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section7mfulink to Part One:http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/83709.html
___________________________________________________
Napoleon woke up with his head pounding, finding himself chained by the wrists and hanging from a wall. There were no windows in the room, and only a wooden table there in the middle of the floor, illuminated by a single incandescent light bulb.
Jones stepped out of the shadows, her dress and headband sparkling in the light, and out of habit, and he couldn’t help eyeing her up and down.
“You know we really have to stop meeting like this.” He told her, trying to act nonchalant, even though he was strung up like side of beef.
“So you like what you see handsome?” She lit a cigarette, taking a puff from it, then offered it to him. He took a long drag, just to be polite but blew the smoke in her face.
She coughed, giving Napoleon an icy stare that reminded him of his partner.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“Sorry, but this isn’t very nice either.” He rattled the chains with his hands just to be a little dramatic.
Solo watched as Julie ran her hands sensually up and down along her body, repeating her question.
“Do you like what you see Napoleon?”
He had to admit, she was quite curvaceous and her makeup was tastefully done." Now fair play, my turn. You didn’t answer my question back in the bar... did you have your surgery?”
She moved closer to him...he could smell her perfume or maybe it was aftershave...he wasn’t sure. Napoleon tried turning away but she pressed her lips against his, shoving her tongue into his unwilling mouth, but then damn... his libido kicked in and for just a second he returned her embrace. She reached down, slapping her right hand against his crotch, fondling his genitals. He couldn’t control himself, as his eyes saw a beautiful woman yet his mind was screaming to him that it was a man.
“Hmm, is that what I think it is? Are you are happy to see me?” She laughed. She pushed forward, rubbing her ample breasts against him, and letting him feel her excitement down below.
“Thank you for answering my question, but a simple no would have sufficed, “ Napoleon snickered once he gained his composure and relaxed. “As I said earlier, you’re not my type, and never will be. Sorry, I prefer a natural woman, not a manufactured one.”
That earned him a slap in the face. He turned his head, rotating his jaw to alleviate some of the sting. “Why are you doing this to me?” He whispered, changing his tactics and taking a gentler tone with her.
“Just like last time, I used that nasty little partner of yours for bait, now I’m using you. If I can bring down the likes of U.N.C.L.E.’s finest, then I’ll be allowed to join the ranks of Angelique La Chen, and her friend Serena. I plan to go only one way in my organization and that’s up. You and the Russian are going to help me do it.”
“You like Angelique or Serena ...sorry they’re way out of your league.” He laughed at her but realized maybe he shouldn't have but it did seem funny to him as Jones wasn't even a she.
Julie’s nostrils flared. “You’re not going to bait me, that’s the same thing your partner tried on me last time. No, you see Napoleon dear, I learn by my mistakes. Obviously you don’t, otherwise you would have never given me the opportunity to free myself the last time we met.”
She held out her wrists, showing me some nasty scars, there as a result of the handcuffs left on her as Illya and he abandoned her in the basement that day.
“You’ll pay for these,” she hissed. “So I guess the rumors I heard about you in Paris from Tamis Voudrais weren’t true?” *
“What rumors?” He lied, remembering that air-headed Thrush agent only too well.
“Tamis told me you liked women...and men.”
“Hmm, I don’t recall that,” He lied again. “You're half right though. I like women, very much.”
He cocked his eyebrows, contemplating what she had planned for Illya. She didn’t notice that he was fingering with his star sapphire pinky ring, rotating the stone to activate the miniature tracking device that Illya had installed in there not too long ago as a birthday gift.
“Just be careful when you come and get me partner,” Napoleon thought to myself.
.
Illya returned to the scene of the crime, noting the street to which the alleyway led from behind the club was a one way. He walked out to it, heading down the street, activating the tracker in his communicator. He was looking for a different signal, one not emitted from a pen, but from a special transmitter he’d put in Napoleon’s pinky ring.
He had yet to use it, and kept his fingers crossed Napoleon would be able to activate it and that he was within range of its transmission.
