I have the clothes and I'm at the point. See you soon.
When Illya arrives, Napoleon is true to his word, standing there with a bag full of clothes. Most people would simply pick up whatever clothes were available, but even now Napoleon picked it carefully for stealth and combat more than to impress. Although he really and truly likes when Illya is dressed to the nines. Still, he assumes after this setback his partner would be more comfortable in his own clothing rather than what Napoleon would dress him in.
Napoleon of himself is looking impeccable and dashing in blue to match his eyes and cut in a way to leave some question about whether he plans to fight or fuck his way in and out of this situation. Possibly both. Possibly neither. Dark hair is slicked back and he paints the perfect portrayal of casual elegance as he leans against a wall and waits for his partner.
Apart from the being-naked part, Illya is mostly himself—silent and dour-faced—as he makes his way to the rendezvous point. It was clumsy of him to react by, well, diving out the window, but his options had been decidedly limited, and the bodyguard had yelled and rushed the bed as soon as he'd walked in. It's possible he'd managed to preserve his cover, which would not have been possible if he'd fought back.
That's what he's telling himself as he lingers in a shadow and glares. Solo looks annoyingly put together, but he hasn't had the night that Illya has had. He spares a moment to loathe everything for a few moments before moving silently forward again. It's a well chosen corner, just the two of them, but it isn't so dark that the lines of muscle criss-crossed with scars aren't on display. "Cowboy," he mutters, making a beeline for the bag.
Illya being the honey pot wasn't Napoleon's first choice. It isn't that he doubts Illya's attractiveness, he's aware of that, but rather his temperament is contrary. He stayed in the area, just in case, and now he's glad that he did. He would never say he was concerned for the Peril, because anyone who tried to fight the man was suicidal, but perhaps anxious was the better term. Really, Illya leaping out the window naked instead of fighting was one of the better case scenarios.
Napoleon is not above taking a peek, but that can hardly be a surprise. He appreciates a good view, but his gaze doesn't linger. He might like flirting with disaster, but he is smart enough not to poke an angry giant Russian bear. "Peril," he replies, dryly. After that quick glance he glances away, serving as a look out while Illya gets dressed. "Her bodyguard made the wrong choice. A threesome is always the right call." He is already considering his own approach and line of attack, his mind whirling away. "Although I suppose that is assuming you wouldn't mind batting for both teams." Not everyone has Napoleon's permanent flexibility, he is well aware.
No surprise at all. Illya is used to eyes watching him. At least these eyes are appreciative, not watching and waiting for him to slip and fall. But he still dresses quickly, surprised that everything Solo has brought for him is something he would have chosen for himself, for their role reversal on this mission. He's a shadow himself now as he adjusts the black turtleneck, standing straighter as if encased in armor.
"Do not think threesome was on the table," he says, though he deftly avoids answering that not-quite-a-question. No reason to give Solo that kind of ammunition. It doesn't occur to him that anything short of a straightforward "no" is, in itself, an answer. "Would not have helped the mission anyway. She would not have said anything with someone else there. But she wants to talk, I think. She is unappreciated by her husband, and she has his secrets. Wants to spill them to someone, to feel important."
All of this is delivered with not a trace of sympathy or softness, just intel that Solo could use in their second attempt.
Napoleon lifts an eyebrow at Illya's lack of answer, and he smiles knowingly. Now that is interesting. One more thing to add to the ever growing 'details about Peril' list. He obviously is not above sleeping with anyone, whether for the job or not for the job. "You did a good job, considering your state of undress, so try not to overthink it. Sometimes missions go sideways." The important part was that Illya killed no one to get out of there. He sacrificed his pride with nudity instead of fighting. He was getting better at picking options other than violence.
"No problem." Napoleon's confidence is well earned in this field. Seduction is not always about sex for him; he wins hearts and confidences as easily as he does bodies. "She is important." To them, to the mission. The best lies are predicated on absolute truths. "What is the angle you went for?" Napoleon can learn from what worked before while going at it in his own style. He also doesn't want to hit too many of the same beats, as it didn't end up being successful in the end.
"Personal secretary passed over for promotions," he says, brushing a speck off his shoulder and leaning against the wall, almost invisible in the shadows now. "Frustrated, greedy, in awe of wealth and power. She came on to me, had to adjust it to keep her interested."
Illya's job isn't to come up with cover stories on the fly, but in this instance the mark had made a beeline for him, making it pretty clear she'd intended to drag him off no matter who he was. Luckily their research had given him an idea of what kind of man she liked, besides tall, and he'd done his best.
"But in the end, she was not so interested in listening to me talk," he adds with a shrug, and if there's a little smile there, it's dark. Hard to see that. "Think it will not be difficult for you."
Napoleon smiles at him; it is fairly perceptive and he ran with it well, but he is ultimately not surprise it didn't work for long. "Appealing to her ego was a good start, but no, in my experience, women would prefer to do the talking given the chance." It isn't a criticism. Everyone likes to talk about themselves, except perhaps for grumpy Russian spies. "It may be because they're talked over all day long." One of the easiest ways to seduce a woman, which he did often, was to be a good listener as well as handsome and charming.
