The prompt:

What If: Napoleon and Illya become so distracted by personal issues that they flub a mission.

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As they peeked over the top of the dumpster, Napoleon and Illya realized they had blown their assignment...both literally and figuratively.

Each had bloody cuts on their foreheads, but were none the worse for wear. They'd both dove into the dumpster when debris came hurtling their way from the building they'd just blown up.

As the dust cleared they both spotted THRUSH agents pouring out from...the building across the street.

The UNCLE agents quickly ducked out of sight.

"Illya, what did you do?"

"What do you mean? I blew up the building as instructed."

"Then why we just see a flock of birds coming out a building across the street? Did you set the charges in the wrong one?"

"Excuse me?" Illya hissed, keeping his voice low. "I set them at the address you gave me and that was building 123."

"123? No it was 124, I'm positive."

"Napoleon, I know what you said and it was 123."

"I did?"

"Yes, proof that it was the wrong address was the THRUSH that rushed out of building 124. Something is wrong with you Napoleon, it is not like you to make such a mistake."

The American slumped, and though he was surrounded by stinky garbage, it didn't seem to bother him for once.

"I have to be honest tovarisch; I'm off my game."

"Why?"

"I've been a bit distracted," Napoleon hesitated."I think I might have gotten one of my lady friends pregnant."

"What?" Illya blurted out, but quickly covered his mouth lest he be heard."How many times have you been warned to use a condom? Especially after your brush with …"

"Yeah, I know, a sexually transmitted disease. Hey, sometimes when the mood is right, well it's hard to fight it. Sometimes you're caught off guard and not ...ahem, prepared."

"Napoleon, you are a grown man; can you not exercise self control?"

"This coming from a man who eats like a dog and doesn't know when to stop?"

"Eats like a dog? You know full well that I have a very high metabolism and it must be kept fueled."

"Fueled? Do you call eating more than what two normal men would consume fueled? I call it gluttony."

Illya crossed his arms with a huff. Though he was stubborn enough to continue arguing, he realized there was no point in doing so; what was done was done."

They sat together in silence for a few minutes, until Napoleon finally spoke up.

"Well we still have to blow up the right building. Want to give it a go?"

"Now?"

"No time like the present. I'm sure all the birdies have fluttered away by now."

"Napoleon, I can not."

"Why?"

"Because I used all the explosives on...123."

"Well that explains why it blew to kingdom come. Was that really necessary?"

"No, not really, but like you, I was a bit distracted while setting the devices."

Napoleon grinned. "Ahh, so the shoe is on the other foot. And what pray tell had the mighty Illya Kuryakin so distracted that he screwed up with his explosives."

"I was hungry." As if on cue, Illya's stomach growled, quite loudly.

Solo pinched his nose as he shook his head.

"Well I guess we better head back to headquarters and explain to Mr. Waverly. We both need to change our clothes and...you need to eat."

Illya cringed. "He is not going to be happy."

"Hey, this is all my fault. I gave you the wrong address so I'll take the fall for it. The Old Man doesn't know how much explosives you bring with you for this kind of assignment."

"He will once he checks the reports from the armory that lists how much I was issued."

"Oh, yes, that's right isn't it?" Solo's communicator chirped.

"Solo here."

"Napoleon it's Allison."

He hesitated to respond." Hi how are you?"

"I figured you'd want to know right away...I'm not pregnant. I got my friend this afternoon."

"How do you feel about that?" He asked.

"Relieved, and you?"

"The same."

"Thanks Allison. I need to cut this short as I'm on an assignment. I'll talk to you when I get back to headquarters. Out."

"Well that solves your distraction." Kuryakin's stomach grumbled again.

"Let's head out and get that taken care of tovarisch."

As they rose in the dumpster, it was clear the area had been abandoned.

"Napoleon, I have a way that we might take care of 124."

"I'm listening."

"There is a container of petrol in the trunk of our car...we could use it to burn down the building."

"Sounds like a plan. I could tell the Old Man that the Thrushies had taken over both 123 and 124."

"That works for me." Illya winked.

"Let's go then," Napoleon hopped out of the dumpster, followed by his partner.

Illya picked up a sign that had been thrown to the ground by the explosion.

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It said, "CAUTION. THIS BUILDING IS UNSAFE AND IS SCHEDULED FOR DEMOLITION."

The only thing Napoleon could do was to laugh...