"Oh, Napoleon, don't you ever feel scared?"

Napoleon Solo smiled at the sultry voice coming from his communicator. It was always fun to talk to Wanda, and he could do with a distraction to get him through what was proving to be a very boring period.

"Yeah," said a second voice, which was as equally seductive. "I know you're used to this sort of thing, but surely the fear gets to you. How do you cope?"

Solo's smile widened. Jenny was as much fun as Wanda.

"Just how many of you are there?" he asked.

"Just me, Jenny, and Margie," Wanda told him. "I hope you don't mind all of us keeping you company for a little while."

"Hi, Napoleon," the joyful voice of Margie greeted him

"I would very much appreciate your company, ladies. Just don't let the Old man catch you." Napoleon replied. "And in answer to your question, of course I get scared. Especially when I'm trapped and there is no way of leaving."

"Is there no way for you to escape," Margie asked, her voice dripping with worry.

Solo was revelling in the concern of the three women. With any luck, he'd get three dates out of their sympathy.

"Not at the moment," he told them. "I cope with it by imagining the dates I would like to have when I am able to get back."

"I'm free whenever you want," Jenny chipped in.

"Me too," replied Margie, sounding slightly put out that Jenny got in first.

"You still owe me a date from when you stood me up last week," Wanda informed him.

"That wasn't my fault," Solo protested. "I got sent to Italy."

"I know," she replied, allowing her voice to become huskier. "Luckily, I'm a forgiving type of woman.

Napoleon's smile, against all physical odds, seemed to get even bigger. He was really looking forward to get back home.

"Say, isn't Illya with you?" Margie asked, suddenly. "He's normally good at getting you out of places."

"Ah, well. You see. . ."

"I was beginning to wonder if was going to be remembered by your harem," came a tired voice from behind him; the Russian accent thickened from sleep.

Napoleon hurriedly covered the end of the communicator and turned to his partner.

"They are not my harem," he hissed. "They just happen to be a group of women who enjoy spending their time with me."

"They seem to be under the impression that you are trapped," Illya commented. "You're only on a stakeout."

"The ladies don't need to know that," Solo replied, forcefully. "I would appreciate it if you would allow the pretence to continue."

Illya seemed to ponder the request for a while.

"What is in it for me?" he finally said.

"If you don't let them know I am not being held captive, I'll buy you dinner the first night we are both free."

"I accept your terms," Illya agreed before settling back down to sleep.

"Are you still there, Napoleon?" Wanda was asking as Solo uncovered the communicator.

"Sorry sweetheart," he apologised. "I had to keep silent for a while, but I am back now."

"Back from where exactly, Mr Solo?"

The shock of hearing Mr Waverly almost caused Napoleon to drop the communicator.

"Erm. . . Nowhere, Sir," he blurted. "I've been here the whole time."

"You are meant to be on a stakeout, Mr Solo," Waverly reminded him. "You can hardly pay attention to that if you are busy chatting to the ladies here."

The channel was closed leaving nothing but silence. After a few seconds, Illya spoke.

"I would like to point out that it was not I who gave you away. You still owe me dinner."