Fic - The Tailor Made Affair

[aneuhaus]

The Tailor Made Affair

I did it! I had no idea why everyone thought it was so difficult. Well, I did have a little help from my henchmen, but my bosses didn’t have to know about that.

There they were, the great Solo and Kuryakin, stretched out on - huh, huh - stretchers, in my lab. Belted down, of course - I’m no fool. I had studied all the reports of their previous captures, and I knew exactly what, and what not, to do.

Looking at them, unconscious and naked, it didn’t seem possible they could be so dangerous.

The, oh, so lethal, Kuryakin looked as though he would blow away in a strong wind, and his face resembled that of a sleeping child. Amazing that he can, apparently, climb, crawl through, balance on, or blow up anything - and ropes can’t hold him if he doesn’t want to be held. From what I could see, the majority of his strength must come from sheer determination.

And, then, there’s the playboy Solo. Even out cold, it was easy to tell that he could have a dozen women swooning over him before he ever opened his eyes. I could see why those megalomaniacs all gave in to the temptation to give him detailed explanations of their projects. Well, he wasn’t going to mesmerize me with his charm and smooth talk. Ha! He wouldn’t have time.

Let’s see, what else: don’t underestimate them; never leave them unsecured; never give in to their requests - give them an inch and they’ll stab you in the back with it; oh, and where most of their captors have gone wrong, don’t separate them. They each seem to be willing to turn themselves inside out to retrieve the other.

I noticed that Solo was waking up. It was time to get started. “So nice of you to join us, Mr. Solo.”

****************

Great; another day, another lab, another THRUSH scientist trying to rule the world.

“Well, uh, I am sorry that I took such a long nap. I assure you that I didn’t fall asleep from boredom, Dr., um…?

“Spangler, Mr. Solo; Heinrich Spangler. Pleased to make your acquaintance. How long do you think it will be before your friend wakes up, so we can get started?”

“Well, you see, Illya enjoys the creature comforts: sleeping, eating, and the like. It could be some time before he opens those baby blues and scowls at you.”

Of course, I knew that my partner was already awake; listening and assessing the situation. He’s sneaky, that way.

“Listen, Dr., uh, Spangler, was it?” He grinned and nodded. “You know, I always like to be familiar with the itinerary in advance; simply so I can plan my day, you understand. Just what is it that I can expect to happen here, if you don’t mind my asking, that is?”

Just then, my partner began to stir, groaning and tossing his head from side to side. I have to admit, he’s very convincing, even if he is a bit of a ham.

“Mr. Kuryakin; good, you’re awake,” Spangler smirked. “That saves me from having to explain twice why I have invited the two of you to join me today.”

**********************

Something niggled at the back of my mind. I decided to ignore it and get on to more important matters.

“You see, Gentlemen, I am on THRUSH’s short list for promotion this year, so I have been working hard to develop something I think they will like very much; and here it is.” I proudly held up a vial of yellow green liquid. “This, my friends, is a brand new creation of mine. You will have the great honor of being the first humans to test it.”

“’What does it do?’ you must be thinking.” Well, I shan’t keep you in suspense any longer.”

“Like many other elixirs I’m certain you have come into contact with, this one causes a great deal of pain. In fact, I do believe that you will find the sensation akin to that of being burned by molten metal. But here is the true brilliance of it: this potion can be tailored so that it works on a single body part or system.”

“For instance, Mr. Kuryakin, it is well known that life holds two great joys for you. The first is the gathering of knowledge. Unfortunately, if I programmed the elixir to work on your brain, you would very soon have none; and that wouldn’t be any fun, would it? Your second great love, of course, is the consumption of food. Therefore, this vial, which is designed especially for you, is made to work specifically on your stomach and digestive system.”

“And I haven’t forgotten you, dear Mr. Solo. Any one who has ever heard your name knows of your reputation as a lady’s man. Without going into graphic detail, let’s just say that this vial, which is yours, will affect your reproductive organs when you become, uh, shall we say, excited?”

“Please understand, Gentlemen, this is merely an experiment; so you will forgive, if the results are other than I have explained.”

My moment of triumph was at hand.

*************************

How the hell do we keep getting into these messes? We were on our way to the deli, down the street from Del Floria’s, for lunch; when I heard Napoleon moan and felt, more than saw, him crumple to the ground. I looked around just in time to see the cudgel swing through the air. The next thing I knew, I was waking up on this stretcher thing, naked and freezing.

I pretended to still be out while I listened to Napoleon talk to our newest mad scientist. Personal interaction is best left to him, as it isn’t exactly my specialty; I’m more the hands on type.

Within the first few minutes, I discovered several things; some good, some not so good. I, like my partner, was bound, hands, feet and torso, to the stretcher by leather bands; and there was no way to get out of that. I wasn’t injured, except for a raging headache I could have well done without.

Best of all, this one was a talker; which meant that he was easily distracted. You would think they would learn not to let Napoleon talk them into getting carried away with braggadocio. It must be in the megalomaniacs’ handbook.

********************

“Mr. Solo, since you are the senior agent, it seems only fitting that we begin with you.” I swabbed the inside of his elbow with alcohol and administered the hypodermic. My technique must be a bit rusty, because he winced when the needle went in. Ha, that’s nothing compared to the pain he will be feeling shortly.

“And now, Mr. Kuryakin, if I may have your arm, please?” I said, merely to be sarcastic. He didn’t have much of a choice, trussed up as he was. Funny - he didn’t react to the needle at all.

“There, now, we simply have to wait about fifteen minutes, give or take, and the experiment can begin. I will leave you gentlemen to stew, so to speak; but, never fear, I shall return shortly.”

I made my exit with as much flair as I could muster; not being one who normally has a reason to do anything with flair.

*************************

“Do you feel anything yet?” Illya asked me, in a stage whisper.

“No,” I replied. “Do you think this stuff really works?” I asked in return.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if yours did, I must say; but I haven’t eaten a bite all day, and my stomach is rumbling!” he grumbled.

“You really know how to garner sympathy, you know that, Partner?” I growled.

“Well, at least we’re still together; that’s something.” Illya’s voice softened and I felt that familiar rush of warmth in my chest.

Much too soon, the door opened and Spangler re-entered the room, but he wasn’t alone.

”Mr. Solo,” he announced, “I have brought you some company. These lovely ladies are Linda and Bonnie, and they are very interested in getting to know you.”

The two bikini-clad beauties ignored my presence altogether and oozed toward Napoleon; who was still laid out, naked, on that stretcher. I really didn’t want to watch what was going to happen next, so I decided to speak up.

