#and do the napoleons think of joining together? do they think of maybe combining their own forces?!

[isthenapoleoncute]

My favourite thing about napoleons is that sometimes they pick a fight with every country in the world and so then I have to get up at 3 am and grab them from the pound before they are catapulted to a Saint Helena

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 30: All That Knowledge And No Experience

[As y’all can probably tell from the lack of original posts, I’ve been pretty blocked with this chapter. There’s other parts of the story that I have planned out and really want to get to already, so this just feels like writing filler even though I love focusing on Anaïs’ interactions with all the residents. Sorry if it’s not as interesting T_T but good, juicy shit is coming soon, I promise!]

“Anaïs, wait.” Before I can follow Napoleon off the carriage, Isaac grips my wrist to stop me. I turn to him, confused, and he silently reaches up to adjust the velvet choker around my neck. “That’s better,” he says, blushing slightly. “The bruise was showing.”

“Oh. Thank you,” I smile.

Napoleon offers his hand to help me step down onto the cobbled street. I quickly let go and light myself a cigarillo before taking hold of his arm again, letting him guide me down the road, Isaac close behind us.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” I remind them, earning a chuckle from Napoleon.

“You’ll see.”

I become absorbed by a patient silence, quietly smoking as we walk. By the time we come to a stop in the middle of a square, I have already put out my cigarillo. A group of children are gathered by the fountain. I wonder what they’re playing.

To my surprise, Isaac approaches them. A little girl’s face lights up as she rushes to hug him, causing a shy smile to grow on his face, and the rest of the children quickly stop what they are doing and focus their attention on my companions.

“Bonjour, everyone!” Napoleon announces, only for the children to greet him in unison. “Let’s see, who’s missing... Has anyone seen Mathieu?”

“He fell off a tree and sprained his ankle!” a boy yells his reply from the back of the group. Most of them have sat down on the floor, facing towards us, expectantly.

“Oh, no! If you visit him, André, tell him I hope he gets better soon,” Napoleon sighs. He then claps once, indicating the start of what I now think is a lesson of some sort. “Alright, gamins, before we start, I would like to introduce you to our friend. Say hello to Anaïs, everyone!” The children oblige, yelling out a poorly coordinated chorus of ‘bonjours’ as Napoleon gently nudges me in front of him. I wave my hand at them with a chuckle. “She is a scientist, like Isaac.”

I open my mouth to correct him, but Isaac is already ahead of me.

“Physics and chemistry are two entirely different disciplines, you should know that by now,” he lightly scolds the soldier before turning to the ‘audience’. “So yes, she is a scientist, but we focus on separate fields. Any questions?”

“Me! Me!” The little girl that hugged Napoleon waves her hand in the air enthusiastically, and Isaac nods, signalling her to speak. “Hello mademoiselle Anaïs, my name is Marie and I would like to know what is ‘chimistry’,” she rambles quickly, causing me to laugh at her cuteness.

“Well, Marie...” I begin to answer, smiling. I make sure to talk louder so the rest of the group can hear. “Chemistry is like... a recipe for the world. Everything around us is made of tiny little particles that are too small for us to see. There are different types of them, and they combine to make... well, everything. Including ourselves,” I explain, gesturing vaguely at my surroundings. “I study how those different particles react with each other to make new things, and try to find combinations that work well together, that are stable. Does that make sense?” I ask. The students nod.

“What is ‘stable’?” an older boy, about 12 or so, chimes in. I look at Napoleon, and he smiles at me approvingly.

“That’s a very good question... What’s your name?”

“Pierre,” he answers.

“Alright, Pierre. Imagine I’m baking a cake. What would happen if I forgot to put eggs in the batter?” I start, gaining confidence. This is easy.

“It would... fall apart?”

“Correct! The ingredients don’t work well without the egg to keep it all together. The egg makes it stable, so it stays as it is instead of all the different parts of the cake trying to separate. Now, what if I got the eggs right, but I used sand instead of flour?” I continue, chuckling at the disgusted noises from the younger kids. “That would be... I don’t know what that would be, but certainly not a cake!” They laugh along with me. I am not exactly comfortable with teaching, but at least they think I’m funny. “Do you all see what I mean? If I changed one ingredient in the mix, the result would be a completely different thing. If I stirred them in the wrong order, or if I baked it all at the wrong temperature for the wrong amount of time, the result would no longer be a cake. Maybe something resembling a cake, but it would not have all the qualities of one.”

