"Napoleon just loves it when a plan comes together," ~ for the What's My Line Challenge

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: What’s my line? # 2

Title: “Napoleon just loves it when a plan comes together.”

The prompt: In light of the current circumstances

Author: mrua7

Word count: Approximately 1500

It was that time again; the monthly Section head budget meeting to which Solo and Kuryakin were obligated to attend; though in the past they had both managed to weasel out of it because of assignments, being confined to medical or just making themselves disappear for the day. A trick they had mastered when it came to their annual psych exams as well.

This time, however they were doomed, as Mr. Waverly himself had ordered them to attend and write reports on what was discussed as well as their views on the meeting.

“A book report,” Napoleon moaned prior to entering the agents conference room. “He wants us to write a god-damned book report?”

“What is that? I am not familiar with this book report?” Illya asked, genuinely not having heard the term before. “Is it like our mission reports?”

“You didn’t have to do them when you were in school?”

“If you would explain what they are, I will be able to answer.”

“A book report is a method by which a child demonstrates to their teacher how well they understood a book they’ve read and tell what they thought about it.”

“Oh and no I never had to do such a thing. If we read a book it usually consisted of our teacher telling us what it meant. Free thought was not exactly encouraged where I came from if you recall. However, unlike schoolchildren here, I did receive quite a bit of punishment for speaking my mind and challenging my teachers for expressing my so-called opinion.”

“Oh so that’s where you get it from.”

“Get what?”

“Why a slap on the wrist still doesn’t work for you.”

“Napoleon again you are being unclear, and you think that was how I was punished?”

“Why, what did your teachers do to you.”

“Usually a whipping across the back with a heavy leather strop.  The scars I bear are not all from my sessions with T.H.R.U.S.H.” Illya said nonchalantly.

Napoleon cringed, deciding to change the subject. “So I have a game plan to get us out of this meeting tovarisch,” he winked.

“Oh no, “ Kuryakin waggled his finger in Solo’s face.”That would be going against Mr. Waverly’s wishes and though I braved physical punishments back in U.S.S.R I will not subject myself to the Old Man’s verbal assault which to me is far worse than a beating with a …”

“Chicken.”

“Beg pardon? What does a chicken...oh wait I remember, your colloquial term for cowardice. Yes, when it comes to Mr. Waverly I suppose I am chicken...or to put it more precisely, I respect his authority enough not to countermand his instructions.”

Napoleon flashed his partner the stinkeye,” Yeah, except when it comes to psych exams,” he chuckled.

“Well there are certain exceptions for which I will deviate from orders,” Illya shyly smiled…”again unlike you.”

“Wait a second. Are you insinuating I don’t respect our boss.”

Kuryakin suddenly became very tight-lipped.

“You’re not answering my question.”

“And I will continue to do so lest I incriminate myself further.”

“Illya just follow my lead, trust me tovarisch.” Napoleon removed a small piece of foil from his suit pocket and opening it; he revealed a capsule containing a colorless liquid.

“What is that?”

“Plausible deniability chum.”

“In that case I withdraw my question. Napoleon you are on your own in this endeavor,” Illya rolled his eyes in astonishment.

“You say that now my friend,”Napoleon smiled,” but you’ll still reap the benefits, regardless of how you feel.

The doors to the conference room opened and the team of Solo and Kuryakin sauntered in, commanding the immediate attention by the others already seated. Section II agents, especially this team were the elite among U.N.C.L.E. agents and sometimes their presence created a sense of awe, especially to someone like Waldo Pfeffer, the person conducting the meeting.

“Gentlemen, if you would please seat yourselves quickly as we have a lot of material to cover,” he announced from behind his half-inch thick eyeglasses.

The man was as thin as a rail and even more slightly built than Kuryakin. His black hair, slicked back with way too much brylcreem still managed not to keep a cowlick under control. Pfeffer was dressed in an an ill-fitting searsucker suit that made even the likes of the Russian cringe.

Napoleon walked over to Pfeffer offering him his hand.

“Hello Waldo, good to see you. How’ve you been?”

“Ummm, fine Mr. Solo.” Waldo was incredulous as he thought the great Napoleon Solo didn’t even know his name.

Illya noticed his partner’s slick move while others had not, as the American passed his hand over Pfeffer’s water glass; letting the capsule drop into it. It disappeared instantly.

