section7mfu | That Kiss! PicFic Tuesday 3/4/14 (Reply)

“This does not look good.”

“Really? We’re dangling over a grated entrance to God only knows what, and all you can say is that it ‘does not look good?” Napoleon’s attempt to imitate his partner’s accent brought a smirk to the Russian’s face.

“Perhaps I could lie and say that we will most certainly find a way out of this predicament.” That brought a smirk to the American’s face, his usual optimism being mocked by the always dour Kuryakin was not helpful at the moment.

The two agents were indeed dangling above what looked like a grate, and at this height each of them were convinced that a fall would not only kill them, it would most likely be a means to shaving them into slices of very rare UNCLE filets.

“Don’t you have anything left of that armory you usually carry around on your person?” The hapless misfortune of this situation was an insult. To have been captured was bad enough, but stripped of every useful device and left to hang precariously above the threatening grate... Should they live to tell the tale, a few of the details might be left out for the sake of their pride.

“Are you actually going to place blame on me, Napoleon? Had you not followed that woman into her den of thieves...” How many times had Illya been a victim of his partner’s libido? How many times...

“Oh give it a rest Illya. Just because I saw a beautiful woman and wanted to investigate the possibilities...”

“Ha! Possibilities. Napoleon you are incorrigible and your romantic exploits have become hazardous to my health. I think...”

“Shhhh... Someone is coming.”

Both of them resumed an appropriate posture, hanging lifeless and forlorn for the benefit of whoever might be watching.

“Ah, my two gentlemen do not look comfortable. Too bad, I fear there is nothing I can do to relieve you of this... umm... unfortunate situation. My father has taken exception to Mr. Solo’s behavior last night, and I have taken exception to Mr. Kuryakin’s lack of interest.” Napoleon shot his blond partner a look that said volumes about who was at fault.

Napoleon decided to try cajoling the young woman, perhaps it wasn’t too late for charm. “Celeste my sweet, you wound me with your comments about Mr. Kuryakin. I thought it was me you wanted, and I was most willing.” Maybe the girl would help them out after all, especially if her father was not near enough to stop her.

“Mr. Solo, you are very sweet. And, while I find you very attractive and exceedingly charming... well, the heart wants what it wants. Mine seems to have a distinct yearning for Mr. Kuryakin...’ Celeste let that last part trail off a little, hopeful of something in return from the brooding Russian. “Alas, I do not see any hope for either of you as long as my heart has nothing in return for its affection.”

Napoleon turned to look at Illya, a glaring expression that demanded action from the recalcitrant agent. He mumbled something beneath his breath at which the other man shook his head, making his hair shimmer in the shaft of light that had focused on them.

“Do you mean to say, Celeste, that if Mr. Kuryakin were to change his mind and, uh... well, romance you, that you will free us from this rather tiresome position?” Illya shot his partner a look that seemed to hold a threat. Napoleon wasn’t sure and right now he didn’t much care. They could deal with that after Celeste set them free.

Illya knew what he needed to do, and with as much enthusiasm and with much gratitude for his acting aptitude, he finally spoke.

“Celeste, last night I was convinced that your heart truly belonged to my friend, Napoleon. I dared not interfere, even though my eyes were captivated by your beauty and my voice longed to speak what my heart was feeling within me. I can only now hope that it is not too late.” Such sincere sentiments, accompanied by a guileless expression that immediately melted Celeste’s resolve to punish the two UNCLE agents.

“Oh, Mr. Kuryakin... Illya... I knew my father was wrong about you. He said such awful things, he said...” Illya stopped her. “Truly, I have no need of hearing your father’s objections to me, only that you will not reject me.” Again his eyes conveyed a warmth she could feel as he hung precariously above the menace beneath them. It was not a romantic environment, to be sure, and yet the moment was galvanized within her as a picture of true love.

Celeste went to work uncoupling the ropes and pulleys, lowering Solo and Kuryakin to the platform on which she stood. The gaping hole beyond the grate was now more clearly evident to the men as they finally touched down on solid wood. The nature and purpose of the thing was a subject for another time.

As Celeste untied them and murmured endearments to Illya, Napoleon was busy surveying their surroundings, hoping to not spot any THRUSH personnel. Fortunately, Celeste had come here undetected, and they were quickly away from the site and heading for the girl’s car.

When the trio reached Celeste’s little red Carmen Ghia, as Napoleon was climbing in behind the wheel, Illya took the smitten young woman in his arms and pulled her close. She looked expectantly into the brilliant blue eyes she had admired and was gratified when his lips closed on hers in a passionate kiss that nearly sent her to her knees. Strong arms held her until he had positioned himself near the door; releasing her he backed into the car just as Napoleon turned the key, shifted into drive and hit the gas pedal. Celeste was slow in recognizing what happened, her mind still reeling from that kiss. When she did come to her senses and saw the car disappearing into the night, she merely shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

It was worth it to lose the car.

The kiss was enough to satisfy her.

For now.