Expenses - Picfic Tuesday - Nov 11th
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section7mfuNapoleon and Illya had been summoned to Mr Waverly’s office. This in itself was not an unusual event. However, they weren’t normally confronted by Stefan Reid, from accounting. Waverly invited them to sit down.
“Mr Reid is a little concerned about your last assignment, gentlemen.”
Napoleon eyed the file in front of the accountant. Reid opened it, a little too ominously to Solo’s way of thinking.
“I shall start with Mr Kuryakin,” Reid began. “I have to say I am a little shocked by this claim. When you first arrived here, you barely claimed for anything. I think this shows you have been corrupted by your partner.”
Illya had the decency to look slightly ashamed, but didn’t say anything; resolutely avoiding eye contact with Mr Waverly.
“Firstly, you want twenty-five dollars for food,” Reid began. “I understand you have a reputation for eating copious amounts, but I doubt even you could eat that much on thirty-six hour assignment.”
Glaring at Napoleon, Illya wordlessly prompted him to explain why he’d been landed with a twenty-five dollar bill. The silent battle lasted three seconds until Solo relented.
“That was my fault,” he admitted. “I erm. . . got distracted and accidently knocked Illya into a snack cart. I didn’t have any cash on me to recompense the vendor.”
Waverly harrumphed with irritation, knowing exactly what his CEA would have been distracted by.
“I’m sorry Mr Kuryakin, but I am not authorising this one,” Reid told the unhappy Russian. “I suggest you ask Mr Solo to pay you back. Had he made the claim, it would be a different matter.”
That’ll be sometime just after Hell freezes over, thought Illya.
“Onto the next items,” Mr Reid push on. “Why are you claiming for a suit, a shirt, a tie, a tie clip, underpants, socks, shoes and a watch, again?”
“Mine were taken from me,” Illya replied, matter-of-factly. “I was captured and stripped, again.”
“Mr Kuryakin, I understand the difficulties you agents face, but this is the third time this year.”
“Next time I’m captured,” Illya snarled, leaning towards Reid. “I’ll make sure to ask them not to take my clothes as the cost is frowned upon by our accountant.”
The Old Man coughed. It was a clear signal to Illya not to launch himself into a rant. The Russian backed down.
Reid cleared his throat nervously. He’d had many run-ins with U.N.C.L.E.’s top team, but this was the first time he’d been on the receiving end of the famous Ice Prince stare.
“I will allow this one,” he conceded. “This next one, however, confuses me. Four dollars for entrance into the World’s Fair? I thought the entrance fee was only two dollars.”
“The man were tailing went into the fair, so we had to follow,” Illya explained.
“That doesn’t explain why you paid double to get in,” Waverly interjected.
“I had to pay for Napoleon too.”
Solo looked up at the ceiling, as though searching for divine intervention. He was brought back to the room by his boss.
“How do you manage on assignments when your partner is not with you, Mr Solo?” The Old Man asked his senior agent.
Napoleon shrugged. Reid continued with his assessment.
“I will authorise it this time Mr Kuryakin, but would suggest you stop taking money on assignments and allowing Mr Solo to take some of the burden for once. Now, please explain to me what a Goofy costume is.”
“A Disney cartoon character,” Illya enlightened him. “I had to ‘borrow’ it when my clothes were taken, but it got damaged. I promised it would be paid for.”
The accountant had to accept the claim for the costume as it was obvious Mr Kuryakin couldn’t have walked through the fair naked. He turned the page in his file before looking directly into Napoleon’s eyes.
“How did you damage your suit?”
“Climbing up a drainpipe onto a roof.”
“I am somewhat concerned that this is your eleventh claim to replace a suit this year,” he told him. “That would be bad enough even if they weren’t hand tailored Italian suits. Mr Solo, I must insist that you either wear less expensive clothes, or take some of the financial loss upon yourself.”
Napoleon was aghast. How could he possibly be expected to wear cheap suits? He had a reputation to uphold. Glancing over at his partner, he could see Illya was barely suppressing a smile.
“I have a suggestion Mr Reid,” Waverly said, as he lit his pipe. “You could possibly limit Mr Solo to six suit claims per year. I do understand that, in your case Mr Solo, the clothes maketh the man. However, you are costing us a small fortune.”
“I understand Sir,” Napoleon replied, somewhat sulkily. From the corner of his eye, he could see Illya shaking with the effort not to laugh.
“Is that everything Mr Reid?”
“Yes, Mr Waverly.”
“Thank you,” Waverly said to him, before dismissing him. Once the man had gone, he turned back to his agents.
“Gentlemen, I understand that you incur damage and loss of your property in this job, and I acknowledge you sometimes have to reimburse people for damage you may cause, but please be more careful with your claims. Mr Reid is a very tedious man, and I really could do without him taking up my time. All he sees are numbers and decimal points. He fails to realise that the man you went after in the World’s Fair, would have cause the deaths of countless innocents. I think if he looked at the big picture, he would see that replacing a few suits is well worth it. Do not take that as leave to be less careful with your property or that of others. Now, please don’t let me keep you.”
Heading back to the office, Illya asked Napoleon when he was going to pay him back.
“Can you wait until next week, Tovarisch,” Solo answered. “I’m taking Wonderful Wendy for dinner tonight.”
Kuryakin rolled his eyes, but said nothing.
Thanks to mrua7 for the photos she illustrated her story with. They allowed me to have the ‘Goofy’ idea.
“Mr Reid is a little concerned about your last assignment, gentlemen.”
Napoleon eyed the file in front of the accountant. Reid opened it, a little too ominously to Solo’s way of thinking.