I observe the crowd of children for a few seconds, but no further questions seem to pop up, so I let Napoleon take over as I go sit on the edge of the fountain. It’s taller than the one in the mansion’s garden, and I struggle a little to climb on the stone surface while keeping my dress out of the water. I wobble briefly, convinced that I am about to fall, but ultimately manage to find my balance and get comfortable.

As Isaac and Napoleon begin to divide the students in two groups, he turns to me, questioningly. I think he wants me to join them.

“Oh, I don’t have anything prepared, Napo,” I say, flustered. “Can’t teach if I’m not ready. Besides, I want to watch you two,” I smile from my seat. “What you’re doing with these kids is great... I’m sure they’ll thank you for it in the future.”

Although neither of them really explained the situation, then did not have to. Judging by the children’s clothes, they were probably not privileged enough to afford an education. And then, there’s the fact that we’ve bee teaching class in the town square, as opposed to, you know, an actual school. It’s rewarding charity work, and I can see why they do it. I, however, have no idea how to teach, and I don’t want to ruin the lessons they had planned for the day.

Napoleon teaches history to his half of the group. He tells it like a tale, his charm and flair inevitably captivating the attention of the children. They will surely remember every word he says if he keeps making it that interesting. Meanwhile, Isaac slowly makes his way through each individual student, correcting their equations and taking his time to explain everything they have trouble with. He works patiently, aware of each child’s capacity, and gently guides them towards the correct answer without giving it away. It’s actually quite sweet.

I enjoy watching them until the bell of a nearby church tolls, and I count the chimes. Time to go. I approach Isaac to tell him, as he is the one closest to me, and he excuses himself to the children, pulling me aside. Napoleon sees and does the same before joining us.

“Thank you for today, it was lovely to see this side of you two,” I explain with a smile. “But I have to leave now. Don’t wanna be late for the play.”

“Be careful, nunuche,” Napoleon tells me, growing serious. I wave him off, rolling my eyes.

“Seriously, I’ll be fine!” I protest, annoyed, before turning to Isaac. “All good?” I tilt my head up so he can see my neck and point at the velvet ribbon tied around the bruises. He takes a look.

“All good,” he repeats. “Have fun at the theatre.”

“Thanks.”

I stand on my toes to kiss both their cheeks, like I usually do, and wave at the children as I walk away from the group. I make my way into a narrow street, following the map I brought with me. This time, le Comte gave me a purse along with the dress and choker, and it has proven to be very useful. No more storing items in my stockings, at least. 

A carriage passes by me and abruptly stops. Speak of the devil, it is le Comte’s voice I hear calling out to me from inside.

“Need a ride, ma chérie?” he offers, opening the door.

“Thanks, comte, but I prefer to walk. I haven’t really done much since, you know,” I explain, pointing at my neck, “so I appreciate the exercise.”

He retreats back to say something to the driver, but he speaks to quickly for me to catch it. He then proceeds to step out of the carriage fully before it drives off without him.

“Allow me to accompany you, Anaïs,” he smiles, offering his arm. “I, too, was invited to the opening.” 

“Great, we get to actually spend time together this time,” I reply, returning the smile, and hold on to his arm. He chuckles.

The conversation continues where we left off three days ago in his study. Le Comte is extremely charming, almost supernaturally so. I had forgotten that he is supernatural, but it no longer bothers me. I think it never really did.

We are about halfway to the theatre when he leans down and whispers in my ear without stopping.

“We’re being followed.” 

I turn around to shoot a discreet glance behind me, and sure enough, a man I saw near the square is walking a few paces behind us. I barely noticed him then, but now that I am paying attention, I recognize him from the coffee house. Shit.

We are crossing the same part of the city. That’s probably how he found me. Regardless, I know this neighbourhood already, and I can take advantage of that. I pull le Comte into an alleyway and press myself against the wall. For a moment I think we’ve lost the man, but my breath of relief gets stuck in my throat when I hear his footsteps approaching once again.

“Kiss me,” I command, pulling on le Comte’s lapel to force him closer.

“Pardon?”

“No time to explain, just do it.” He stares at me, confusion glimmering in the gold of his eyes. “Dude, just kiss me, quickly!” I whisper urgently. He hesitantly meets my lips with his and puts his arms on either side of me to lean on the wall as I push him against me, my hand on the back of his neck.

