Washington D.C; 1959
Eva shifted against the leather bench of the Cadillac Eldorado that Napoleon was yet to stop talking about. She rolled her eyes as his hands stroked the thin steering wheel before spouting off another fact about his beloved new car.
"Napoleon, I love you dearly." She told him, turning to face him as the binoculars she had been peering through came to rest on her lap. "But if you try and enlighten me with another titillating fact about this car which, honestly, looks no different to that blue one over there…" She nodded to the car parked on the street opposite. "…I will kill you."
"A little melodramatic, dear, don't you think?" He asked with a laugh as she huffed before returning to peer at the hotel they were parked down the street from.
They sat in silence for a while; the low hum of the radio the only source of noise as they passed the set of binoculars back and forth, waiting for their marks to arrive.
"I hate fake engagement rings." She sighed, glancing down at the gaudy rock on her finger as Napoleon took his turn with the binoculars. "They're just so…fake."
"Next time I'll be sure to tell Bennett that and we'll see about getting you a real diamond that big."
"You know what I mean." She chided, rolling her eyes as he gave up on staring at the distant entrance to the luxury hotel. "It's not just that this diamond is fake…it's that, even if it were real; it doesn't mean anything." She explained, toying with the ring. "All it is, is an unnecessary beacon telling the world that this woman is off limits and whenever anybody comments on it she had to fawn over her fiancé as though he's bloody Jesus!"
"So when I propose, stick with simple?" Solo joked, nudging her to move her attention from the admittedly huge rock.
"Exactly." She smiled at him, finding comfort in his easy smile and joking words.
She had been more surprised than anyone when, after their little heart-to-heart last year, they had become inseparable. It was as though an unbreakable bond had formed as they spent hours trading stories of their youth and their struggles to carve out places for themselves in their respective Intelligence Services.
Bennett had of course hated it. The man was baffled as the pair regularly met for drinks after a tough day and his never ending sneer at their growing friendship had resulted in many a glare thrown their way as they whispered through his debriefings.
She'd like to think that she'd had a calming effect on the Agent at her side and truthfully, she probably had; the man paid far more attention these days and she often found him making notes almost as meticulous as her own.
But despite all of that, she had a lot to be grateful for as well; Solo had actively encouraged her to not take things so seriously and to let her hair down once in a while, though she suspected he wasn't quite expecting to find her in the centre of the dancefloor last month when they'd been in Miami chasing a lead. She stifled a laugh as the look on his face returned to her mind; the usually polished Agent had been agape as he watched her twirl and laugh with the locals, the fruity cocktails in his hands forgotten as he immediately joined her; her red strappy cocktail dress flaring out as he took her hand and they lost themselves to the insatiable rhythms around them.
"And if I'm not mistaken…" She was broken from her thoughts by Solo's characteristic drawl and watched as the man leant forward, the binoculars glued to his eyes. "…that's them." She too leant forward and let out a sigh of relief as the pale green soft-top pulled up outside the hotel.
"Finally." They had been sat here for three hours. "Ready?" She asked, primping her hair one last time before they exited the car.
"Ready, my sweet." He grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to the fake engagement ring before stepping out of the vehicle and jogging around to hold the door open for her.
"Really darling, must you abandon me again?" Eva asked, her perfected American accent dripping as she clung onto Solo's arm. "You know how lonely I get." Batting her eyelashes up at him, she felt the urge to vomit as she pictured how they must look to the rest of the guests in the hotel lobby.
"I know sweetheart, but it's only for a few hours." She had to give it to Solo; he was excellent at this role. Although, the amount of times they had played it over the past year, she'd be concerned if he wasn't any good at it.
"Can I help you?" They both tore their eyes away from each other as they reached the desk and with a pout, Eva turned away from her 'husband' as he checked them in. allowing her fingers to dance over the wood, her gaze danced around the room and sure enough; they had an audience.
"Are you here for the poker game, Sir?" The clerk asked and Eva turned back to the pair.
