Work Text:
The Body Chocolate
By S.
Alexander Waverly looked up at his two agents. As always, his CEA was a picture of sartorial splendor while the younger agent's clothes were stained from various substances from his work in the lab. "Gentlemen, I have an assignment for you. Tonight there will be a charity event at the Cotillion Ballroom. You will attendâ€"in formal wear." Waverly hesitated and then in a cool tone asked, "I assume that you will be able to comply, Mr. Kuryakin?"
The blond nodded.
"Very well. During the event we expect that either a roll of microfilm or a microdot will be passed to a member of THRUSH. Our feathered friends must not, I repeat MUST NOT take possession of this information. One agent has already died after letting us know about the drop. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," the partners chorused.
"Then I will expect you to read the material in this folder and act on it accordingly. As soon as you are in possession of the information, bring it here to headquarters so we can decipher it."
Napoleon and Illya stood there for a moment and then turned to leave. Just outside Waverly's office, Solo turned to his face his friend. "I'm sorry, Illya. I really wanted us to have the evening to ourselves."
The smaller man smiled. "I understand, Napoleon. We can celebrate another evening."
"Yes, but it won't be the same. Our first year together. It's been a wonderful year."
"For me also. I never dreamed that. . . ." The ever security conscious Russian stopped. A secretary was approaching; she flashed Napoleon a smile and then walked past the two men.
"Another one, Napoleon?"
"Not for over a year, Illya. I swear." The brown eyes took on a concerned look.
"I know, Napoleon. You have never given me reason to distrust you. I am just teasing you. Perhaps we should go read the material in this folder now? You may have to coach me on being suave."
Solo moved as close as he dared, then whispered "I don't want you to be too suave. I might have to challenge someone to a duel and Waverly would frown on that. Besides, I love you the way you are: brilliant, sexy, the best partner a man could have and most importantâ€"mine."
Illya's pale face flushed. "I love you too, but I will show you why later when we are in bed together."
"I'll hold you to thatâ€"in more ways than one." Solo loved to tease his shy partner although in the past year, Napoleon had found a wanton side to this mysterious Russian.
MFUMFU
The ballroom was alight with incandescence. The elite of New York had shown up to chat, drink champagne and nibble at the piles of chocolates, which had provided by the finest Confectioners from around the country. The scent of the chocolates mixed with delicate fragrances of exotic perfumes, worn by women in dresses, rivaling the national debt in price.
Numbers 2 and 11 arrived early. It would be easier to check for Thrushies before the great sprawl spilled over into adjoining rooms, however, nothing seemed untoward except for the faint hints of marijuana being smoked by a bored youngster who had probably been dragged along by his parents. Solo arched one eyebrow at his partner as they passed the long-haired young man, who seemed quite uncomfortable in his tuxedo. The youngster quickly stamped out his smoke when a formidable woman approached, grabbed him by the arm, pulling him inside the main ballroom.
At the door to the ballroom, Napoleon stopped. "You be careful, Illya. If there are any Thrushies, they just might take exception to our presence."
"I will be careful. Now, let me go practice my suaveness." One blue eye winked at the other man.
For the next hour the two agents made their way around the room. From time to time Napoleon would ask a woman to dance, but it was difficult to concentrate on his assignment when he was expected to make nice with a female.
Illya preferred to station himself in close proximity to the mounds of chocolates that graced the small tables. His sweet tooth tormented him unbearably until he finally gave in. Surely it wouldn't hurt to try one or two?
Moving from table to table, the blond indulged in truffles, liqueur-filled trifles, bon bons and many more. The smooth taste of the confections was addictive, but the Russian never lost sight of the objective as he kept an eye out for someone handing over the classified data.
The night wore on and yet no one had made a move or at least it appeared that way. With the burgeoning crowd, something could have been missed. In fact by 11:00 both agents began to think that their information had been wrong, but they knew that Waverly would never accept their leaving before the party broke up.
Taking one more stroll by the chocolate tables, Illya ignored the candies this time due to an uncomfortable queasiness in his stomach. He'd have to ask Napoleon for an Alka-Seltzer when they reached his partner's apartment.
Just as he was passing the special table set up for takeaway goodies, something about the table caught his eye. At each end were bouquets of white roses while in the middle were dozens of chocolate roses, done up in a ribbons. The chocolate roses were intended for the female guests to take with them upon their departure. They were all exactly alike, except for one which had a white ribbon while all the others were pink.
With an eye-defying dexterity, Illya plucked the white-ribboned rose bud from its container. Glancing around to see if anyone was watching, the blond began to nibble at the rose. It seemed perfectly normal. Taking a chance he bit the bud off, engulfing the blob of dark pleasure with his tongue.
Slap! A hard-faced security guard, hired by the hosts, thumped Kuryakin on the back. "I've been watching you, mister. You've been hanging around here an awful lot."
Illya swallowed before replying, "I. . .I like chocolate."
"Well, leave some for the others, boy." The leering face stood nose to nose with the UNCLE agent. "Understand?"
"I. . .I understand." The small man tried to smile.
"See that you do!" The thug shuffled away.
Illya's blue eyes darted around the room. He had to find Napoleon. Fortunately, the urbane man waltzed by with a redhead in his arms just at that moment. It didn't take him long to pick up the subtle machinations of his partner's eyebrows so he gracefully excused himself, making his way to Kuryakin's side.
"What's the matter?"
"We have to go!" Illya demanded.
"What? Do you have the microfilm?"
"Yes," he squeaked.
"Where is it?"
"I'll tell you later. We must go!" Urgency filled his voice.
"Alright, let's get out of here. Just act normal."
Illya nodded as his stomach went blop, bloop, gurgle.
MFUMFU
Napoleon waited outside the UNCLE medical department for some time. He had offered to go in with his partner, but his lover had indicated that he would prefer to be alone. The CEA had reluctantly agreed, knowing of Illya's obsession with privacy.
Solo took the opportunity to report to Alexander Waverly whose expressive eyes had rolled when given the details of the assignment, but had only said, "Very well, Mr. Solo, keep me informed."
Several hours later, the assignment came to a successful conclusion so Napoleon was free to take his extremely pale lover home along with the welcome news that both men would have the next day at liberty.
By the time they reached Napoleon's apartment, Kuryakin was out on his feet, wanting nothing more than to curl up next to his lover in bed.
Solo complied, pulling the smaller man into his arms for a kiss as they lay next to each other. Releasing him slightly, Napoleon whispered, "Our anniversary didn't go quite as I planned, did it?"
"It's all right. We have all day tomorrow to celebrate," Illya reassured him.
"Are you sure you're going to feel like it? You look awfully pale."
"A good night's sleep and your careful. . .nursing will do the trick," the blond promised him.
"I hope so." Napoleon kissed him again. "You taste great. Nothing I like more than chocolate-flavored Illya."
Illya sat straight up in the bed. "Napoleon, you promised!"
"Alright, love, you're right. I forgot." In his best Boy Scout oath, he held up his hand in a pledge: "I will never mention chocolate in your presence againâ€"or at least for a month!"
The blue eyes narrowed. "Napoleon!"
"Now, love, you know you couldn't really give up chocolate." Solo's eyes twinkled.
"Well, maybe not, but I don't want to hear about it for at least six months!"
The CEA shrugged and then sighed, "If you say so, but I guess that means I'll have to cancel our delayed honeymoon in Hershey, Pennsylvania!"
Illya pounced on the man, tickling him until the CEA cried,
"Uncle!"
The End