“Excuse me, Doctor, but do you think I could be moved to another room? After all, it is only proper that Mr. Solo and the young ladies should have some privacy, don’t you think?”

He seemed to consider for a moment, and then he nodded his head. One of his henchmen unbuckled the straps, while a second kept his weapon trained on me.

“Just a moment, Mr. Kuryakin. Under the circumstances, I don’t see why you should be unclothed.”

He handed me a white cotton robe and I put it on gratefully. I was then escorted into the next room. It surprised me when no precautions were taken to restrain me. The good doctor soon explained.

“I see no reason to tie you down, Mr. Kuryakin, since there are no weapons to hand and the glass is inlaid with iron mesh. Besides, you will have need of your hands very shortly.”

He gave a slight bow, and then left the room. I tried the door, but the dead bolt I had heard him turn with a ‘snick’ was very sturdy; and, unfortunately, the door opened inward, so I couldn’t kick it down. For the moment, there was nothing left to do but wait.

********************

So far, everything was going according to plan. That Kuryakin is a rare fellow. Imagine him having such tender sensibilities as to want privacy for his friend. I admit to being shocked when he asked to be removed from the room. In fact, something about the situation made me a bit uneasy, but he had a valid point. Besides, having his partner in the room could be very distracting for poor Mr. Solo, so my experiment is benefiting as well.

Hector certainly did a good job of finding the right girls for the task; one a compact, voluptuous, raven haired beauty and the other a tall, willowy blonde with legs to her eyeballs. I decided to leave the room to preserve my, uh, dignity.

I didn’t go far, however. I only stepped into the next room to see about Mr. Kuryakin. They were just bringing in the first covered dishes that had been specially prepared for him by the outrageously expensive cordon bleu chef I had hired.

I waited, for what seemed like hours, for Solo’s agonizing screams. They never came. I’m getting a panicky feeling that my serum isn’t working. Well, there’s still Kuryakin.

*********************

I was beginning to feel sorry for Napoleon’s predicament until they rolled in two, three-tiered carts, laden with covered dishes. One of the minions chained the carts to iron rings in the floor, while the other began to remove the covers from the plastic plates and bowls. The aroma, alone, was enough to drive one mad.

There were shrimp cocktail, oysters Rockefeller, fillet of sole with lemon butter and capers, baked sea bass, deep fried scallops, and Manhattan clam chowder; and that was just the fish course. There are many things I can resist, but temptation was never one of them.

I closed my eyes and called upon my UNCLE training.

**********************

I closed my eyes and called upon my UNCLE training.

Thank whatever deity was still paying attention, that I had spent many hours perfecting the technique of taking myself out of my body while being beaten, broken, burned, cut and, yes, even raped, in my line of work. I will readily admit, though, that this was the toughest test of all; these girls were definitely professionals.

The blonde perched beside me on the stretcher and began to kiss any part of me she could reach: my mouth, my chin, my ear, my neck, my chest; and then she began to bite and suck on my nipple. That was nothing, though, compared to what the other girl was doing. She stationed herself beside my knees and leaned over me. The next thing I knew, my balls were in her hand and my penis was in her mouth. She even pushed a lubed finger inside me.

Let me tell you, if anyone ever again says that I am a slave to my body, have I got a story for them!

Finally, as if at some silent signal, both girls halted their ministrations and walked out of the room. It was a good thing, too, because I truly don’t know how much longer I could have held out, even with the threat of excruciating pain hanging over my head. They were beautiful girls, and really knew their stuff.

I have a feeling that, some day, I will find myself wishing I knew how to get in touch with those girls.

************************

For hours, I kept myself in that semi-conscious state UNCLE teaches us, so as not to crack under torture. Even though I had control over my bodily functions, I could see and hear everything clearly. Imagine how surprised I was to not, yet, have heard Napoleon’s screams of anguish. Could it be that I was denying myself for nothing, and that the potion didn’t work at all?

The doubt, and resulting anger, caused me to come back to myself. The delectable aromas of the many and varied gourmet treats, once again, assaulted my nostrils, and I began to salivate like Pavlov’s dog. I thought I had been tortured before, but this was unbearable!

Someone had to get us out of here, and there was no way I could concoct a plan, or carry it out, if I were faint from hunger, now could I? Besides, could one small bite really hurt all that much?

I decided that, if I was going to take the chance, I may as well be selective. Of all the dishes I recognized, the beef Wellington tempted me most; and my friends at Cambridge would have heartily approved. I broke off a small bit and put it in my mouth. I am ashamed to say that it took all my will power to stop at a single bite.

********************

To my delight, the girls told me what happened with Solo, so I now know that my elixir was not at fault. I am, however, beginning to develop a whole new respect for this UNCLE agent. I wonder what it would take to entice him over to our side.

While I was considering the possibility, I heard a howl like that of a dying beast. Clapping my hands in satisfaction, I, once again, went to see about Kuryakin.

**********************

With my tormentors gone, I lay on my stretcher and tried to pull myself together enough to come up with some way to escape. I knew that my partner was somewhere, trying equally hard to concoct a plan, but I had no idea what his situation was.

The first thing I had to do was get these damned belts loose and, then, if I could just find… Chills ran down my spine when I heard what sounded like an animal being ripped apart. I hadn’t prayed in so long that I couldn’t even remember the last time; but, at that moment, I prayed that that bone chilling sound wasn’t coming from my partner.

********************

While I was waiting to find out the effects of that bite of beef Wellington, I decided to use my time constructively. I pulled at the chains on the food trolleys; but the rings in the floor, as well as the ones connecting the chains to the wheels of the trolleys, held fast. There was a bank of white cabinets and drawers along one wall, so I began to search through them, just in case anyone had left something useful in one of them.

By the time I had exhausted all the possibilities, I was beginning to feel a burning sensation just below my diaphragm. Added to the fact that my efforts had turned up nothing but a green rubber band and two paper clips, I was not a very happy man. Well, at least the burning in my stomach was masking the hunger.

Since I had run out of activities to occupy me until someone showed up, I started toward the chair on the other side of the small room; but, before I got there, I doubled over with the most unbearable pain I have ever felt in my life - and, believe me, that’s saying something. I tried to swallow any sounds, but there was no holding back the screams.

I must have blacked out, because I remember waking up, I don’t know how much later; inexplicably, sitting in the chair. That burning sensation was back; but words cannot express my relief at finding that most of the pain was gone.

