Hirondelle - For MRUA7's Birthday

[fiorenza-a.livejournal.com]

Marian looked down at her torn frock and sighed. Months of scrimping and saving ruined in a moment's inattention.

She didn't blame Napoleon, he'd hadn't meant for her frock to be torn. He'd been trying to help. If he hadn't grabbed her when he had, the dress would have been covered in wet paint too.

A little thread, a little ingenuity and the dress would be wearable again.

If anyone was to blame, it was Napoleon's partner. Illya had removed the wet paint sign because it had been misspelled. He'd been remonstrating with the overall clad contractor and had taken the sign to show the man his mistake.

It was sheer bad luck that Marian had chanced upon the scene at that precise moment and worse luck that she'd come to work with a head cold. She'd chosen to wear her best frock to cheer herself up. She hadn't smelled the paint because of her cold and, because of her cold, her lovely new dress was all but ruined.

Still, she thought gamely, it wouldn't look too bad if she sewed it up and wore a scarf to disguise the mend. It would probably look quite pretty, in fact. She could even pin the scarf in place with a brooch, so that it didn't move and inadvertently expose the repair. Only she would know her lovely dress was flawed.

Always the gentleman, Napoleon had been extremely apologetic about the incident but both he and Illya had only been in New York to pick up Mr Waverly. A helicopter had whisked the three of them away not twenty minutes later, leaving Marian alone with her torn frock.

Marian slipped on her cardigan and buttoned it all the way up, the best she would be able to do until the end of her working day. Her duties at U.N.C.L.E. had to come first, too much depended on her doing her job. Mr Waverly liked to compare U.N.C.L.E. to a Swiss watch, no cog or spring insignificant to its workings. Starry eyed schoolboys might be dazzled by the dash and glamour of agents like Illya and Napoleon, but the organisation itself depended as much upon the men and women who supported them and valued them just as highly.

Marian spent the rest of the day diligently discharging her duties, barely sparing a wistful thought for her torn dress until it was time to go home. On the way home she stopped at Del Floria's to beg some thread to match her dress and that evening, after a light supper, she sat under her brightest lamp and mended her damaged frock.

In the morning, as she had promised, she stopped by the tailor's shop with a few flowers from her window box to brighten the grateful tailor's day. Then she headed for her workstation to commence her assignments for the morning.

As she neared her customary workspace she noticed a small crowd had gathered. Smiling slightly with embarrassment, she approached her workmates. The little gathering parted to reveal a gaily wrapped parcel and several white envelopes.

Her birthday, they had remembered her birthday.

Marian blushed happily and picked up the first envelope. Thirty minutes later her workstation resembled a small art gallery, greetings cards propped and pinned around it. The parcel had contained a perfume she loved but whose price she could rarely justify. At the behest of her colleagues she dabbed a little behind her ears and, as it always did, the scent made her feel like a film star.

As the convivial party dispersed and returned to work, Marian spotted an envelope she'd missed in all the happy chatter. It was much smaller than the others and, since she'd thanked each person for their card in turn, she knew that it couldn't be from one of her teammates.

Puzzled, Marian opened the envelope. Inside was a business card upon which was embossed the lone word 'Hirondelle'. On the reverse, in a neat, businesslike script, was written 'four o'clock'. Marian checked the envelope again, it had definitely been addressed to her and nothing but the business card had been contained within.

Marian worried at the mystery throughout the day, but as four o'clock approached her curiosity got the better of her and she slipped her new perfume into her bag and bade her generous companions farewell.

Having no idea where or what 'Hirondelle' could be, Marian treated herself to a cab and instructed the driver to take her there. Much to her relief, the journey was a relatively short one and terminated outside a smart door in an exclusive looking street. However, when Marian tried to pay her fare, the driver simply shook his head and informed her that his company billed 'Hirondelle' directly. It was an arrangement the establishment had with all the cab companies. Now utterly perplexed, Marian insisted on at least tipping the driver and got out.

