|When Plans Don't Go To Plan
Author: avrovulcan PM
Illya's carefully made plans don't quite go right! (Thanks to my Beta for helping me with this story. It has been updated and mistakes corrected.)Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Adventure/Angst - Illya K. & Napoleon S. - Chapters: 14 - Words: 33,762 - Reviews: 34 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 03-09-13 - Published: 07-09-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8303068
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This was my first ever story, I'd never written one before and it was all new to me. Since the first posting of this tale, I now have a beta who has gone through it all with a fine tooth comb and gently kicked me into shape (Thanks for all your hard work.). I hope you will now enjoy this reposting. As ever, any comments would be welcome.
Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin, along with April Dancer and Mark Slate and some other characters that appear all belong to The Man From Uncle, I have just brought them into my world to play for a bit!
When Plans Don't Go To Plan
Chapter 1: Room for Two More?
The two agents left Mr Waverly's office as they had just been dismissed after being debriefed following their latest successful mission. They were walking down the grey walled corridors and looking forward to a hot shower as well as a change into something more comfortable before seeing their girlfriends.
Illya was inlove with Rebecca Andrews, another Section 2 agent who had been transferred to New York from London. Napoleon was dating Lizzie Johnson, one of the nurses from Medical, who just happened to help make his stays there a bit more tolerable.
They had returned with the usual cuts and bruises, though nothing that required a stay in Medical and a hot shower would help relieve their discomfort.
Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin had been partners and close friends for six years now, they could anticipate each other allowing them to work together as a single entity. Mr Waverly had every right to be proud of his top two agents. Illya's cool-headedness complemented Napoleons excitable character perfectly.
"So, got anything planned for our well-earned break?" asked Napoleon.
They both had been cleared for six days, well earned, R&R. He could see by the sudden glint in his Russian partners piercing blue eyes as well asthe slight smile that something was planned. Quickly the glint and smile weregone as Illya tried to make his face a blank mask, but it was too late, Napoleon had seen the tell-tale signs.
"Come on, what's with the silent treatment?"
Illya was considering whether or not to tell his friend what he planned to be doing. He didn't want things to be ruined, as it had taken some string pulling to get it all in place. He knew if he told Napoleon, it would be a mistake, but he couldn't keep his friend in the dark… he had to tell him.
"I am taking Rebecca to Bruges. It is our favourite place, and fairly safe. We do not seem to get much trouble there from THRUSH."
"Ahh, Bruges, it's a beautiful place. I know some lovely restaurants there."
Illya recognised that look on Napoleons face.
"Oh hell", he thought . "I knew it, I knew it would be a mistake."
Illya fixed his friend with his best icy stare, one that would have stopped anyone else in their tracks, but Napoleon was immune to it.
"Do not even think about it Napoleon," Illya growled. "I have planned this down to the last detail, and you do not feature in any of it."
Napoleon saw Illya's icy stare, but it didn't mean a thing to him.
"Aww, come on, Bruges is a big enough place for both of us, I won't cramp your style."
Now they were in the changing rooms and Illya started to get undressed, getting ready for his shower. As he took off his black turtleneck and slacks; Napoleon saw his newest set of bruises.
There was a rather large one that was even now changing to a nice shade of purple across his ribs on his left hand side. That was when Illya had an argument with a sizeable piece of concrete on their last mission. How it hadn't broken his ribs, he'd never know. Napoleon was grateful, as that particular piece of concrete had, at the time, been heading in the direction of his own head, but Illya managed to deflect it by putting himself in its path.
Napoleon knew that when Illya had become an UNCLE agent he had sworn to protect Napoleon with his own life, if need be. It was an 'official rumour' that when Mr Waverly retired, Napoleon was to be his replacement. He found out three years ago about this particular arrangement and it made him feel a bit uncomfortable knowing that Illya had been sworn to this. On several occasions, he had very nearly lost his life while saving Napoleons.
"So, when's your flight then?"
Illya sighed, knowing he had lost; he could see his plans were now going to be changed.
"I have not exactly booked a flight."
Napoleon looked at his partner with a puzzled expression.
"So how do you plan to get there?"
Illya resigned himself to the fact that Napoleon and probably Lizzie would end up coming with him and Rebecca.
"You know the new Learjet that UNCLE has just recently acquired?"
"Yes, that one, I am going to take it out and put it through its paces. I arranged it with Mr Waverly and suggested that my planned trip would be perfect – he agreed. It should be ready by tonight, once the techs have finished fitting all the usual UNCLE 'extras'"
Napoleon was impressed; Illya certainly had pulled some strings. He knew his partner was an excellent pilot and would be more than capable of handling the new twin engine jet. Waverly was also impressed with Illya's piloting skills and would often use him to train new pilots when needed within UNCLE.
"If I'm right, it'll have room for two more passengers won't it?"
Napoleon looked at his friend with a glint in his eye, knowing perfectly well after seeing the specs for the new jet it would accommodate eight passengers in addition to the pilot and copilot. He wondered if Lizzie would be able to get some time off at incredibly short notice.
Illya inwardly groaned as he fished his towel out from his locker, wrapped it around his waist and walked over to the shower cubicle.
Just as they were both finishing getting dressed and putting their dirty clothes in plastic bags (that were always left in their lockers just for this purpose), Mark Slate walked in. He'd heard the two agents had returned and greeted them with a cheerfulness that made both Illya and Napoleon realise just how tired they were.
"Hey you two! Welcome back, good to see you've returned in one piece this time."
"Hey to you, too How's April?" asked Napoleon.
"A few bruises, but otherwise she's fine. We've got some time off now too, so she's going to spend some time with Paul, you know they've been together for six months now? That's a record for April"
The trio laughed; they were all friends together. When your life frequently depended others, friendship ran deep.
Mark had a girlfriend, Penny, who he had been seeing for the last few months and quite regularly the eight of them would meet up and spend time together. They were like one big family.
"Are you doing anything with Penny during your time off Mark?" asked Napoleon. He didn't fail to miss the glare from Illya, silently telling him to not say a word, or else he would certainly live to regret it.
"No, not really, It'll just be nice to have some time together, it doesn't happen very often."
Illya tried to make a hasty exit before Napoleon could spill the beans.
"Well, if you do not mind, we will catch up later, I am tired, achy and famished."
Napoleon smiled at his Russian friend, Illya was always hungry and he was always amazed how such a small person could pack away so much.
"You're always hungry, I'd be worried if you weren't!"
"Got any plans Illya, Napoleon?" Asked Slate.
Too late, Illya rolled his eyes while Napoleon told Mark about Illya's arrangement, and now his plan to go to Bruges with Rebecca and Lizzie in the new Learjet.
"How did you manage to get the Old Man to agree to that?" Mark asked Illya.
"Didn't you know that Illya's one of the best pilots we have?" asked Napoleon.
"I never learnt to fly planes, I've always been a chopper guy, though it's something I'd like to be able to do."
"Well, maybe you can get Mr Waverly to ask Illya to teach you sometime, you couldn't get a better instructor."
Illya glared at Napoleon with his 'wait till I get you alone' look and then smiled at Mark, saying he would be pleased to show him anytime.
The inevitable question Illya was dreading to hear finally came.
"Do you have room for two more, I'll just call Penny?"