Title: The pants once again (first posted in MFU100)
Prompt: 87. pants
The door to a unlit room open and three men walked in flipping on the lights. The leader, Mr. Franks turned to say, “This is our merchandise. You of course can take your pick Mr. Simons.”
The dark hair Anton Simons took his time to look around glancing at each of the females tied to the walls. Most of the young woman held in the room tried to hide from his scrutinize.
David Nicolas the blond with him spoke up. “Do you see the redhead over there, Anton? She’s your type isn’t she?”
“You’re right; I’ll have to take a closer look at her. You wouldn’t want me to buy a pig in a poke would you?” He laughed as he headed toward her.
“I’d be careful Mr. Simons. She hasn't come to terms with her situation yet. We even had to discipline her once.”
“She’s not scarred because of it is she?”
“There are scars but none that we put there. It’s just some welts which will go away in a few days.” Franks hurried to explain as he didn’t want to lose this customer.
“Oh a wild filly, I do love breaking them.”
He said as he slapped her on the butt. He moved away from her after she kicked him in the shin with her dirty feet.
Brushing off his pants that had a stain where her foot had contracted it. “She’s full of kick, isn’t she? These are new my dear, so let’s not ruin them. “
He took her face in his hands turning it and looking her over. The look on her face promised retaliation.
“Anton, perhaps another one would be more appropriate for our needs. How about that blonde in the corner?” David said.
The girl started to cry and pushed herself as close to the wall as possible as the blond headed toward Franks.
Heading back toward the redhead Simon said, “She’s a little young for me more your type than mine. But this filly, I’ll have to take her for a test drive before I can make up my mind Franks, don’t want a lemon.”
As he reached the woman, his hands roamed her body. Without Franks noticing, he placed a knife in her waist band behind her back.
A whistle of a communicator alerted the agents that their backup had arrived and were now entering the building. Franks looked around to determine where the sound had come from when Illya quickly took him out.
Slamming the door against the guards outside, Illya took up a position to protect the young women. Napoleon cut Jo’s ropes throwing her an extra gun. She quickly cut the ropes of the other young women hiding the ambassador’s daughter behind her.
Within ten minutes the operation was secure, and UNCLE agents appeared at the door. Helping the women leaves the building, Napoleon moved beside Jo and Illya.
“Well this went as planned except I wrecked another pair of pants.”
Jo glared at him and without answering moving away quickly.
“I think you went too far this time. She is very angry.” Illya warned him.
“Oh she knew I was just pretending for my role as a man looking to purchase girls to entertain his business associates. Her task was to find the girls by getting herself kidnapped so we could follow her. Our job was to take out this operation. No one was hurt too bad, and we rescued the ambassador’s daughter.”
“I think you will find her very unforgiving.” Rolling his eyes, he was sure his partner hadn’t heard the last of this yet.
Napoleon, Illya, and Mark were having lunch in the cafeteria when an angry Jo marched in after medical had cleared her heading toward their table.
“Danger at two o’clock gov,” Mark saw her first and moved further back in the booth.
“Jo,” Napoleon gave her his most seductive smile. “Glad you’re okay.”
“I want to talk to you now, Solo.” Her voice demanding and barely controlled.
“Well I’m in the middle of lunch. Do you want to join us?”
“Either here or your office, your choice!” Her voice raising loud enough to draw attention from others.
The people around them stopped their conversations watching the two to them.
Figuring she wouldn’t cause too much of a commotion here, he moved over patting the seat next to him.
He heard her counting, один, два, три, четыре. “Fine, we will do this here then! Wild filly, pig in a poke, taking me for a ride first. You are a self-serving jerk Solo.” With that she picked up his bowl of tomato soup pouring it over his head and down the front of him. It dripped down onto his pants, soaking in staining another pair.
Trying to hold in his laughter, Illya said, “I warned you.” Then looking at his pants, “Waverly will never let you claim them on your expense account.”
Watching Jo storm out of the area with Russian profanities following her, Illya said
“When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear. I would say she was very, very angry”
“A Russian saying?” Mark asked.
“I have a better one,” Napoleon said. “A man who has never made a woman angry is a failure in life.”
“Then you Mr. Solo will never be a failure.” Waverly said from behind him. “I will see you in my office in ten minutes. That should give you enough time to change and come up with a good reason why Miss Kuryakin poured soup over you.”
A quick look by Waverly around the cafeteria had the staff suddenly very interested in their meals as Napoleon followed his boss out the door.