"Always an angle"~ for the Short Affair Challenge # 2

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: The Short Affair # 2

Prompt: #1 nasty Color: Silver

Title:  Always an angle

Author: mrua7

Word Count: Approx 900

.

The cloudless morning sky was a beautiful shade of blue as Napoleon Solo looked up, spotting a glint of metallic silver reflected in the sunlight; a jetliner winging its way from Kennedy airport.

He checked his wristwatch and by the time he guessed it was the plane in which his partner was now travelling.  Though they were often sent on separate missions, Solo always had a pang of something in his gut when he wasn’t there to watch his partners back. What it was, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was definitely there, some more times than others.

The optimist in him said Illya would be fine; the mother hen in him reminded him the Russian had an uncanny way of getting himself in trouble.

There was nothing Napoleon could do this time as he limped to a park bench, finding himself short of breath as he sat down. This was his first real foray out into the real world after breaking his leg; he could walk with the aid of a cane, but it was slow going.

“Dammit,” he cursed to himself. Why did he have an uneasy feeling Illya was going to get caught up in some nasty business.

Pulling his communicator; he hid behind a copy of the New York Times as he opened a channel to a fellow Section II agent.

“Slate here, what can I do for you Napoleon?”

“Mark, are you still going to London on your vacation?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I’m at Kennedy now. I decided to take an early flight, even though I’ll arrive over there in the wee hours.  Doesn’t matter, it’ll give me time to crash and get some sleep before I surprise my mum.”

“I have a special favor to ask of you. Illya is on his way to London as we speak. Could you sort of keep an eye on him; I have a bad feeling about him getting in trouble.  Given he’ll be dealing with Harry Beldon makes me a bit nervous.  I think the man is holding a grudge against Illya for abandoning him as his protegé.”

“So I’ve heard mate. I’ll be glad to check up on him, though I don’t think he’ll take kindly to a baby sitter.”

“Well do what you can to keep an eye on him, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Napoleon it’s not like you to worry like this, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I can put a finger on Mark, just a gut feeling.”

“Understood guv. I’ve been through that many’s a time with my April.  So consider it done.”

“Thanks Mark. Solo out.”

Nine days later Illya returned, finding his partner seated in their office and sorting through his pile of paperwork.

“Oh so you have managed to keep yourself busy I see,” Illya commented.

“Yes and hello to you too tovarisch. How did it go in London?”

“Hmmm, I do not know...perhaps you might want to ask Mark Slate when he returns from his holiday in another five days?”

Napoleon tried acting nonchalant, feigning ignorance.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. Did you have some sort of problem across the pond?”

Illya sat down at his desk after depositing his black leather briefcase on top of it. “I had no problems at all, except for Mark Slate tailing me like a rank amateur, You would not have had something to do with that perhaps?”

“Moi? Why Illya Kuryakin I’m crushed you would think such a thing,”Napoleon smiled with all the innocence of a guilty man.

“I thought as much. Though it was pointless my friend, the thought was appreciated. I was never in any situation that would put me in danger, unless you count dealing with Harry Beldon; that is always an adventure in uncertainty. We do however have to have a talk with Slate regarding his stalking techniques.”

“Did you ever stop to think he wanted you to know he was there, covering your back?”

“No it had not occurred me. I suppose that talk is therefore unnecessary.” Illya opened up his case, tossing a package to his partner.

“What’s this?”

“A gift of sorts, a thank you for worrying about me I suppose.”

“Illya, this wasn’t…” Napoleon’s eyes went wide as he opened his gift, finding a fine silk tie in the package. “Wow, chum this is really nice.”

“It had better be. It is from Harrods.”

Napoleon slipped off his own tie, switching it out for his new one, a silver, red and black diagonal stripe.

“You know as many times as we’ve been to London I’ve never gotten to Harrods. Thank you Illya.”  He was impressed the Russian had purchased such a costly gift, and for once Napoleon refrained from any wisecrack as to his partner’s...frugality.

“I presumed you would appreciate it as it is practical after all. Given the stores motto, Omnia Omnibus Ubique—All Things for All People, Everywhere; there I knew I would find something to suit your taste."

Napoleon stood, assuming a regal pose. “How does it look?”

“Très élégant mon ami. So does this mean you will not be unloading your paperwork on me now that I am back?”

Solo cocked his head as he chuckled. “I knew it, always an angle with you. You smart Russian.”

“Thank you. I will take that as a compliment,” Illya grinned. "Still, I do appreciate your concern."

"Hey, no matter what I'll somehow have your back."

"And I yours, you...smart American."

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Please don't reply if you don't want to...how is your cousin doing?

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

No worries. They may extubate him today, and remove something called a groin pump, which I would presume that means he's improving. thanks for asking.