"The Risks of the Job" for the Short Affair prompt from 1/14/19

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Still catching up!

Challenge: The Short Affair

-Prompt Word 1 - Jail

-Prompt Word 2 – Soggy

-Prompt Colour – Black

Author: mrua7

Title: ‘The risks of the job’

Word Count: Approx. 950

He supposed he didn’t mind his stay in jail; he had no concerns as he’d be released soon enough. Of this he was fairly certain.

There was no worrying about trying to escape, or being interrogated and tortured; not this time.The only think of concern was the other men he was in lockup with as they left something to be desired.

Most were drunks sleeping it off, while a few others had been arrested for brawling. He stuck to himself in the corner at the end of a wooden bench, avoiding making eye contact with any of them.

Illya Kuryakin had been arrested as being a scofflaw of all things... for not paying his parking tickets in New York city. It was his fault for forgetting to submit them to be paid by the accounting section.

Today he’d double parked the car he was driving, which in the city was sometimes a necessity as parking was at a premium on a rainy day.

He was on a mission, well actually a favor for Mister Waverly, and that was to pick up an order at the Old Man’s tobacconist. Apparently he’d run out of his favorite tobacco, Isle of Dogs No. 22.

When Illya exited the tobacco shop an officer was standing there in rain gear waiting for him. He was writing out a ticket for the car being double parked.

There was nothing Kuryakin could do, being double parked was illegal and he knew it. He just took the chance and this time he’d lost.

Once Illya handed over his driver’s license that was it...apparently his name was on a newly issued scofflaw list for unpaid parking tickets.

He was handcuffed, taken to the nearest precinct and allowed his one phone call, which was to headquarters of course. The U.N.C.L.E. car was impounded.

Now Kuryakin sat, dressed in his black suit and turtleneck; he was soggy from being in the rain. He wasn’t offered a towel, or even a blanket.

What did it matter? He’d be bailed out as soon as the parking tickets were paid.  Illya did however, chastise himself for not turning those annoyances into accounting.

He was usually quite fastidious about such things but apparently he’d missed a few, mostly because the tickets were tossed aside while in pursuit of an enemy agent, or stuffed beneath the car seat; out of sight out of mind.

The motorpool people were supposed to clean out the automobiles once returned from an assignment and should have found said parking tickets, but apparently they were sometimes missed. In this case the tickets totalled nearly a dozen...

“Why hello there,” a voice spoke to Kuryakin from the other side of the cell door.

Illya looked up, seeing his partner standing there, grinning from ear to ear.

“Come to rescue me I presume?” He said, rising from the wooden bench on which he sat.

“I don’t know, maybe I should let you stay in here to learn a lesson.”

“Napoleon…” Illya growled. He noticed Mr. Waverly’s humidor tucked under the man’s arm.

“Relax, you’ve been bailed out. The tickets paid and you’re home free.” Solo gestured to the officer to open the cell door.

“Hey Mister, how ‘bout bailing me out?” One of the drunks called out. “My wife is gonna kill me for not comin’ home.”

“Sorry my good man,” Napoleon patted his suit

pockets,”but I’m all tapped out.”

Illya stepped through the door, pausing but a second to let out a loud sneeze.

“Ahhhh-CHOOO!”

Napoleon stepped back, for all the good it would do.

“You better not give me a cold,” he said.”I have a date with that new nurse Patricia Urban”

“Oh I am sure you will receive tender ministrations from her regardless of whether you are sick or not,” Illya quipped.

“How right you are tovar...partner mine,” Napoleon caught himself; better not to use any Russian words in the middle of the Cold War; one never knew who was listening.

They returned to headquarters with Illya going straight up to Medical accompanied by his partner.

Kuryakin was feeling very much out of sorts, worse than the symptoms of a mere cold.  Napoleon had begun to complain as well; he couldn’t have caught Illya’s cold this quickly.

After a thorough examination they received the bad news.

“I’m afraid gentlemen you both have a case of the flu. Bed rest for the both of you, and quarantine I might add. Can’t have you both infecting headquarters,” Doctor Greene’s pronouncement  sounded more like a sentence.

“You will make sure Mister Waverly’s tobacco is delivered to his conference room,” Illya said.

“Yes, Nurse Urban is dropping it off as we speak. She’s heading home after that...a little miffed about a date being cancelled tonight and for the foreseeable future. You didn’t waste time asking her out Napoleon.”

“For all the good it did me,” Solo grumbled.

So much for your evening with Patricia,” Illya whispered as he snuggled under the blankets of his hospital bed, pulling them over his head.

Napoleon was in next the bed and wasn’t happy at all.

“Shut up.”He rolled over, turning his back to his partner. “This is your fault.”

“No it is not. As you recall you captured that THRUSH operative who was ill. He was transported to the field office in New Jersey by both of us, just us alone in the car with him.”

His words fell on deaf ears as for once Napoleon was already sound asleep. It was usually Kuryakin who managed to do that, but not this time.

That would give the Russian the opportunity to plot his revenge against his partner once they were both well, of course.

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Naughty, naughty Illya, and I had a feeling he would get ill. I bet Mr Waverly was more upset by the delay in the arrival of his humidor.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thanks cuz! You can never make your heroes 'perfect,' though we get them as close as possible, don't we? It's good to make IK a bit naughty now and then.

With IK and NS having the flu, I think the boss would be a bit forgiving, especially if Illya hadn't delivered it personally and exposed him to the germs. "D