Three newly qualified section two agents sat at a table in the commissary; they were quietly discussing the last assignment they had been on as they ate.

"I can't wait 'til we can get a proper assignment; I'm fed up with being babysat," a dark haired Felix Taylor commented.

"Yeah, and why we had to have Andrews and Dancer, I'll never know," Patrick Fletcher replied; a freckled man who looked to be barely in his twenties.

"Why UNCLE ever entertained the notion of females in Section two, I'll never know," the third member of the group, Phillip Cortez, chipped in.

"Surely, they would never be strong enough to withstand life in the field for long. They're not called the "weaker sex" for nothing you know," Patrick added scornfully.

"And as for that Rebecca Andrews, she seems to think we're so incompetent," Phillip grouched.

"Yeah, I could've handled that THRUSH guy, she didn't give me time to deal with him," Fletcher complained.

"There was enough time for him to try to hit you twice," Phillip grinned.

"I still think I'd have got him if she'd given me a bit more of a chance," Fletcher said.

"I liked April though, she's hot."

"Felix, you think everything with a skirt is hot," Phillip smirked, "I know what I'd like to do with Rebecca, even if she does think we're next to useless; reckon I could show her a thing or two."

None of the young men noticed the seasoned section two agent, who overheard their conversation, as he passed by their table.

"May I take this seat? The Commissary seems to be unusually full this afternoon," Illya politely asked.

"Err, no, of course not. You're welcome," a flustered Felix Taylor said, immediately recognising the Russian.

Kuryakin saw the discomfort in the man and smiled inwardly. He would have a bit of fun with these green agents and maybe teach them a lesson at the same time.

"How are you finding life in the field?" Illya queried as he cut into his steak pie.

"Well, so far it's been okay," Taylor replied.

"It would be if we weren't still being babysat," Patrick moaned.

"And by women at that," Phillip added.

"I see. Miss Dancer and Miss Andrews are assigned to you then?" The Russian stated, knowing full well they were.

"Yeah, what are women doing in Section two anyway?" Patrick asked.

"I suppose they are just as capable as we are, or else they wouldn't be sent into the field." Felix tried to steer the conversation away from the direction it seemed to be heading.

"From the reports I have seen, I believe Miss Andrews prevented you from getting shot on a couple of occasions Mr. Fletcher," Illya commented.

Patrick blushed, remembering when he had failed to notice a THRUSH on his case. "Err, yes, she had sir."

"This is why we don't let you out on your own until we are sure you can look after yourselves properly," the Russian said.

"Yes, but why women?" Phillip asked plaintively.

"Have you read about Miss Andrews and Miss Dancer in your files?"

"Erm, no, not really, we sort of overlooked them," Felix replied sheepishly.

"I suggest you do then, you will find they are both very capable, in fact, they are more capable than some of our male agents; you could learn a thing or two from them."

"Yes, Mr. Kuryakin," all three replied in unison.

"Another thing, I would also be very careful what you talk about, you never know who is listening. If you really must complain about someone, it is best done in private," Illya finished with a sly smile.

The three young men, suitably chastised, bid good day to the Russian and left the table. As they walked towards the door, it opened and April, Napoleon and Rebecca walked in. Looking around, they saw Illya sitting at the table, finishing the last of his meal and walked over to him.

"Thought we'd find you here." Napoleon said as he sat down opposite the Russian.

"Mmm, you found me. April, you look hot, do not tell me the air conditioning is not working in your office again."

"What are you going on about, Illya?" April asked, "you know we don't have air conditioning in there."

"My mistake, I forgot, but... you do look hot."

He leaned over to Becca and whispered in her ear, "I plan on showing you a thing or two tonight, moya lyubov."

She looked at him questioningly.

"You have been out in the sun too long, again, I think." Rebecca smiled.

The three junior agents watched in disbelief as they saw Rebecca give Illya a quick peck on the cheek, after the Russian had spoken to her, before settling down next to him, and groaned as they realised what fools they had made of themselves.