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section7mfu2015-12-08 10:30 am
"Here's To Gift Horses"~ for the 25 Days of Christmas Countdown
It was a relief as the two U.N.C.L.E. agents slipped into their seats on board their United flight, taking them back to New York just in time for the Christmas holidays.
It had been a rough assignment that ended up in a near disaster. Both Napoleon and Illya did not come out unscathed as each had broken arms, and their faces were pretty well beaten up from their interrogation session with a T.H.R.U.S.H. henchman.
The looks they received as they hobbled through the airport terminal, and check-in were almost unnerving, and Illya turned, sounding off.
“What? You have never seen a person who had been in an automobile accident before?”
That barbed comment had people quickly turning away in embarrassment.
“Nice move,” Napoleon whispered, “that’ll teach ‘em to stare.”
As take off was delay, the stewardesses came around offering drinks to the passengers. One, dressed in her pale blue shift and matching blue cap stepped up to Napoleon and Illya, bending forward, speaking in hushed tones. On her collar was a small Christmas pin, a wreath with a tiny bell in the center of it that rang with a barely audible tingle.
“Gentlemen, I have two seats available in first class and wondered if you’d care to move up there... Seeing as how it’s a bit cramped for you, and given your injuries, you might be more comfortable there.”
Napoleon didn’t hesitate smiling, giving her his acceptance.
“Wait a moment,”Illya interrupted,” how much will this upgrade cost us? You know my friend, accounting issues?” He reminded the American.
“Why Mr. Kuryakin,” she looked at her passenger list,” there’s no extra charge. We have the space, and it’s simply a courtesy for you both and we’re serving Surf and Turf.”
That did it; Illya instantly rose from his seat. “Thank you, that is very kind of you to offer...Stephanie.” He looked at her nametag with a shy smile.
“Our pleasure, now if you’ll follow me gentlemen, we’ll get you settled in before we start to taxi.”
Napoleon noticed a change in Kuryakin's demeanor as a sour look was now on his partner’s face as they sat together. First class definitely had more legroom and creature comforts but why Kuryakin looked unhappy was beyond him.
The stewardess immediately offered them drinks, extra pillows and blankets.
"Now what’s wrong Illya?”
“I do not have this sort of luck, unlike you, and am waiting for the left shoe to fall.”
“That’s ‘the other shoe,’ and don’t be such a worry wart for once. Soak it up when it comes your way. Who knows when we'll see first class again.”
“Oh trust me, I am soaking it up.” He took a long sip of his vodka. “You know me, ever the fatalist.” He tried relaxing. “I am just...unaccustomed to such niceties happening to me.”
Napoleon downed his scotch on the rocks as the jetliner taxied into position and accelerated to a smooth take off. Once the jetliner levelled off, he signalled the stewardess for another round.
“Listen chum,” he finally said," never look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Sorry I am not familiar with that particular idiom, what does it mean?”
Solo grinned at the pretty dark-haired stewardess as she arrived with their drinks.
“Dinner will be served shortly Mr. Solo. How do you prefer your steak?”
“Medium and my friend here likes rare, thank you.” It was all he could do to break eye contact with her as she had the most gorgeous green eyes but he managed.
“Now to answer your question, the phrase can be traced back to St. Jerome, who referred to it as a common saying in his introductory remarks to the Epistle to the Ephesians in his translation of the New Testament: "Equi donati dentes non inspiciuntur." A rather mangled literal translation would go something like this: "A given horse's teeth are not inspected."
“Ah yes, I think I understand now,” Illya nodded. “Horse's gums recede as they age making their teeth appear longer. Inspecting the teeth of a horse given as a gift would be considered ungrateful. It would mean the recipient was trying to see if the horse was old and undesirable. Yet I still do not see the connection regarding my concern about the ‘other' shoe falling?”
“Illya?”
“Yes Napoleon?”
“Just shut up, enjoy yourself and quit your thinking for once, and that’s an order.”
“Fine, if you are going to pull rank on me...”
“I am, now cheers.”
“Chtoby podarit' loshadey_to gift horses.” Illya raised his glass.
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