Mr. & Mrs. Solo

Sweet Memory

It was ironic, really, the amount of times he scaled the roof of his mouth on hot coffee while lost in deep thought. After all, an agent with status such as him should be aware of their surroundings at all time--even in the form of coffee. He wasn't too exceptionally mad at himself for burning his mouth, however. Not when the view was as exceptionally exquisite as it was now.

They were tucked in the coast of Nerja, Spain during the tourist season which meant ample opportunities for cover. Illya and he had gone under as property owners with an extensive collection up for grabs. Napoleon would have been interested in the collection if it was actually real. The prospective buyer was Logan Haslen, an American enjoying retirement in Spain and making an extensive record for himself through drug trafficking. Like most drug tycoons, the job came with... Unexpected difficulties.

It was Sunday morning, and Napoleon Solo is nothing if not bleary-eyed, a little hungover, and remarkably pleased with himself.

The sun was far above the horizon on a day that he had no responsibilities on, unless lounging around in posh cottage while sunlight spills in from bay windows, drinking whiskey and tanning on sand beaches surrounded by the lapping of the ocean and coo of gulls counted as a responsibility.

His eyes shifted towards the bed where a bronzed beauty lay, rolling over onto her back and stretching out slightly. Finger tracing the rim of the cup as he watched her, a small smile crossed his lips. Waking up in a house all your own with the sun shining in was better than waking up in a cell in Serbia, yet waking up flush to a half naked woman topped all. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

Rubbing her eye with the back of her palm, Noah smiled sleepily. Her skin glowed with sex, bruised from the mission and sporting a bite mark on her hip. A flicker of pain crossed over her waking face as she moved her leg under the tousled sheets. "Hi." She greeted with the smile still on her face, voice thick with sleep. Stretching her one arm above her head, she relaxed back onto the pillow. "What time is it? I feel like I've slept ages."

"You have." Napoleon responded curtly, walking to the small kitchen and pouring the waking woman her own mug of coffee, adding a dash of milk. "It's nearly one in the afternoon. Rather late for you." Noah tended to rise early in the mornings, far before he did, to find something for her clever fingers to work on. Illya had once joked that Gaby was a hangman's rope in human form, and Napoleon had agreed that she was the loveliest he'd ever had the pleasure of being wrapped around. They'd struggled to find something to compare Noah to, the two of them having gained the hobby of idle chatter during a night-long stakeout. She was too kind of be a noose, even though her hands were stained almost black with blood, just like theirs.

They were driving down the road when he'd figured it out.

After a mission gone south, Napoleon and Noah had escaped bullet-free in all counts except the getaway car, driving along through the night while they patched minor cuts and bruises. Noah had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, his torn jacket tucked around her for a blanket. The engine began to rattle and the car began to slow, and with a curse from him she awoke. "What's the problem?" She asked blearily, blinking away sleep. "Why are we stopped?"

Napoleon was already halfway out of the car when she spoke, closing the door behind him. "I'm not sure. Go back to sleep, I'll have it fixed in a minute." He said gently, opening the hood of the car to check the engine. Noah was standing next to him in seconds, leaning over to check and claiming that 'she was the technician, she should be the one to check it out.' Napoleon just rolled his eyes and stepped aside, though he wouldn't admit to letting his eyes roam her figure a few more seconds than he should have.

Feeling along the inside, Noah was quiet as she checked it out. She'd already explained that being the only two female technicians in U.N.C.L.E., they'd been exchanging skills. Leaning up, she sighed. "The battery is dead. It was running when we hopped it, and God only knows how long we've been driving to get back to a safehouse." Napoleon glanced around, seeing nothing but road and trees to surround it. Not much of a marker to where they were.