I had to write this rather quickly, but here it is! I definitely took the troupe and ran with it and just had fun!

And no, I don't own The Man from UNCLE

"Your mark is doubting your abilities again, Peril. You have a tail." Napoleon drawled, stepping out from behind a pillar.

Illya had his arm wrapped around hers, looking every inch the fiancée he was pretending to be. "Will you never learn, Cowboy? They have been following us since we left the market, one is dressed in white and the other has a scar along his forearm. Now leave us before you blow our cover." She could feel the deep vibrations of his accented English and shivered.

Would Napoleon ever learn? Illya knew what he was doing and even she was impressed and surprised he noticed a scar, normally obstructed from view, from so far away.

"Don't let this be another Italy. Don't lose it on us and blow the entire mission, Peril." Napoleon warned.

"If I recall, Cowboy, what blew our mission was your cockiness with the safe. No alarm my ass. Simple mistake for such CIA's greatest spy. In KGB, you wouldn't have even made the cut." Sarcasm and dissension dripped from his every word.

"I suppose, as one with such a… colorful history, you would know about barley making the cut rather intimately." Napoleon shot back, giving as good as he got.

Illya's finger started tapping on her arm.

"Big talk for a man that must sleep his way through every mission to not screw up."

Gaby could see Napoleon tense, his only response that the Russian's word hit their mark. "At least they leave my bed satisfied. You can't even close the deal."

Illya's finger started tapping at a faster rate. She wondered what Napoleon meant by that statement. They had only known each other for two missions and on both of those Illya were supposed to be engaged. However, it didn't take her long to realize that that dig was meant about her and it was something she had wondered herself about. After all, she certainly wouldn't mind the Russian throwing her up against a way and having his wicked way with her.

She missed most of what they were saying, but kept an eye on his rapidly twitching finger. They were rounding another corner and she saw their tails coming up behind them.

"Napoleon, you have to go now. Leave Illya alone or you will be the direct cause of this mission going to shit." She said bluntly, moving her head towards the tails general direction.

"Shit." He muttered underneath his breath.

"They are too close for you to make a clean getaway, Cowboy."

"I know. Just… go with it."

"I will not just go with whatever ignorant idea has come to that head of yours." Illya replied indignantly. "There are three of us and two of them. We can kill them off."

"What is with you and killing?! You risk blowing our cover! You are supposed to be a jewelry designer on business with your fiancée."

"Well then we fight them. Russians do not back down. We fight. KGB I would kill."

Gaby rolled her eyes, "Just go along with his plan Illya."

Illya turned to give her an incredulous stare before resuming his furious "I'm an angry KGB agent" face.

Gaby turned to Napoleon, knowing that she won. "What is your plan."

Napoleon turned to see how close the tails were before facing her with his charming, womanizing smile. "Hello gorgeous, I saw you last night at the party and knew that I just had to talk to you." He said suavely, leaning down to saw it near her ear.

She acted her part and turned her head away, ignoring him completely.

"What do you say you dump the grump and come have a fun time with a real man?" He said suggestively, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

She turned to him and batted her eyes, "And how can you guarantee that, Mr. Davenport? I happen to like my men rather… rough. You look like you would slip right out from under me." She tittered like a high society debutant.

Napoleon raised a rather rakish looking eyebrow, "I can assure you, Mrs. Lang, I am easy to keep a grip on and I only get other slippery."

Illya has remained tense and quiet during their entire exchange but Gaby could feel his arm grip hers like a vice after that comment.

"Your such a rouge, Mr. Davenport! However, I think I will remain with my fiancée." She turned to give Illya her doe-eyed, happy-in-love, puppy dog face.

He remained taciturn and refused to even meet her eyes and looking, decidedly not, like a fiancée. She knew that she would have to end this quick if they wanted to keep their cover.

"I can also assure you, Mr. Davenport, that you have nothing on my fiancée and he does more than fine in keeping me satisfied. Good day."

To make her point even more she stood up on her tiptoes, grabbed Illya's lapels and brought his lips to hers in a resounding kiss. His lips felt heavenly and soft, not that she could really focus on that now, but his arms remained stiff at his sides.

This would never do in convincing anyone they were a loving couple. She slowly brought her hands down onto his chest, leaning into him more and opened her lips and dragged the tip of her tongue along his top lip, coaxing him.

She felt him jump that the unexpected move, his mouth opening almost mechanically to follow her motions. After a few seconds his teeth, accidentally, light scrapped her bottom lip and she couldn't help but groan. Biting was always her weakness.

Her groan woke something up inside Illya and before she could comprehend what had happened she was up against a wall, his hands in her hair, kissing her like she was the only sustainable thing around. His body was pressed into hers, allowing to feel every inch of muscle that was on his body. He easily picked her up so he didn't have to stoop so much, indicating just how strong he was (It did not escape her notice just now that he let her win in Italy).

She melted into him, succumbing to his strength. Her hands traveled into his hair, pulling it slightly and loving his gasps and groans. They continued on for what felt like forever before they heard Napoleon.

"I think you can stop now. They guys trailing you left after your rather amorous display. I didn't know you even had it in you, Peril!"

Illya stepped back, his eyes dark with desire and his hair sticking up in every direction. It was rather adorable and she knew she looked just as rough.

He, however, had not let her go from her position against the wall. "I guess it's a good thing. They won't be doubting our cover again." Gaby said with a bright smile.

"You want to let her down now, Peril? We need to get ready for tonight."

Illya shook his head before finally looking at their positions. During their display her legs had wrapped around his waist and his hands ended up underneath her skirt, resting on her thighs. Not that she minded, of course.

He let her down slowly, "Yes. We need to head back now. Leave us."

Napoleon made himself scarce.

"That was interesting." Gaby said conversationally while taking his arm again.

"Yes. We must do what we need to do to maintain our cover. It is very important that Italy does not happen again."

Gaby looked up at him, his jaw clenched tight, "So just maintaining our cover then?"

"Of course." His jaw ticked, almost betraying his lie if Gaby hadn't looked away.