"She's interested in the bodyguard which means she likes her men subordinate but still aggressive." Especially if her reaction to him chasing a man out of her apartment was to make up instead of freeze him out. He winks to Illya and adjusts his tie, already preparing in his mind the new approach to go for. She preferred Illya's tall and cold attractiveness at first glance, so it was something to take into account.
His mind is calculating but he gives his partner a sidelong amused glance. "I'm truly disappointed I didn't get to witness your escape."
It's true that of the two of them, Solo is by far the superior study of human nature. That Illya had managed as long as he had probably speaks to how often he's watched Solo do exactly what he's doing now.
"Tsch," he mutters, resisting an urge to fold his arms. "You saw enough. Where do you want me for this?" He's not necessarily compromised, but surveillance and backup might be less risky. Still, if the bodyguard gets curious again, Illya wouldn't mind being a distraction. Especially if it involved knocking him out and dragging him into a dark corner somewhere to sleep it off.
"Not enough for me," Napoleon teases. He really can't help himself. Flirting with disaster is his favorite hobby, and his stoic partner is particularly entertaining to play against. He has yet to fully push those boundaries outside of a sassy comment, but he may decide to be more suicidal some day. For now, it's all for fun.
"I'm going to need you to handle the bodyguard. We can't have another interruption, I doubt we'll get a third chance at this." She may be hungry for attention, but everyone gets their fill eventually. Napoleon is at his best when he trusts he doesn't have to look over his shoulder, and that's why he has a giant Russian to smolder at his back. There was a long time that Napoleon worked alone, and he thought he preferred it, but recent experience changed his mind. Now if he goes missing there's at least a partial chance someone will be paying attention, and it's oddly comforting.
Napoleon glances over at Illya. He only mildly considers teasing him again, but now he's onto business. "Leave him alone unless it looks like he'll come make trouble. We don't want to raise suspicions too high." Meaning don't kill him. That would be the last resort, although it was always a resort of some kind.
There are advantages and disadvantages to someone always paying attention, but now Solo is stuck with him, he may as well take advantage. If Solo goes missing, Illya will come after him.
Illya nods, glancing in the direction of the front of the building. "Will stake him out after this," he says. "No interruptions. You will have free rein to see what she will give up to you." Dry, as though Illya doesn't know their target is bursting to tell her secrets and be important in the eyes of a man. Not to mention possibly add to her stable.
"Too bad we cannot ask bodyguard questions," he adds as he pushes off the wall and starts off. "Could have useful intel. But I think he would be too distracted too. Shouldn't break cover."
Not to mention it will be far messier to leave the bodyguard alive after they've interrogated him. He might be able to ID Illya already, but he really would if they snatched him up for a private question-and-answer session.
Napoleon knew the moment that his preference shifted was when he was being tortured, and he saw Illya walking in quietly like an angel of death. He'd never known that much surprise and relief at once. He had no hope of rescue, and while he had every intention of dying before talking, it really wasn't how he wanted to go. There was no way to communicate at the time, how much he appreciated it, but then he found the watch and that symbolically seemed like enough. It was probably inevitable he'd see the giant Russian coming to the rescue again sooner or later. Napoleon does have a tendency to take more risks.
Napoleon shrugs but he does agree, if they could question the bodyguard without risking cover it might be worth it. But then again. "Maybe, but he seems more interested in her than in anything else. Letting her make it up to him indicates he cares more about the sex than the reality." He walks with Illya in that direction, but pauses when they pass a window, just so he can get a good look at his reflection and make certain everything is in place. He knows how to look perfect, but well, why not admire perfection while he can.
"Love is very foolish that way. It's also likely anything he'd tell us would be painted in feelings, poor bastard." The way Napoleon says it though gives a little away, as he knows enough about love to comment on it. "My guess is eventually he'll end up going after her husband or another lover to a fatal result." These things happen. He is satisfied with his appearance and glances over at Illya. "I've jumped out of a few windows in my time too."
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When Illya arrives, Napoleon is true to his word, standing there with a bag full of clothes. Most people would simply pick up whatever clothes were available, but even now Napoleon picked it carefully for stealth and combat more than to impress. Although he really and truly likes when Illya is dressed to the nines. Still, he assumes after this setback his partner would be more comfortable in his own clothing rather than what Napoleon would dress him in.
Napoleon of himself is looking impeccable and dashing in blue to match his eyes and cut in a way to leave some question about whether he plans to fight or fuck his way in and out of this situation. Possibly both. Possibly neither. Dark hair is slicked back and he paints the perfect portrayal of casual elegance as he leans against a wall and waits for his partner.
no subject
That's what he's telling himself as he lingers in a shadow and glares. Solo looks annoyingly put together, but he hasn't had the night that Illya has had. He spares a moment to loathe everything for a few moments before moving silently forward again. It's a well chosen corner, just the two of them, but it isn't so dark that the lines of muscle criss-crossed with scars aren't on display. "Cowboy," he mutters, making a beeline for the bag.
