section7mfu | Napoleon’s Muse Cont.

Napoleon awoke with a headache and the disturbing feeling that he wasn't alone. There was a slight scuffling noise coming from the other room, then a muttered curse, and he relaxed. As he dozed off again he suddenly realised that he didn't actually recognise the voice and sat bolt upright; listening out for more sounds.

He'd expected to hear Illya's voice coming from his room; they'd been out doing some serious drinking last night, post mission, but now he was hearing a woman's voice and she didn't sound happy. Napoleon slid out from beneath the covers and tiptoed to the door, trying to get a better idea of who it was reading his partner the riot act. Even at his most sober, Spanish had never been his best language, but a few translations floated up through the sea of cerveza tossing wildly in his brain: his partner had accepted this woman’s drink, and now she expected something in return.