"An itch that needs scratching"~ for the Short Affair 8/10

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: The Short Affair

-Prompt Word #1 - Scratch

-Prompt Colour – Gold

Author: mrua7

Title: 'An itch that needs scratching'

Word Count: Approximately 850

It was fairly late, and he’d been home, multitasking...watching the news on his television while rereading some declassified reports of his to see if they needed correcting before being sent off to who know’s where. Once achieving that status, reports were removed from File 40 and sent to a new computer archive, but one not located in headquarters.  It’s where abouts were unknown to Napoleon. That was information to which even he wasn’t privy.

That’s when he felt it, a twitch and then another. From there it turned into an uncomfortable feeling, and he shifted his postion in his easy chair, trying to dismiss it.  No such luck as that twitch became a definite itch and one that needed a good scratch. He had only two options; the old tried and true manual method, but that just wouldn’t do.  No, tonight he needed a woman, and that marvelous feeling of being ‘with’ one in every sense of the word.

Napoleon Solo was down right horney. None of his lady friends whose names were in his little black book were available for such a last minute rendezvous; he opted for the tried and true method of picking up a lovely bit of fluff in a bar.  Not his usual modus operandi unless he was on an assignment, but tonight was an exception, one of necessity, he supposed.

He found a willing companion at small kitchy place with its walls covered in memorabilia from all over the country. It was located not far from the U.N. that catered to the influx of foreign nationals and their eclectic tastes.

It was there he spotted her, a gorgeous platinum blonde whose name he eventually discovered was Lovisa Ingmar.  A Swedish national who worked as a translator, or so she said, but the operative word here was ‘Swedish.’ Solo in his estimation had hit the proverbial jackpot.

After a few drinks, mindless chit chat filled with flirting and innuendo;  she invited him to accompany her home.

He was suspicious as soon as he entered her apartment.  Was she yet another THRUSH femme fatale sent to seduce and kill him?  Well so far she’d gotten the seduction part right, but she just didn’t seem the type who’d be a member of the Hierarchy.

His venture out to a bar where he met her purely by chance, seemed innocent enough, but life as an UNCLE agent had taught him...no, made him paranoid. He was positive he hadn't been followed... yet sometimes his needs outweighed his sense of caution. They say 'love is blind' but perhap in this case it was more lust.

Still, Lovisa’s living room walls were covered in all manner of swords and vicious-looking gold-hilted daggers, as well as antique guns; that of course set off all sorts of bells and whistles to an agent’s instincts.

What had he gotten himself into? She didn’t seem the type at all, and was more along the cuddly, and surprisingly not-so-bright blonde sort of girl...granted, not his usual choice in women. He preferred them not only beautiful, but fairly intelligent. The night wasn’t always about sex, as it usually included interesting conversation as well, before they segued to the bedroom, though this evening sex was definitely his main focus.

While she changed into something more comfortable, Napoleon snooped. To his relief, the weapons he was able to examine were all quite secured to the displays; seemingly nothing that could be grabbed and used against him...though he wasn’t able to check everything.

His little blonde bombshell reappeared wearing a shimmering, flimsy black nothing of a robe and it was easy to see what was beneath it.

“I noticed you’re admiring the collection; I hope you don’t find them off-putting. Most men I bring home, and there haven’t been a lot mind you, have been a bit startled by it all.  Most of them leave in a hurry as they think I’m an axe murderess like the American Lizzie Borden.”

“A bit of an unusual collection for a pretty young lady such as yourself, isn't it?”

"It belonged to my father and when he passed away, I just didn’t have the heart to get rid of them. He was an historian, a sort of dull profession if you ask me, but antique weaponry was his passion. He was quite a good shot with a rifle. He loved them so.”

Napoleon poured a couple of drinks from her bar.  Scotch for him and what he presumed was Absolut for here.

“And what about you? Are you a good shot?” He handed Lovisa her glass.

“Mmm,” she took a sip, flashing him and enigmatic smile.” Not a good shot, but I get what I aim for.”

Her eyes met his and they embraced, still balancing the glasses in their hands. The drinks were put aside and Napoleon swept her off her feet as she giggled.

“So much for foreplay,” Lovisa said.

“Oh there’ll be plenty of that in bed,” he smiled at her as they disappeared into her boudoir.

"I'm counting on it," she whispered into his ear, letting her tongue nibble on his lobe.

This was turning out much better than Napoleon had thought it would...

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Hahahhaa! And scratch he does, and scratch and scratch and scratch... much to Illya's consternation. lol!

Thanks for the compliment and the comment!