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



Word Count: 123


“If it were possible for a man to die of boredom,” Napoleon said, “I’d be worried about you.”

Illya rolled his head slightly to fix his partner with a one-eyed, hooded glare. If Napoleon expected a more elaborate response, he was to be disappointed.

“You used to enjoy stuff like this,” he went on, raising the field glasses to his eyes.

“I still do…” Illya muttered, letting his eye close again and worming his shoulders more comfortably against the stiff upholstery, “… when I’m allowed.”

“I’ll always wondered when you found the time to sleep,” Napoleon said, dryly, “other than during my debriefings.”

“You should employ visual aids. Much more interesting.”

“Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when the bullets start flying.”


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