The kiss is chaste, a fact obscured by the deceivingly passionate position we are in. I keep my eyes open throughout, enough to see the man from the coffee house peek into the alleyway and then leave, uttering a curse at the prospect of having lost sight of me. It isn’t until his footsteps fade away completely that I turn my face away from le Comte, a sigh of relief managing to escape my lips this time.

“Sorry about that,” I breathe out. “I’m the one he was after.”

“Is he the man Sebastian told me about? Is he giving you any more trouble?” he asks, worried.

“You mean with the coffee? Yeah, that’s him.” I thought he would have forgotten me after a few weeks, but it turns out that man is as bitter as the drinks he scams people into paying.

“You do know I could have fought him, don’t you? He is no match for a pureblood vampire, after all,” le Comte says, looking in the direction of the main street. “Nobody threatens my guests. That scoundrel needs to be taught a lesson-”

“You will do no such thing,” I interrupt him, interlocking my fingers with his before he can get away. “Arthur already punched him in the face and it only made things worse. Besides, we have somewhere to be. Don’t want your shirt to get wringkled or something.”

“You are right,” he chuckles. “Ma chérie, always so thoughtful. Although if you see that man again, do not hesitate to let me know. I will handle it,” he assures me, regaining his serious expression. The look in his eyes is threatening, but not towards me. I have never seen him like that, even though he is certainly protective of me. That he has proven since the day we met.

“Okay,” I nod, making eye contact so he can see I understood. I begin walking out of the alleyway and gently pull him along, still grasping his hand. “Now let’s go, we’re going to be late.”

[tinabean37]

Hey! How are you? Is it ok if I made a request from the Disney prompt list? If it's possible, I'd love for you to make a drabble combining 7 (Mike Wazowsky) and 29 (Merida). If not, pick your favourite and let the muse run free. Oh, BTW, I love 'My Superman', any plans on keep running that one? Thank you so much in advance! All the love!

I got two similar requests, so I combined this one with:

And yes, I am planning on continuing “My Superman”, I am working on some requests before I get back to my WIPs. I am so glad you like the story. I will do my best to get the next chapter out soon. :) 

I hope you guys like this drabble. Feedback is always appreciated!