With my mind clear once again, I began to consider what I knew about my current state. My partner was bound to a stretcher, and would probably be of no use to me, at all, until I found a way to free him. My weapons and communicator had been found and confiscated by our host. There was nothing useful in this room at…wait a minute!

I now chalk it up to being preoccupied with the dilemma of to eat or not to eat, to coin a phrase; but right in front of me was a clean, shiny, and best of all, sharp fork. It wasn’t an UNCLE special or an exploding money clip, but any fork in a storm. I really have to stop hanging around with Napoleon so much.

*************************

When Hector and I reached Kuryakin’s room, we found him passed out on the floor in a fetal position. There was still a grimace of pain on his handsome face. I saw no reason for him to lie on the cold tile, so I had Hector place him, reasonably comfortably, in the chair. There didn’t seem much else to do for, or with, him at the moment, so we left him to recover as best he could. I still couldn’t shake that feeling that, somehow, I had made at least one error, but hell if I could put my finger on it.

I shrugged if off and picked up a plate of rabbit stew to take with me.

**************************

I don’t know how long I lay on that damned stretcher. It had to have been at least six or seven hours by now. It ate me up inside, not knowing what was happening to Illya, or even if he was still alive.

Funny, at times such as this, when most men would be worried about what was happening to them, my concern was always for my partner. Maybe it was because he usually got the worst end of it; or, maybe, there was something there that I needed to take out and look closely at - if I ever got the time.

For the moment, there was nothing left to do but wait.

*************************

Finally, things were starting to go my way. I palmed the precious fork and lay down on the cold tile in front of the chair, arranging myself as though I had fallen out of it. Now, it was simply a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. I solved physics problems in my head to keep from falling asleep, and to try to keep my inordinate concern for my partner at bay.

Spangler must have had a rough idea of how long my suffering would last, because I hadn’t been on the floor for more than a few minutes, when I heard the dead bolt turn. Listening carefully, I detected two sets of footsteps. I desperately wanted to see how many weapons there were, but surprise was my only chance and I couldn’t give that chance away.

I felt one of the people in the room lean over me. He poked me with his foot, but I remained completely still. I needed both of them within arm’s length before I moved, if my plan had any chance of working.

My pulse quickened when I heard another pair of footsteps approach. It was now or never.

I rolled toward the person standing closest to me and, rising to a crouch, aimed the fork at his face. I don’t know if it was luck or instinct, but my hand went straight to his left eye. Blood and viscous fluid spewed everywhere, as the one Spangler had called Hector screamed like a wounded bear and fell to the floor. Good. This one seemed to be Spangler’s right hand man and, with him incapacitated, escape would be much easier.

I had no time to gloat, though, as THRUSHee number two lowered his automatic in my direction. I spun my body quickly and caught him behind the knees with my feet. He went sprawling and hit his head on the, heretofore, useless cabinets, knocking himself unconscious.

I had no time to celebrate my triumph, so I quickly yanked the belt of the robe from around my waist and hog-tied Hector first, since he was still conscious, if only barely. Because I had nothing else, I then removed the robe and used it to tie up “number two”, leaving me naked, once again. Oh, well, I was beginning to get used to it. Besides, to the best of my knowledge, there were only Spangler and Napoleon left in the building; and they had both seen me naked before.

I snatched up Hector’s gun, and went in search of Spangler; but, after searching six out of seven rooms in the facility, there was no sign of him. I decided to try the seventh - the one Napoleon was being held in. My heart leapt into my throat at the idea of what I might find. One could just never tell what these mad scientists may decide to do; particularly when their experiments failed.

Imagine my shock when I found the door to the room unlocked. My surprise dissipated, though, when I discovered Spangler smiling down at Napoleon, still belted to the stretcher and face turned to the opposite wall. I stopped in the doorway in an attempt to assess the situation.

I don’t know if I made a noise, or if it was simply that knowledge Napoleon and I seem to have of each other, but my partner turned his head and looked at me. No - he LOOKED at me, in a way I had only seen him look at beautiful women, and astonishment turned me to stone where I stood. I had never felt more naked in my life.

As I watched, a grimace crossed Napoleon’s face, and he began to moan. Spangler’s eyes grew wide as they traveled down Napoleon’s body and stopped at his crotch. I looked, myself, and, sure enough, his penis was at half mast and rising fast. For some reason, this broke the spell, and I moved to my partner’s side. He was now twisting and writhing in his bonds, his face a mask of agony.

“Napoleon, what is going on?” I spoke softly, not knowing what this bastard may have done to him.

***********************

I sent Hector and Benito to check on Kuryakin while I pondered over Solo’s reaction, or lack thereof, to Linda and Bonnie. What could possibly have gone wrong?

I decided to have a chat with Mr. Solo, so I headed to the room where he was being held.

I looked through the window at him, and he seemed to be asleep. As soon as I opened the door, however, his head jerked up abruptly.

“Where is my partner?” he asked, his anger apparent. This was the first time I had seen him anything but charming since the beginning of our little adventure.

“Fear not, Mr. Solo, he is being treated with the utmost care. Why, he is, even now, being inundated with the finest cuisine money can buy.”

Solo’s face turned absolutely livid but, curiously, his eyes registered more than a little fear. Strange; I hadn’t threatened him in the least, so he must have been afraid on behalf of his partner. Could it be…?

“You know, Mr. Solo, it was very kind of Mr. Kuryakin to want to safeguard your modesty the way he did. Odd that he wasn’t so concerned about his own.”

“What do you mean by that?” Solo ground out.

“Let’s just say that he was, uh, very grateful.” If I had thought Solo angry before, I was extremely mistaken. His face was now a mask of unadulterated rage.

“Hmmm, how can I convince you? I know, allow me to relate the details to you.” He turned his head away from me, but there was little else he could do.

I continued, “I only took him as far as the next room. We were right on the other side of that wall,” with a nod of my head, I indicated the wall he was staring at, “and I asked him what he was willing to do to keep you safe. He smiled the sweetest smile, and replied, in that deep, velvet voice of his, ‘Almost anything’.”

“I told him that the thought of you with those two lovely women had put me in a state that needed to be relieved and, if he would but help me out, I would assure him that he would see you alive and well again. He stood and approached me. I had seen his body - which is quite lovely, don’t you think? - and I wanted to see it again, so I asked him to remove his robe. He did so without hesitation; then he got down on his knees in front of me.”

“He seemed hesitant; almost shy, in fact, so I undid my trousers and pulled out my cock for him. He took it in that big, powerful hand of his, and then licked the very tip, as though it was a lollipop.”

