Napoleon paced the small space, much to the annoyance of cell mate. They'd had been there for almost four hours and had gone through the same argument more than a dozen times.

"For the love of God, would you sit down?!"

Solo was generally a patient man, but being stuck in a cell with Paul Westcott was making him antsy. Napoleon ignored the demand and carried on pacing.

"We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," he said, restarting the argument.

The pair had first met when Napoleon and his partner, Illya Kuryakin, had been assigned to escort a man they thought could be a Thrush bigwig. They had been told that the Thrush and an U.N.C.L.E. decoy were to be transported, separately, to Washington, but they'd had no idea which one they had. As it had transpired, they had been escorting the decoy, who turned out to be Westcott. This revelation had done nothing to lessen the ill opinion Napoleon had formed about him.

There was no love lost in the other direction either. Westcott was less than impressed by the working methods of U.N.C.L.E.'s supposed top team.

"How you ever managed to become CEA is beyond me," Paul griped. "Waverly really should have chosen someone who sticks to the regulations, follows plans properly, and doesn't endanger innocents."

"Someone like you?"

"No, not like me," Paul replied, with an infuriating grin. "I would be much better in that position."

"Are you naturally obnoxious?" Solo asked, failing to keep the sour expression from his face. "Or did you have to take a night class?"

"At least I don't go through a mission by simply winging it," Westcott pointed out. "It's amazing you haven't got yourself, or Kuryakin killed. He must have to be psychic to be able to know what you're going to do next. Mind you, he's no different."

"I don't 'wing it'," Napoleon countered. "I operate via a fluid strategy. As for Illya, we know how to read each other."

In the corner, unseen by either man, a figure dressed in black was hiding in the shadows. Illya Kuryakin, whose recent injury had necessitated the temporary Solo/Westcott partnership, was smiling to himself with amusement. To anyone who didn't know the two incarcerated men, they could easily be mistaken for being similar people. Both were arrogant, but Napoleon was charming with it. Each man had an ego, but Napoleon's never got out of hand. Also, they both had an eye for the ladies but, Napoleon's appreciation for the female form was perfectly balanced with the respect he had for women. Westcott was much more of a cad.

Illya listened as the argument progressed. Each man was blaming the other for their current situation.

"We wouldn't have been arrested if you hadn't decided we should steal a car," Westcott stated.

"When we escaped from that Thrush facility, we needed to get away as soon as possible," Napoleon contended. "Maybe if you hadn't insisted and driving, and then sticking to the speed limit, we wouldn't have been caught by the police. Without our U.N.C.L.E. I.D.s they were bound to arrest us."

"Maybe if you hadn't altered the plan, which had then got us captured by Thrush, we would not have had our I.D.s taken."

Solo and Westcott had been assigned a relatively simple mission to a known Thrush facility within the city. All they had to do was get in, photograph as many files and records as they could and then get out. Along the way, Napoleon had overheard two operatives discussing the newly confirmed plans to move the whole operation to a new location within the next month. It took a few minutes to get all the information he needed, which meant it took longer for them to head for the exit. It was because of this they had got caught. Luckily, the Thrushies which held them, failed to find the miniature cameras hidden in the heels of their shoes.

Illya grew bored of watching the bickering, and stepped out of the shadows.

"How long have you been there?" Westcott demanded.

Napoleon was also surprised by his partner's sudden appearance, but didn't let it show.

"Illya could conceal himself in a bare room," he told the other man, with a little bit of pride in his voice.

"We contacted Waverly four hours ago," Westcott stated, ignoring Napoleon. "What took so long?"

"From what I understand, he seems to think the confined wait would cause you to get along with one another," Illya explained. "It would seem that this is one of those rare occasions when Mr Waverly is incorrect."

Within a matter of moments, Illya had summoned the custody officer, who came and released the two men. Westcott immediately stormed away.

"Any idea when you will be signed back to field work, Tovarisch?" Napoleon asked, as he Illya followed Westcott. "I can't stand another minute working with that arrogant egotist."

Illya didn't reply. He merely thanked he universe that it hadn't been him who had been stuck with Paul Westcott.