You can request your own prompt if you like too. The list is here.

~~~~~~~~~

The Thief

Napoleon Solo x reader (This is my first time writing for Napoleon Solo, and I definitely had fun with it!)

Warnings: None that I can think of. Maybe some slight sexual harassment. 

The soft clink of the ice in your glass was drowned out by the voices of all the party guests surrounding you. Scanning around the crowd, you let out an excited gasp as you spotted your target across the room. You began to make your way over to the short, stocky man, swinging your hips to exaggerate your flirty ruse. When you got close, you sped up and feigned tripping on your heels, bumping into him, and spilling your drink on his coat. He spun towards you, with an angry look in his eye until he took you in. Just as you thought. You wore this skin-hugging violet dress on purpose. You knew how you looked in it, and how other men looked at you.

“Oh, sir; please forgive me. Too much champagne.” You lilted, batting your eyelashes at him like a schoolgirl. That was all it took for him to be smitten. “Please, let me help clean this up.” You didn’t wait for him to respond before you had a rag in hand, helping him dry the champagne off his suit. You actually heard him let out a soft moan while your hands were on him. What a creep. 

“Not a problem dear. How many other chances would I get to have a beautiful woman put her hands on me.” He gave you an almost predatory look, which made your skin crawl. When your lips curled into a smile, he mistook it, thinking it was meant for him. But, in fact, it was because your expertly sly fingers found what you were looking for unnoticed, tucked into his suit pocket. The key to the room where the auction items were kept. Before he could try to leach on to you, you gracefully excused yourself, feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

You quietly made your way out of the main room, so not to draw too much attention to yourself. You stealthily made your way down the hallway towards the door you knew held the item you were looking for. Once there, you looked around one more time to make sure there wasn’t anyone who would see you, as you used the key you apprehended from the greasy man upstairs. You darted inside and quietly closed the door. 

You scanned all the items on the tables and shelves. What you were looking for wasn't very large. Easy enough for you to carry out, concealed in your bag. What you didn't know, however, was that you weren't alone in that room. Well trained eyes watched you from a shadowed corner. Quiet as he could, he silently made his way over to you, asking a question directly in your ear. 

“So, what are we looking for?” he asked casually. Unable to stop yourself, you let out a muffled scream as you quickly put your hand over your mouth. How had this man gotten the drop on you? You turned quickly to face him and were met with the bluest eyes you had ever seen. His dark curls were slicked back, and he held the ghost of a smile on his perfect lips. If you weren’t so aggravated with him for scaring you and interrupting your mission, you would have relished in having someone like him so close. 

“I’m sorry, can I help you with something?” you snapped. 

“You look simply stunning in that dress. That color looks lovely with your eyes.” was his response. 

“Alright, if you won’t answer that question, how about this one. Who are you?” 

“Your perfume is quite intoxicating. L’Air du Temps, is it not?” Frustrated, you steadied yourself to tell this rude, but handsome, stranger to take a hike. However, you stopped when you noticed the priceless antique jewelry box that you came for sitting on a shelf, just a few feet from you. You didn’t even make it 2 steps towards the shelf when you were quickly pulled back and turned around by the stranger's rough grip on your arm. Your hand snapped up to slap him for his rough treatment of you, but he grabbed your other arm to stop the assault. You took a deep breath, and you laid into him. 

“What the hell are you doing? Who the hell are you? The longer we are in this room the higher the chance we get caught. You are going to ruin everything.” You spat. His piercing blue eyes were aggravatingly calm as he listened to your stream. 

“Miss y/l/n, this much anger will leave wrinkles on that beautiful face, and we can’t have that.” Your eyes widened first in shock, then narrowed in frustration. You did not like being a step behind. You told him as much. 

“Well, it seems like I am at a disadvantage. You appear to know me, but I have no idea who you are.”

“Oh, I know a great deal about you. Your name is y/f/n y/l/n. You were born in Hamburg, Germany to Military parents, and moved to France when you were in your teens. That is when you began your life of crime, starting small with shoplifting, then working your way up the line. Cars, artwork, and then priceless antiquities. Which I am guessing is why you are here tonight. Am I close?” You did your best to hide your shock. 

“So I see you’ve done your homework. I’m impressed, but I still don’t know who you are.”

“Former fellow tradesman turned opportunist. Napoleon Solo.” He said with almost a bow. Of course, you had heard of him. He was famous, or infamous. You weren’t quite sure yet. 

“Well well, Mr. Solo. You are quite the legend.”

“Legends are lessons, they ring with truth.” He replied with a cocky smile. 

“Yes, well, it was lovely to meet you, but I am here on business, and it is none of yours.” You turned on your heel and started back towards the shelf. Yet, once again, you were roughly grabbed and dragged back into the dark corner you had just vacated. Almost in reflex, your hand snapped up again, ready to strike when Napoleon once again grabbed it midair. 