I stopped a moment to catalogue Solo’s reaction. His breathing had become labored and he was writhing a bit, as though in pain. Good.

“He has a very soft tongue, your partner. Any way, he then took as much of me as he could into his mouth and began to suck for all he was worth. It felt so good, I had to lean against the wall to keep from falling to the floor. I looked down at that golden head, just as it began to bob up and down, and saw my dick disappear and reappear in that beautiful mouth; how could I last another second? He swallowed every…”

At that moment, I sensed movement and looked up to see a gloriously naked Kuryakin, standing in the doorway, holding a THRUSH automatic. Solo turned his head to see why I had stopped speaking, and Kuryakin was, evidently, rooted to the spot by what registered on his partner’s face.

Solo began to show signs of obvious discomfort, so I glanced at his genitals. Although I had been suspicious, I was truly stunned when I saw the partial erection he was sporting begin to grow with each second he stared at his partner.

As the pain became more intense with the burgeoning of his cock, he began to cry out and attempt to release himself from his bonds as best he could. Kuryakin abruptly came to life and rushed to his partner’s side. He murmured something so softly that only Solo could hear it.

From what I’ve heard of Kuryakin, he is not a tender man. If that is true, if I had held a mirror up to him at that moment, he would not have recognized the face in it as his own.

************************

I had been lying on that stretcher for God knows how many hours, now, without being able to move. My back hurt, my head ached, my bladder was full, and I was worried sick about Illya. Who knows what that elixir may do to him if he had eaten anything? He couldn’t hold out forever. I mean, a man can live without sex - at least for quite a while - but one has to eat to live.

My pondering was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. It has long been my habit to seem as harmless as possible until I know the situation I am in; so I had closed my eyes, hoping to be thought asleep. When I opened them a slit, and saw that it was Spangler, and he was alone and had no weapons, I decided to try to get some answers.

Where is my partner?” I demanded, in a no nonsense voice, hoping to scare an answer out of the scientist.

“Fear not, Mr. Solo,” he answered, with that smarmy voice of his, “he is being treated with the utmost care. Why, he is, even now, being inundated with the finest cuisine money can buy.”

Even though I had known that was Spangler’s purpose, my anger flared. Had I not been belted down, Spangler would have been nothing but a greasy spot on the floor.

I wasn’t only angry, though; I was scared. No matter what these loonies did to us, it was okay as long as we were together. When they separated us, and I didn’t know what they were doing to Illya, or couldn’t comfort and help him when he was drugged or injured, that’s when the cold dread wrapped itself around my heart and began to squeeze.

But it appeared that Spangler wasn’t done yet. He began to tell me how Illya had given him a blow job in exchange for my life. Would he really do such a thing? I was sickened by the idea and, yet, strangely moved that it could, possibly, be true.

With a leering smile, Spangler began to reveal the details - Illya removing his robe at Spangler’s request, going down on his knees, being too shy to begin the proceedings - and I was mortified to feel my cock begin to stir.

Illya was probably the closest person to me on Earth. I had never been ashamed to admit to myself that I loved him. I had even noticed his strong, graceful body; his hard, perfect ass; and his expressive face, that could make you quake in your boots or want to take him in your arms and kiss him. But, lately, my feelings for him had begun to change---evidently!

Somewhere in the middle of Spangler’s story, I began to feel a strange burning in my cock and balls, almost as if someone had poured alcohol on them. As my cock filled, the burning became more pronounced until it was a definite and intense pain. The last thing I remember before I passed out was Illya, standing beside me and asking me, softly, what was going on.

*********************

I watched Kuryakin as he stalked toward me, the butt of the THRUSH automatic aimed at my head. I spared a moment to wonder if Hector and Benito were still of this world; at the moment, however, my main concern was for my own well being. I expected the worst but, to my amazement, the cold and ruthless killer, I had heard so much about, turned and ran away! He bolted out the door as though his ass was on fire, and I heard bare feet racing in the direction of the room that had been his prison.

I’m not as stupid as people say I look, so I took the opportunity of one UNCLE agent being bound and unconscious, and the other missing in action, to make good my escape. I knew that I had to find a first rate hiding place because, if Kuryakin ever discovered what I had told Solo about him, I was finished if he ever found me.

The day wasn’t a total loss, though. I had discovered that my formula worked on humans, as well as a little secret about Mr. Solo, of which he may not even have been aware. Before I could get out of the building, my triumph was somewhat tempered by the pesky feeling that the impending escape of my prisoners was, somehow, my fault; but I just couldn’t seem to put my finger on where I had gone wrong.

************************

As I watched Napoleon squirm in torment, my first thought was to cave Spangler’s skull in with the butt of one of his own guns; but that thought was soon overtaken by the need to relieve my friend’s suffering. My mind raced furiously to try to figure out how to alleviate his pain. Somewhere in my consciousness, I knew that I should give priority to capturing the madman who had caused this; but I couldn’t be bothered at the moment, knowing the agony my partner was in.

Out of the blue, inspiration hit, and I sprinted back to the room where I had been held. I stepped over the two bound THRUSHees, still securely tied, and grabbed the shrimp cocktail. I separated the outer and inner bowls and poured the ice into my hand; and then ran back to Napoleon and dumped the handful of ice directly onto his genitals.

“Yow,” Napoleon roared, as he suddenly jolted awake. The ice was effective, though. His erection quickly subsided, as his shocked and indignant cock beat a hasty retreat.

“Are you okay, my lo…uh, long lost partner?” he asked, when he could get his breath.

“I’m fine, Napoleon, but it seems that the good doctor has left the party early,” I replied.

“How did that happen?” he rejoined with alarm.

“My partner needed me. I suppose Spangler felt neglected,” I said, with a shrug and a smile.

I unbelted Napoleon from the stretcher and, while he tried to coax some blood back into his extremities, I quietly made the rounds of the lab, once again, to see if I could locate any of our belongings. I was delighted to find our communicators, specials, and clothing in a drawer in Spangler’s office. We dressed hurriedly, not being a hundred per cent certain that Spangler hadn’t called for back up. Napoleon breathed a heavy sigh of relief when we exited that room.

*************************

I was abruptly brought to by a very cold, very wet sensation on and around my balls. My first cognizant thought was that I almost preferred the pain; which had, blissfully, abated.

I looked down to see Illya’s dripping hands, and knew what had happened. I couldn’t imagine where he had managed to find ice but, if it could be done, my partner could do it. There was that warm feeling in my chest again.

