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section7mfuThis is a quick, rough and ready story in response to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
glennagirl's prompt. As with a lot of my stories, this may be expanded one day.
Prompt - Illya needs a haircut.
.......................................................
“Lord Peregrine Whittaker, of Oxford, England has passed away,” Mr Waverly told his top two agents. “As such, his title and fortune passes to his eldest son, Gerard.”
“Forgive me, Sir, but how is that of interest to us?”
“If you wait, Mr Solo, I shall enlighten you.”
Napoleon could almost feel the grin Illya was suppressing in response to his chastisement.
“The new Lord Whittaker was last known to be living in New York, among the jazz fraternity,” Waverly continued. “The late Lord Whittaker was a friend the state governor, who has asked us to trace the young man. While this may not be in our remit, it does no harm to foster good relations.”
“How will we recognise him if we do find him?” asked Illya.
Waverly pushed a photograph across the tale of the last photo of Gerard Whittaker before he’d dropped out of university. He looked like the average upper-crust English heir.
“It is believed that he is going by the name . . .,” he looked down at the file in search of the name. “Swing Cat. You are to locate young Lord Whittaker and inform him of events. Everything you need to know is in this file.”
The agents stood and Napoleon picked up the file. Just before they left, Waverly called Illya back.
“If you should pass a barber, Mr Kuryakin, I will not mind if you take the time to get your hair cut. It’s beginning to become a little too long once again.”
“Yes Sir,”
It was Napoleon’s turn to hide his amusement.
…………………………………………………………………………………..
A few hours later, Solo and Kuryakin finally managed to find a trail. No-one seemed to want to talk to them. It wasn’t until Napoleon had to answer a call of nature as they entered a club, leaving Illya on his own momentarily, that they had their first sniff of a lead. As Solo was returning from the bathroom he noticed Illya give him their signal for ‘you don’t know me’. He changed course and went to wait in the car. It wasn’t long before his partner joined him.
“Success?” he asked, as Illya got in to the car.
“Partial,” the other man replied. “I know which club Swing Cat prefers to frequent. I also know why we’ve had no luck until now.”
“Do tell,”
“Apparently, you are a ‘Fed’,” Illya told him. “You look too much like the authorities.”
“And you blend right in,” Napoleon stated, understanding Illya’s meaning.
Armed with the information they needed, Illya found their quarry without any trouble. When he told the young man of his father’s death, he reacted in a way Illya wasn’t expecting. Given that father and son had apparently hated each other, no-one could have predicted just how distraught Gerard Whittaker would be. At first, Illya thought it was simply because he didn’t want to be a part of the nobility. As it turned out, Gerard had wanted to make amends with his father, but assumed he’d be rejected.
It wasn’t long before the new Lord Whittaker found himself on a plane; heading back to a very different life. Napoleon and Illya reported back to Waverly.
“I apologise, Sir,” said Illya, after the debriefing was through. “I haven’t had a chance to have my hair cut yet.”
“Not to worry, my boy,” Waverly replied, turning away to indicate the meeting was over. “Whenever is convenient. Though I can’t deny it was useful to you today.”
The End.
glennagirl's prompt. As with a lot of my stories, this may be expanded one day. Prompt - Illya needs a haircut.
.......................................................
“Lord Peregrine Whittaker, of Oxford, England has passed away,” Mr Waverly told his top two agents. “As such, his title and fortune passes to his eldest son, Gerard.”
“Forgive me, Sir, but how is that of interest to us?”
“If you wait, Mr Solo, I shall enlighten you.”
Napoleon could almost feel the grin Illya was suppressing in response to his chastisement.
“The new Lord Whittaker was last known to be living in New York, among the jazz fraternity,” Waverly continued. “The late Lord Whittaker was a friend the state governor, who has asked us to trace the young man. While this may not be in our remit, it does no harm to foster good relations.”
“How will we recognise him if we do find him?” asked Illya.
Waverly pushed a photograph across the tale of the last photo of Gerard Whittaker before he’d dropped out of university. He looked like the average upper-crust English heir.
“It is believed that he is going by the name . . .,” he looked down at the file in search of the name. “Swing Cat. You are to locate young Lord Whittaker and inform him of events. Everything you need to know is in this file.”
The agents stood and Napoleon picked up the file. Just before they left, Waverly called Illya back.
“If you should pass a barber, Mr Kuryakin, I will not mind if you take the time to get your hair cut. It’s beginning to become a little too long once again.”
“Yes Sir,”
It was Napoleon’s turn to hide his amusement.
…………………………………………………………………………………..
A few hours later, Solo and Kuryakin finally managed to find a trail. No-one seemed to want to talk to them. It wasn’t until Napoleon had to answer a call of nature as they entered a club, leaving Illya on his own momentarily, that they had their first sniff of a lead. As Solo was returning from the bathroom he noticed Illya give him their signal for ‘you don’t know me’. He changed course and went to wait in the car. It wasn’t long before his partner joined him.
“Success?” he asked, as Illya got in to the car.
“Partial,” the other man replied. “I know which club Swing Cat prefers to frequent. I also know why we’ve had no luck until now.”
“Do tell,”
“Apparently, you are a ‘Fed’,” Illya told him. “You look too much like the authorities.”
“And you blend right in,” Napoleon stated, understanding Illya’s meaning.
Armed with the information they needed, Illya found their quarry without any trouble. When he told the young man of his father’s death, he reacted in a way Illya wasn’t expecting. Given that father and son had apparently hated each other, no-one could have predicted just how distraught Gerard Whittaker would be. At first, Illya thought it was simply because he didn’t want to be a part of the nobility. As it turned out, Gerard had wanted to make amends with his father, but assumed he’d be rejected.
It wasn’t long before the new Lord Whittaker found himself on a plane; heading back to a very different life. Napoleon and Illya reported back to Waverly.
“I apologise, Sir,” said Illya, after the debriefing was through. “I haven’t had a chance to have my hair cut yet.”
“Not to worry, my boy,” Waverly replied, turning away to indicate the meeting was over. “Whenever is convenient. Though I can’t deny it was useful to you today.”
The End.
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Date: 2017-02-05 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-02-06 08:43 am (UTC)