section7mfu | An Interrupted Fishing Trip for picfic Tuesday 11/19 (Reply)

"Look, Uncle Napoleon! My first catch!"

Napoleon struggled not to laugh as he looked at the tiny fish lying on the dock next to his flip flop. Not counting the tail, it was about the size of his big toe. "That's a good one, Jeremy," he said encouragingly.

Jeremy was Napoleon's seven-year-old nephew, and he'd promised to take him fishing on his next day off.

Suddenly Napoleon's communicator chirped. "It is very important that you come right away, Napoleon," said Illya's voice. "Two THRUSH agents we have been trailing for weeks have just entered Del Floria's, and I need your help to apprehend them. I shall try to stall them until you get here."

"I'll be there as quickly as possible. Solo out." Napoleon glanced down at his ripped T-shirt, cut-off jean shorts, and flip flops in dismay, knowing he'd barely have time to drop Jeremy off at his sister's before heading for Del Floria's.

"Aw, do we have to leave now?" Jeremy protested when he heard the news.

"I'm sorry, buddy,"Napoleon told him. "You know this is how my job is. I'll make it up to you as soon as I can."

Knowing that it would be useless to protest, Jeremy scowled but said no more.

Napoleon arrived at Del Floria's to find his partner cowering in a corner, both THRUSH agents having pulled their guns on him.

Napoleon grabbed one agent by the arm and flipped him over his head, at the same time viciously kicking the other in the abdomen and causing him to double over in pain. Illya immediately sprang from the corner and delivered a lethal blow to the second agent's neck, rupturing his windpipe and killing him instantly.

"Look out!" the Russian yelled, seconds before the first agent hit Napoleon on the back of the head with his gun, knocking him out cold. Illya and the enemy agent struggled for the gun momentarily. Illya won and was able to hold the other man at bay until the clean-up crew could get there, which, considering their location, wasn't long at all.

Napoleon came around after awhile, holding the back of his head and groaning in pain.

"Well, my friend, you are...how do you say it?...a sight for sore eyes," Illya told his partner with a grin. If the American hadn't been in so much pain, he would have realized that in his ripped t-shirt, cut-off jean shorts, and flip flops, he did indeed look like an unlikely hero. "I didn't have time to go back home and change," he gasped.

"It does appear that I interrupted something," Illya replied. "I am sorry."

"That's all right." The endorphins were finally beginning to kick in, allowing Napoleon to think straight once again. "It was just a fishing trip with my nephew. I can take him some other time."

"Fishing? It is a nice day for it," Illya commented. "In fact, if your head is not bothering you too much, it is not too late in the day to resume such an activity."

"My head will be fine," Napoleon said with the typical UNCLE stoicism. "If Waverly has no current need of your services, why don't you join us? I know one little boy that that would make very happy."