aw come on, I got you your money. Aren’t you satisfied? You’re acting a bit of an ingrate you know.”

“I suppose you are right. I did not specify the denominations in which you were to pay me.” He looked in the bag again.” I presume it is all here?”

“To the penny, and I mean that literally.

Illya lifted the sack, dangling it over his shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to take that on your...date. It is a date right? Who is it?”

“Yes it is a date per se. No one you will ever know.”

“Illya remember the banks are closed…”

“I know, but the UNCLE exchange down the block is not. You know we do have one for changing money? It is in the offices above the Masque Club. By the way, I took the liberty of getting the paperwork started for you, a personal loan through the exchange for the purpose of paying your debts. So you can start next month with a clean slate.”

Napoleon was blown away. “A loan? Just exactly for how much?”

“Seven hundred fifty-five dollars and thirteen cents, to be precise.”

“And thirteen cents...hmm. I owe you that much?”

“Me, April, Mark and a score of others.”

“Oh so you’re all ganging up on me?”

“Napoleon, the weekly payment is nominal as is the interest, which does not begin until the second month. If you pay it off early, it will be interest free.”

“You’ve got it all figured out don’t you?” Napoleon sighed.

“But of course. Now I must leave to take care of my banking before my date.”

“So not going to tell me who she is?”

“No.” Illya hesitated, suddenly feeling for ganging up on his partner. “Tell you what, tomorrow I will help you sort through those files. Go spend the money you won at Seven Card Stud on a nice young lady, and have fun.”

“Illya Kuryakin you are one sly devil.” Solo winked at him. It figured the smart Russian would find out how he’d gotten the money for him.

“No my friend I am merely a pessimist, with a smidgen of optimism thanks to you and U.N.C.L.E.”

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

The UNCLE exchange is mine, thought the location is part of canon. Above the Masque Club is the location for UNCLE propaganda front and a charitable organization, So I figured why not have an exchange there for the agents to change money as well as pick up monies for their assignments.

I got the idea from one episode where Napoleon asks to borrow money from Illya, IK reaches into his pocket and pulls out a money clip and goes to hand it to him, then stops himself, apologizing that it's Russian money before he digs in another pocket for the right denomination. (chuckle)

Quicker than searching in the UNCLE Bible: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U.N.C.L.E.