SNAPSHOTS " Crime and Punishment U.N.C.L.E. style"

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

“Hey that move wasn’t legal Kuryakin!” His opponent called out, wiping the blood from his mouth.

Illya was dancing around the man who stood at least a good six inches taller than him.

“All is fair in love and war,” Illya shot back. His statement followed by a roundhouse kick to his sparring partner’s solar plexus, doubled over the fellow with an ‘ooof’ as he fell to the floor.

The Russian offered him a hand up, but in return when his guard was down for that split second of gentlemanly behavior, Illya’s legs were swept out from under him, sending him flying backwards to the mat.

“So how do you like that, you pinko piece of crap Russkie? We Americans can fight dirty too.”

That was the last word out of the man’s mouth, as Illya managed to flip himself to his feet and dove for Beaufort just as he too let down his guard while taunting the Russian.

Fists flew, and it turned into an all out brawl in the gymnasium. By the time Security arrived Illya was on top of the man, raising his first for a final bloody blow that would signal his victory.

“That’s enough Mr. Kuryakin!” The Section V agent called out to him.

Illya froze in place, looking up and seeing his partner running through the gym door towards him.

“It’s okay boys, I’ll handle it from here,” Solo announced.

“But Mr. Solo...”

“No buts. As CEA Mr. Kuryakin and Mr. Beaufort are under my command...as I said, I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes sir, but we still have to report the incident to Mr. Waverly.”

“Give me about a half-hour before you do that fellas?”

“All right Mr. Solo, whatever you say.” The Security detail backed off, leaving the gym.

At that point Illya and George Beaufort stood bloodied and bruised in front of their boss, with the crowd that had gathered still gawking at them.

"Nothing to look at, "Napoleon ordered," Go on about your business!"

He lowered his voice, speaking directly to the guilty parties,.“Okay, who started it?”

Two sets of fingers pointed at each other simultaneously.

Napoleon ran his hand through his neatly coiffed hair, shaking his head and for once rolled his eyes.

“George, hit the showers and I’ll talk to you in my office in fifteen minutes.

The man stalked off to to the locker room without a word, presuming Solo was going to show favoritism when it came to the Russian.

“So tovarisch what happened?”

“Our sparring match became a bit more animated when he uttered several derogatory words to me regarding my ethnicity and political affiliation, and I simply lost my temper. I apologize Napoleon, I should not have let the man goad me.” Illya picked up a towel from a nearby bench, wiping some of the blood from his face and hands.

“Don’t tell me, he called you a pinko Commie Russkie, among other things?”

“All of the above. I know it was childish, but...”

“I suppose the old adage ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me’ doesn’t mean much to you, does it?”

“I have never heard that,” Illya cocked his head as he checked to make sure his nose wasn’t broken. “I will take that to heart in the future.”

‘Good idea chum.”

Alexander Waverly was annoyed by the incident, so much so that he decided to let Solo, as CEA, handle it and dispense the appropriate punishment as he knew he was not in a very forgiving mood at the moment. If he’s handled it, Kuryakin, though one of his best agents would have suffered dire consequences as this was not his first altercation in the gymnasium. Beaufort too had no excuse for his bigoted words and his punishment would have been severe as well.

Napoleon wasn’t happy about it, feeling he was now being tested, since his partner was involved.

Beaufort was written up for language and behavior unbecoming a Section II agent, and transferred to an outpost in the mid-west, manned by a contingent of agents mostly of Slavic descent. He was warned that any further inappropriate remarks could cost him his position with the Command.

Illya was another story, though defending his honor, brawling was not acceptable in headquarters.  Napoleon was at a loss as to what to do.

He asked himself what was the one thing Illya despised to do?

The next day Kuryakin was assigned desk duty in the records department, section Z.  Very few people had need of the few files under that alphabetical heading, so the next week there would be a boring one for his partner, to say the least.

.

The room where Kuryakin was sequestered was deathly silent except for the sound of an air vent whirring away; Illya could read of course, and nap to his hearts content.  There would be no one to bother him, so the punishment really wasn’t as bad as it looked, but on the otherhand, there was no one to talk to.

His meals would be brought to him as he worked his twelve hour shift, alone.

Waverly found it quite amusing...”Couldn’t have done better if I’d ordered it myself Mr. Solo. Though, in the foul mood that I was in, Mr. Kuryakin might not have fared so well,” the Old Man harumphed, as he lit his pipe, taking a long drag on it.

Napoleon breathed a sigh of relief, remembering the Old Man’s fondness for Illya as well as the Russian being his pet project of sorts, so his choice of disciplinary action had to be just right.

“And what might you have done sir?” Napoleon flipped through one of the folders in front of him for their weekly budget meeting.

“Sent him on inspection duty to our field offices located near the tropical equator, where it is extremely hot and humid of course.” Waverly knew how his Russian hated those extreme temperatures.

“Eww, cruel sir, very cruel,” Napoleon smiled.

“Indeed.”

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Hahahhaa, yes but he'll reorganize letter Z in records out of boredom but it won't even take him a day since not much under that letter. Lol, I was just pm-ing you, wondering why I bothered posting this today as Carabele's mini-bang was posted and is a mighty read...and a long one.

Thank for taking the time to comment on this!