The blond agent could only imagine what was going to happen next.

Once Napoleon and Illya were seated Waldo began droning away about cost overruns in each Section, pausing only to take a long sip of water.

A few moments later he began to sweat profusely and wiped his brow with his handkerchief before he resumed his lecture.

“Can someone please make sure the air conditioning is on in here? Is anyone else hot? It’s awfully warm isn't it?” Waldo complained in a nasally toned voice

Everyone shook their heads, looking at each other in confusion as the room was quite comfortable.

“Gentlemen, accounting insists you get control of your departments...and that includes your expense account reports for your agents. I hate to call out any one specific person but Mr. Solo, your constant submission for damaged expensive suits certainly does not set a good example…”

Waldo stopped in mid-sentence, taking another drink of water.”

“...does not set a good, example for your Section. As CEA I would expect more exemplary...” Pfeffer paused, suddenly letting out a rather loud and unexpected belch. “Pardon me.” He turned beet red in embarrassment. “As I said…” he burped even louder this time followed by a hiccup.

Illya glanced at his partner, not happy with what was going on, and as Waldo again reached for his water glass; the Russian stopped him.

“Perhaps you should just sit down for a moment Mr. Pfeffer?”

Waldo’s response was another loud belch. This continued on for several minutes.

“Gentlemen (burp) in light of the current circumstances (burrrrrp) I think it best I cancel... (burrrrrrrrrp) The last belch was followed by a barrage of hiccups.

Napoleon stood, nodding to the others. “In light of Mr. Pfeffer’s condition; I think it’s best the meeting be adjourned.”

The rest of the Section heads left without saying a word, except for Illya.

“Mr. Solo, I think it is a good idea you escort Mr. Pfeffer to Medical so they might see to his sudden attack of...whatever it is you wish to call it?”

“Umm, gee partner mine I have a previous engagement for lunch. Be a sport and help Waldo out will you?”

“Fine,”Illya huffed.”This is not over as you and I will have a discussion.”

Two hours later Napoleon strolled into the office he shared with Kuryakin, and there, unexpectedly, his partner was lying in wait for him.

He looked up from his science journal at the American, his face filled with disgust. “My friend, that was despicable what you did to Mr. Pfeffer.”

“Illya is was just a liquid form of Alka Seltzer that doesn’t fizz until it’s in the stomach, that’s all. It was concentrated enough to make him belch more than one would with a normal dosage...the hiccups however, were an unforeseen side benefit.  So how is old Waldo doing?”

“He is fine. Dr. Williams gave him something to settle his stomach but lucky for you he was at a loss as to what brought on Mr. Pfeffer’s unusual combination of symptoms. It was finally put off to a case of the jitters brought on by his having to...what did he call it; read the riot act to the head of Section II.”

Napoleon flopped down into his desk chair. “I knew it wasn’t anything that would cause him problems other than some loud burps...no harm, no foul then.”

Illya shook his head. “I have to admit it was a rather clever plan even for you.”

“Insulting me again?”

“No, it is just rare that you resort to anything in the realm of scientific to solve a problem, that is all.”

“I suppose so. I did get it from your lab with the assurance that it wouldn’t cause any problems.”

“Hmmm my lab really? I will have to have a talk with my people about not giving you anything in the future without my prior consent.”

“What you don’t trust me tovarisch? My heart is shattered.” Napoleon feigned a silent but over-acted scene worthy of Douglas Fairbanks Sr.

“Oh please, do not be so melodramatic. Now for keeping your secret safe, you will buy me dinner tonight at Changs.”

“Hey that’s blackmail,” Napoleon protested.

“Yes it is,”Illya snickered as he walked out the office door.

Comments

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Oh Solo, I don't blame you for not wanting to face the expense report guy. Funny, and the sort of prank we might expect from someone with a lab at his disposal.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Haaha, much to Illya's chagrin. Solo can be quite the mischief maker can't he? Thanks for the comment!

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Too Funny! And Illya's sense of propriety only goes as far as his stomach. "Insulting me again?” says Solo after Illya's “I have to admit it was a rather clever plan even for you.” Perfect!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Chuckling...I have no idea where this came from, especially given the prompt could be taken rather seriously. Glad it gave you a laugh. Thanks as always for commenting on a hot but dreary day here, cheering me up. :D