As he continued to walk, there was still nothing, until he heard a faint blip. Illya turned, heading down the next block, as the signal became stronger.
“Good man Napoleon,” he whispered.
.
“So how exactly do you plan to lure my partner into your trap? I’m just curious,” Solo asked. He was hoping she’d take the bait this time, mentally crossing his fingers that she, like so many Thrush, liked to brag.
“Oh when the time comes you’re going to contact your friend.” She held out his communicator pen for him to see. “You’ll tell him that if he doesn’t show up within 24 hours with exactly $50,000, then I will kill you.”
“You have to be kidding? U.N.C.L.E. doesn’t pay ransom for their agents. It’s a fact of life, we’re expendable.” He laughed at her again.
“I know that!” She sneered at him. “And I also know your partner won’t let you die. He’ll get the money somehow, won’t he?”
“Wait, I thought this was all about raising your status with T.H.R.U.S.H. Central and now it’s money?”
“Oh you are being dense aren’t you?” She ran a neatly manicured nail along my face. “ Oh damn!” She looked at her hand. “ I’ve chipped my nail polish.”
He couldn’t believe how easily distracted this one was and prompted her to return to her previous train of thought hoping to hear more of her plan.
“And you were saying I was being dense?”
“Oh yes, It’s not about the money at all, that’s just a way of controlling your partner to show up when I want him to. He’ll think he’s arriving to pay your ransom and you’ll be released to him, but I’ll be waiting to trap him with this.” She held out a vial of red liquid. “A simple sleep gas to knock him out. Of course he’ll be on guard, and I’ll show him I have no weapon...so he’ll feel a little safer. And when I offer you to him, that’s when I’ll get him with the gas.”
That was probably one of the stupidest plans he had ever heard, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Having activated the tracker in his ring, Napoleon prayed it would be Illya giving her a surprise instead and when she least expected it.
She lifted something out of the shadows, dumping the contents on the table. It was a large purse , and out fell a pistol, a blackjack, a knife, a syringe as well as assorted vials of clear liquid, and makeup...lots of it. Lipstick, rouges powders, the works. She was packing all sorts of goodies in there.
“Damn,” she cursed again, I’m out of nail polish remover!” She pouted over it like it was the end of the world. “Oh well, better go get some....you stay put darling boy.” She crinkled her nose playfully as she headed towards the door.
“Sure I’ll just hang around,” He shot back at her... like he could really go anywhere at the moment?
Once the coast was clear Napoleon tried playing with the cuffs, attempting to squeeze his hands through like he'd seen Illya do, but after a few minutes, he resigned myself that it wasn’t going to work.
“Where are you tovarisch?”
There was the creak as a door opened and he guessed Jones was returning. “That was fast,” he mumbled.
But it was a familiar blond head that appeared out of the darkness.
“Took you long enough.” The American jibed as his partner went right to work with a lock pic to free him of his chains.
“As always, the ingrate.”
“Trust me, I’m very grateful for you being the cavalry...again. Please hurry, so we can get out of here before she comes back.”
“She is back!” Julie snarled, aiming her pistol at them. “Get your hands up Kuryakin. Now how the hell did you find us so fast?”
Illya spoke with his back to her, being his usual snarky self. “Oh just a bit of gypsy magic I suppose.” Then he winked at his partner, showing that crooked smile of his, as he was obviously amused at his remark to her.
All Napoleon could do was watch as Illya turned, facing her as he slowly raised her hands, but in an instant he dove at her, grabbing the gun and wrestling her for it. Jones shrieked, as he pulled it from her and she reached out, raking her fingernails across his face.
Solo was sure that really hurt, but it didn’t seem to slow Illya down one bit. He ducked a punch from her, but hesitated retaliating.
Seeing that momentary pause, Jones pulled back her fist, landing a blow to his chin, and hitting harder than Illya probably expected. She was still Julius Jones, and only resembled a woman.
The fact that Jones did look female no doubt impacted Illyas decision to hit her, since he never liked hitting women. Napoleon could see the wheels turning in that blond head of his, as he quickly made up his mind and spun into a roundhouse kick, hitting Jones in the midsection and sending him flying against the wall, knocking him out.
