The Spies Who "Loved" Me

Chapter 2

Illya sat in a dark corner next to the bar. The maître d tried to give him a seat in the middle of the room but he silently declined and pointed to the spot in the back. From his nook, he could watch everyone in the bar and assess their motives while he sipped his vodka. Only on his second glass, he hated that he felt more relaxed now that alcohol had minor control over his body. "Weakness", he thought. Needing a substance to relax, that by default made his reflexes and perceptions lax, was not good. But not lax enough not to guess that Cowboy was walking towards the bar. A group of women across the room whispered and giggled as they looked over their shoulder, only Solo and his ridiculous suits inspired that much commotion from women. He purposely avoided the man's gaze until he pulled out a chair across from him and sat down. "What do you want?" Illya murmured.

"I think the better question is what do you want?" Solo returned. Illya remained quiet and so they sat in silence for a few moments more."You've upset your fiancée being away so long." Solo began. "Now I think the only way to remedy this situation is to take her out for a nice dinner, somewhere you'll be seen that is. You can laugh, gaze at each other from across the table, and place sweet little kisses on her hand." Illya looked back up at Solo with narrowed eyes.

"I don't gaze," he said whispered. Solo shook his head side to side, evaluating what Illya said.

"And we both know that's not true," he concluded with a smile. Illya was about to demand Solo's silence when a figure moved into the room, capturing his attention. The petite figure stood and swiveled their head on a perfectly elegant neck until they spotted him. Gaby. Illya felt sweat break out on his head as he looked at what she wore. He didn't recognize the dress, he didn't pick it out – he wouldn't have picked it out. But she looked beautiful nonetheless.

"I guess Ms. Teller has decided to join us." Solo hummed across from him. Illya glanced at the American, his face void of expression. "You only get that look when Gaby enters a room." he explained as Gaby walked up to them. Solo turned to look at their fellow agent and gave a nod of approval, looking her up and down. Illya felt his hands squeeze his glass as Solo complimented her and asked her to turn around so they could see all of her.

"A very fine choice of dress, Gaby. You've really outdone yourself," he murmured with an appreciative smile.

"Thank you, Napoleon. Too bad my intended doesn't have anything to say. It doesn't bode well for our life together if I can't impress him even before we're married." Gaby glared at Illya

"So you want to impress me," Illya smirked over his drink. His eyes flashed as he saw the frustration register on Gaby's face.

"I didn't say that, " she ground out.

"I think you did," he replies. "Don't worry though. I let you know when you succeed." Gaby's face blanched as she registered his hit. After a moment she regained her composure and turned to address Solo.

"Well, Napolean" she began, "Since you're the only one impressed, how about I show only you what's under it." Illya felt his heart drop into his stomach as Gaby looked at Solo, giving him a seductive smile. His palms began to itch as he watched Gaby lean down and drag her mouth across his, sex oozing off her skin.

"What are you doing" he growled, dangerously.

"I'm offering myself to Napolean. It's been a while and a girl's got needs." she returned without bothering to look at him. "I know you want me." she purred in Solo's ear. Illya watched as Solo looked at her, starving. The man's eyes left Gaby to look at him and then back at Gaby.

"Don't look at him. You don't need his permission" Gaby said. "I sleep in the same room as him nearly every mission and he never touches me." she finished bitterly. Illya felt his breath catch in his throat as he thought back to the numerous times he and Gaby shared a room for the sake of a mission. He thought about the many times Gaby came out of the bathroom in a robe or towel, beads of water running down her neck and legs. He took longer showers those days. "Do you want me to beg you, Napolean?" she continued, a tune louder, making sure Illya heard. "Do you want me to beg you, right here in this bar, to fuck me?" Illya watched as shock and interest registered on Solo's face.