"To Summer, May It Be a Good One," ~ for the Short Affair

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: The Short Affair

Prompt Word #1 - Gourmet

-Prompt Colour – White

Title: “To summer, may it be a good one”

Author: mrua7

Word Count: Approximately 1000

Napoleon Solo rolled up his sleeves and prepared to tackle a difficult task. Yet before he started anything, he wrapped a white apron around his waist and placed a chef’s hat on his head.

After all, he had to look the part and he was going to do it in style.

The apron had been a gift from his Aunt Amy when she and the rest of the family held a big summer barbeque at the Solo compound out on Long Island. Luckily Napoleon’s father was away, as usual, so the atmosphere was more relaxed and festive.

Napoleon fancied himself a bit of a gourmet but when it came to barbecuing, it wasn’t exactly his forté. Still he could manage to cook spare ribs, steaks, and burgers to perfection when needed.

The hot dogs, he decided to boil...good old fashioned dirty water dogs with the requisite sauerkraut and mustard, as well as relish, catsup and onions. All the necessary condiments were there.

There was coleslaw...Aunt Amy’s recipe, macaroni salad, potato salad, Boston baked beans, corn on the cob and Caesar salad as welle as grilled vegetables for those who didn’t like meat.

This meal he was preparing was not a real barbeque per se, though Napoleon was trying to get it as close to one as possible. UNCLE headquarters in New York wasn’t exactly conducive to hosting an event more suited to the outdoors so the Commissary would have to do.

Thanks to help from April Dancer, and George Dennell the tables were covered with red and white checkered cloths...there would be no games of course, no tossing of horseshoes or badminton. So the food had to be just right.

It was the Summer Solstice, the official start of summer and those employees working today were in for a treat.

The Section II agents not in the field would be waiting on the tables and serving the food to the people who supported them in the field. It was a way to thank them for all they did.

Kuryakin was out of the picture, having injured himself on his last assignment.  He zigged when he should have zagged while riding a bicycle in pursuit of someone and ended up crashing into the rear of a garbage truck.

It wasn’t a pretty sight; the bike was a total loss. Illya was covered in trash and managed to fracture his right arm, cracked some ribs and broke an ankle. He was confined upstairs in Medical.

After the rousing success of the pseudo-barbeque Napoleon went to see his partner, bringing with him a doggie bag, a rather large one that is. Several burgers, a couple of hot dogs, a sampling of all the salads.  It was enough to feed more than one person, but Kuryakin being notorious for his appetite could easily demolish it all on his own.

Napoleon spread out the food on the bed table, and rolled it over the to the bed.

Kuryakin surveyed the feast, but hesitated.

“Illya what’s wrong?” Napoleon asked.

“Where are the ribs? You told me you were making ribs, and no corn on the cob?” His blue eyes were filled with disappointment.

“I thought you’d have trouble eating them.” Illya was the only person Napoleon knew who could disarm him with a mere look, and make him feel guilty when he did absolutely nothing wrong.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go get some for you….anything else?”

“Could you sneak me in a can of Schlitz from Cookie’s stash?”

“Beer? You want me to get you a beer and sneak it past the doctors and nurses, knowing you’re on medication.”

“Da, pozhaluysta. Napoleon you are the premier spy in all of UNCLE Northwest; I think you could manage that.” Illya winked.

Of course he had to do it, Illya just issued a challenge to his reputation.

Solo retreated to the Commissary packaged up the ribs and corn along with a couple more hot dogs with all the fixings, for himself.  He grabbed two cans of beer that he knew that Cookie hid in the walk in refrigerator for himself.

Waverly overlooked it even though he knew otherwise; he was told the beers were used in several recipes for the Commissary. Right.

Napoleon returned to Medical, and after chatting with the floor nurses who thanked him for the great meal, he headed to his partner’s room.

How Illya had managed to devour what Napoleon had already brought was beyond him, but it was all gone.

“Still have room for the ribs and corn?”

“Of course,” Illya let loose a small belch.” Pardon me. Yes I have some room left.”

Napoleon cut the ears of corn in half, making them more easy to handle and after tucking a napkin under his partner’s chin he let the man have at it.

The beers were opened, and they drank and ate together, not saying a word.

Finally Illya spoke up. “I think you have outdone yourself and may have missed your calling. Perhaps when you retire you should look into becoming a chef in your own restaurant.”

“Why thank you tovarisch, but no thanks. Too much work. When I retire, I’d like to be a man of leisure, I think. Being carefree, sailing on my yacht, seeing the world at an easier pace while not having to worry about being shot.”

“That is a good dream.”

“How about you?”

“Oh I do not know, just doing research in a lab I suppose, that is if I live to retire,” he suddenly chuckled.”Maybe I should become a big fashion designer, you know haute couture.”

“You, a man whose color palette includes black on black most of the time.”

“There is also grey, blue and do not forget maroon.”

“Ahhh, lest I forget that maroon jacket of your,” Napoleon laughed as he took another sip of beer.

“It is not that bad...is it?” Illya canted his head.

“No it isn’t. I just enjoy teasing you about it that’s all. So it’s officially summer tovarisch. Let’s toast to that.”

They held up their beers. “To summer, may it be a good one,” Napoleon said.

At that exact moment Nurse Walsh walked into the room…

“Okay you two, enough of that,” she grabbed the beers from them and ordered Napoleon to leave.

“This is the thanks I get for slaving over a hot stove today?”

“Nice try, though the food was great it doesn’t give you a free pass Napoleon.”

“What was it you wished for summer to be?” Illya called out as he watched his partner slip out the door.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Ahhh but he would have had to snitch Cookie's entire stash as he couldn't just let one nurse have one...though Nurse Walsh and the others are sticklers in my other stories, so they bribe probably wouldn't have worked. Needless to say the barbecue didn't change her mind.

Enjoy your own barbecue this weekend and thanks for the comment. "D