The Russian touched his cheek, distracted as his hand came away with blood on it. He wasn't happy.
“Hey your face’ll still be pretty, now come on chum and get me out of these?” Napoleon rattled the chains for effect.
He grabbed his lock pic from the floor, returning to the task of freeing his friend, and when finished, they both turned their attention to where Jones lay to cuff her...but she was gone. Neither of them heard her escape in the darkness.
“Do you have a feeling we have not seen the last of Julius Jones.” Illya asked as they left the building.
“Julius...Julia, I think we haven’t heard the last from either of them.”
Napoleon handed him a handkerchief to clean the blood from his cheek. Illya took it, but reached over, suddenly wiping Solos mouth with it instead.
“A bit of red lipstick, “ he smiled mischievously. “We would not want any more rumors to get started, would we?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be worth trying to explain, would it? It’ll be our little secret then, right partner mine.”
“Da...Louie Louie.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Napoleon asked, not understanding what his enigmatic Russian friend was getting at, as usual.
“You will figure it out.” Illya grinned.
Napoleon paused for a moment, recalling the lyrics to the song, with a few lines standing out, Fine little girl waits for me...Think of girl, constantly, Take her in my arms again...
When he got Illya's drift; Napoleon defended his honor. “Noooo way. Not my cup of tea.”
“Lipstick...”
He wondered how on God's green earth, if at all, Illya suspected he kissed Jones back...even if it was just for a second? Or did he?
"Not a chance in hell,” The senior agent again insisted.
Illya quoted one of his partners favorite Shakespearean lines to him. “Methinks thou dost protest too much.” He snickered...he just had to do that and winked at his partner again.
“Smart ass Russian.” He sniped back at him. Yet he knew Illya was only kidding, since women were sort of sacred to him, and he definitely knew they were to Napoleon Solo as well.
.
* ref "That's Life" http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7477152/1/Thats_Life
___________________________________________________
Napoleon woke up with his head pounding, finding himself chained by the wrists and hanging from a wall. There were no windows in the room, and only a wooden table there in the middle of the floor, illuminated by a single incandescent light bulb.
Jones stepped out of the shadows, her dress and headband sparkling in the light, and out of habit, and he couldn’t help eyeing her up and down.
“You know we really have to stop meeting like this.” He told her, trying to act nonchalant, even though he was strung up like side of beef.
“So you like what you see handsome?” She lit a cigarette, taking a puff from it, then offered it to him. He took a long drag, just to be polite but blew the smoke in her face.
She coughed, giving Napoleon an icy stare that reminded him of his partner.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“Sorry, but this isn’t very nice either.” He rattled the chains with his hands just to be a little dramatic.
Solo watched as Julie ran her hands sensually up and down along her body, repeating her question.
“Do you like what you see Napoleon?”
He had to admit, she was quite curvaceous and her makeup was tastefully done." Now fair play, my turn. You didn’t answer my question back in the bar... did you have your surgery?”
She moved closer to him...he could smell her perfume or maybe it was aftershave...he wasn’t sure. Napoleon tried turning away but she pressed her lips against his, shoving her tongue into his unwilling mouth, but then damn... his libido kicked in and for just a second he returned her embrace. She reached down, slapping her right hand against his crotch, fondling his genitals. He couldn’t control himself, as his eyes saw a beautiful woman yet his mind was screaming to him that it was a man.
“Hmm, is that what I think it is? Are you are happy to see me?” She laughed. She pushed forward, rubbing her ample breasts against him, and letting him feel her excitement down below.
“Thank you for answering my question, but a simple no would have sufficed, “ Napoleon snickered once he gained his composure and relaxed. “As I said earlier, you’re not my type, and never will be. Sorry, I prefer a natural woman, not a manufactured one.”
That earned him a slap in the face. He turned his head, rotating his jaw to alleviate some of the sting. “Why are you doing this to me?” He whispered, changing his tactics and taking a gentler tone with her.
