Behind The Lens - HODOWE Ben Franklin's Birthday

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Title: Behind the Lens
Author: glennagirl
Prompt: Ben Franklin's Birthday (something related to Ben)
Word Count: 1303
Genre: silly
*Ben Franklin invented the bifocal lens when he became annoyed with having to switch back and forth from regular to reading glasses.  Things haven't changed much ;)
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A circle of women were standing at the end of the corridor, the voice of one lone speaker rising above the hum of air conditioning and whatever else ran through the walls of Headquarters.  Napoleon Solo walked past and inclined his ear in hopes of hearing what was being said without appearing too nosey.

"It is true, I saw him trying them on.  He looked like John Lennon with those round lenses.  Well, actually he looked quite nice."

A litter of giggles went up and then a collective sigh.

'Hmmm… I haven't tried on glasses lately so they must be talking about Illya…' Napoleon was getting used to it after the past couple of years; his partner continued to evoke sighs and dreamy expressions from certain of the UNCLE women.  He didn't feel threatened by that, but his curiosity as to why continued to stalk his male ego.

Napoleon wasn't aware of Illya getting new glasses, although it was a nearly unanimous  opinion that he ought to.  The black glasses he preferred were overwhelmingly hated by the girls because they couldn't 'look into his pretty blue eyes'.   Yuck, that was no way to talk about an enforcement agent.

The man who was Chief Enforcement Agent of UNCLE Northwest had a pang of something unidentifiable at that last thought.   He wondered if the ladies might approve of him wearing glasses; not that he needed them but… just for effect.

Napoleon headed for the prop department, a hidden treasure chest of clothing and accessories used for disguises and subterfuge.  Surely there would be a pair of Solo friendly spectacles that he could try out on his admirers.

When Illya walked into the cafeteria for lunch he noticed a crowd of women around the table where he could just make out the head of his partner.  The girls seemed to be admiring something about him that he couldn't quite see…

Glasses? Napoleon was wearing glasses, wire rimmed and oddly similar to the ones he had tried on yesterday.  He had left them in the props department after trying them out but had abandoned them for another style; these were bifocals and he had found it very difficult to maneuver with that type of lens.       He had wondered how they ended up in that area, probably left by someone inadvertently because generally the props only appeared to have functions, they weren't real.

Napoleon was enjoying the attention but he couldn't really zero in on anything, his vision seemed oddly distorted by the glasses he wore.  When he looked down to try and skewer something off of his plate he found himself getting a little dizzy from the effect.   Still, the ladies thought he looked handsome in the glasses and had compared him favorably to his Russian partner.

As Illya approached the table the women began to scatter, they knew the agents might need to speak in private and besides, Kuryakin looked a little grim at the moment.  He was, in fact, very curious.

"Napoleon, why on earth are you wearing those glasses?   I happen to know you don't need them and besides, those are bifocals; I tried them on yesterday and found I could not wear them."

It was subtle, the shift in his expression as Napoleon considered his quandary.  Should he admit the folly of his little experiment, or simply play out this scene as though he had no ulterior motives other than seeing better?

"Oh, well… I was having a little trouble reading and thought I might need something. Jenks, from the prop department, suggested these, um... before I go get my eyes check.   You understand.  Well you have to wear reading glasses."

Illya thought that last sounded like an accusation rather than a statement of fact.

"I  do, all of the close up work I've done over the years affected my eyesight.  You, on the other hand, have perfect 20/20 vision.  I  do not believe you Napoleon, you have something in mind and I think it is quite obvious."

Now he was in a pickle.  Napoleon hated it when his partner was right about things like this, and hedging his way around the truth was going to be tricky.

"Really Illya, you wound me.' Solo mimicked stabbing himself in the heart, but the Russian was not moved by it.

"What possible motive could I have for choosing to wear glasses where none are needed.  I think it's possible that last THRUSH drug did something to my eyesight."  There, that was plausible.  Let's see Kuryakin take that one apart.

"We were given the same drugs, and my eyesight has not been affected in the least."  Aha, that was easily debunked.

"Yes but you already have vision  problems, whereas I have none.  I suppose it only affected me because … because …"

Just then Charlotte Smythe approached the pair, her lilting  drawl accented by an impressively voluptuous figure that Napoleon had been trying to capture with his own charming ways.  She was not intimidated by these two men, Charlotte understood her own brand of seduction.

"Napoleon, I must say that the sight of you in those glasses has given me an entirely new perspective.  I think I might just accept your invitation to dinner after all."

Illya smiled, triumphant once more.

Napoleon was caught, the very thing he had sought to achieve was now marred by Illya's knowledge of the little scheme.  And how would he navigate through an entire evening with the blasted bifocals?  He was actually getting a little dizzy from wearing them.

"Ah, sweet Charlotte.  You have made my day, and hopefully my Friday night.  What time should I pick you up?"  Carry on Solo, don't let this ruin your plan.

"Oh, well …"  Illya's smile was even broader now.

"Actually Napoleon, Charlotte and I have a date for Friday evening, I suppose you'll have to choose another night."

Charlotte was both envied for her style and hated for its success.  The other women were willing, nonetheless, to take notes on how she did it.

"I see, well… Saturday then?"  Napoleon shot his friend a look that said 'we'll talk about this later', but for Charlotte his trademark smile was directed to her.

"That sounds just peachy, Napoleon." She held up her right hand to her face as though holding a phone and mouthed 'call me' before exiting the room.  Napoleon and Illya both watched, each of them anticipating their dates with the sultry Southerner.

"Okay, well… "  Illya was smiling again.

"So, you thought to gain admirers by wearing glasses.  That is a strange and, if I may say so, desperate method my friend.  Surely you don't intend to wear those?  I can tell your eyes are nearly crossed from the exhaustion of trying to peer around the bottom lens."

Illya was right, Napoleon had a headache from looking through the lenses.  For someone with perfect eyesight the strain of looking through a prescription lens was a form of torture.

"I was just curious, the girls were all talking  about you wearing these glasses and I thought…"

"You thought one more method of seduction was fair game?  Napoleon…' Illya drew in a long breath and  exhaled it.

"You my friend, are exhausting.  I don't know whether to be irritated or flattered."  Napoleon raised an eyebrow at that.  He hadn't thought of it that way.

"You're right, it was silly, but no harm was done.  Well, except for the headache I have."

Napoleon removed the bifocal glasses and slipped them into his breast pocket.  Back to props they would go and he would repent of trying to play the game as anyone other than himself.

In the corner sat George Dennel, black rimmed glasses  prominently  positioned on his face.

'Funny,' he mused to himself, 'first Illya and now Napoleon trying to cash in on my intellectual look.'

No matter, he needed to get home early and be ready for his date with Charlotte.

               

Comments

[carabele.livejournal.com]

Oh my! The George Dennell bit at the end! [giggle]

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thanks, George really made it for me as well.