Napoleon finished his conversation and hung up the phone. He could feel his partner's eyes burning into his back and his disapproval washing over him in waves. He turned to face the blond man who was sitting on one of the beds in their hotel room. "What?" he asked innocently.

"I do not understand you, Napoleon! Why, why would you make a date with that creature? Our affair was successful, we are unhurt and you wish to tempt fate?"

Napoleon lit a cigarette, for the moment ignoring the look of disgust on Illya's face. I really need to stop smoking these things, he thought idly as he blew several smoke rings into the air. "It's not tempting fate to celebrate an anniversary, Tovarisch. We're in Bruges! The City of Spies! So is Angelique. I think this was meant to be."

The Russian's brow had furrowed at his partner's words. "Of what anniversary are you speaking?"

"I met Angelique ten years ago this week, right here in Bruges. I told you that story."

Illya's eyebrows shot up behind his bangs. "No, you never have."

"No? Well, let me take a shower and then I'll tell you all about it." Napoleon stepped out of his slacks and hung them with his jacket before heading to the bathroom. He turned the water on, stripped off his underwear and got under the spray. The temperature was perfect and as he began to wash his hair, his mind wandered back to the first time he had come to Bruges, Belgium.

He had just completed his first year as an UNCLE agent and already had a reputation as a loner with a high percentage of successful missions under his belt. Mr. Waverly seemed pleased with him and he had dared to hope that he might be considered for the Chief Enforcement Agent position in a couple of years. He had been sent to Bruges to try to recruit a scientist for UNCLE who had succeeded in developing an improved system for dispersing chemical gases that could easily be weaponized. Mr. Waverly had advised him that THRUSH was also interested in obtaining the scientist and his technology so he should proceed with caution.

He had arrived at the scientist's residence fifteen minutes before his appointment time. Helmut Berger had been the man's name and his home was on the outskirts of Bruges. Berger had answered his door promptly when Napoleon rang the bell and ushered him inside. "Thank you for being punctual, Mr. Solo. Let me fix you a drink and then we can discuss business."

Napoleon had followed the man into what seemed to be the den. A woman was sitting on the couch sipping a martini. She was a platinum blonde with long red lacquered nails that matched her lipstick. A beautiful woman, Napoleon noted, though with a slight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked over at their host expectantly.

"Napoleon Solo, may I present Miss Angelique DeChien, the woman from THRUSH. Miss DeChien, this is Napoleon Solo, the man from UNCLE. What are you drinking, Mr. Solo?"

"Scotch neat. Thank you," he answered as he approached the woman. She stretched out her hand and he took it and pressed it to his lips. "A pleasure," he murmured as he gave her the once – over. He was certain that the suit jacket she wore over her skirt concealed a gun holstered at the small of her back and the slight bulge under her skirt was a belt that more than likely held a stiletto.

"The pleasure is mine," she replied is a silky purr and he noticed that she looked him over and was probably aware that he was armed with two guns. He knew she couldn't know about his explosive buttons and other little "toys" developed by the boys in the lab, but he had to assume that she might be equally armed with similar goodies created in a THRUSH lab.

Mr. Berger handed a glass to Napoleon and indicated he should sit. When he did, Berger also sat and said, "Mr. Solo, I have been listening to Miss DeChien's spiel about why I should throw in with her organization; so tell me, what does UNCLE have to offer me?"

"Ah, well…"

Napoleon smiled as he lathered up and remembered his sales pitch, as it were, for UNCLE and why it was the better choice. Angelique didn't interrupt him, but sat sipping her drink, occasionally stirring it with one talon – like fingernail. He thought at the time that there was no way the man would turn him down and go with THRUSH.

Berger listened intently, asking what Napoleon thought were good questions when he had finished his presentation. When he had answered them all he asked, "So, Mr. Berger, have you decided who you want to work for?"

Berger walked back to his bar, reached into a drawer and withdrew a gun that he pointed at both agents. "I have. I've decided to work for myself. I received an extremely generous offer from a sheik that is far superior to anything either one of you said."

Angelique placed her drink on the coffee table and said calmly, "This is outrageous and quite tedious. What do you intend to do with us? Both of our organizations will be quite, how you say…miffed if we are harmed and you will not escape their wrath."

