It was one of the few days of the year that agents in the employ of the U.N.C.L.E. ( not to mention other personnel) kept a low profile at headquarters.
Alexander Waverly, though brushing off the many superstitions his people held about Friday the 13th; he still gave way to their apprehensions. Assignments were kept to an absolute minimum across the board on this date, (if it could be helped) and that suited the Old Man just fine.
It made him look more understanding to his people's concerns; not that he had to be, but it helped with employee and management relations.
Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin were carefully going along in the somewhat empty gray corridors of headquarters in New York, still hypersensitive to the dangers that could still befall them on this day. That being said, they'd both decided the last time the infamous date had rolled around, that they'd had it with the good luck charms and other nonsense associated with warding off bad luck; since they were on a ship, they tossed their lucky charms over the side into the drink. They still managed to survive the sinking ship without them; end of story...maybe.
Others weren't as easily convinced that carrying those baubles, and performing rituals like throwing salt over one's left shoulder were pointless.
A wet floor, falling objects, ladders, malfunctioning doors, trips and slips were among the many 'accidents' that had befallen people over the years on this date so the dread of Friday the 13th stuck.
They, along with many other agents, had initIally taken to carrying a plethora of good luck charms from hot pink rabbit's feet, lucky coins, four leaf clovers to name a few; April Dancer had a number of lucky charms added to her ever-present charm bracelet (which included a few exploding charms as well.) Her partner was equally as superstitious and carried his lucky four leaf clover with him, even when it wasn't Friday the 13th.
Mr. Waverly had his horseshoe hung above the door to his conference room, the ends up so the luck wouldn't run out…though he waved it off as being a souvenir from his younger days.
Everything from a broken heel with one of the secretaries, to a shattered beaker in Research and Development was blamed on the 13th!
One person seemingly unfazed by this particular day was George Dennell. He went about his business, pooh-poohing all the talk about luck, though April once tried her best to convince him otherwise. He did manage to cross his fingers during that conversation, but that was it.
George even went so far as to discount the famous 'Solo luck.' He was ignored; though quite intelligent, Dennell was also perceived as a bit goofy, and his musings about the day were let go at that.
Napoleon, sequestered in his office, feeling a bit bored, suddenly had a brilliant idea. Since George didn't acknowledge the significance of the 13th; he decided to tail the man to see what his day was like, just to see if he'd run into a bit of bad luck. That was a conundrum to Illya since he and his partner had sworn off the superstitions about the day, but apparently old habits died hard.
Given Dennell was a bit on the clumsy side, Napoleon thought it would be amusing to see what happened, if anything. So he thought a little bit of sleuthing would be in order, heck…it was something to do besides paperwork.
Illya was recruited as well as Mark and April; they'd trade off, taking turns following George. Solo knew that if he kept turning up, Dennell might get a little suspicious, so better they all tailed him in shifts.
Napoleon took the first leg, following George from his office to the Commissary. Dennell had a file in his hands, his nose buried in it as he read it while he walked.
There was a maintenance man carrying a large ladder over his shoulder, suddenly appearing around the corner, swinging it right at George.
Napoleon cringed, anticipating a collision, but Dennell ducked just in time. Not missing a beat, he straightened up and continued walking with his nose still buried in the file.
Illya picked George up in the Commissary and watched as the man walked inside, stopping for a second as he turned a page in the folder and nearly having the pneumatic doors close on top of him. He simply took half a step forward to avoid the doors, and continued on, still reading.
George approached the counter, getting himself a cup of black coffee. There was a smear of eggs on the floor in front of him, and Kuryakin was sure Dennell would slip and go feet first into the air. The Russian, anticipating the fall, came towards George to catch him and prevent injury.
Dennell however, walked right around it, still with his nose buried in the file. Kuryakin was amazed; it was as if the usually clumsy man had developed extra-sensory perception…and coordination.
That was merely a passing thought, which the pragmatic Russian quickly dismissed. Illya whispered into his communicator, contacting Slate and letting him know George was headed his way.
"Good morning guv," Mark tipped his corduroy hat as Dennell passed him by, but his greeting was ignored.'
The Brit remained at a discreet distance, following behind George and watched in disbelief as the man just missed an exploding light bulb in a wall fixture outside Communications. Flying glass, much less the sound didn't phase Dennell at all…
It was obvious nothing was happening to the man, and Mark handed off to Dancer, grateful to give up this pointless plan.
April caught up to George and called out to him.
"Where are you headed?"
Dennell looked up from his file, a bit distracted. "Oh, oh April…gee, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention as I was trying to brush up on a financial report that Mr. Waverly gave me. Apparently Accounting has advised him of some irregularities in my Section. So far, I can't find anything out of the ordinary."
"Well George dear, you should be a bit more careful about what you're doing…it being Friday the 13th."
"April, please. That's still a load of hoo-ha, if you ask me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to my office and finish going over this file. Mr. Waverly expects my response by this afternoon and I can't be late."
"Oh, all right dear. See you later for lunch in the Commissary?"
"I'll try. Bye April.'
Dennell disappeared through the doors to his office as they opened, and he quickly pressed the button to lock them behind him.
He took a deep breath, sighing his relief as he emptied his suit jacket pockets. He piled a red rabbit's foot, a silver horseshoe charm, a four leaf clover encased in glass, a little laughing buddha charm, a hamsa charm, a blue and white moloch, a gold plated acorn, a gold ankh charm, a small hand-painted egg that Illya had given him, and last but not least, a small vial of holy water.
George figured he was just about covered from every angle when it came to luck, though he'd never let on to the others about it…
Illya and Napoleon had gathered in security to view a video feed from a small camera Kuryakin had planted in George's office.
When they saw him unload all the good luck charms on his desk, they were flabbergasted.
"Maybe we need our charms after all," Napoleon whispered. He reached into his pocket and drew out two rabbit's foot keychains, one red, the other blue.
He offered the red one to his partner. "I thought you'd like this color more than a hot pink one."
The look on Kuryakin's face was one of discomfort. "Must we?"
"Hey, after seeing all the luck George had today, maybe we shouldn't have been so hasty to get rid of our…"
"Luck? Really Napoleon?"
"Yes, really tovarisch."
"Might I remind you Napoleon that nothing untoward has befallen us today, sans good luck charms," Illya chided.
"Nothing so far, "Solo held out the rabbit's food, placing it in his partner's outstretched hand...