"What else?" She sighed dramatically, picking an imaginary piece of dirt from Napoleon's collar. "There isn't anything in this world that could tear my husband away from our bed, unless there's the prospect of handling a dirty pack of cards."
"Forgive my wife." Napoleon's eyes twinkled as he glanced down to her. "She gets awfully huffy whenever I'm due a big game."
"Can you blame me?"
"Have I ever lost?"
That was the line that sealed it; she could feel the atmosphere behind them change and she was sure that the couple loitering a few paces from them were ready to swoop in.
"Not yet." She conceded, lifting onto her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek.
"Your key; Sir, Ma'am." The clerk offered them a tight smile as he held out the room key. "Your bags will be waiting for you."
"Excellent." Napoleon pocked the key. "Now, point us to the bar."
It hadn't taken very long at all for her and Napoleon to be 'bumped into' at the bar and soon enough they were sitting with the very couple they had been waiting for only moments earlier.
"I hear you're playing tonight." Eva felt the tip of her nose sneer slightly as Lindon Barclay; renowned poker cheat who used his winnings to fund various arms deals, leant forward from his bucket seat to tap the edge of his cigarette against the crystal ashtray perched on the small table they had congregated around.
"You hear correctly." Solo smiled as she was sucked into an inane conversation with the one and only Samantha Barclay.
Eva had her suspicions about the woman; she was too perfectly coiffed and her words too…rehearsed as they chatted about the latest styles before moving onto the topic Eva had been leading them towards for some time now.
"And what are your plans for tonight?" Samantha asked as she too tapped the ashes away from her cigarette.
"Same as always." Eva sighed. "A good luck kiss and then whatever poor selection of magazine the hotel offers."
"Poor you." Samantha cooed before pretending to have an ingenious idea. "Well you simply must join myself and the other wives instead!" Eva forced a confused look as the woman tittered on. "Oh we have this little tradition; we all watch the first few hands for good luck before retiring next door for drinks; it can be such a lonely evening otherwise."
"A marvellous idea." Eva agreed before turning and tapping Napoleon on the arm, pulling him from his own conversation. "I trust you would happy with this, dear?"
"With what, my love?"
"Me joining the other wives tonight." He glanced over to Lindon; the man watching them intensely.
"Any opportunity to see you, my love, is fine with me."
The slinky silver cocktail dress was like a second skin on her as she and Napoleon descended the hotel's main staircase together. The foyer was abuzz with activity; men and women stood together in groups, sipping at drinks as they eagerly awaited the start of the poker game.
"Tell me you know what you're doing." She pressed as they weaved through the crowds.
"I know what I'm doing." He chuckled as he reassured her for the third time since they'd left the room and, with a quick squeeze of the hand in the crook of his elbow, all worries vanished from her -face and her persona fell into place.
"I know what I'm doing." She repeated his words from earlier as she pulled against the rope restraints holding her to the chair. "I know what I'm doing." She mocked, blowing a fallen strand of hair from her face. "Why do I trust you?" She craned her neck to steal another glance at the man sat behind her. There was still no answer from him and she sighed. "Come on Napoleon, you need to wake up." She pulled at her bindings once again, the chair back slamming against his as she uselessly fought against the coarse knots.
"Can't a guy get a nap in peace?" She wanted to kiss and kill him at the same time as his groggy words filled her ears. "What happened?"
"You were too good." She told him, her arms falling limp as she gave up on the rope. "And too cocky and then they hit you." Her voice was devoid of emotion as she recalled how quickly Napoleon had been pinned by Lindon Barclay's stooges before the attack began.
"That…" He began as he tried to roll his shoulders. "…I remember."
"I'm surprised you can remember anything with the force they hit you."
"What happened next?"
"Well, once you were motionless in a pool of your own blood, they dragged you into the adjoining room and tied us together." She sighed. "And we've been here for the last two hours."
"Where are they?"
