section7mfu | Body - A Little Double Drabble Do Ya!

This is the result of a drabble switch with colonial_teapot.

“May I borrow your comb? Mine is too wide-toothed.” Illya looked very serious.

“Sure,” said Napoleon, fishing for his own pocket comb. “But you've been fussing with your hair for the entire flight. It looks fine.”

“I need more body. And a more natural look. Ah, thank you,” he said as Napoleon handed him the comb. He parked it in his still-damp hair and removed from his pocket a little palm-sized container, which he used to dispense a dollop of what looked like shaving cream into his other palm.

“What's that?”

“It's called mousse. It's French. It'll be all the rage in fifteen years.”

Napoleon watched, bemused, as Illya's hair transfigured itself into a stiff bouffant.

They had succeeded in getting themselves captured, which was good. They'd also been stripped to their shorts, which struck Napoleon as less good. He paced through the cell for the dozenth time. “So what do we do now?”

“Well,” said Illya, “I've still got enough explosive to get us out of here and to destroy the prototype. Also a couple of smoke bombs, if we need them.”

“Where?!”

“Woven to my scalp. Just let me get the razor blade out of my false toenail…”