Late Lunch

Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin

Category:
gen

Rating:
G

Word Count: 542

Summary: A lunch conversation goes awry.

Notes: UnThemed #4 Table Prompt – “Chef”

 

 

 

“You have a disgusting little mind.”

“You just have a little mind.”

“Why does this matter, can’t we agree to disagree?”

The discussion at the table was raising in volume as the blood pressures of the participants increased.  The three women at the table had previously been calmly discussing English poets when an innocent comment from one had set the other two off.  Now it was about to come to blows.

The chef of the day, Eli Carter, was just rounding the counter to threaten them with calling security if they didn’t settle themselves when a pair of Section Two agents entered the canteen.

“Oh, Mr. Solo, am I glad to see you.  Would you be kind enough to help me sort the cat fight that is about to erupt?”

Napoleon raised a brow and then looked over his shoulder at his partner.  Illya shrugged, nodding at the unspoken question that he’d have his partner’s back in a fight.

The raised voices were a shout now, thankfully in the middle of the afternoon the canteen was virtually deserted.

Napoleon took the lead, followed by Illya and the worried chef.

“Good afternoon, ladies.  What seems to be the disagreement?  You have Chef here worried about bloodshed.”

The two who had been shouting stopped cold at Napoleon’s smooth question, one wide eyed and flushed the other with a look of scorn.  Neither spoke.  Finally the third, a timid girl fairly new to U.N.C.L.E., spoke up. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” she looked to the other man, “Chef.  I asked a question and there was some disagreement about the answer and I am very sorry.”

“Cecily, right?” 

“Yes, sir.”

Napoleon had to hand it to her, she was obviously shy and yet met his eyes without flinching, which was more than the other two would do.

“Are we going to have to call security to put Chef’s mind at ease or are you ladies going to behave?”

The other two mumbled apologies to the chef and turned heel and left, pointedly going in opposite directions from one another.

“Thank you, gentlemen, it’s not often that I need help in my own canteen.” 

“Not to worry Eli, we’re always happy to assist.”

“Of course you are, Illya, he is the one who provides the food.”

Illya shrugged and Eli laughed.

Napoleon turned to the girl, still standing and watching.  “Would you like to join us for lunch? I would love to know what caused such a fuss.”

“All I wanted to know was if they thought the homoerotic overtones in the writing of Lord Byron were as much a turn on as I did.”

Illya grinned and Napoleon tried not to catch his partner’s eye, knowing he would burst out laughing.

“I guess they didn’t agree.”

“Oh, Kara did, but Murielle thought the whole thing was sick.  She is a little repressed, I think.”  Cecily put her hand to her mouth, eyes wide.  “I mean… um.  Sorry, I… um, should think before I speak,“ she sighed.  “Obviously.”

“Oh, you come sit right down with us and we’ll discuss all the English poetry you want, my sweet.”  Napoleon gave her a wide smile, Illya just dug in to the tray of lunch that the chef delivered to the table himself.