“Are you okay, my lo…uh, long lost partner?” What the hell did I almost say? Better yet; why?

I was relieved beyond belief when Illya continued the conversation as though nothing untoward had occurred. He told me he was fine, and that Spangler had disappeared. That knucklehead - he must have been just as angry as I was about what had been happening to us for the last several hours; but, when it came to the choice of stopping my pain or letting Spangler escape, he chose to help me.

“My partner needed me,” was his response, said with a shrug and a smile that made him look like a little kid, explaining to his mother why he was late home from school.

He unbelted me from the stretcher, and found our communicators, specials, and clothes, while I tried to get my body into reasonable working order. As we dressed, he told me that he thought the only THRUSHees around were the two he had tied up in the next room, but we’d better hurry because Spangler may have called for backup. We hurried, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when we exited that room.

Encountering no other guards outside, we felt safe enough to pay attention to our surroundings, and realized that we were only a few miles west of Manhattan. Illya hot wired a jeep that was conveniently parked outside the lab entrance, while I called in to headquarters for a clean up crew and a detail to hunt down Spangler.

I briefed Waverly on where we had been and what had happened; except, in my version, my torment had been brought on by the ministrations of the two girls instead of the thought and sight of my naked partner. He ordered us directly to medical ‘immediately upon your arrival, Mr. Solo’.

*******************

“But I’m starving, Napoleon!” I knew I was whining - and pouting - but I couldn’t help it. I was hungry!

“Illya,” he replied, in that damned, infuriating reasonable voice of his, “we have no idea when, or if, that potion will wear off. Do you really want to go through that misery again for another ten hours, or so?”

”But I have only eaten one bite - ONE - in the last eighteen hours.” I crossed my arms; glad that he was driving so I could focus all my concentration on the scowl I gave him.

“Look,” he retorted, “if you insist on making a guinea pig of yourself, do it after I drop you off so I’m not forced to witness the results. I categorically refuse to stop for take out and risk watching you have seizures, become comatose, or, maybe, worse. I have placed my own life in peril too many times, saving yours, to see you throw it away now because you can’t wait another twenty minutes to get to medical, so they can find out what this shit is and what it can possibly do to us.”

I knew he was right, but I couldn’t help but wallow, just a bit, in my self pity. All he had to do was avoid getting an erection, while I had to starve. I uttered not another word the rest of the way to headquarters; neither did I uncross my arms. If I couldn’t eat, I was determined to enjoy my second favorite pastime; sulking.

*********************

Most of the, all of, forty minutes it took to get back to headquarters in the THRUSH jeep, Illya whined and pouted because I wouldn’t stop for food. I read him the riot act, which finally shut him up. I knew he was hungry, and I truly felt sorry for him; but I’ll be damned if I was going to let him risk his life, or his sanity, or both, if I had any say in the matter. He was far too essential to me to allow the championship sulk he fell into to change my mind.

We finally arrived at Del Floria’s and Illya was out of the jeep before I even got it pulled over to the curb. I didn’t even have time to nod at Del, as I trotted into the changing booth, just as Illya turned the hook.

We entered medical, and were met by Dr. Sanderson. Dr. Gomez was more to my liking; young, charming, and always good for a story about his latest exploits with the nurses. All of the UNCLE doctors were more than competent, however, and Bill Sanderson was no exception; so we placed ourselves in his capable hands.

Illya was his usual sweet and cooperative self with the medical staff, and they were all grousing a bit at each other before our round of urine and blood samples and vital signs were taken. I couldn’t help but agree with him, though, that it seemed to take ‘longer than a Siberian winter’. We were assured that we were in no danger for the present, and told that we would be notified when the test results were available. Our next stop, the inner sanctum.

**********************

As usual, medical was about as much fun as having a tooth pulled. Not only did it take forever for them to stick, poke, inflate, and humiliate us; then they told us we had to wait an indefinite period of time to get the test results - basically, don’t call us, we’ll call you. Besides, the UNCLE medical staff is always rude to me. I cannot imagine why…

********************

I was more relieved than words can express that Solo and Kuryakin had returned. However, I schooled my features into nonchalance as Miss ___________ announced that they were waiting in the outer office, which was her domain. It just wouldn’t do for any of my agents, even my best and favorites, to inkle that I cared for them as more than employees.

The door slid open and Solo sauntered in with Kuryakin, as usual, two steps behind him. I was pleased to see that neither was physically injured, though I could only guess at their psychological trauma.

“It’s nice to have you back with us, Gentlemen,” I began, as casually as I could. “I understand that you took an extra long, and exciting, lunch today. Please be kind enough not to make a habit of it.”

“Believe me, Sir,” surprisingly, it was Kuryakin that spoke first, “if left up to us, there will never be a repeat offense.”

“I understand, Mr. Kuryakin, that eating is something you will be loathed to do for a while.” I teased subtly.

“Yes, Sir; but, unfortunately, my stomach refuses to recall that my last eating experience proved less than pleasant.” He smiled that nearly-there smile that all the ladies twittered about when they thought I wasn’t paying attention.

“I do sympathize with your discomfort, Gentlemen. I suggest that we forego your report and debriefing for the present. Go home and get some well deserved rest.”

Solo had seemed to be in a deep study since he entered the office, but now he spoke. “If I may, Sir, is there any word from the clean up crew or the search team?”

“All I know at this time, Mr. Solo, is that the lab and its contents have been destroyed…”

Solo’s face dropped.

“…and that there is, as of yet, no sign of Dr. Spangler,” I informed him, matter of factly. I then fixed him with my ‘explain yourself’ look.

“You see, Sir, I was rather hoping that Spangler had an antidote somewhere in the lab,” Solo elucidated.

“Thank you for reminding me, Mr. Solo.” I hadn’t really forgotten. It was part of the ‘dotty old man’ pose I chose to perpetuate. “The UNCLE medical team are using the contents of your and Mr. Kuryakin’s blood samples to try and devise their own antidote. There is no conjecture, at this point, as to when, or even if, they will be successful. Let me assure you, Gentlemen, that every avenue available to modern science is being explored.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Solo answered, with that smooth style that indicates he is unhappy with the response, but willing to accept it because he has no choice for the time being.

“Have a restful evening, Gentlemen. You will be notified the moment anything of significance is discovered.” After long years of association, they recognized my dismissal and stood to leave.

