"The plan" for the What's My Line? challenge 10/27

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

The prompt: I don't believe you said that!


Dr. Charlie Cummings of the psych department sat in the Commissary eating his salami on white bread sandwich for lunch. He ate that everyday, bringing it from home, and only purchasing his coffee.

The balding man with thick glasses, sitting there in his white lab coat was eavesdropping on the banter going back and forth between Solo and Kuryakin; they were seated at their usual table in the back corner.

These two were always blowing off their appointments with him and it seemed like it took an order from Alexander Waverly to get either of these  agent onto his couch for a session.

At the moment Cummings felt like he had a ringside seat, listening in and hanging on every word.

Much to his delight, it was an animated conversation with the Russian’s hands flying expressively as he spoke.; emphasizing certain words by pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand.

Charlie couldn’t quite make out everything being said, but what he heard was enough to come to a conclusion that these men had definite problems.

it seemed as though Napoleon was quite bemused with his partner.  Apparently the more silent Solo remained, the more determined Kuryakin became to get his point across.

“Napoleon you can be quite infuriating at times.”

“And so can you. Illya sometimes you can actually be a real pain in my...posterior. You’re always lecturing me on subjects about which I could care less, and there are times you treat me like I’m a dullard...and you who can fluently converse in dozens of languages somehow just can’t use a contraction when speaking English.”

“Oh really? This from a man who constantly borrows money from me to finance his womanizing, a man who has left me literally hanging while he was off dallying with a woman, a man who has the unmitigated gall to insult how I date a woman...and, and a man who can not do his own damn paperwork time and again!” Illya normally pale skin was now pink with anger. His blood pressure was up for sure.

“I don’t believe you said that,” Napoleon pushed back his chair, throwing his napkin on his tray. “I think we’re done here, and maybe permanently if that’s the way you think of me tovar...Mr. Kuryakin.” Solo picked up his tray and brought it to the counter.

“Fine by me,” Illya called out. “I was getting tired of you anyway!” He swallowed the last of his tea, gathered his tray and also took it to the counter as, heading out the Commissary doors as well. He glanced over his shoulder looking back at Cummings.

The man was practically giddy with delight. ”At last, some true resentments coming out. I just knew it couldn’t be all roses and sunshine with those two. No one as tightly wound as they are could keep up this false front of friendship forever." He was finally seeing what they really thought of each other.

As Illya stepped out into the corridor he spotted Napoleon leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed in front of himself.

“So Spike, think it worked?” He smiled.

"Without a doubt my friend. The good doctor was nearly beside himself with glee.” Illya nodded.

They began walking side by side, heading back to their office.

“It was pretty mean tovarisch.”

“He will be fine. Our little play acting will keep him busy for a long time. I am so tired of his prying and presuming. The man looks for trouble when there is none. He tried to have me confined to a mental institution twice for observation.”

Napoleon chuckled.”Well you are a crazy Russian, aren’t you?”

“Not funny Napoleon. As I recall he tried labelling you some sort of perverted sexual predator who stalks women.”

“Which is why I decided to go along with your little scheme tovarisch,” Napoleon hesitated.”Don’t you think it could backfire on us...he might want to see us more than he already has.”

“And we will dodge him as we always have. When he sees us getting along, while remaining successful in our missions, Cummings will be doing nothing but scratching his head and questioning himself and his ability to diagnose his, ahem... victims.”

“Cruel Illya, cruel.” Napoleon came to a stop, running his fingers along Kuryakin’s lapel. “Did you really mean those things you said about me?”

Illya rolled his eyes before clicking his tongue. “You really believe I would?”

“Well, I do borrow money from you for my dates but not all the time, and I admit I have left you hanging once or twice while being with a woman, and I have periodically made fun of your dating habits, and I know I ask your help a lot with my reports…but you don’t think I’m stupid do you?”

“No I do not Napoleon my friend, far from it. Now let’s get to the office so we can finish up that paperwork of yours. You have a date to keep with Mandy as I recall, oh and here is, “Illya reached into his pocket,” the twenty you asked to borrow.”

“Thank you tovarisch, you’re a pal.” Napoleon snapped up the bill, and stuffed it into his own pocket. "Hey,"he suddenly realized," you can use contractions...you smart Russian you."

Illya merely shrugged.

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

This is a very nice little fic, and the plot (Illya's) is great. Iwonder if Dr Cummings (another good oc) ever realises he was had?

Good dialogue, too! The last paragraph is a fine tie off.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it. I suspect the good doctor will eventually catch on, but not until he's done a lot of head scratching. :D

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Dr Cummings is not going to be a happy man when he realises they were playing with him. I love the way Illya proved he didn't mean what he said :-)

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Notice Illya didn't question what Napoleon said about him? Without admitting to anything, he knew it was mostly true, and he even used a contraction to prove Napoleon wrong. LOL!

Thanks for the comment and glad you enjoyed the story.

[lilidelafield.livejournal.com]

Ah I thoroughly enjoyed that one. A little deception and subterfuge, and a good giggle for me. Thank you!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it!

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

I absolutely LOVE this. I will admit I saw it coming. Those two are always aware of their surroundings at all times. (Who taught me that?) And I have wondered why so many writers don't use contractions for IK's dialogue. Reminds me of Data on Star Trek.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Well the title did sort of give it away... still, glad you liked the story.

Actually not that many writers don't use contractions for IK, the non-contraction ones are more in the minority.

In my experience with foreign language learners from countries where there are no contractions, they have trouble with them in the beginning (among other screwy things in the English language) plus not using contractions makes him sound more like a foreigner without having to get into 'dialect' all that often. In canon he does, but I'm so used to writing him this way that I don't even think about it. It's a little harder to write at times as it gets into some complicated sentence structure.

[pfrye.livejournal.com]

Very clever - I can see the enjoyment IK and NS would have in pulling the wool over the shrinks eyes. Love the last paragraphs with IK's comments.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. Yeah they sort of hate 'shrinks' so pulling the wool over the eyes of one of them, especially one who tried to commit Illya and accused Napoleon of being a perverted sexual predator. They could have done a lot worse to him, that's for sure.

[yumyumpm.livejournal.com]

You've covered all the bases. Especially the contractions!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Chuckle...thank you!! :D