"Miss DeChien, I doubt that seriously. Both you and Mr. Solo told me that you have been with your respective organizations for a year, more or less. Neither one of you has been an agent long enough to have any real value or at least, not so much that someone will be dispatched to find you. I have a previous engagement to get to so this is what is going to happen: You two are getting locked in my basement. The sheik will be here tomorrow to buy my product. I had been wondering what I could do to demonstrate it for him and now I have the solution. I will gas you and then dispose of your bodies after he leaves, but first, please remove your weapons and place them on the table there."

They had both removed their most obvious weapons and Napoleon hoped that would be sufficient, but Berger wasn't finished. "Remove all your outerwear, please and don't bore me with protestations of modesty. I don't care."

Reluctantly, they began to comply, revealing his second gun. In spite of the situation, Napoleon was pleased with himself that he had been right about the knife strapped to the woman's thigh. Just when he thought he might be able to keep something useful, Berger demanded the removal of his watch, effectively stripping him of all his weapons.

Satisfied, Berger waved his gun towards the door and said, "All right then, through there, go on."

They were marched into the basement and the locks secured behind them. After they were left alone, they both spent time apart and together going over the room meticulously looking for a way to escape. When they finally admitted defeat, they sat huddled together for warmth on a blanket they had found in a cardboard box.

"This is not exactly how I planned to spend my evening," Angelique muttered to herself. Aloud she said, "I had heard you UNCLE agents were masters of the escape. So far, Mr. Solo, I am not impressed."

"I don't see you doing any better, Miss DeChien. I have heard that THRUSH sees value in recruiting females to become agents, but right now, I'm not impressed with you, either. And you may call me Napoleon."

"Napoleon, it is. And you may call me Angelique." She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. "So, this is how my life as an agent ends, held captive in a basement so I can be gassed tomorrow. With you."

"Perhaps not. There's a chance he could make a mistake we can use to our advantage."

Angelique snorted her amusement. "There is also a chance I will sprout wings and fly out of this cellar. For all we know, our tomorrow will never come. If I am to die, there is one thing I want to do before I go."

"And what is that?"

"Make love to a handsome man." She turned and leaned into his body and then put her hands on both sides of his head and leaned in for a kiss. Napoleon was caught off-guard for a moment, but quickly recovered and returned the kiss enthusiastically. She came up for air and breathed, "Are you still unimpressed with me being a female agent?"

He began to undo her brassiere. "I'm beginning to see the advantages."

Their lovemaking was affirmation of life in the face of death; sometimes gentle, sometimes frantic. Napoleon was delighted to discover that Angelique was as skilled in lovemaking as she was beautiful. When it was all over, they laid wrapped up in the blanket lost in their own thoughts. It didn't occur to either one of them to have afterglow – infused conversation. They were technically enemies, after all.

She began to put her underwear back on and Napoleon followed suit. "I guess it wouldn't do to be killed naked," he remarked, "Though I must admit: If this is my last night on earth, you've made it a memorable one."

"Merci, Cherie. I may have one trick left up my sleeve. THRUSH's Number One of Europe is what you might call a good friend of mine. Berger was right; we are not valuable enough as agents to be rescued, but as you can attest, I am valuable enough as a lover. He knows what my assignment is; I have missed several check-ins. I think he will send someone to save me and by extension, you."

"That works out for you, Dear, but what will your rescuers do to me when they find out I am the man from UNCLE?"

"You are new enough to The Game that I doubt anyone knows who you are, Cherie. I will explain you away as someone who was at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And here I thought I was gaining a reputation! Why would you do that for me?"

"Honestly? Because you are one of the most generous lovers I have ever had and for all we know, we may never meet again, but I want to be able to think that you are still out there in the world and our paths may once again cross."

Napoleon came out of the shower and recounted the tale for Illya as he got dressed. "So, as it turned out, her lover did indeed send in the cavalry to save the day and she didn't tell them I was UNCLE."

Illya started getting ready for bed. "What became of Berger, the sheik and the weapon?"

Napoleon began applying Brylcream to his hair. "Her rescuers killed them both and took the technology. Waverly sent Jones and Davenport to get it and they did."

The Russian got into his bed and plumped his pillow. "So. The woman I consider a viper who will one day kill you actually saved your life?"

Napoleon donned his coat. "You never would have met me if it weren't for her and her appreciation for my skills as a lover. I'll see you in the morning, Tovarisch."

An hour later, he was knocking on a door in the Hotel de Orangerie. Angelique answered the door wearing a negligee that left little to the imagination. "Happy anniversary, Cherie."

"Happy anniversary, Angelique."