“Please stop trying to slap me. I am also here on business. My team and I have intel that within one of these items, is hidden some sensitive information about our government that would be very dangerous in the wrong hands if you get my drift.”

“So, it’s true then. You have become a turncoat. Joined the Feds. Out to stop those you helped create. Very poor form.” You shot him a mocking frown, and he almost chuckled. 

“Sure, let's go with that. However, I meant what I said. I’m not sure what you think you are going to walk away with here, but please, leave this to me.” You thought about what he had told you for a moment. You had your eye on that jewelry box. The rumor was it once belonged to the royal family. You couldn’t let that slip through your fingers.

“Mr. Solo, I truly appreciate the situation you are in, but, I can’t find it in me to care.” You said just as smug as he did. Before he could grab you again, you sped to the shelf and grabbed the box. 

“Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!” His voice was stern, but before you could think, the door handle began to shake. Someone was coming in. Without hesitation, Napoleon took the three large strides to you, grabbed you close to him, and closed your lips in a kiss. At first, you wanted to push him away, what did he think he was doing? But then it hit you. This would be your cover as to why you were in here. So you went along with it. And the longer you held your ruse, the more you let yourself enjoy it. 

His lips moved expertly against yours. Your mouths molded together like a perfect masterpiece. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, bringing him closer as his arms circled tighter around your waist. Lost in the moment you let yourself forget that this was just to keep up appearances, and you started to enjoy it. You traced his bottom lip with your tongue, his lips parting to meet your exploration with his own. The smell of this man was nothing compared to the taste of him. You could taste the brandy still, and it almost was as intoxicating as if you drank it yourself. But all too soon, the moment was gone when the men who were at the door saw the two of you. 

“Hey, you two can’t be in here.” You froze when you realized it was the greasy man from the other room that reprimanded both of you. Napoleon started this charade, you left it up to him to talk us out of it. You played the bashful woman, hiding your face in his shirt.

“Oh please, pardon us. We were just looking for a little...privacy.” He looked down at you and winked teasingly. You played along automatically because that impish look made you blush. “The door was unlocked so we let ourselves in. We couldn’t pass up the privacy and the dark if you know what I mean?” The two men that caught you shared a knowing look and offhand comment between the two of them. 

“I can understand that. A woman like that on your arm, I’d look for the darkest most private place myself.” It wasn’t just the statement made you really uncomfortable, it was the look and smile that accompanied it. You guessed Napoleon picked up on it as well because you felt him tense under your grip. His arm wrapped tighter around your waist, molding you as close as he could to him.

“Yes, well, please excuse us, we will find someplace else to continue this.” He led you both out of the room, making sure he was standing between you and the men in the doorway. Once you were out of the room, he kept walking you out of the building and into the parking lot. You tried to turn back around more than once, your job not yet done, but he wouldn’t release the grip he had on you. When you were far enough away from the building, you squirmed out of his grasp.

“What the hell are you doing? I need to go back there. I didn’t get what I came for?”

“You are not going back. I didn’t like the look of that guy. Plus…” Napoleon reached into his suit coat and took out the exact jewelry box you had come for. Your eyes went wide, and instinctively, you reached out for the item.

“You got it? Amazing. Let me have it, and I will be on my way.” He held tight to the box not giving you what you wanted.

“I can’t do that. Your target and my target have turned out to be the same.” Confused, you watched him open the box carefully. It looked empty, but Napoleon was a pro. He knew better. He placed the box down on the hood of his sleek black car and pulled out a small Swiss Army knife from his other coat pocket. When you finally realized his intention with his new tool, it was too late. Using the small sharp blade, he cut a small slit in the lining on the inside top of the box. He dug his fingers inside and pulled out a small yellowed envelope. You couldn't believe all the trouble you just went through to get to the box tonight was just rendered useless by this indelicate oaf. 

“You have got to be kidding me. That box was going to fetch me millions. Now I have nothing. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You don’t have ‘nothing’. You shared the company and a truly amazing kiss, might I add, with Napoleon Solo himself.” You looked at him to see if he was serious, and he flashed you a million-watt smile that made you blush and smile back. “I’d say you had a pretty good night.” You blew out a breath and shrugged. What else do you have to do now? You closed the gap between the two of you and met his lips in another kiss. Who knows, maybe this could end up in a lucrative partnership. All you knew was, kissing Napoleon was the best consolation prize you’d ever received.

[myriadimagines]

You Can’t Choose The Both Of Us

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. One Shot

Characters: [FEMALE] Reader x Illya Kuryakin + Gaby Teller & Napoleon Solo

Warnings: Mentions of terrorism, bombings and death

