Keeping Up Appearances (Man from UNCLE)

[groundcontrol]

Are there any Man from UNCLE fans out there?  God, I love this film (I have never seen the TV show, but I must) I feel like I'm a member of the most obscure fandoms but oh well. My author notes seem to be the same for everything hehe... Oh look, here's my obligatory disclaimer that I don't spell out sneezes but I hope you can imagine those bad boys all the same. And, as per usual, I'm title-challenged and it sucks. Anyhow, hope you lovelies enjoy!!

---

The tinny ringing of the hotel telephone roused Illya from dreams of the meadow he'd seen in a painting at the millionaire's home in Istanbul. For once he hadn't been haunted by his father's capture or minute details of missions gone wrong, and it was with supreme reluctance that his mind dragged itself out of the airy violet-speckled fields of the Austrian highlands. 

"Hello?"

"Peril, is that you?" Naturally, Napoleon was on the other line; he was the only person who would call Illya at this hour in the morning. Scratch that, call Illya, period. "You sound... different."

"It's probably the connection, Cowboy," Illya said. "Your choice of hotel for me does not have hot water, makes sense it does not have good phones either."

"I didn't choose it," Napoleon said, egotistical defensiveness oozing from his every word. "Waverly was the one who wanted us all in separate buildings."

"And somehow you and Gaby end up in five-star hotels and I'm in a hotel where the radiator doesn't work."

"You said your radiator never worked back home in Russia," Napoleon offered weakly. 

Illya tried to rub away the headache he'd went to bed with last night. Damn thing was persistent, and Solo wasn't helping. "Why are you calling me so early?"

"Peril, it's nine-thirty." The slightest hint of worry crept into Napoleon's voice. 

"Add clock to the list of things that don't work here," Illya said, though the alarm clock by his bed read nine-thirty on the dot, now that he bothered to actually look at it. "Anyway, why do you call?"

"Waverly wants us all at one location so he can give us the latest details of our mission, so we need you over here by ten. Gaby's on her way, too."

Naturally the convening point was at Solo's place. Illya heaved a sigh, which to his surprise nearly turned into a cough but thanks to his superior reflexes. "I'll be there."

"Are you sure you're not coming down with something? You sure sound like it."

Illya hung up the phone. If indeed he were coming down with something, Solo and Gaby would be the last to know. Hurriedly he cleaned himself up and threw on his clothes, still slightly damp from his washing them in the sink the night before and he shivered. He checked himself in the grubby mirror; his eyes looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, and ashamedly he found himself envying Gaby's makeup collection. Perhaps he really was sick. The windows, perpetually stuck half-open, allowed the crisp September air to meander in, and suddenly the turtleneck Illya wore didn't seem warm enough. He grabbed a scarf and a jacket. 
Just as he was leaving the room, two sneezes curled him inward on himself. "Horosho," he muttered. Just what he needed; confirmation that the headache and soreness in his throat were part of a bigger picture. In any case, Solo and Gaby would never find out. Not on his life. 

He hailed a taxi from outside the hotel lobby; though he despised the city he loved the promptness of the London cabs. As he slid into the back seat, two more sneezes caught him off guard, and after a moment's digging he found a handkerchief in the pocket of his jacket. The corner sported a minute bloodstain and Illya didn't bother trying to remember when he had last used the thing. 

"The Ritz, please," Illya said, uncomfortably aware of how congested his voice had become. 

In the rearview mirror the driver's beady eyes gave Illya a disdainful once over, muttered something about "seeming a little expensive", and shifted the car into drive. 

The urge to cough welled up in his chest and Illya indulged himself; better to rid himself of the need now than to slip up in front of Gaby or Napoleon. The coughs sounded wetter and sicker than Illya had expected, and he groaned softly at his luck. 

"You feeling all right back there?" the driver grunted through his underbite. 

"Not really," Illya admitted with a sniffle. He hadn't intended to, but it was the truth; what had started out with a headache the night before had somehow deteriorated into this mess in a matter of hours. 

"I got some aspirin up here if you like some," the driver said, reaching into the glove compartment. "Don't worry, I ain't a dealer."

Illya poured tablets from the bottle graciously. Anything that would defuse Gaby's and Napoleon's suspicions. "Thank you."

"'S nothing."

