April and Mark's most recent mission was a complete success. Mr. Waverly awarded them with a well-deserved two-week vacation.
They celebrated by going to a restaurant in New York City. It was secretly owned by UNCLE, se the two of them were assured secrecy. They were given a quiet booth away from other people.
They ordered their meals—she a steak and he a leg of lamb—and they had a bottle of $50 red wine with it. The wine came, and the waiter left them alone.
"To a successful operation," said Mark.
"And may we have many more of them," said April. They drank.
"There's something I've wanted to ask you for a while."
"Sure, Mark."
"Your name—April Dancer."
"What about it?"
"Is it your real name, or an alias-if you don't mind my asking?"
"It's my real name! Do you have a problem with it?"
"No, not at all! But I think you'll admit that it sounds…well, like a stage name for an actress."
"Yeah, I guess you're right, Mark. My mom was a little weird!"
They both chuckled.
The food came, and they dug in.
He felt something brush against his leg; it was her bare right foot! He looked at her, and she smiled coyly.
"April!"
"Don't be so uptight, Mark! It's just us alone. "
"But…we're agents—partners."
"Haven't you ever had…feelings about me?"
"No! Well…sometimes."
"Sometimes? Like, when?"
"Well, there was that affair in Bermuda when I saw you in that sexy negligee."
"And when else?"
He thought for a bit. "Paris. You ended up in a fountain with that white dress on!"
"It showed off quite a bit wet, didn't it?"
"Yes, it did!"
"Was it just those two times?"
"No, there were others."
"How many others?"
He grew silent. "Several others!"
She smiled. "Aha!"
"You know UNCLE frowns upon agents getting romantically involved with each other."
"Officially, yes. But remember agents 26 and 42 got married, last year."
"That's true."
"I talked with 42 recently; they're both very happy together."
"That's nice to hear. But you know, there's always the chance one of us will get killed."
"And there's a chance someone will get killed just walking across the street!"
"Touché, April!"
"So, how about it, Mark?"
She brought her foot farther up his leg. He reached his hand down and rubbed the foot. They both smiled.
"There's a small hotel close to this restaurant," he said.
"Will you still respect me in the morning?"
"Then, and always, April Dancer!"
Unbeknownst to them, Mr. Waverly was sitting at a table nearby. He watched them—and smiled!