Request: “And for my Man from UNCLE one could you do one where gaby and iilya like FINALLY kiss and a gif with that with him like looking at her? Ik it’s different but just wondering.” - weasleyswizarding-wheezes

Word Count: 2,030

A/N: The related gif imagine is here [x] !

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You looped your arm through Napoleon’s as the both of you confidently strolled through the hotel lobby. You lifted your chin and tried to appear as haughty as possible, but for Napoleon is seemed to come naturally. You smirked at the thought, and the pair of you made it to the front desk.

“Hotel room reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Smithson.” Napoleon handed his fake credit card to the young girl at the desk, who hurriedly took the card and typed something into the computer. You looked around you, and saw Illya and Gaby making their way to the elevator. Illya looked up and gave you a small smile, which you returned, before he disappeared behind the closing doors of the elevator.

The four of you were undercover as two married couples. You were checking into the hotel now, and would be attending a formal event later in the evening to investigate a bomb threat. Illya and Gaby’s room were two floors above yours, but all four of you agreed to meet in Napoleon’s room to arrange the final details of your mission and prepare.

“Your room keys.” the young girl handed Napoleon two cards, which he took after winking at her. She blushed and looked away, and Napoleon guided you towards the elevator.

“Did Peril and Gaby already make it upstairs?” he asked casually, and you nodded. He fiddled with the collar of his suit as you stepped into the elevator, and as the doors closed you unhooked your arm from his and leaning against the shiny marble wall.

“What?” he laughed. “Don’t like standing next to me?”

“Believe it or not, Solo,” you straightened the skirt of your dress. “Not everyone is in love with you.”

“So who are you in love with?” Napoleon responded unexpectedly. You looked up in surprise. He raised an eyebrow, but your shrugged.

“Well I don’t have to be in love with anyone, do I?” you commented vaguely. “Besides, getting attached while having the job we have isn’t a very good combination.”

“Valid point.” Napoleon said as the doors slid open. The two of you strolled down the corridor in silence as he counted the room numbers. You didn’t hate Napoleon; he was a good guy and was entertaining to be around, but he did have a massive ego. No, you had feelings for someone else. Not that you would admit it though, and you knew Napoleon would tease you relentlessly for having a crush on the Red Peril.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when you thought about him. Napoleon stopped in front of your door and swiped the card, and Gaby and Illya were already inside. Illya was leaning by the curtains, peering out the window while Gaby lay on the couch inspecting her freshly painted fingernails.

“y/n!” Gaby leapt up and hugged you. “I haven’t seen you in like, an hour! But an hour with Illya feels like a lifetime.” Laughing, you hugged her back. You were definitely the closest to Gaby in the team, and the two of you were best friends. The both of you fell back into the couch, giggling at Illya turned around and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Well, Peril, did you miss me?” Napoleon joked as he set down his briefcase on the desk and took out his laptop.

“I always do, Cowboy.” Illya sarcastically shot back, but he walked over to look at the display Napoleon had just pulled up on the computer screen. “These are the men we’re looking for?”

You pulled Gaby off the couch and with your arms looped, you joined the two men. You look at the computer to see two serious looking men staring back at you. European, you assumed. Probably French.

“Rumoured terrorists.” Napoleon briefly stated. “That’s the mission: keep an eye out for them and the arrest them.”

“Should be easy.” Gaby shrugged, and you grinned. Although not the easiest mission the four of you had, it definitely wasn’t going to be the hardest. Unless tonight had a sudden change in events.

“Alright, so Peril and Gaby will go to the formal first.” Napoleon spun around in his chair to face you guys. “y/n and I will arrive about 20 minutes later. You guys will start scanning the ball first, and we’ll bring up the rear. You all have radio devices attached to your collars, so if anything comes up we’ll contact each other. Don’t separate as a couple, you’re better off together if anything happens.”

“Well then!” Gaby clapped her hands together. “That’s settled. Let’s go try on our dresses, y/n.” Tugging your arm, the two of your darted into the bedroom, picking up your bags as you passed. You close door behind you, and turned around to see that Gaby had already unpacked her dress.

“Pretty.” she held up the dress and to show you, and you nodded in agreement. It was a short orange and white dress, which you knew would look good on her. You reached into your bag and pulled out yours, a pretty white halter dress with lace details on the back. Gaby nodded in approval, as she took off the dress she was already wearing to change. You followed suit, and soon both of you had thrown your original clothes on the bed and were dancing around in your formal dresses.

“You look good, y/n.” Gaby grinned and the two of you twirled each other around.

“As do you, Ms. Teller.” you smiled at her, and the both of you laughed.

“Actually, I’m Mrs. Spencer.” Gaby joked, and you laughed but felt a little hollow. Gaby and Illya had gone undercover as Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, and the two were always paired together because they had ‘great chemistry’, according to Waverly. You never spoke out against it, but it did make you feel a little jealous inside.