no subject
Napoleon is not above taking a peek, but that can hardly be a surprise. He appreciates a good view, but his gaze doesn't linger. He might like flirting with disaster, but he is smart enough not to poke an angry giant Russian bear. "Peril," he replies,
dryly. After that quick glance he glances away, serving as a look out while Illya gets dressed. "Her bodyguard made the wrong choice. A threesome is always the right call." He is already considering his own approach and line of attack, his mind whirling away. "Although I suppose that is assuming you wouldn't mind batting for both teams." Not everyone has Napoleon's permanent flexibility, he is well aware.
no subject
"Do not think threesome was on the table," he says, though he deftly avoids answering that not-quite-a-question. No reason to give Solo that kind of ammunition. It doesn't occur to him that anything short of a straightforward "no" is, in itself, an answer. "Would not have helped the mission anyway. She would not have said anything with someone else there. But she wants to talk, I think. She is unappreciated by her husband, and she has his secrets. Wants to spill them to someone, to feel important."
All of this is delivered with not a trace of sympathy or softness, just intel that Solo could use in their second attempt.
no subject
"No problem." Napoleon's confidence is well earned in this field. Seduction is not always about sex for him; he wins hearts and confidences as easily as he does bodies. "She is important." To them, to the mission. The best lies are predicated on absolute truths. "What is the angle you went for?" Napoleon can learn from what worked before while going at it in his own style. He also doesn't want to hit too many of the same beats, as it didn't end up being successful in the end.
no subject
Illya's job isn't to come up with cover stories on the fly, but in this instance the mark had made a beeline for him, making it pretty clear she'd intended to drag him off no matter who he was. Luckily their research had given him an idea of what kind of man she liked, besides tall, and he'd done his best.
"But in the end, she was not so interested in listening to me talk," he adds with a shrug, and if there's a little smile there, it's dark. Hard to see that. "Think it will not be difficult for you."
no subject
"She's interested in the bodyguard which means she likes her men subordinate but still aggressive." Especially if her reaction to him chasing a man out of her apartment was to make up instead of freeze him out. He winks to Illya and adjusts his tie, already preparing in his mind the new approach to go for. She preferred Illya's tall and cold attractiveness at first glance, so it was something to take into account.
His mind is calculating but he gives his partner a sidelong amused glance. "I'm truly disappointed I didn't get to witness your escape."
no subject
"Tsch," he mutters, resisting an urge to fold his arms. "You saw enough. Where do you want me for this?" He's not necessarily compromised, but surveillance and backup might be less risky. Still, if the bodyguard gets curious again, Illya wouldn't mind being a distraction. Especially if it involved knocking him out and dragging him into a dark corner somewhere to sleep it off.
no subject
"I'm going to need you to handle the bodyguard. We can't have another interruption, I doubt we'll get a third chance at this." She may be hungry for attention, but everyone gets their fill eventually. Napoleon is at his best when he trusts he doesn't have to look over his shoulder, and that's why he has a giant Russian to smolder at his back. There was a long time that Napoleon worked alone, and he thought he preferred it, but recent experience changed his mind. Now if he goes missing there's at least a partial chance someone will be paying attention, and it's oddly comforting.
Napoleon glances over at Illya. He only mildly considers teasing him again, but now he's onto business. "Leave him alone unless it looks like he'll come make trouble. We don't want to raise suspicions too high." Meaning don't kill him. That would be the last resort, although it was always a resort of some kind.
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Illya nods, glancing in the direction of the front of the building. "Will stake him out after this," he says. "No interruptions. You will have free rein to see what she will give up to you." Dry, as though Illya doesn't know their target is bursting to tell her secrets and be important in the eyes of a man. Not to mention possibly add to her stable.
"Too bad we cannot ask bodyguard questions," he adds as he pushes off the wall and starts off. "Could have useful intel. But I think he would be too distracted too. Shouldn't break cover."
Not to mention it will be far messier to leave the bodyguard alive after they've interrogated him. He might be able to ID Illya already, but he really would if they snatched him up for a private question-and-answer session.
no subject
Napoleon knew the moment that his preference shifted was when he was being tortured, and he saw Illya walking in quietly like an angel of death. He'd never known that much surprise and relief at once. He had no hope of rescue, and while he had every intention of dying before talking, it really wasn't how he wanted to go. There was no way to communicate at the time, how much he appreciated it, but then he found the watch and that symbolically seemed like enough. It was probably inevitable he'd see the giant Russian coming to the rescue again sooner or later. Napoleon does have a tendency to take more risks.
Napoleon shrugs but he does agree, if they could question the bodyguard without risking cover it might be worth it. But then again. "Maybe, but he seems more interested in her than in anything else. Letting her make it up to him indicates he cares more about the sex than the reality." He walks with Illya in that direction, but pauses when they pass a window, just so he can get a good look at his reflection and make certain everything is in place. He knows how to look perfect, but well, why not admire perfection while he can.
"Love is very foolish that way. It's also likely anything he'd tell us would be painted in feelings, poor bastard." The way Napoleon says it though gives a little away, as he knows enough about love to comment on it. "My guess is eventually he'll end up going after her husband or another lover to a fatal result." These things happen. He is satisfied with his appearance and glances over at Illya. "I've jumped out of a few windows in my time too."