"Mister Waverly's new motto" ~ for the What's My Line? Challenge

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: What’s My Line?

The prompt: “You’re late”

Title: “Mr. Waverly’s new motto”

Author: mrua7

Word count: Approx. 1200

“You’re late…” a phrase Napoleon Solo had heard on many’s the occasion as he wasn’t always the most prompt person when it came to showing up on time.

He’d heard it only this morning when he walked into his office he shared with his partner, as their secretary informed him Illya was already headed, as his second, to Mr. Waverly’s conference room for the Monday morning meeting, in anticipation of his partner's tardiness.

As he hustled to get there, Napoleon again heard the phrase being uttered by Lisa Rogers as he passed her desk.

“You’re late, and he’s not happy.”

Once the pneumatic doors opened and he stepped inside, Alexander Waverly raised a single bushy eyebrow, giving him the ‘look’.  “Good of you to grace us with your presence Mr. Solo. May I again remind you that you are again late? Please endeavour to be on time for these meetings as they take long enough as it is.”

Napoleon showed no sign of embarrassment, though he did apologize for the hundredth time for committing said offence.

He seated himself next to Illya at the conference table, and his partner leaned over, whispering to him.

“One of these days the word 'late’ ia going to get you into a situation out of which you may not be able to extricate yourself. Heaven knows your tardiness has caused me plenty trouble.”

“Hey I may be late but I always show up chum.”

“Ahem,” Waverly cleared his throat,” Gentlemen if you please?”

“If you will excuse me,” Illya smiled as he stood,” since I am no longer needed here.”

Three hours later Napoleon exited the conference room, fairly cross eyed from all the topics they’d discussed. Granted a good portion of the time was allotted to a tongue lashing on the etiquette of being timely…”

He headed to the Commissary, grabbed a cup of coffee and had plans to lay down on the sofa in his office for a quick cat nap, as he had a bit of a headache.

“Napoleon?” Marissa Morgan approached him, looking somewhat distraught.

‘Hi honey, how are you? Ready for our date?”

“About that...there’s something important we need to talk about and I didn’t want to wait until this evening.”

“What’s wrong?” He looked at her with concern.

She leaned in, keeping her voice low. “I’m late.”

“Well, we can talk later, don’t let me keep you.” He took a sip from his mug.

“Noooo, I’m...late as I haven’t gotten my' friend' late”

“Friend?” He parroted,not sure what she was referring to.

“Friend as in menstrual cycle... Napoleon I might be pregnant.”

It was all he could do to keep from spitting out another mouthful of coffee, choking on it for a moment.

“Umm, Marissa? Could we speak about this a bit more privately, say my office?”

“What’s there to talk about? I’m late and you need to do something about it?” Her voice went up an octave.

“Do? What do you want me to do about it?”

“You’re asking me? Why I thought you were a gentleman? I expect you to do the right thing of course.” Now her voice was getting loud.

Napoleon took her gingerly by the elbow, trying to escort her out into the corridor, but she’d have none of it.

“I want your word here and now you’ll marry me Napoleon Solo!”

“Marissa please keep your voice down. You know I can’t do that. Section II agents aren’t permitted to marry. Now if there’s a baby and if it’s mine I’ll see to it you’re both…’

“If its yours? IF ITS YOURS?” She bellowed. “Are you insinuating I’m a slut?” She didn’t wait for an answer, and reached back, swinging her arm around, slapping him in the face. She stormed out of the room in a huff.

Napoleon looked straight ahead, avoiding the accusing stares from rest of the women, mostly from the Secretarial pool, who were having their morning coffee and bagel.

He headed out into the hall, making a beeline for his office and as soon as the doors opened, he saw Illya’s disapproving look.

“I told you the word 'late’ would get you in trouble some day.”

Solo was flabbergasted. “Wait a second, I just found out.”

How Illya knew of his predicament was the least of his worries. If Marissa were pregnant and the Old Man got wind of it, well who knew what would happen.  Waverly wasn’t above doling out punishment, even to his number one agent and CEA.

For the next few days Napoleon laid low, avoiding any female contacts. At the moment the ladies of UNCLE were quite miffed at him, not for the fact that he might have gotten Marissa pregnant but for the fact that he wouldn’t marry her.  Though he couldn’t understand their annoyance with him as they all knew the rules; in spite of that, many of them still chose to go to bed with him.  Not that he wasn’t careful, as he generally wore a condom, but there had been a few times he hadn’t ...and his sleeping with Marissa was one of those times.

There was a knock at his office door, and he looked up from the pile of paperwork left untouched on his desk.  Illya was busy clicking away on his typewriter, with most of his reports completed in triplicate and ready to be filed.

Napoleon assumed it was Eileen, the Section II secretary, there to pick up the finished paperwork.

It was Marissa…

“Look, sweetheart I’m sorry about the other day in the Commissary but I…”

“No Napoleon I’m sorry. I let my emotions get the better of me and I embarrassed you. I should have spoken to you in private like you wanted us to do.”

“What’s done is done.”

“I suppose, but I thought you’d like to hear some good news. I’m not pregnant. I got my period this morning, so you’re off the hook.”

“Thank you Marissa I appreciate you telling me the news. Now if you could do me a small favor, since your possible pregnancy was announced so publicly in front of the other ladies . Would you mind letting them know, as a favor to me? They’re all pretty annoyed at me right now.”

“Why are they mad at you?”

“Long story, but I’d appreciate you mentioning your announcement to them. Thanks.”

“Will do Napoleon, I promise and again, sorry I lost my cool. It was kind of scary. I’m not ready to be a mother just yet.”

“Nor I a father…”

As soon as Marissa left, a young courier from Section III arrived with a parcel for Mr. Solo from Alexander Waverly.

Solo shook his head, chuckling a little upon opening the package.

“What is it? Illya asked.

“A years supply of condoms…” Napoleon said, dumping them out on the floor.

“Mr. Waverly is apparently a believer in the Boy Scout motto of being prepared,” Illya belly laughed. “The Old Man does not miss a trick, does he?”

“Not funny…”

Again Alexander Waverly was lecturing him without even saying a word. This time, it was in his best interests to listen.

Comments

[reapermum.livejournal.com]

Nice take on the prompt.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you!!!

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Oh dear! I wonder how many of those scares the women of UNCLE have had, lol. Excellent!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I think for the most part the male personnel were cautious, someone, I thinks Spike, in one of her stories suggested that medical gave the agents a regular supply of condoms to use.

But even a seasoned man like Napoleon can make an error in judgement now and then.

In my AU stories, Illya's girlfriend/future wife gets pregnant because the condom broke... ahem.

Thanks for commenting!

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Was not expecting that type of "I'm late," nor the ending. (chuckle) That huge pile of a years supply may not be enough with Napoleon's appetite.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Oh I dunno, he's not with a woman 365 days of the year (and I'd say there's more than that in the pile)...It think it's more than enough... at least Waverly thinks so.

Thanks for commenting!

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Hmmm. I believe he's capable of more than one round a night. What's your opinion?

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Oh I'm sure he's capable, but if it's more than one a day then I thick he has something wrong with him...like a sex addiction. I think Napoleon is a bit more discretionary, even though he's a 'frequent flyer.'

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Oh my... Why am I thinking that Illya might fill a few of those up with water and have himself a good time tossing them at THRUSH? That was a story long past due... dare I say... it's late.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Hahaha! What a great idea, fill them up with H2O! thanks!