SNAPSHOTS~ "Stepping up to the plate"

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

There was an underlying tension as the Section II agents gathered in their conference room for their weekly briefing.  Normally it was conducted by the CEA, but Napoleon Solo was lying in a bed up in Medical, in serious but guarded condition with a bullet having been removed from all to close to his spine.

Illya Kuryakin, though reluctant to leave his partner’s side, was forced to do so as he was, after all, the second in command and it was his duty to take over for Napoleon as temporary Chief Enforcement Agent.

As soon as he entered the conference room, there was instant silence, the conversations coming to an obvious stop.

“Do not let me disturb you gentleman, please speak freely.” He looked at his watch, noting he was on time and the fact that several agents who were in-house, were still not present.

“How’s Napoleon doing?” Mark Slate asked, breaking the ice.

“He is still unconscious. The surgery was successful but  Medical is  unsure as to whether he will be able to walk again... that remains to be seen.,” Kuryakin spoke with a coldness in his voice, though deep down inside he was feeling quite emotional about the thought of his partner being permanently disabled. However, no one would have ever guessed that from his demeanor.

The missing agents arrived ten minutes late, and Illya chastised them, reminding them to be on time in the future.  He sensed ill-ease in the room was not due to the lack of Napoleon’s presence, and Kuryakin suspected there was still an underlying resentment towards him on the part of some.  Even though he’d been with U.N.C.L.E. over a year, he was still looked upon as suspect, a Commie and not to be trusted.

Illya had heard the whisperings behind his back, even though they thought he didn’t hear. He simply chose to ignore them and concentrate on his job.

He let those things ride, and avoided addressing them. Napoleon wasn’t so forgiving and went after anyone who’d treated the Russian unfairly but at the moment Illya was on his own to deal with such things or not, with the exception of Slate, there were few friendly eyes in the room.

There had been a few incidents where Illya, having to physically defend himself beyond the nortmal taunts, had gotten into a brawl with the offending agents, but again, Solo came to his rescue.  So much so that Waverly’s ire was assuaged and no punishment was doled out.

Illya reminded Napoleon he didn’t need to do such things. He was confident he could handle things himself, if need be, but now with the chance Solo could be gone, Kuryakin suddenly missed the American having his back.

If Napoleon were indeed rendered an invalid, Illya Kuryakin questioned himself and his ability to permanently step into the position of CEA, as it was a given he would be expected to do so.  Knowing some of the  feelings towards him within the Command; he wasn’t sure if he wanted make that move.

Illya knew he had a brusk way about him, and could be rather ruthless at times, and those things surely did not put him high up on the popularity list either.

Again he reminded himself he was there to do a job and nothing more...

Thinking about replacing his partner made him feel as though he were betraying Napoleon, but for the sake of functioning properly he decided for the moment, out of sight out of mind.

Illya breathed a sigh of relief when the meeting concluded, allowing him to head up directly up to Medical.  At the exact moment he walked into Solo’s room... Napoleon awoke, and seemed very much himself.

“Hey tovarisch, how did the meeting go?” Solo groggily asked, knowing full well what day of the week it was.

“Fine, everything is in order, but I will be happy when you return to take over.”

Napoleon knew when his friend was lying. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I am not one for such meetings that is all, and I suppose I am not quite ready to step into your shoes.”

“And you shouldn’t be. I’m not ready to give up the ghost.” Solo crinkled his nose.

Dr. Mendez came in at that moment. “Ah, Napoleon you’re awake. Let’s do some tests.”

He poked, prodded and tickled Solo’s legs and feet and after some time, he smiled as he saw acceptable responses.  Wiggling toes were a welcome sight.

“Good, I think you’ll be fine. A little rehab and and recuperation time will be in order.”

Solo looked to his partner, seeing him smiling and appearing quite pleased.

“You’re happier than me chum?”

“Perhaps I am. I was simply not looking forward to breaking in a new partner.”

“Gee, thanks, I think?” Solo contorted his face.

“You are welcome, Napoleon,” Illya let go a small smile, looking for some reason like the cat that ate the mouse...

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Hahaha, ah remember in my stories he's 'Russian.' Given the Cold War there was bound to be people around who not only feared that he was Soviet, but his position of authority within the Command.

Thanks for reading and commenting!!