Gaby closed the door of her hotel room with a little more strength than necessary, abandoning her trendy and oh-so-expensive purse on the floor, which was soon followed by her mid-season coat. In fact, the latter had spent the whole time waiting in the car, clearly superfluous on such a hot day, but still, with no apparent reason, she had taken it.
Then, she took a deep breath, and let all the day's pressure go off her body. UNCLE had been assigned with a new mission two days ago, which required once more to go undercover, to pretend being someone she was very different from – some wealthy and frivolous little bitch, only caring about champagne, caviar and having her complete wardrobe renewed every week. A proper daddy's little girl, who enjoyed more than enough of the patriarch's absence due to a business trip by partying with her friends and doing her best to ruin the old man.
But for such a role, she needed to be convincing, as Napoleon pointed out. Of course, and much to her dismay, it implied endless shopping sessions, Gaby being her colleagues' doll one more time, for the sake of the case. It was like being back in Rome again and again, even if now she didn't mind that much, although she would have preferred to use that time for something more useful, like learning how to shoot properly and without closing her eyes, or with a session of sparring.
Illya had chosen her shoes, aka the things of evil that had transformed her day into a living nightmare. She had to admit it, they were pretty in the vitrine, even appealing, and she liked the colour. Yellow, one of her favourites. The heels seemed quite high, but during the shopping trip, she didn't really pay attention to it, bored as she was after spending three hours in the same store. The only thing she had wanted at that moment was to get out of there, enjoying her last day before the beginning of the mission and feeling the sun on her skin. She had let Illya slip them on her bare feet, like in fairy tales. Gaby had tried to walk with them, but her attempt was cut short by a call from Waverly on the shop's telephone, urging the team to come back to the headquarters at once. Using this unexpected diversion to his advantage, Illya had added the pair on the list of their purchases.
And here she was, after more than ten hours wearing those damn stilettos, her ankles completely sore and the sole of her feet burning against the expensive leather. Casually slumping on the edge of the room's huge bed, she immediately bent forward and got rid of her poor feet's high-heeled aggressors. Throwing them across the room, Gaby started to run her fingers along her calves, desperate to ease the pain.
She did not hear the door open, nor did she feel someone approaching, and yet, here was Illya, standing in front of her, a sheepish look on his pale face. He did not say anything, and knelt before her. Then, he took her tiny left foot in his big cold hands, making her shiver. Well, that was definitely pleasurable. First, he caressed it lighly, careful not to insist too much on the irritated parts.
Once his inspection was complete, he slowly started to rub the damaged skin, and Gaby relaxed under his touch, enjoying each moment of this intimate session. Oh yes, she had hated him all day long for making her wear these shoes, but now, all her anger and resentment had vanished as she was lost in some sort of trance. Everything around her had disappeared, except for Illya and his magic hands. Nothing else mattered anymore. The Russian finally looked up, meeting his partner's brown eyes while massaging each of her toes. He offered her one of these precious smiles, the ones only she was given the right to witness. She smiled back, trying to resist the urge of kissing those damn perfect lips.
She did not. Brushing her mouth against his in a soft yet quick peck, she giggled, ready to wear any heel in the world if it brought that kind of sweet reward in the end.
Huge thanks for taking the time to read this pure fluff short story, I hope you enjoyed it :)