"That Which We Call A Rose"
Napoleon Solo faced an angst-ridden dilemma when "Secretaries Day" was rolling around again, as it was a similar problem he had to deal with on Valentine's Day day as well. He dreaded both pseudo-holidays equally. If he was away on assignment, the matter was solved,but if he wasn't out of town, it was a big problem and unfortunately one of his own doing.
He had reaped the rewards of the company and help of so many beautiful women that worked at headquarters that he couldn't show favoritism by sending the requisite flowers, candy or taking one of them out for a night on the town. He also couldn't afford that many trinkets and gifts all at once for so many of the ladies in his life.
Locking himself in his office with Illya seemed the only option at the moment, as he hoped his partner might fend off any female who came in search of him.
At the moment, the position of personal secretary to the CEA and his second had been vacated by the bright and lovely Eileen O'Toole, leaving the organization to get married and as she put it, to raise a whole herd of children. She had the tenacity to resist Napoleon's attempts to ask her out over the years and dealt with his well-intentioned flirtations like a trooper.
She found them endearing and dealt with them appropriately, making her responses more akin to Illya's banter. Solo admired her for that.
An unfamiliar male stood waiting beside Eileens desk, holding a sizeable pile of folders when Napoleon arrived, seeking a safe haven at the office he shared with his Russian partner.
"Mr. Solo these are for you." The tall, ginger-haired young man smiled as he handed over the documents. "Mr. Waverly would like these reviewed and signed off by days end."
Napoleon cocked his eyebrows, looking at the amount of documents he now juggled in his arms. "Oh he does?" He replied, clearing his throat, trying to act unperturbed.
"Yes sir, Mr. Kuryakin is already working on his."
"Um, gee. thanks." The pneumatic door opened silently, allowing the senior agent to enter; dumping the pile on his desk in a huff.
"Good Morning." Illya announced, his nose buried in a folder. He looked up, adjusting his tinted reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. He had two neatly organized stacks in front of him on his desk, a larger one to his left and one half the size to his right. " I see you finally have your assignment."
"When are you going to get better looking reading glasses? And what's the deal with these?" He said pointing to the files.
"There is nothing wrong with my glasses, as they are quite serviceable. And these are past reports that we filed to which Mr. Waverly has made annotations and wants us to clarify for him before they are archived in file 40."
Solo dropped into his chair, picking up the first report and looking at it. There were notes scribbled in the margins written in blue...Waverly's recognizable ornate, but legible handwriting.
Unlike Illya who touch-typed his reports, Solo's were handwritten in what Illya referred to as undecipherable chicken scratch, unless the Russian had typed the report for him or Eileen had taken care of it. At the moment Napoleon had to agree, as he was beginning to encounter a few instances of not being able to read his own handwriting.
"This is going to be impossible to do before the end of the day, " he bemoaned. "Say, be a buddy and help me with this. You can read my writing better than anyone...well Eileen could too."
"Sorry, I have my own work to do and as soon as it is completed, I have a dinner date with Ravena from the secretarial pool."
Napoleon stopped himself instantly. "You have a date?" He was surprised, standing there with his mouth hanging open.
"Yes I have a date, does that seem so improbable? I am not a monk you know, even though you seem to think I am at times." Illya smiled sarcastically.
"You do know that it's Secretaries Day? If you take her out, you'll be showing favoritism and the other ladies won't be happy." Napoleon jabbed.
"Unlike you my friend, I have had little to no intimate liaisons with the ladies of headquarters so I do not think there will be any jealousy of sorts. It is simply a date and has nothing to do with this so-called holiday."
"So Ravena, why now?"
She was a recently hired employee and Solo hadn't had the chance to introduce himself to her, though he's seen her, 38-24-36 as he estimated, and was rarely wrong. She had gorgeous black hair and bright hazel eyes, with a hint of gold in them and was definitely kissable beyond her pouting red lips.
"She is from Hungary, speaks Russian and reminds me of home that is all." Illya answered, his facial expression remaining unchanged. "Not to mention she is attractive." He let one of his half-smiles reveal itself.
"You have Russian women that look like that back home? I've only met blondes, and quite a few that seemed like they'd were of questionable gender."
Illya said nothing in reply as a portion of his partners statement was perhaps true, but instead changed the subject. "So what do you think of our new secretary?"
Napoleon looked up from the same folder he'd been staring at for the last few minutes. "New secretary? No I haven't seen her."
"Him."
"What?"
"Napoleon, Mr. Waverly has assigned us a male secretary. That seems to be a new trend developing here at headquarters. There has been a half dozen hired already. I suspect giving you a male secretary is our superiors attempt to increase your productivity when it comes to the completion of your paperwork."
Solo scrunched up his face at that news. "Now how do you know these things, I'm CEA and I wasn't notified!"
"One has only to listen my friend. The secretaries can be quite a good source of information, if you would only converse with them beyond flirtings and pillow talk. But oh yes, you are avoiding them at the moment, correct?" The Russian sniggered
"Go ahead, rub it in." Napoleon sneered back at him. "So what's his name?"
"Scott, Scott Rose."
Without hesitating, Napoleon hit the intercom switch. "Scott could you come in here please?"
"Right away Mr. Solo"
Scott stepped through the door, a notebook and pen in hand. "Any dictation sir?"
Napoleon tried not to laugh, finding the imagery somewhat amusing. A male secretary, hmmm?
He cleared his throat. "No Scott, I need some help sorting these reports. I also need to make sure that you can read my handwriting, as I've been told by someone that it's chicken scratch," he said, flashing a smirk in his partner's direction.
"Sure Mr. Solo, no problem. I understand." Scott picked up the report, reading Napoleon's words aloud not stumbling on any of them.
"Impressive," Illya quipped.
"Great, then let's get started," Napoleon smiled. Together he and Scott went through each folder, the young man deciphering the agent's notes with ease.
Illya signed off on the last of his reports. "Scott, I will drop these off with Miss Rogers, that way you will have more time to work with Mr. Solo. Good night gentlemen, I am off to the Russian Tea Room with my date."
That bugged Napoleon but he wouldn't give his partner the satisfaction of showing it as Illya left with a snicker.
Together the CEA and his secretary ploughed through the paperwork and Napoleon had to admit the young man did a good job.
"Male secretary, who would have thought?"He mused to himself, thinking with a more open mind.
He walked with Scott to Waverly's office, overseeing the files handed over to Lisa Rogers who was seated at her desk; a vase of beautiful dark pink roses on display to one corner.
"Nice flowers," Scott said as he handed her the folders.
"Aren't they?" She smiled broadly."Did you know the color signifies appreciation, gratitude... and says thank you? They're from Mr. Waverly for Secretaries Day."
Napoleon suddenly felt uncomfortable. Scott was secretary to the CEA and he needed to acknowledge that...but not with flowers, that was most certainly not appropriate.
"Scott, since it's Secretaries Day, how about I take you out for drinks?"
"Wow, that really isn't necessary Mr. Solo." Scott said with surprise. "After all, today is only my first day, it's not like I've done much to help you out just yet."
"Scott, you're already helping me more than you know." Napoleon said, thinking of all the ladies in the secretarial pool. "Let's go, 21 club tonight on me."
"Thanks...boss." Scott smiled, having no idea what was really motivating Napoleon's offer.
"No, Thank you Scott." Napoleon cocked his eyebrows, breathing a sigh of relief. He wouldn't tell his new secretary about the Solo reputation with the fairer sex, not just yet, though he was sure the ladies of U.N.C.L.E. would give Scot an earful about his 'date' with the boss on Secretaries Day.
Napoleon chuckled at that...