“Just like last time, I used that nasty little partner of yours for bait, now I’m using you. If I can bring down the likes of U.N.C.L.E.’s finest, then I’ll be allowed to join the ranks of Angelique La Chen, and her friend Serena. I plan to go only one way in my organization and that’s up. You and the Russian are going to help me do it.”
“You like Angelique or Serena ...sorry they’re way out of your league.” He laughed at her but realized maybe he shouldn't have but it did seem funny to him as Jones wasn't even a she.
Julie’s nostrils flared. “You’re not going to bait me, that’s the same thing your partner tried on me last time. No, you see Napoleon dear, I learn by my mistakes. Obviously you don’t, otherwise you would have never given me the opportunity to free myself the last time we met.”
She held out her wrists, showing me some nasty scars, there as a result of the handcuffs left on her as Illya and he abandoned her in the basement that day.
“You’ll pay for these,” she hissed. “So I guess the rumors I heard about you in Paris from Tamis Voudrais weren’t true?” *
“What rumors?” He lied, remembering that air-headed Thrush agent only too well.
“Tamis told me you liked women...and men.”
“Hmm, I don’t recall that,” He lied again. “You're half right though. I like women, very much.”
He cocked his eyebrows, contemplating what she had planned for Illya. She didn’t notice that he was fingering with his star sapphire pinky ring, rotating the stone to activate the miniature tracking device that Illya had installed in there not too long ago as a birthday gift.
“Just be careful when you come and get me partner,” Napoleon thought to myself.
.
Illya returned to the scene of the crime, noting the street to which the alleyway led from behind the club was a one way. He walked out to it, heading down the street, activating the tracker in his communicator. He was looking for a different signal, one not emitted from a pen, but from a special transmitter he’d put in Napoleon’s pinky ring.
He had yet to use it, and kept his fingers crossed Napoleon would be able to activate it and that he was within range of its transmission.
As he continued to walk, there was still nothing, until he heard a faint blip. Illya turned, heading down the next block, as the signal became stronger.
“Good man Napoleon,” he whispered.
.
“So how exactly do you plan to lure my partner into your trap? I’m just curious,” Solo asked. He was hoping she’d take the bait this time, mentally crossing his fingers that she, like so many Thrush, liked to brag.
“Oh when the time comes you’re going to contact your friend.” She held out his communicator pen for him to see. “You’ll tell him that if he doesn’t show up within 24 hours with exactly $50,000, then I will kill you.”
“You have to be kidding? U.N.C.L.E. doesn’t pay ransom for their agents. It’s a fact of life, we’re expendable.” He laughed at her again.
“I know that!” She sneered at him. “And I also know your partner won’t let you die. He’ll get the money somehow, won’t he?”
“Wait, I thought this was all about raising your status with T.H.R.U.S.H. Central and now it’s money?”
“Oh you are being dense aren’t you?” She ran a neatly manicured nail along my face. “ Oh damn!” She looked at her hand. “ I’ve chipped my nail polish.”
He couldn’t believe how easily distracted this one was and prompted her to return to her previous train of thought hoping to hear more of her plan.
“And you were saying I was being dense?”
“Oh yes, It’s not about the money at all, that’s just a way of controlling your partner to show up when I want him to. He’ll think he’s arriving to pay your ransom and you’ll be released to him, but I’ll be waiting to trap him with this.” She held out a vial of red liquid. “A simple sleep gas to knock him out. Of course he’ll be on guard, and I’ll show him I have no weapon...so he’ll feel a little safer. And when I offer you to him, that’s when I’ll get him with the gas.”
That was probably one of the stupidest plans he had ever heard, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Having activated the tracker in his ring, Napoleon prayed it would be Illya giving her a surprise instead and when she least expected it.
She lifted something out of the shadows, dumping the contents on the table. It was a large purse , and out fell a pistol, a blackjack, a knife, a syringe as well as assorted vials of clear liquid, and makeup...lots of it. Lipstick, rouges powders, the works. She was packing all sorts of goodies in there.