“Are you going to come out anytime soon?” Napoleon’s voice called out, and Gaby held your hand and used her free hand to dramatically open the door. She spun you around before spinning herself around.

“Very nice.” Napoleon laughed as he clapped, and Gaby curtsied in response. You smiled bashfully as you noticed Illya staring at you.

“The dress looks nice on you, y/n.” he managed to get out, and you smiled.

“Well,” Gaby announced as she made her way to the centre of the room and stood on the table. “I don’t think you husbands can compete with us beautiful wives. Maybe y/n and I should just go to the formal together.”

“Good idea, Gabs.” you giggled as you ran your hands through your hair. You quickly looked at your reflection in the mirror by the door, and frowned. “I’m going to fix my hair, be out in a minute.” You made your way back into the bathroom and closed the door.

“You know,” Napoleon said as you exited. “You two are always posing as a couple, but you’ve never kissed before.”

“Why would we need to?” Gaby replied a little defensively.

“I don’t know, maybe it makes your cover a little more authentic.” Napoleon suggested, and Gaby rolled her eyes. Illya leaned one of the armchairs, feeling a little uncomfortable. He liked Gaby, sure, but that wasn’t who he truly wanted to be with.

“Maybe you should practice. For tonight.” Napoleon gestured between Gaby and Illya, and Gaby laughed as you came out of the bathroom with your hair combed and braided.

“Perhaps we should. I mean, how can he resist me?” Gaby grinned, flicking her skirt. Illya stood frozen, looking at you uncertainly, but you didn’t realise.

“What are you guys on about?” you looked at them curiously, but Gaby and Napoleon didn’t seem to acknowledge you. Shrugging, you went to Napoleon’s laptop to reread the files he had shown you guys.

“Go on then.” Napoleon prodded, and Illya slowly made his way up to Gaby. Gaby looked at him uncertainly. With her standing on the table, she was around the same height as Illya, just slightly taller. The two of the paused before she finally leaned down and the two of them kissed.

“It’s about time, Peril.” Napoleon smirked and he went over to you and leaned on the desk.

“About time for wha-” you asked, turning around to follow Napoleon’s eyes. “Oh.”

You wanted to take your eyes of the sight of Illya and Gaby kissing, but you couldn’t, mainly due to the fact that Illya was looking at you too. The two of them pulled away, and Illya was still looking at you, but Gaby didn’t seem to notice. She stepped off the table and made her way over to you, but you were already headed for the door.

“Where are you going, y/n?” Gaby asked, alarmed. You quickly shrugged her off. You couldn’t be mad at her, even though you were best friends she had no idea about your feelings towards Illya.

“I think I left something in the lobby.” you excused yourself, grabbing the room card that was left on the nearby table. Before anyone could protest, you had already left and began sprinting for the elevator. It slid open, and you rushed inside, jabbing the buttons to close the door. Before they could close, someone rushed in.

Illya.

“Great, did you forget something too?” you snapped, a little harsher than you meant. Illya looked at you, a little hurt, but still stepped inside and stood next to you. The door closed, and the two of you stood in silence as the elevator descended.

“I’m sorry.” he spoke, but you ignored him, staring straight forward. He reached a hand out to you, but you jerked away. The doors opened and you ran out, even though it wasn’t even the floor you wanted to go to. Illya ran after you as you sped down the corridor, before ending up at the pool.

Taking a deep breath, you took of your sandals and sat down on the edge, dipping your legs in. The pool was empty, surprisingly, and you closed your eyes and soaked in the sunshine. You heard Illya come up next to you, and he rolled up his pant legs and sat down next to you.

“What do you want, Illya?” you whispered, your eyes still closed.

“To apologize.”

“For what?” you looked at him, trying to seem innocuous. But the look in his eyes told you he knew otherwise.

“I know you have feelings for me, y/n.” he said slowly. “I have feelings for you too.”

“What?” you gasped. You gaped at him, and he averted his gaze into the pool. “But… Gaby?” The images of the two of them kissing came back to your mind.

“Oh yes, Gaby.” he responded ambiguously, and you gritted your teeth.

“You can’t choose the both of us, Illya.” you managed to get out, and he shook his head.

“I know, and I’m not choosing between the two of you.” he reached for your hand, and this time you decided not to pull away. “I never considered Gaby. You're the only one I think about.”

“But then…” you were confused. “What about just now?”

Rolling his eyes, he looked above him as if expecting someone to be watching.

“It was Cowboy’s idea. And Gaby’s. I thought it was stupid, but I guess Solo’s plans always manage to deliver in the end.” when he saw your still confused expression, he continued. “They both know you have feelings for me, but knew you wouldn’t admit it. So they thought if they made you jealous it would work. And I supposed it did.”

“I’m gonna kill the both of them.” you muttered to yourself, and Illya laughed.

“If you kill both of them, maybe we’ll be able to go undercover as the couple, for once.” he joked, and you laughed.

“Thank you! I thought I was the only one who noticed how I only get paired with Napoleon and you always get paired with Gaby!”

“We’ll be together next time.” Illya said as he put his hand on your cheek and pulled your closer to him. “I’ll make sure of it.”