With a few last well-wishes, the driver let Illya out in front of the Ritz, a building so swanky it would have made Lenin's embalmed body shrivel to ashes. He arrived at Napoleon's door, coughed quietly a few times, and then rapped on it. 
Napoleon opened it with a sunny smile. "Nice of you to show up, Peril."

Illya nodded and shuffled inside. Gaby was on the couch, playing with the clasp on her bracelet and twirling her foot in circles. She looked up. 

"Illya, what is that? It's September."

Illya shrugged his shoulders, mentally chiding himself for choosing such a conspicuous outfit. Regretfully he pulled off the scarf and jacket and hung them on the hanger. Don't shiver, whatever you do. "It's cold outside."

"It's sixty degrees," Napoleon chimed in, knitting his brow. "You're Russian."

"Do you feel okay, Illya?" Gaby asked. "You look off-color."

"Yeah," Napoleon said, "and you sound worse than you did on the phone."

Purposefully, Illya chose the chair farthest from the two as possible while remaining in the same foyer and slumped into it. "I'm fine," he snapped. "If I wanted an interrogation I would've stayed with the KGB."

There were a few moments of strained silence between them, but the tension was broken by the ringing of the telephone. Perhaps Illya was imagining it, but the sound was somehow mellower than the one at his hotel and he found himself hating Solo and his opulence even more. 

Solo answered the phone with a prearranged code. “The room service finally came on time today.” He paused for a couple seconds, and then nodded dutifully. “Yes, I can wait to eat.” 

He hung the phone back on the receiver and addressed Gaby and Illya. “Waverly changed his mind and he doesn’t feel it’s safe to be giving directions over the phone. We’re to meet him at the park five streets over in an hour. At least the man’s still got some sense in him.”

“So what’ll we do here for an hour?” Gaby sighed petulantly and slumped down further into the couch; for all the scoldings she gave Napoleon and Illya for acting juvenile, she could be a bit of a child herself sometimes.

A fit of coughing snuck its way past Illya’s guard and by the time he got a handle on himself the damage had already been done. He peered guiltily at Napoleon and Gaby, the latter of whom had straightened up in mild alarm.

Napoleon beamed, though his eyes were soaked with worry. “Looks like we’ll be caring for Peril, huh?”

“I do not need anyone caring for me.” Illya spat the word as though lingering too long upon it would scorch his tongue. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Illya,” Gaby said reproachfully.

“I am fine,” he repeated with what he hoped was enough force to flatten the matter.

At this Napoleon rose and started toward the kitchen. “What are you doing?” Illya called, his voice cracking pitifully and taking his pride down with it.

"I’m making myself some tea,” Napoleon said smugly. “Do you want some? Works wonders for a sick throat."

"Do you want a crack in your skull? I'm not ill."

“Ladies,” Gaby said. “Please, no catfights before our mission.”

Illya sunk into the back of the chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Gaby took up playing with her bracelet again, and Napoleon was busy banging around and making the noisiest cup of tea Illya had ever heard. If he were to be completely honest with himself, Illya wished that he had taken Napoleon up on his offer. It was getting increasingly hard to swallow without wincing. Whatever this mission was, it had better not be a hard one. 

TBC 

**A final note: I know that horosho means "good" in Russian, but I'm not very proficient in the language. Have I used it appropriately in sarcasm or have I just made a fool of myself (probably the latter, knowing me)?

[LeapYearKisses]

Aaaaaaaaaaaah, Man from UNCLE!  I need to rewatch this film!  Maybe it's an obscure fandom, but I'm so pleased to see you're in it.  I am so glad that Ilya is sick, muahahahaha!  

[fraggle]

I love Man From Uncle. You should watch the show too, it's great. This story is really cute, hope there's more to come. 

[groundcontrol]

On July 13, 2016 at 11:32 PM, LeapYearKisses said:

Aaaaaaaaaaaah, Man from UNCLE!  I need to rewatch this film!  Maybe it's an obscure fandom, but I'm so pleased to see you're in it.  I am so glad that Ilya is sick, muahahahaha!  

Thank you for being a faithful reader (and for knowing how to make me smile all the time sheesh)!! And how could Illya not be the one ill?

On July 13, 2016 at 1:21 PM, fraggle said:

I love Man From Uncle. You should watch the show too, it's great. This story is really cute, hope there's more to come. 

You and I seem to have similar interests, my friend. How's that Deutschland 83 fic coming along hahaha? (: Anyway, thanks for giving this one a read and there will hopefully be more to come!

