American Fantasy

павел

"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." – Marilyn Monroe

Illya lead his young cadet through the halls of the British hotel. Pavel hadn't questioned his officer when he was told to pack his things and meet him by the train station within the hour. He didn't ask anything nor did he expect to be told anything.

Pavel was a young man, unlike most men his age he had long hair, going down past his ears. While he was training or on missions he would keep it up in a bun underneath his cap. Now, his hair was loose and in uneven knots underneath his worn cap.

"Теперь вы не должны убивать американца, когда видите его (Now, you must not kill the American when you see him)."

Pavel stopped, "американец (An American)?" Pavel sighed and cracked his neck as he followed Illya up the stairs.

"американец. И его сестра. (An American. And his sister)."

Illya knocked on the door in front of them, "Gaby, I am back."

Gaby opened the door, her hair done up, the room was set up for Pavel. "Pavel, you will be staying here until Cowboy gets back from America."

Pavel looked over at the multiple bags, along with an embellished suitcase, "are those for me?"

"No," Gaby spoke with her hip jutted out, "it is for Napoleon's sister. She did not have time to pack so I picked her up what she would need for our trip. However long it will take." Illya noticed the cold tone, but he assumed it was aimed towards him. Not that he knew what he had done.

"Pavel, this is Gaby, she is-"

"-going to sleep. Unless Napoleon arrives do not disturb me," she turned quickly and slammed the door behind them carrying the bags with her.

Pavel pivots smirking at Illya as he turned. "You did something wrong."

"I am aware but I do not know what it is."

Pavel dropped his bag and kicked it underneath his bed.

"Do I have a mission, commander?" Pavel started to unbutton his vest.

"Yes, I want you to stick with the American's daughter at all times. From what I read up about her she is unskilled in our field of work. Then she died," Illya loosened his tie, "but she lived."

"Strange."

"Indeed," Illya's mind went off outside the room. What had he done to Gaby to make her treat him like this? He hated her like this, she was much more fun to be around when she was happy, annoyed even was better than mad.

"What's her name?"

"Huh?"

"The American girl, what is her name?"

"Adelaide."

"Adelaide," Pavel took off his cap and placed it on the nightstand.

Illya opened the door to the hallway, "I hope you plan on dressing better tomorrow. We're meeting with British Intelligence in the morning."

"It's good to see you too, Kuryakin."