“Damn,” she cursed again, I’m out of nail polish remover!” She pouted over it like it was the end of the world. “Oh well, better go get some....you stay put darling boy.” She crinkled her nose playfully as she headed towards the door.
“Sure I’ll just hang around,” He shot back at her... like he could really go anywhere at the moment?
Once the coast was clear Napoleon tried playing with the cuffs, attempting to squeeze his hands through like he'd seen Illya do, but after a few minutes, he resigned myself that it wasn’t going to work.
“Where are you tovarisch?”
There was the creak as a door opened and he guessed Jones was returning. “That was fast,” he mumbled.
But it was a familiar blond head that appeared out of the darkness.
“Took you long enough.” The American jibed as his partner went right to work with a lock pic to free him of his chains.
“As always, the ingrate.”
“Trust me, I’m very grateful for you being the cavalry...again. Please hurry, so we can get out of here before she comes back.”
“She is back!” Julie snarled, aiming her pistol at them. “Get your hands up Kuryakin. Now how the hell did you find us so fast?”
Illya spoke with his back to her, being his usual snarky self. “Oh just a bit of gypsy magic I suppose.” Then he winked at his partner, showing that crooked smile of his, as he was obviously amused at his remark to her.
All Napoleon could do was watch as Illya turned, facing her as he slowly raised her hands, but in an instant he dove at her, grabbing the gun and wrestling her for it. Jones shrieked, as he pulled it from her and she reached out, raking her fingernails across his face.
Solo was sure that really hurt, but it didn’t seem to slow Illya down one bit. He ducked a punch from her, but hesitated retaliating.
Seeing that momentary pause, Jones pulled back her fist, landing a blow to his chin, and hitting harder than Illya probably expected. She was still Julius Jones, and only resembled a woman.
The fact that Jones did look female no doubt impacted Illyas decision to hit her, since he never liked hitting women. Napoleon could see the wheels turning in that blond head of his, as he quickly made up his mind and spun into a roundhouse kick, hitting Jones in the midsection and sending him flying against the wall, knocking him out.
The Russian touched his cheek, distracted as his hand came away with blood on it. He wasn't happy.
“Hey your face’ll still be pretty, now come on chum and get me out of these?” Napoleon rattled the chains for effect.
He grabbed his lock pic from the floor, returning to the task of freeing his friend, and when finished, they both turned their attention to where Jones lay to cuff her...but she was gone. Neither of them heard her escape in the darkness.
“Do you have a feeling we have not seen the last of Julius Jones.” Illya asked as they left the building.
“Julius...Julia, I think we haven’t heard the last from either of them.”
Napoleon handed him a handkerchief to clean the blood from his cheek. Illya took it, but reached over, suddenly wiping Solos mouth with it instead.
“A bit of red lipstick, “ he smiled mischievously. “We would not want any more rumors to get started, would we?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be worth trying to explain, would it? It’ll be our little secret then, right partner mine.”
“Da...Louie Louie.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Napoleon asked, not understanding what his enigmatic Russian friend was getting at, as usual.
“You will figure it out.” Illya grinned.
Napoleon paused for a moment, recalling the lyrics to the song, with a few lines standing out, Fine little girl waits for me...Think of girl, constantly, Take her in my arms again...
When he got Illya's drift; Napoleon defended his honor. “Noooo way. Not my cup of tea.”
“Lipstick...”
He wondered how on God's green earth, if at all, Illya suspected he kissed Jones back...even if it was just for a second? Or did he?
"Not a chance in hell,” The senior agent again insisted.
Illya quoted one of his partners favorite Shakespearean lines to him. “Methinks thou dost protest too much.” He snickered...he just had to do that and winked at his partner again.
“Smart ass Russian.” He sniped back at him. Yet he knew Illya was only kidding, since women were sort of sacred to him, and he definitely knew they were to Napoleon Solo as well.
.
* ref "That's Life" http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7477152/1/Thats_Life
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Date: 2012-07-23 04:24 pm (UTC)Thanks for commenting!
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Date: 2012-07-23 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-23 06:22 pm (UTC)