Surveillance - The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

[Bruyere]

Title: Surveillance

Pairings: None

Rating: G

Word count: 1,200

Warnings: None

Notes: More allergy fic. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Me and TMFU, it's like opposite world.

Summary: Surveillance leads to a spot of bother for Illya.

It’s not Napoleon’s favourite way to spend his time, he still finds surveillance as boring as hell but it’s a lot better now that he’s got Illya as a partner. Not that he’d admit that to Illya, he wouldn’t want him getting a big head over it. They’re out in the open today with the sun on their backs and a gentle breeze off the coast. From their view on the hilltop, hidden in the tall grass, they have a perfect view of the target camp below.

They’re stretched out next to each other which is how Napoleon realises, probably before Illya himself does, that he’s going to sneeze. His body goes unnaturally stiff then he whips his head to the side and sneezes a quiet and crisp, “Kchh!” He sniffs once but doesn’t comment on it so Napoleon doesn’t say anything either. Unlike Napoleon, Illya will occasionally sneeze and it won’t mean anything.

It’s probably why the second sneeze only a moment later catches them both off guard. “Haht-kshhh!”

Illya looks irritated after that one as though he’d only just managed to wrestle it under control and he waits with his head tilted away from Napoleon. He glances at Napoleon then clenches his jaw and resolutely turns his attention back to watching the camp below.

“Bless you.” Illya grunts in acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything more. Napoleon looks him over carefully; Illya only ever sneezes in doubles when he’s sick.

“Pay attention,” says Illya, mock exasperation hiding the fondness in his tone and with a sigh Napoleon looks back at the scene beneath them.

Nothing has been happening down there for hours now. They’ve noted the munitions that are stored in two outbuildings connected to the farm, the number of vehicles and the amount of men. They’re a good two dozen bodies short of being able to lead the assault that UNCLE suspects is coming on the compound in the neighbouring state. It’s another couple of hours until nightfall and providing that no further shipments arrive under the cover of darkness then it’ll be some welcome good news when they radio it in, in the morning.

Through his binoculars Napoleon watches two of the kids on guard duty share a cigarette, a couple of puffs each, till it’s gone. They kick pebbles between them to pass the time. He remembers it well, the aching hours of boredom in between fighting, hanging around waiting for orders to come from some distant officer in another location. For a moment he almost feels sorry for them, a couple of dumb kids in way over their heads.

Illya tenses again next to him and his shoulder bumps against Napoleon’s as he snaps his head to the side again. “Huh-kschh! Kshh! Huh, uhhh, uh…” He pinches his nose firmly shut to try and regain control. His breathing takes a moment to even out and he blinks in confusion, sniffling and shaking his head when he finally releases his nose.

“Bless you,” says Napoleon again. “Coming down with something?”

Illya frowns, shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“The continual sneezing would suggest otherwise.”

Illya doesn’t say anything but he swallows and sniffles as though the irritation hasn’t quite gone.

“There,” he says and nudges Napoleon and points at two jeeps rolling in along the dirt track. “I told you to pay attention.”

Through the binoculars Napoleon can see half a dozen men in one of the vehicles and three in the other which is stacked with munitions crates.

“Damn, I was hoping it was going to stay quiet.”

Illya hums in agreement. “Recognise the man at the… the back?”

Napoleon ignores the waver in Illya’s voice and focuses on the man Illya’s pointing out. “Carlsson. It’s definitely not going to stay quiet now.”

“Heh-kschh! Uhtchxhh!”

“Peril, are you-”

“Huh, uhhhhh… Heh… this is… Tschxhh!” He groans and presses the back of his hand against his nose. He fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket and blows his nose. The tip of his nose is pink and he looks flustered in a way that Napoleon can’t recall seeing before. “Huhh, uhhh, Hehtschxxx!”

“Bless you! Stop trying to hold them back, it’s only making it worse.”

“Heh-kschh! Hehh, hehh….”

“Illya, we’re far enough away. No-one will hear you.”

“Hehkschhuhh! Hah-itschuhh!”

“See? Isn’t that better?”

Illya looks at him helplessly through watery eyes. His voice is thick when he answers. “No.”

Napoleon shrugs. “You’ve stopped sneezing.”

“For the moment.” Illya clenches his jaw.

“You’re not done?”

Illya huffs and turns his attention back to the scene below them. He sounds sheepish when he eventually says, “My nose still itches.”

Napoleon considers this for a moment, takes in their surroundings then gives Illya a rueful grin. “Spent much time with your face buried in long grass before?”

“No, kschh! no, why?”

Napoleon raises an eyebrow, claps a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think it agrees with you.”

Illya shakes his head. “No, I’m not allergic to anything.”

Solo shrugs, there’s a heavy wooded area to the east of the camp as well. If it’s not the grass then it’s something out here.

“Huh-kschh! Tschxhh! Tschxhuhh!”

“Bless you.”

“Hahetchuhh!” Illya blows his nose again and the tiny little sigh he gives afterwards is the only sign that he’s wearying of all of this.

“I could radio it in, ask for them to send another team out?”

Illya looks at him like he’s grown another head.

“You can’t want to stay out here like this?” Napoleon asks.

Illya shrugs. “It is not so bad.” He doesn’t meet Napoleon’s eyes when he speaks. “And now Carlsson’s here we cannot afford to leave.”

“Yes but-”

“Kschh! But nothing. I’ll be fine, it’s just an irritation and it’ll stop when night falls.” The last part is almost a question so Napoleon nods.

“Probably. Are you sure you’ll be okay until then?”

“Huitschuhh!” He blows his nose and nods.

Napoleon squeezes Illya’s shoulder again. “If you’re sure.”

Illya blows his nose again, nods. Their attention is diverted back to the camp as the men start unloading the additional crates of arms from the jeep. Napoleon notes with some disquiet the US Army stamp on the cases they’re carrying. This goes a lot further than just Carlsson then. The report they’ll give back to Gaby won’t be a happy one.

“Ksschuhh! Hehhh… Kschuhh!”

Napoleon doesn’t comment on it and they settle back into their duties as another two vehicles roll up along the track. The rest of the afternoon is punctuated with discussions on munitions and troop numbers and interspersed with further bouts of sneezing from Illya.

Eventually, as night draws in Illya’s sneezing stops. Carlsson has got well over the additional two dozen men that they had calculated he would need. Jeeps have been replaced by trucks of men and trailers filled with arms.

“We should call this in now, we shouldn’t wait any longer,” Illya says.

“Agreed.” They pack up their gear in silence and make their way down to the shoreline where their boat is waiting. The sea air seems to do the trick in finally clearing Illya’s head and his nose doesn’t look as pink as it did.

“Hold on tighter this time Cowboy.”

“I’m not diving in after you again, Peril,” he warns.

They grin as the engine growls into life and they make their way back to their base.

[rodakemopetojoen]

Oh my gosh this is absolutely gorgeous *squeals* XD I love the way they discuss it, that was so cute! Thanks for sharing

[Bruyere]

Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! I always feel super awkward writing characters talking about sneezing so I'm really glad that worked for you.