Eartha Kitt was crooning a Christmas song of sorts. Napoleon always found her voice, cat-like and sexy.
The woman he was dancing with at the moment was exactly that...dark, lovely and seductive, she was dripping in gems and jewels and obviously, like in the song, she preferred the expensive things in life. She had a an hourglass figure, her dark eyes were hypnotic, and for a moment Napoleon almost lost himself in them. He'd been stringing her along for weeks to gain her confidence, letting her think he was the rich son of wealthy oil man and looking to commit a little industrial espionage.
He knew she was T.H.R.U.S.H, but she didn't know he was from U.N.C.L.E. She was too busy focusing on his 'assets' in one way, shape or form at the moment.
.
"Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me . I've been an awful good girl. Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight
Santa baby, a sixty-two convertible too, light blue. I'll wait up for you dear. Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight."
.
"Isn't this purrrfectly delicious," she whispered, nibbling on his earlobe."Let's get out of here, I know a place where we can have privacy, and whet our appetites with something more exciting, if you get my drift. Me-oooow."
Napoleon's eyes rolled back, he had never been in this position where a woman was doing the seducing and not him..
.
"Think of all the fun I've of all the fellas that I haven't year I could be oh so you'd check off my Christmas list. Santa honey, I wanna yacht and really that's not a lot. I've been an angel all baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight."
.
"Want to come down my chimney tonight Napoleon?" Her voice was raspy, and all the more sexy.
"Would that this were a real seduction," Solo mused to himself, he could really go for this one if it were possible, as he suspected she was a real wildcat in bed."
"Ah, you're forgetting something darling. You're supposed to deliver a certain item to me," he nuzzled on her throat. "I brought the money you wanted."
"Eeeeeew, that feels soooo good," she giggled, "yes I suppose business first." She reached into the bodice of her little black sequined mini dress and drew out a small envelope with a stamp attached to the front of it, but with no mailing address." Mmmm nothing like a little under cover activity to get me all hot and bothered. Now your end of the bargain, handsome?"
The singer continued her sultry, yet quite materialistic song...or as Illya might say decadent and bourgeois. Napoleon took the envelope, tucking it safely into his pocket. "It's inside, I presume?"
"My goodness, noooo how boring that would be. The microdot is under the stamp of course."
He slipped her a larger envelope from his inner breast pocket. "My part of the bargain."
"Now back to our other business." This time she sang along with the music.
"Come and trim my Christmas tree, with some decorations bought at Tiffany's. With this money and you dear, we'll be able to do just that!"
Napoleon reached into his jacket pocket again, this time taking out a syringe and jabbing it into her rump.
"Ewww, what was that?" She giggled, thinking Napoleon was getting frisky before she slumped into his arms. He set her down in a chair, retrieving the money envelope, and taking off to where his partner waited nearby.
"Why did you ask me to have the singer perform that obnoxious song?" Illya asked.
"Mood music chum, mood music."
"For you or for her?"
"Her of course, she never saw it coming."
.
"Hurry down the chimney tonight...Hurry, tonight."