“I shall start with Mr Kuryakin,” Reid began. “I have to say I am a little shocked by this claim. When you first arrived here, you barely claimed for anything. I think this shows you have been corrupted by your partner.”
Illya had the decency to look slightly ashamed, but didn’t say anything; resolutely avoiding eye contact with Mr Waverly.
“Firstly, you want twenty-five dollars for food,” Reid began. “I understand you have a reputation for eating copious amounts, but I doubt even you could eat that much on thirty-six hour assignment.”
Glaring at Napoleon, Illya wordlessly prompted him to explain why he’d been landed with a twenty-five dollar bill. The silent battle lasted three seconds until Solo relented.
“That was my fault,” he admitted. “I erm. . . got distracted and accidently knocked Illya into a snack cart. I didn’t have any cash on me to recompense the vendor.”
Waverly harrumphed with irritation, knowing exactly what his CEA would have been distracted by.
“I’m sorry Mr Kuryakin, but I am not authorising this one,” Reid told the unhappy Russian. “I suggest you ask Mr Solo to pay you back. Had he made the claim, it would be a different matter.”
That’ll be sometime just after Hell freezes over, thought Illya.
“Onto the next items,” Mr Reid push on. “Why are you claiming for a suit, a shirt, a tie, a tie clip, underpants, socks, shoes and a watch, again?”
“Mine were taken from me,” Illya replied, matter-of-factly. “I was captured and stripped, again.”
“Mr Kuryakin, I understand the difficulties you agents face, but this is the third time this year.”
“Next time I’m captured,” Illya snarled, leaning towards Reid. “I’ll make sure to ask them not to take my clothes as the cost is frowned upon by our accountant.”
The Old Man coughed. It was a clear signal to Illya not to launch himself into a rant. The Russian backed down.
Reid cleared his throat nervously. He’d had many run-ins with U.N.C.L.E.’s top team, but this was the first time he’d been on the receiving end of the famous Ice Prince stare.
“I will allow this one,” he conceded. “This next one, however, confuses me. Four dollars for entrance into the World’s Fair? I thought the entrance fee was only two dollars.”
“The man were tailing went into the fair, so we had to follow,” Illya explained.
“That doesn’t explain why you paid double to get in,” Waverly interjected.
“I had to pay for Napoleon too.”
Solo looked up at the ceiling, as though searching for divine intervention. He was brought back to the room by his boss.
“How do you manage on assignments when your partner is not with you, Mr Solo?” The Old Man asked his senior agent.
Napoleon shrugged. Reid continued with his assessment.
“I will authorise it this time Mr Kuryakin, but would suggest you stop taking money on assignments and allowing Mr Solo to take some of the burden for once. Now, please explain to me what a Goofy costume is.”
“A Disney cartoon character,” Illya enlightened him. “I had to ‘borrow’ it when my clothes were taken, but it got damaged. I promised it would be paid for.”
The accountant had to accept the claim for the costume as it was obvious Mr Kuryakin couldn’t have walked through the fair naked. He turned the page in his file before looking directly into Napoleon’s eyes.
“How did you damage your suit?”
“Climbing up a drainpipe onto a roof.”
“I am somewhat concerned that this is your eleventh claim to replace a suit this year,” he told him. “That would be bad enough even if they weren’t hand tailored Italian suits. Mr Solo, I must insist that you either wear less expensive clothes, or take some of the financial loss upon yourself.”
Napoleon was aghast. How could he possibly be expected to wear cheap suits? He had a reputation to uphold. Glancing over at his partner, he could see Illya was barely suppressing a smile.
“I have a suggestion Mr Reid,” Waverly said, as he lit his pipe. “You could possibly limit Mr Solo to six suit claims per year. I do understand that, in your case Mr Solo, the clothes maketh the man. However, you are costing us a small fortune.”
“I understand Sir,” Napoleon replied, somewhat sulkily. From the corner of his eye, he could see Illya shaking with the effort not to laugh.
“Is that everything Mr Reid?”
“Yes, Mr Waverly.”
“Thank you,” Waverly said to him, before dismissing him. Once the man had gone, he turned back to his agents.
“Gentlemen, I understand that you incur damage and loss of your property in this job, and I acknowledge you sometimes have to reimburse people for damage you may cause, but please be more careful with your claims. Mr Reid is a very tedious man, and I really could do without him taking up my time. All he sees are numbers and decimal points. He fails to realise that the man you went after in the World’s Fair, would have cause the deaths of countless innocents. I think if he looked at the big picture, he would see that replacing a few suits is well worth it. Do not take that as leave to be less careful with your property or that of others. Now, please don’t let me keep you.”
Heading back to the office, Illya asked Napoleon when he was going to pay him back.
“Can you wait until next week, Tovarisch,” Solo answered. “I’m taking Wonderful Wendy for dinner tonight.”
Kuryakin rolled his eyes, but said nothing.
Thanks to mrua7 for the photos she illustrated her story with. They allowed me to have the ‘Goofy’ idea.
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no subject
Date: 2014-11-11 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-11 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-11 11:01 pm (UTC)Excellent use of the prompt!
no subject
Date: 2014-11-11 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-11 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-11 11:08 pm (UTC)Those blasted accountants. Maybe our guys should drag him along on their next assignment. Poor Illya...naked again (what an image).
Nice story!
no subject
Date: 2014-11-11 11:18 pm (UTC)There's an idea for a story, sending the accountants on assignment.
no subject
Date: 2014-11-11 11:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-12 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-12 08:47 am (UTC)Mr Waverly doesn't like waste, but he understands the problems of the job.
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Date: 2014-11-12 10:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-12 10:20 pm (UTC)