Man from U.N.C.L.E. Section VII

http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/1390570.html

I didn't have a beta, plus I apologize for not really moving the storyline ahead. It's my first time writing in this fandom. *blush*
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A man sat in front of a mirror, a nice array of cosmetics on the table along with several pairs of colored contact lenses. With an experienced hand, the man chose a foundation two shades darker than his natural skin tone, then returned the rest to their respective places.

Turning his attention to the contacts, his hands trembled slightly. "Should I go green or brown? Odd eyes? Who should I be? A Georgian? Armenian? Chechen? Ukrainian? From the Baltic States? Siberia, perhaps part Inuit? One of the gypsies?"

He shook his head, delaying his final decision for another few minutes as he reached for an eyebrow pencil to cover his pale blond eyebrows. "Perhaps I should add a little red this time. Oh, and maybe a tiny scar." He caught a glimpse of his partner in his peripheral vision, turning away from his own reflection.

"Napoleon, were you able to get a couple of wires?"

"New girl in requisitions. It was like taking candy from a baby." The dark-haired man replied. "Need help?"

"Just wondering which color eyes I should have, plus which State I should be from. It would effect my accent as well as my dialect." Illya turned back to the mirror, then added a tiny scar near the right side of his nose.

"I see what you mean." Napoleon tilted his head slightly to his right, scrutinizing his partner's work. He reached for the appropriate hairpiece for the rest of the look the Soviet was trying for.

"Spacibo, drug."

"You're welcome."

Illya shook his head slightly. "You're not going to pass as a Soviet with your obvious American accent. We're going into Little Russia, and the mafiya will shoot first, ask questions later. Our cover story is that you're first-generation American or originally from the Soviet Union. They'll catch us if you don't adapt.

"I trust you, but this is the first time we couldn't ask for backup from anyone."

The dark-haired man squeezed the blond's shoulder, causing the other to relax.

"If I have to, I'll play deaf and dumb," Napoleon smiled slightly.

"Until a pretty girl crosses your path..."

(Okay, insaneladybug, it's your turn.)