April Dancer was apprehensive, well maybe just a teensy weensy bit as this was the first Section II briefing she'd be attending this morning. She felt confident enough but the fact that she would be meeting most of her so-called peers was exciting, but it was a nervous excitement.
She was a female, no arguing that fact, and her presence in this men's world would be breaking down some barriers but would possibly be raising some as well. There would be those who'd be doing their best to try to keep themselves fully entrenched in the world of testosterone; looking upon women as their playthings and not their equals.
To April, their acceptance really didn't matter, as she was there to do a job and not to make friends, but still it would be nice if they weren't disagreeable to her presence.
The briefing, traditionally hosted by the CEA, made her thankful she'd already been introduced to Napoleon Solo and his partner the Russian, Illya Kuryakin. At least there'd be two friendly faces in the room she'd know besides her partner's.
Dancer smiled, thinking of Mark Slate. He was like a cock of the walk when it came to his bragging rights to having been partnered with the first female Section II agent in the entire command; she didn't mind it a bit, as the Brit really was a darling. She absolutely adored hid personality along with his Carnaby Street style as it fell right in line with her current tastes.
April had taken note of Solo's reaction to her that day when she was introduced to him in the commissary; not a negative one but more in keeping with his reputation as a well-known ladies man among the women at headquarters.
She simply let it slide as he gave her the once over, taking her in with his gorgeous eyes, but the red-head let him know his reputation preceded him as he offered to take her on a tour of headquarters, and help her learn to navigate being a new agent. that was over dinner and drinks of course.
It wasn't until her assignment with him in Las Vegas that she let her guard down with him, and then afterwards with Illya *. Still after those amorous encounters she decided to stick to her gun and remember how she'd been raised...though Napoleon was becoming more and more of a temptation.
In spite of some minor missteps, she just knew they'd all get along; her instincts told her that and the fact that Solo was a real looker didn't hurt either. Those thoughts she had to drive out of her head, as she couldn't think in those terms if she expected others to not objectify her as well.
Now the Russian, he was an interesting character, besides being cute. She'd also been warned by Mark that Illya was a bit stand offish and wasn't well liked by some; there was a resentment because he was a Soviet and therefore not to be trusted. It seemed too many people at headquarters were wrapped up in the politics of the Cold War.
All she knew was that Illya was a good agent, devoted to the Command, and that was good enough for her. Agent Kuryakin was a man of many talents and she knew she could learn a lot from him. He wasn't as cold as people had let on, and had even kindly offered to tutor her in order to improve her Russian accent.*
Being from the mid-west, April was used to the presence of missile silos and most locals just didn't think anything of them. They just went on about the business of their daily lives, taking care of the crops, farm animals, and going to the local baseball and football games. Life was definitely different at home, and moved at a slower pace than it did here in New York.
Still, April Dancer had gone to college and earned a degree with honors, she'd graduated top of her class at Survival School as well, so she knew a thing or two. Though she'd learned the ways of the world, a firm grip was still maintained on her mid-western ways and the sense of morals her family had instilled in her...still she was a woman of the 60's.
At least Kuryakin was safe now as he had decided after their one-nighter that it had been a mistake. It seemed that when illya made up his mind, he stuck to it. She'd heard him referred to as a stubborn Russian and now she knew first hand that he was indeed deserving of that title.
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She was comfortable in a mini skirt and go-go boots, a pair of coveralls and milking a cow...or hunting a deer; didn't matter to her. That perhaps was what Mr. Waverly saw in her, a modern woman who was still in touch with conventional mores but was still at ease in a man's world and not afraid of dealing with those men.
There would be a certain amount of prejudice and problems to face, being the only filly in a barn full of stallions; she'd discussed that possibility with Mr. Waverly when she'd been given the promotion. He also advised her to seek out the Russian, who'd experienced his fair share of bigotry and could help help her to deal with what would surely come her way.
Though discrimination was frowned upon by U.N.C.L.E. Waverly knew his people were only human and were subject to human weaknesses and shortcomings.
His field agents, however, were the best. They'd been hand-picked by him and he expected exemplary behavior from them. It was they who were the shining example for the other Sections.
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April ran a hand along her grey dress, straightening away any creases as she prepared to enter the Section II Conference room; she'd decided it was best to wear something a little conservative to her first briefing to help her blend better with all the suits;. She suddenly remembered it was the same outfit she wore the day she'd met Napoleon and Illya and for some reason that bothered her sense of style, being seen in the same look not too long ago.
Oh well," she sighed to herself, "Too late now."
As the pneumatic doors opened, she took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Agent Dancer scanned the room, not seeing anyone she knew and wondered where her partner had gotten to. She was sure he'd be there, and didn't worry one bit as she walked to the long conference table; putting her purse on a chair, and a notepad and pen at her place.
"Excuse me honey," a man seated next to her spoke," Could you get me another cup of coffee. I need to be awake for this meeting, they can get pretty boring." He held out his mug, barely looking at her.
April stared at him for a second, "My name isn't honey, it's..."
"Okay fine, sweetheart," he interrupted her, " how about that coffee now?"
Her instincts told her to just get it for him, and not cause a ruction at her first briefing, though she wasn't happy that 'things' were already starting.
"Excuse me Agent Simpson," an authoritative voice spoke from behind the two of them. "I think you can just get your own coffee."
"Right you Ponce," Mark Slate joined Napoleon Solo in speaking up.
"No no, gentlemen," April shook her head, sensing the tone in their voices and the fact that Mark had used that nasty British term in her presence. * That simply opened the door for her next move.
"I can handle this," she smiled. " Sure Agent Simpson, I can get that coffee for you."
She went to the side table, filling his white ceramic mug with steaming hot coffee from the percolator, returning to him in just a few steps.
"Oh by the way Agent Simpson, I don't think we've been introduced...I'm April Dancer, Section II and though my momma taught me to be a lady, well I think you need to learn to be a little more respectful...honey."
She promptly poured the coffee in his lap, sending Simpson screaming in pain as he ran towards the door.
"Son of a bi…"
"No cussing," Napoleon called after him, parroting a warning April had given him when they'd first met, "There's a very capable lady present, and she doesn't get coffee for anyone." *
"Thank you,"she silently mouthed.
"Now, anyone else want coffee?" April announced with a wicked grin; scanning the horrified male faces who were covering their crotches with their hands.
"I didn't think so."
Her little demonstration put them on notice that she wasn't to be trifled with for the moment. Intimidation was just one of the skills in her arsenal; she had plenty of tricks up her sleeve and had a feeling she'd need to call upon them when all was said and done. Yet still she knew she needed their respect and trust, and those she'd have to earn.
Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither would April Dancers position be solidified within Section II until she was looked upon as an equal in regards to her abilities and capabilities as an agent.
"Well played April," Kuryakin whispered, stepping up beside her; still being ever the gentleman, he pulled her chair out for her to be seated.
"Thank you Illya, nice to see there's a few men here with good breeding and manners," she said that with a mischievous twinkle in here eyes. There was a fine line she'd have to walk for now, one between the traditional female role and that of a liberated woman... it wasn't going to be easy.
Napoleon cocked an eyebrow, looking at his partner with a sly smile. April Dancer looked as though she was going to work out just fine after all; still their upcoming mission would be the deciding factor. He had high hopes for her as did Alexander Waverly.
"Now gentlemen and Miss Dancer, shall we get started with the briefing?" Napoleon took charge, setting the tone as he passed out the documents to be reviewed.
"As you can see, T.H.R.U.S.H. is on the move again…"
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* ref "The New Kid on the Block"
