section7mfu | "The Poosycat Affair" for Picfic Tuesday Part 1

Rated Gen-mature for sexual references but nothing overt, more like PG.

The Prompt:

Napoleon Solo finally admitted it to himself that he was indeed a Casanova; he was always dallying with a different lady, whether he slept with her or not. That was pretty much the definition of a womanizer, though he liked the term Casanova better. Still he was always a gentleman and never mistreated his paramours. Yes he slept with most of them, but only if they were willing, and a lot of them were.

He went from one woman to another the way a honey bee would drift from flower to flower, gathering its nectar. Napoleon concluded, like nectar, his time with women was a necessity, food for his soul and his libido.

It would at times put a stay to the loneliness he sometimes felt. As an agent he was accustomed to jetting off from one assignment to the next; the closest thing he had to a nest was the New York apartment he called home. Calling it that was a bit ironic though, considering how little time he spent there.

He wasn’t completely alone in the world; he had his Aunt Amy as well as the rest of his family and of course there was his partner. Yet knew Napoleon knew needed more, there was a void in his life that needed filling. That’s where the ladies came into the picture.

His relationships with women didn’t last long, and he had no hesitation seeing more than one lady at a time. Most of them knew he wasn’t exclusively theirs, and vice versa. It was an arrangement that worked well enough for all parties involved.

So many were drawn to him as he was to them. In this age of free love it was like being a kid in a candy shop. At times there were so many women drifting in and out of his life that he began to lose track of their names.

Napoleon’s hand went to his cheek, still remembering the sting of being slapped by several of those ladies whose names he got wrong. He’d sort of over booked his schedule on top of that… lesson learned. To solve his naming issue he started calling his dates Poosycat. That way in the throes of passion he wouldn’t utter the wrong name. So far it was working quite well.

He first used the term during the ‘See-Paris-and-Die- Affair,’ and smiled when he recalled strolling with Mary Pilgrim to the dance floor where he addressed Illya as Poosycat. The Russian most certainly did not appreciate it. Or was it the fact that Kuryakin was left sitting with Madame Gruschenka who suddenly took a liking to his partner because he was Russian.

That was another time but the place was the same...ah Paris!

Posted in two parts because Live Journal is being uncooperative AGAIN!