“Oh, just a moment.” It never hurts to keep them off kilter just a bit. “I am afraid I must insist that the two of you remain together, until further notice. We still don’t know what effects you may suffer from Spangler’s elixir; and I can’t afford to pull two operatives from the field to monitor each of you separately. Please contact Dr. Sanderson or myself the moment either of you notices anything unusual in the speech, movement, or actions of the other. Thank you, Gentlemen.” I picked up a random file from my desk and opened it; my way of letting them know this was their final dismissal from my office, as well as my mind.

The latter was far from the truth. As soon as the door slid shut behind them, I laid down the folder I had only been pretending to read and dropped my face into my hands. I could never let them know the emotional turmoil I faced every day, knowing the horrors these young men confronted in an attempt to free the innocents of the world from tyranny. On this occasion, Solo and Kuryakin were the innocents. I found myself, on many such occasions, hoping that they managed to find some comfort in their private lives.

****************************

We turned the jeep in to the motor pool to be serviced and logged. It would soon, mysteriously, become registered with the state of New York as, yet, another company vehicle for Del Floria’s.

It took me a few minutes, after we got into the UNCLE cab that awaited us, to convince Illya to go to my place rather than his. It only made sense. Each of our apartments only had one bedroom, but mine had a queen sized bed, which would accommodate us both much better than his double; and I wasn’t about to try sleeping on that couch of his, again. The first, and last, time I did, I could barely move for the better part of two days.

As I closed my front door and reset the alarm, I heard a ferocious growl issue from my partner’s mid section. Poor guy, he must be ravenous.

“I would trade my grandmother for a bowl of kung pao chicken, right about now,” he complained.

“Are you sure?” I sniggered. “I wish that stuff had some other physical effects, so we could tell whether or not it’s still in us.”

“Well,” Illya began, “so far as we know, there are only two ways to tell - I eat or you get an erection.”

The comment caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I looked at Illya. He wasn’t laughing.

“You’re serious!” My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open, and then I began to think about it.

“You know,” I said slowly, “you have a point. I mean, if you eat, it could cause hours of excruciating pain for you; but if I become sexually excited and it does hurt, there’s plenty of ice in the freezer - although that wasn’t exactly a pleasurable experience, either.” I chuckled, in spite of myself.

“Where is your little black book? I will call someone.” Illya offered.

Knowing I was going to need it, I forced every ounce of courage I possessed to the surface. I had come to a fork in the road, and had instantly decided to take the path less traveled.

“The last time such a thing happened, it was because I was looking at you,” I said calmly, in my very best bedroom voice. The fact that I wasn’t immediately lying on the ground with a busted jaw encouraged me to continue. “I’m thinking that we should, maybe, stick with the tried and true.”

Illya’s eyebrows crawled into his bangs. I would have given my right hand to know, at that moment, what was going on in his head. Two hopes sprang to my mind: first, that he wasn’t trying to decide the best way to hurt me without causing permanent injury; and second, that he wasn’t stunned into silence by disgust at my implied suggestion. At long last, a smile lifted the corners of those delectable lips.

“I have always admired your tactical skills, my friend.” He began removing his jacket and shoulder holster, and next, moved to the buttons of his shirt. That done, he reached out his hand to me. I was confused, at first; but held out my own hand, which he used to brace himself so he could remove his shoes and socks. In essence, we were holding hands, even if the reason was a practical one. I felt a keen sense of loss when he was forced to let go in order to unbutton, and strip off, those skin tight black pants he favored, along with his white cotton underpants.

I had been hoping that no one had noticed how preoccupied I had been ever since we left Spangler’s lab. I simply couldn’t rid my brain of the picture of Illya, standing in that doorway, naked and brandishing a THRUSH gun. Unexpectedly, it hit me like a ton of bricks; my best friend and partner loved me. There was no other explanation for the fact that he always refused to give up until he had rescued me from whatever diabolical plot I was involved in; besides the fact that he was standing, naked, in front of me, as opposed to insisting that he call one of my many lady friends to tempt my penis to cooperate with our plan.

“Now what?” he was asking, rather shyly.

I will never know why the next words out of my mouth were, “Do to me what you did to Spangler.”

***********************

I didn’t know what I had done to Spangler. I had stuck a fork into Hector’s eyeball, cracked his crony’s head open on a cabinet, hog tied them both, and left them lying on a cold tile floor; but I couldn’t recall having done anything to Spangler, so I asked…

“What, exactly, is it that I did to Spangler?”

Napoleon’s expression turned to shock. “Bu…but…Spangler told me…”

“…Told you what, Napoleon?” I prompted.

“He told me a story about…about how you…”

“…About how I what?” verbally prodding him to continue.

“About how he promised not to harm me if you would…”

“Napoleon, you really must speak in complete sentences if I am going to understand any of this!” I was getting fed up, and it was evident in my voice. Mercifully, it seemed to restore my partner’s fluency.

“Spangler told me,” he began again, “that you did a special favor for him in return for his guarantee that I wouldn’t be harmed.”

“And what ‘special favor’ was this?” Curiosity was getting the better of me, now.

“He told me, in detail, about you giving him a…”

“NAPOLEON!” I was beginning to count off the many ways I could torture him without leaving marks.

“Okay, okay! He told me that you gave him a blow job.”

He answered so softly, I knew I couldn’t have heard him correctly, so I said, “What?”

“A blow job - he told me this descriptive story about how you gave him a blow job in return for his promise to keep me safe. I didn’t really believe him, at first; but the idea that you would be willing to do that for me, well…”

“Is that why you had a partial erection when I first entered the room, because of Spangler’s story?” I kept my voice neutral so as not to sound accusatory. “Was the idea of me, on my knees, sucking Spangler off, what turned you on?”

Napoleon cocked his head a bit, and then went very still, seeming to listen to an inner voice for a few moments. He then nodded once and smiled forlornly, as if all the pieces of a puzzle had just slid into place to form a very sad picture.

“At first,” he replied, “I thought that was the case; and I felt a bit ashamed of myself. Now I realize that it was the idea that you were willing to debase yourself in a way you would never, otherwise, dream of, in an attempt to ensure that no harm would come to me. It was silly, I know, to have believed the story at all. I suppose I just wanted, so much, to think it was true. I’m sorry.”

I was gob smacked. I lowered my head to avoid looking at the sorrow in Napoleon’s eyes. The very idea of my friend, and partner, being sexually aroused at the thought of my being willing to sacrifice my dignity for his safety, was more than I could comprehend. But, as difficult as that concept was to wrap my head around, it was even more inconceivable that Napoleon didn’t know that I would do, or give, anything to keep him from harm, because I love him. Time and space seemed to shift, as I admitted it to myself for the first time. Now I had to tell - no, show - Napoleon; it was far too late for words.