[queenie]

I love Illya fic, and this is already so playful and sweet. I'm looking forward to it!

[VividBubbles!]

This is so cute! I'm definitely a bigger fan of Napoleon than Illya but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate his adorable, in-denial, sick Russian self! I hope to read some more soon!

[RiversD]

Ah, I'm so slow at commenting, but I really enjoyed this! Absence of spelt-out sneezes very much not a problem, especially since you're doing an excellent job of conveying how Illya feels (poor boy...)

I'm also really happy to have another fan of the MFU film on board! I loved that film so dang much... I may have to set my mind to it and actually write the longer piece I keep telling myself I'll finish someday.

Anyway- I like where this is going so far! Enjoying the still-a-little-new team dynamic, and all the very real-feeling details of Illya's hotel room struggles. The slightly damp clothes were a particularly nice touch. Plus, I like that you kept some of the humour from the film.

On 12/07/2016 at 4:53 AM, groundcontrol said:

"You're Russian."

Particularly enjoyed this line, for some reason. Struck the funny-bone from the right angle, as it were.

Thanks for sharing this!

[groundcontrol]

23 hours ago, queenie said:

I love Illya fic, and this is already so playful and sweet. I'm looking forward to it!

Aww that's so wonderful to hear, thank you!!

21 hours ago, VividBubbles! said:

This is so cute! I'm definitely a bigger fan of Napoleon than Illya but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate his adorable, in-denial, sick Russian self! I hope to read some more soon!

With two men like Napoleon and Illya, you really can't make a bad choice  And thank you so much, I hope I don't disappoint. 

[groundcontrol]

5 hours ago, RiversD said:

Ah, I'm so slow at commenting, but I really enjoyed this! Absence of spelt-out sneezes very much not a problem, especially since you're doing an excellent job of conveying how Illya feels (poor boy...)

I'm also really happy to have another fan of the MFU film on board! I loved that film so dang much... I may have to set my mind to it and actually write the longer piece I keep telling myself I'll finish someday.

Anyway- I like where this is going so far! Enjoying the still-a-little-new team dynamic, and all the very real-feeling details of Illya's hotel room struggles. The slightly damp clothes were a particularly nice touch. Plus, I like that you kept some of the humour from the film.

Particularly enjoyed this line, for some reason. Struck the funny-bone from the right angle, as it were.

Thanks for sharing this!

Wowww this is quite the long reply! I'm honored to have received it   Really, I can't express how much your kind words and compliments mean to me, thank you so much!! It's especially great to hear that you feel I've kept some of the film's humor, because that's what I was aspiring to do. I'm glad that I have such kind people as fellow MFU enthusiasts  And not to put pressure on you or anything, but I'd read your full length piece in a heartbeat  

[Bruyere]

On 7/12/2016 at 4:53 AM, groundcontrol said:

Are there any Man from UNCLE fans out there?

*Waves* Hi, yes, me! I feel a tiny bit weird commenting on this fic as I have one lurking in my drafts folder (it has been there for so long now but I'm still occasionally adding bits to it) that is the same premise in the same location that also references Istanbul and has Illya in a scarf I know there are a limited amount of scenarios but I wanted to state that upfront as I might dip in and out if it gets too similar to what I've written.

That out of the way, I very much enjoyed this. I love Illya's voice sounding different when he's sick and Napoleon's enthusiasm for looking after him. And the coded phone call. All of the cold war tropes, please!

[groundcontrol]

On July 24, 2016 at 4:53 PM, Bruyere said:

*Waves* Hi, yes, me! I feel a tiny bit weird commenting on this fic as I have one lurking in my drafts folder (it has been there for so long now but I'm still occasionally adding bits to it) that is the same premise in the same location that also references Istanbul and has Illya in a scarf I know there are a limited amount of scenarios but I wanted to state that upfront as I might dip in and out if it gets too similar to what I've written.

That out of the way, I very much enjoyed this. I love Illya's voice sounding different when he's sick and Napoleon's enthusiasm for looking after him. And the coded phone call. All of the cold war tropes, please!

Hi fellow fan!! Have absolutely no fears about the similarity of what you've written; I suppose great minds think alike, eh? I would absolutely love to read your fic (the world needs more MFU) even if it ends up similar to mine. Unless of course you're uncomfortable, please do write it  Also, I'm so glad you enjoyed my invocation of various tropes  Thanks for reading!!