Enough Already - PicFic 1/19/16

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Napoleon had had enough of the Russian's taunting.  If Illya wanted to play this thing out then he was more than willing to let blondie have it just where he wanted it.

Illya had spent the past week playing the part of a THRUSH accountant sent to check the books of this new satrapy.  A reversal of their normal roles had resulted in Napoleon  being captured and held for interrogation while Illya played upstairs with the enemy.  Well now they were both in the cell together and with nothing like a good mood between them.

"Go ahead then, just let's start a brawl and see them come running to break it up.  Go ahead Solo, do you best, I know you want to.  Now you know how it feels to be left in the dungeon while your partner is wined and dined.  Not a pleasant thing is it?"

That had been too much, because Napoleon didn't like being the one in a cell, didn't think Illya played a part nearly as well as he could in certain situations, and most of all he really did want to deck the guy.

'Illya, you need to just shut up.  I've had about all I can take of this.  I've been roughed up, questioned until my ears hurt and I haven't had a decent meal in a week.' Illlya rolled his eyes, setting off another round of ire in the American's diminishing patience.

"The last thing I need right now is you running your mouth about the situation and trying to  tell me what to do.  I make the plans… senior agent, remember?"

"Ha! Some plan.  You coughed up just enough information for them to haul me down here and now we're both in a cell.  Yeah, great plan."

And that's when Illya pointed to his chin and dared Napoleon to hit him.

One powerful punch and Kuryakin went hurtling across the room and onto the cot that Napoleon had endured for the past two nights. Illya was out, and in a split second Napoleon heard what his partner had said about coughing up information.

'I didn't say anything…' his thoughts  covered every word, reviewed every session with the interrogator and…

"Illya!  Illya, wake up."  The blond mumbled something in Russian and then groaned.

"Illya, I didn't say anything.  I didn't give up any information."  Another groan and Illya moved a little, hoisting himself up on one elbow as he stared down the man who had hit him.

"What? You are telling me that… How did they know?"  And then it dawned on him, painfully and with    a searing streak of guilt for having blamed is friend for this predicament.

Napoleon recognized the thought process and with all the forces of friendship welling up inside his spy heart, he sat down beside Illya and helped his friend to sit up.

"They already knew I guess.  Something must have given you away.  Sorry.  Really, I'm sorry."  Illya sat with chin in hand, a glum expression clouding the blue eyes.

"It is I who am sorry my friend.  i blamed you, I … Well, this certainly tastes like humble pie."  Napoleon slapped him on the back, the germ of a plan cheering him slightly.

"Let's do it."

"What?"

"Let's have ourselves a brawl."

And so they did, and guards came running and … well, you know how it goes.  When it was all over the two friends waltzed out of the compound no worse for wear, already planning a night on the town.  

And the next time someone needed to play an accountant, and the other needed to be captured… Yeah.  That's what they did.

Comments

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Smooth... I like that ;) Thank you.