I lifted my head to look deeply into Napoleon’s eyes, clouded with distress and doubt for which I was partly responsible, and took the few steps that separated us. I put my lips to his ear and whispered, “Tell me what Spangler said I did.”

********************

I couldn’t believe that I standing here, telling Illya about Spangler’s story and how it had affected me. I was truly astonished, though, when I became conscious of the fact that I had been so focused on trying to read my partner’s thoughts by the expressions that flitted across his beautiful face, I had completely forgotten that he was standing before me, as naked as the day he was born.

I was taking in the delicate throat, the strong shoulders, and the deceptively underdeveloped chest, when Illya’s face turned stormy.

“Was the idea of me, on my knees, sucking Spangler off, what turned you on?” he accused harshly.

I knew immediately, by the tone of his voice, that what Spangler had told me was all a lie. I suppose he thought that the pornographic story would cause me to become aroused; and he was right, in a way. I didn’t even understand, at the time, that it was my partner’s willingness to sacrifice his dignity for me that was the real turn on.

I felt like a total heel for having believed that my very proper friend would ever consent to such an agreement, and I forewent all speech and movement in order to deeply ponder whether, or not, I should tell Illya the truth. My decision made, I tried not to let my deep disappointment show, as I attempted to explain myself and to apologize. Illya lowered his head, and frosty fingers eased around my heart as I contemplated the possibility that I had just lost what I had just, very nearly, found.

My mental grieving was interrupted by my partner’s lips against my ear, whispering, “Tell me what Spangler said I did.”

****************

I was already naked, so the first step was complete. At Napoleon’s direction, I knelt in front of him and watched quietly as he released his partially swollen cock. I have been in many unusual positions before, but this had to rank in the top ten most bizarre. In fact, it was so surreal that I felt as though I was outside my body, observing myself, as I proceeded to lick the tip of his penis.

I had no idea what to expect, but the taste wasn’t bad - a bit salty and bitter, but I knew I could get used to it because I very much wanted to. More instruction, and I took as much of the, now fully erect, cock into my mouth as I could, and sucked with all my might. Napoleon is no light weight, as ninety-nine percent of the women at UNCLE, New York, can attest, and my jaws were painfully stretched to the limit to accommodate him; but the needy little sounds he was, obviously, trying to suppress, made me forget everything but giving him pleasure.

Seemingly, I was on my own now; because when I glanced up at Napoleon, his head was thrown back, his eyes were closed, and his mouth was open in a silent “O”. Knowing what I like, I began to bob my head up and down on the, now, saliva slick cock; swirling my tongue around the tip each time I arrived there, and sucking each time I took him in again. He now had his hands full of my hair, and was moaning continuously. I kept going, mainly because I didn’t want those moans to stop.

Just when I was getting into a rhythm, Napoleon removed his hands - along with more than a few strands of my hair, I’m certain - from my head, placed them on my shoulders, and began to push me away. I resisted at first, but he seemed adamant, so I released my prize with a ‘pop, and looked up at him.

His mouth worked ineffectually for a bit before he could actually from words. Finally, he found his voice. “Everything we have ever done that was worth doing,” he murmured hoarsely, “we’ve done together. This should be no different.”

He lifted me to my feet and steered me into his bedroom to stand beside the bed. I reached for the top button of his shirt, but he shook his head.

“I can do it a lot faster, and I’m fairly certain that I can’t wait much longer,” he enlightened me, with a smile that made my already engorged member throb.

True to his word, he was naked in the blink of an eye; his clothes and shoes in an eloquent heap on the floor. Neither of us was willing to be separated long enough for one of us to walk around the bed; so we lay down across it together, facing each other, arms and legs entangled. Napoleon then did something that hadn’t even occurred to me; he kissed me. I have seen him kiss many, many, many women, and those kisses were always skillful, controlled, and dominating; and that’s what I was expecting. To my utter amazement, this kiss was sweet, hesitant, and asking a question I was more than happy to answer, by opening my mouth to allow his tongue to play wetly with mine. We kissed for a very long time, taking and giving control in turn, until it suddenly wasn’t enough.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“I thought you might have the answer to that,” he replied through a smirk. “Whatever feels good, I suppose.”

“I have always considered you to be the expert in that department.” I giggled nervously.

Napoleon’s face grew serious, and then he rolled on top of me. “Let’s try something I once read about in a dirty magazine.”

He then aligned his cock so it was resting beside mine, and began to rock against me. I still don’t know if it was what he was doing, or the fact that it was Napoleon doing it, but it felt so good I actually howled his name. I looked up at my friend, my lover, moaning and bucking on top of me, with his eyes squeezed shut and his face the epitome of ecstasy; and knew, all at once, that I had been waiting for this moment for a very long time, but had been too damned stubborn to admit it to myself.

I allowed Napoleon to set the pace, and he was in no mood to take it slow. He leaned down and sealed our lips again, and now our bodies were connected in two places, so it felt twice as good. Even so, I couldn’t seem to get enough of him. My hands roamed over his back, his shoulders; moving down to cup that luscious ass that I had pretended not to notice for so long, now. Reflexively, I pulled him even closer. His scent, and the heat he exuded, was intoxicating; and, as desperate as I was for release, I never wanted this perfect bliss to end.

My wishes not withstanding, before long, Napoleon stilled above me and gave an indecent groan; and I felt the warmth of his semen bathe my groin and lower belly. The very idea that I was the one who had made that happen, caused me to come a mere second later; harder and more satisfyingly than I could remember ever having done, before, in my life. I wanted to tell Napoleon how I felt but, when I looked over at him, he was, already, sound asleep. The peaceful look on his face, and the smile on his lips, told me that he, probably, already knew.

*********************

I was dreaming that Illya and I were on vacation in London. We had slept late, on satin sheets, in the hotel’s king sized feather bed; made sweet, and immensely, satisfying love; and were now walking to a nearby, and dreadfully romantic, sidewalk café for brunch. Illya was telling me, for the dozenth time, what an amazing lover I am and what a remarkable time he was having; when an ambulance raced by, siren blaring. The odd thing was that the siren didn’t stop.

I felt myself rising through the layers of sleep and, at some point, realized that the perfect fourth tones were coming from my communicator. I came immediately and fully awake, and reached for the bedside table, but no cold metal met my hand. I felt a movement beside me and, with a grin, remembered what had interrupted my usual routine the night before. It took great will power to get up and retrieve my communicator from my trouser pocket.