As Marian approached the glossy black door with its polished brass fittings it swung open to reveal a neatly dressed woman with rather severe features. Nervously, Marian handed over the business card with 'four o'clock' written on it.

The woman nodded in a genteel, businesslike manner and requested that Marian follow her. Feeling very out of place, Marian obediently trailed after the woman until they reached a plain white door. The woman opened the door, announced Marian to the lady waiting within and withdrew.

Marian entered the room and stood uncertainly before the lady to whom she had just been announced. The lady smiled kindly and offered her a seat. Marian moved to sit in one of the ornate chairs, aware that the lady was discreetly scrutinising her every movement. The lady rang a small bell and a liveried maid appeared carrying a tray laden with a bone china tea service and tiny fancies of cake. The maid poured a cup of tea to Marian's specifications, bobbed a courtesy and left.

The lady then sat down and began to quizz Marian about her favourite flowers, the colours she liked, the perfumes she wore, the style of shoe she preferred and how she liked to wear her hair. The lady seemed genuinely interested in everything Marian had to say, clarifying with Marian anything she found contradictory or obscure. After a while Marian began to forget her discomfort and relaxed, talking freely about all the things she loved.

At the end of their conversation the lady smiled and announced that she had just the thing for Marian. Marian frowned in puzzlement as the lady rang the small bell again. This time no maid appeared, instead a young woman walked through the door wearing a dress which seemed to have stepped straight from Marian's dreams. Marian gasped at the loveliness of it.

Then the lady further astounded Marian by asking if she'd like to try the dress on and suddenly Marian decided that she would like that very much indeed.

Expecting merely to be ushered to a changing room, Marian was surprised to be taken to something which seemed more reminiscent of a beauty salon. She was handed a robe and surrounded by screens so that she might change into it.

Once changed, she was led away and found herself delivered into the hands of a series of determinedly capable people, all of whom seemed intent on pampering, powdering, massaging and manicuring her. Her hair was set, her face painted, her nails polished and finally her feet shod in exquisite shoes.

At last, prinked and preened to the satisfaction of all involved, she was allowed to put on the dress. Then a mirror was brought and stood before her and for a few confused moments Marian searched the glass for her reflection, until it slowly dawned on her that the impossibly glamorous creature gazing back at her was her reflection.

Marian stared in wonder, dumbfounded and happy. She turned this way and that, waiting for the illusion to shatter, but it didn't.

''Beautiful'' said a voice behind her and Marian almost forgot herself and agreed, but instead, recovering her modesty, she turned to thank her admirer for the compliment.

Dressed in his evening suit, his blonde hair a halo of soft hues, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief and affection, stood Illya.

Marian blushed furiously, wondering what Illya must make of her childish dalliance before the mirror.

''Hirondelle has dressed Princesses, but I don't believe it has ever been put to better use'' Illya informed her ''The effect is lacking only one thing.''

With that Illya produced a corsage. Marian reached to take it from him, but he shook his head, stepping in close to pin it to her.

''Would milady consent to my company for dinner?'' Illya murmured as he secured the flower.

Marian nodded her happy agreement as Illya explained ''Napoleon and I are very sorry about the dress we damaged. By way of recompense, Napoleon offers your shoes and I your dress. We very much hope you will accept them.''

Marian smiled her ready acceptance of both the apology and the gifts.

Illya returned the smile, only then moving his hands from the exotic bloom pinned to Marian's dress to retrieve a slim blue box from inside his jacket ''Good'' he said, slipping a sparkling bracelet from the box and fastening it around Marian's wrist. Then he kissed her gently on the cheek and whispered ''Happy Birthday'' into her ear, before wrapping her gown's matching stole around her shoulders and offering his arm to lead her to dinner.

END

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Thank you for sharing this lovely present with the comm. That mystery trip is a brilliant touch!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I'm breathless! What a wonderfully exquisite fantasy. I know what I'll be dreaming about tonight! Thank you thank you so much for writing this for me! You have helped make it a wonderful birthday for me!