"I know something you don't know" for the PicFic Tuesday Challenge

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I almost forgot to post this!


The prompt:

Napoleon and Illya were given a room together in the Medical Suite located at the New York Headquarters of the U.N.C.L.E.

They’d suffered multiple injuries, not on an assignment but if a rather messy car wreck in lower Manhattan.

Illya was driving one of the motor pool cars, not the usual Impala or Cadillac; this particular model was apparently one of his favorites to drive.  It was a British MG convertible sports car painted bright red.

The weather happened to be beautiful; it was early spring and so far it had been off to a chilly start. Today the temperature had it seventy-five degrees and that warranted putting the top down.

They were headed to Katz’s deli as Napoleon said he was ‘jonesing’ for one of their pastrami on rye sandwiches.

“An odd use of the term, “Illya said.” Jonesing associated with the drug scene, especially in New York.  Heroin as well as heroin addicts, dealers, withdrawals, and drug addiction itself are all colloquially referred to as jones and Mr. Jones. An unsubstantiated story I have heard suggests Jones Alley in Manhattan serves as a hub for heroin addicts.”

“You’ll be interested to know tovarisch, that the term jonesing can also mean having a strong desire for something.”

“That makes sense as addicts also have a strong desire for their drugs.”

Napoleon smiled, firstly because he knew something that his encyclopedic partner did not, and secondly he didn’t have to listen to Illya’s further spouting of facts. Though that probably wouldn’t last for long.

Kuryakin was more than willing to go to Katz’s with his partner as he suddenly found himself craving one of their well known Reuben sandwiches. Is salivary glands kicked in at the thought of it. Rye bread toasted on a grill with sauerkraut, Russian dressing and a nearly obscene amount of corned beef.  It was Illya’s kind of sandwich.

It was a straight drive from headquarters to East Houston Street where the deli was located. Illya turned up the radio and tapped his hands in time with the music. It was a station that played only jazz.

“Will you please change the station?” Napoleon shouted as it was just too loud.

“What?”

“Change the music…oh hell,” Napoleon turned the dial to a station the played popular music.

“Oh no, I drive; we play my music!”

“What?”

At that moment a yellow cab darted in front of them. Illya slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision but the bus following behind them slammed into the rear of the MG.

The sports car folded like a concertina, leaving the agents trapped in the wreckage.

And now they lay in the Medical Suites, Illya with a fractured foot, tibia and femur. His right hand was broken as was his wrist. A minute speck of glass had gotten into his right eye.

Napoleon suffered a broken right arm and was luckier than his partner.

Neither man was speaking to the other, that was until April Dancer arrived with a sandwich order from Katz’s deli.

“I heard these were what you were going for when your trip was cut short,” she opened up the bag and set each sandwich on the bed trays.

“Thank you,” Illya said as he unwrapped his sandwich.” At least someone in this room has some consideration for me.”

“And what’s that supposed to me?” Napoleon sneered.

“I was the driver of the car and you did not respect the unwritten rule that the driver chooses the radio station. This is all your fault; had I not been distracted by your childish behavior then I would have been able to avoid the taxi and prevent the bus from rear ending us.”

“My fault? Not a chance my stubborn friend. You can’t make me a scapegoat for your lousy driving.”

“I am a lousy driver? Fine, next time we have to go somewhere by car, you drive, but you better not get us lost like you always do!”

“Boys boys, stop your feuding. It was an accident and even the best of us can get caught up in one.”

Both of them glared at her.

“Fine, you’re going to act like children, then I’ll take your sandwiches away from you and you can eat….green jello until you’re green in the face!”

That of course made no sense, but Napoleon and Illya grabbed their respective sandwiches to protect them.

Their looks had changed to those of pouting children.

“All right, you can keep your sandwiches as long as you two make up and behave yourselves. Promise?”

“I promise, Scout’s honor,” Napoleon said.

“I promise as well,” Illya chimed in.

“Good. Now if I find out you’ve lied to me...and I will. Then no Chinese food from Chang's for you tonight.”

Given agent's aversion to the food served here, she knew she'd pushed the right button with that threat. April watched with satisfaction as two pairs of eyebrows arched in surprise.

“Peace Illya? I’m sorry," Napoleon spoke first.

“As am I; yes peace, my friend.”

Dancer turned and walked out, grinning from ear to ear. “A job well done,” she said to herself. She spoke to the nurse’s station as she passed it.

“You can thank me later ladies.” She sauntered to the elevator and when the doors opened, she stepped in with not another word said.

April Dancer smiled again as the doors closed… that smile changed to a frown when she realized how mad Alexander Waverly was at his two best agents for getting into a car wreck.

The head of the motor pool was fit to be tied as the new MG was totalled. He was going to recommend that going forward motor pool cars were no longer available for agents not on an assignment, even thought the accident wasn't Illya's fault.

A/N: Chang’s Chinese restaurant is a favorite of Napoleon and Illya in my stories.

Comments

[threecee.livejournal.com]

Good use of that picture. April is one smart cookie who knows the way to manipulate those two is through their stomachs.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much. Everyone has their weaknesses, don't they? Even our brave MFU. "D