“Solo, here,” I said, in a wide awake tone, once I got the pen open and pulled the antennae up.

“Mr. Solo,” my master’s voice rumbled, “we have some good news for yourself and Mr. Kuryakin. Would the two of you be kind enough to report to my office as soon as possible?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied. “We’ll be there within the half hour, Sir.”

“Very good, Mr. Solo. Oh, and I hope it wasn’t a hardship on either of you to remain together for the past several hours. I know that, sometimes, the old adage, ‘Familiarity breeds contempt’ can be all too true.” He chuckled at his own cleverness.

“But don’t forget, Sir, that also, ‘Two heads are better than one’.” My voice was smooth and restrained; but, inside, I was laughing like a lunatic. I only wished I’d had the nerve to say what initially popped into my head, which was, ‘Love conquers all’.

“Uh…yes…c-certainly, Mr. Solo. Please report to my office immediately upon your arrival at headquarters.” He was, once again, all business.

“Yes, Sir. Solo, out.” I crawled back onto the bed and straddled the lump, which had become still as a stone. There was nothing showing above the covers but a golden mop and one ear. I bent down and kissed the ear, and a soft, but distinct growl, issued forth; but the lump still didn’t move.

I leaned close to the ear once again, and said quietly, “You can eat now.” The next thing I knew, I was on my back, at the foot of the bed; and a thoroughly disheveled, absolutely adorable looking Illya was sitting where the lump used to be.

“What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously.

“Well, any noises I may have made last night were definitely not from pain, so our systems are free of that nasty potion. That means that you can eat now.”

Before I could scramble off the bed, throw on my robe, and get out the bedroom door, Illya was bent over with his head in the refrigerator. He was still picked-bird naked, so I leaned against the counter and admired the view, until he turned around and placed his hands on his hips. Come to think of it, that view wasn’t bad either.

“There is nothing in your refrigerator,” he accused, “expect a half bottle of catsup, a moldy piece of cheese, and a jar with one olive in it.” He picked up the small jar, opened the lid, and upturned it into his mouth. “I mean an empty olive jar.” One side of his mouth turned up disobediently.

“Wait just a minute, I.K.,” I responded. “Let ole’ Napoleon work his magic”

His eyebrows lifted as I opened the freezer and removed a loaf of bread. I managed to pull two slices loose, which I then slid into the toaster and pushed the handle down. I took the square of cheese out of the refrigerator, removed the plastic wrap, cut the moldy part off with a knife, and cut it into slices. When the toast popped up, I laid the cheese slices on one piece and covered it with the other.

“There,” I said proudly, handing him the finished product, “a Super Solo Sandwich, just for you.”

“But what about you?” he asked.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I soothed, “I’m going to stop on the way to headquarters for a cheese steak.”

It didn’t seem prudent to wait for a response, so I ran to the bathroom and jumped into the shower. I hadn’t been in it long, when I saw a shadow through the shower curtain. I watched, with trepidation, as the shadow moved closer and a hand appeared above the curtain rod. The hand twisted and, too late, I saw that there was a glass full of water in it - cold water, as it turned out. I couldn’t help but squeal when it hit me; and Illya was laughing so hard, he could barely stumble out the bathroom door.

**********************

Napoleon did stop for his cheese steak on the way to headquarters, but he bought me one, as well. Oddly, it felt more intimate than anything we had previously done, feeding him bites of sandwich, onion rings, and sips of cream soda, as he maneuvered the car through the morning rush hour traffic.

After a while, Napoleon seemingly decided that the fingers of the hand I was feeding him with were too greasy; and he took them, one by one, into his mouth, swirling his tongue around each one until he deemed it clean enough. By the time he had finished, I was wondering if I would be able to walk when we reached headquarters.

Wanda was visibly miffed when Napoleon didn’t flirt with her while she pinned on his badge in the UNCLE anteroom. I, on the other hand, was bursting my buttons. Many hopes were dashed that day, as we made our way down the gunmetal corridors. One lovely young lady - Rita, I think, is her name - even ‘hmphed’, and flipped back her auburn hair, upon being ignored.

We would have to talk about this. Napoleon Solo, not flirting with every female in sight, was bound to raise suspicions we didn’t want raised.

For now, though, I was delighted. No verbal declaration could have been more convincing of his intentions where I was concerned.

We went directly to Waverly’s office, as ordered, and Lisa admitted us immediately. I took my usual seat at the round, lazy susan type table; but, instead of leaving a chair or two between us, as was his wont, Napoleon sat right beside me, and rolled his chair close enough so our thighs were pressed together. Yeah, we really needed to have that talk; and soon.

We waited, respectfully, to be acknowledged by our boss, who finally looked up from one of his never ending supply of files.

“Oh, thank you for being so prompt, Gentlemen,” he began, as though he had just become aware of our presence. He likes to masquerade as the near-senile old codger, in order to seem harmless enough that allies and enemies, alike, tend to become too relaxed about his presence. Those who know him well are quite aware that, not only is his mind as sharp as a sword; but has never forgotten a date, name, or face he has ever come in contact with.

“It would seem that I have good news, and better news, for you,” he continued.

“Sir,” I began, as soon as he took a breath, “you mentioned that you had other news?”

“Yes, Mr., uh, Kuryakin. The old devil was very convincing. “The medical team has been working diligently, and has determined that Spangler’s chemical has had sufficient time to exit your systems. In short, Mr. Kuryakin, you may now break your fast and, Mr. Solo, you may, uh, shall we say, carry on as usual.” He looked at each of us, in turn, clearly expecting a powerful reaction. Irritation, confusion, and disappointment crossed his weathered face in rapid succession.

“Please tell everyone in medical that we are eternally grateful for all their hard labor on our behalf,” Napoleon appeased, “but we had figured that out on our own, Sir.” His self satisfied grin pushed the “Old Man” back in his seat; but, to my astonishment, he made no reply except a ‘harrumph’.

He picked up the file once more. Without lifting his eyes from it, he said, “And please be sure to have your report on my desk by eight am, tomorrow,” which was our cue to go about our business, so we stood to leave.

“Oh, and, Gentlemen,” he called to us when we were halfway across the room, “I very nearly forgot. Medical reported one other small bit of information that might interest you. The potion Spangler used on you, though painful, cannot actually be individually formulated. It is merely activated by the abrupt introduction of change to any bodily system. Effectually, the opposite situations could have happened to the two of you.”

It is amazing, how loudly the laughter of two UNCLE agents can ring through metal halls.