section7mfu | "Always a bridesmaid..." for the Short Affair Challenge (Reply)

I'm playing catch up as the prompts here were due for the October 1st posting.

Challenge: The Short Affair

Prompt 1: bride
Prompt 2: stick
Color: silver
Author: mrua7
Title: "Always a bridesmaid..."
Word Count: Approx 715

Napoleon Solo appeared in the hallway outside the hotel room he was sharing (as usual) with his partner.

He gave their coded knock on the door instead of just opening it with his key...no need to catch Illya off guard, not that he’d be doing anything other than reading or sleeping.

It was post mission and they were in Paris; Mr. Waverly had graciously given them a few days R&R on the organization’s dime, but not without a caveat, warning Napoleon to not be extravagant in his spending. The consequences would be severe as anything deemed over the top was threatened to be take out of Solo’s next paycheck.

“Ouch...” that was the only thing Napoleon said before closing his communicator, but the Old Man's threat wouldn’t put a damper on his night out in beau Paris!

There was an obvious pause before Kuryakin answered the door, leaving him wonder if Solo had lost his key or some such. Napoleon had gone out earlier, dressed in a tuxedo with was no discussion as to his destination. He only muttered that he’d be back...eventually.

Illya picked up his terry cloth robe and quickly donned it.

When he finally opened the door he found his partner standing there accompanied by two beautiful woman, each clinging to his arms.

The one on his right was a blonde dressed in a glittering silver gown and she had the proverbial hourglass figure.The other woman was a radiant brunette, and equally as beautiful; she was wearing a red sequined dress, the hem of which voluptuously cascaded around her feet.

“Bonsoir Monsieur Kuryakin,” Napoleon flashed a charming smile. “May I introduce Mademoiselle Delphine, and Mademoiselle Fabienne. They are our dates for this evening. So get yourself dressed tout de suite; we’re going out on the town tovarisch. Ladies, this is my friend, Illya Kuryakin."

His partner immediately shook his head no, though Illya did reach out and gently stroke Delphine’s cheek, flashing her a slight smile.

“Merci, but no thank you. I will stick with my plans for the evening and will not change them even for such a lovely lady. Go enjoy yourself Napoleon as I know how only you can do. Bonne nuit my friend, ladies,” Illya bowed his head as he closed the door in their faces.

“Your loss,” the American called out.

“Napoléon,” Delphine asked.”Does your friend not like women?”

“Oh he likes women very much, but he’s Russian and can sometimes be a bit moody, or should I say melancholy? When he’s like that, he prefers to be alone. He’s a lot like being a bridesmaid and never a bride I suppose when it comes to the ladies.”

“I don’t understand Napoléon,” Fabienne said. “My grasp of the English language is not my...how you say, forte.”

“It’s not important lovely lady,” he tapped her on the tip of her pert nose with his index finger.

“You two are still in for a treat this evening, just the three of us.”

“A ménage à trois?” The two women blurted out together.

Napoleon paused, he had to put it the right way, otherwise he could lose them

“That’s up to you ladies. Delphine, Fabienne?”

“Oui,” the two women giggled their agreement as they walked towards the elevator, sandwiching Napoleon between the two of them.

“First dinner and then the Folies Bergère, mais non?”

“Mais ouis,” Napoleon smiled. Tonight was his lucky night, in a way thanks to his partner. He should have known better as Illya was a creature of habit when it came to his post mission activities.

“Vive la révolution sexuelle,” Solo chuckled as he pressed the down button for the elevator and the doors with a ‘ding.’

Kuryakin was listening at the door and smiled to himself. Once he knew Napoleon and the women were gone he let his bathrobe drop.

Walking into the bedroom, he sighed as he pulled down the covers.

“Eel-yah, what took you so long? I was getting lonely.”

A buxom blonde was lying there in all her naked glory.

“Now where were we my dear Giselle?” Illya slipped into bed with her, not wasting any time…

“Ooooh...Eel-yah,” she moaned.