"Probably turning over our room." She told him. "Or figuring out where to bury us once they've killed us." She felt him begin to attack the ropes with the same vigour she'd had when they'd first been imprisoned in this damned room. "I told you this was a stupid plan, Napoleon…he's an arms dealer and we tried to ensnare him with a poker game."
"It was a good plan."
"Clearly."
He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it coming.
The first few hands had gone completely to plan; he'd started well and stayed firmly in the middle of the game, then he'd lost once or twice before building up a good streak of decent wins. The plan was to then end up in a one-on-one game with Barclay, from there Napoleon would have to judge the situation and end up with enough of a repertoire with the man that a partnership would be discussed.
He'd judged it wrong.
From there it was all a bit of a blur really. All he could remember were hands forcing him to his knees and then a flurry of blows and a flash of silver as Eva was caught by another of Barclay's goons. He could make out her face as clear as day; the anguish as more and more blows hit him, her arms forced behind her as she tried to fight the man holding her; the man three times her size.
And then there was damp carpet under his cheek and a red stain forming around it. There was a flicker as a silver dress broke free and then a hand on his head, smoothing back his hair before she was pulled away from him and his eyes flickered shut.
Waking up and not being able to move his arms was more of a shock than it should have been, really. He'd hoped it had all been a bad dream and the jolt that had woken him would be from an elbow as Eva spotted their marks entering the hotel. But no, they weren't in the Cadillac, they were in some sitting room off the main ballroom and it had been the back of her chair as she struggled against restraints.
Yes, he'd definitely judged it wrong.
"It was a good plan." He insisted. And it had been; nobody had been able to get close to Lindon Barclay in a professional measure and then they'd received a piece of intel stating that Barclay had met his right-hand man at a poker game. He'd apparently been so impressed with the calm demeanour and determination to win that he'd hired him on the spot.
Recreating it had been a solid plan. But of course Eva had disagreed and said it was too risky; they were too exposed and there was no chance of back-up in the busy hotel. He'd eventually swayed her and now…well now there was a length of rope biting into his wrist as he fought with it.
"Clearly." She snorted and he tried to ignore the fact that she wasn't fighting the rope anymore; that she'd given up.
"Help me get these ropes off." He instructed, twisting his hands to try and find some give in the bindings. "Eva, we've got to get out of these." He insisted as he felt no movement behind him.
"What do you think I've been doing while you were napping?" She bit out. "I can't get the knot and my wrists are smaller than yours so what makes you think that-" She stopped as his fingers brushed against hers. There was a heartbeat of silence before she stretched out to get a better grip and intertwined their fingers. "They kept hitting you."
She paused and he had to give it her; any other agent would probably be shaking or crying right now but she was just…stoic.
"They kept hitting you and then they wouldn't let me check that you were alive."
"I'm alive." He assured her. "And still ravishing underneath all these bruises." He felt a smile tug at his lips as she laughed.
"Well thank heavens for that." She joked and he felt a breath of relief leave him as her fingers moved from his and began pulling at her ropes again. "Because the moment you become ugly, I'm requesting a new partner."
"I knew you only kept me around for my looks."
"Why else would I put up with you?"
"Because the lock on my cufflink is incredibly sharp?" He asked and felt her go still. "And because there's a bug under the poker table?"
"Oh you beautiful man." She breathed as she reached out and he felt her fingers brush over his wrists as she strained to reach his cufflinks. He felt the small weight on his shirt sleeve fall and grinned as the next sound in the room was the gentle sawing of rope.
"I don't know how you two keep pulling it off." Agent Bennett's glare was doing nothing to dampen the grins of the two agents stood in front of him.
"Let's call it excellent pairing." Napoleon offered as he continued to bat away the medic that kept trying to corner him for stiches.
"Hmm." Bennett eyed them before sighing. "Mission reports on my desk by the end of tomorrow." He stared at them once more before turning on his heel and stalking off to claim whatever credit he could for the couple in handcuffs that were currently being escorted from the hotel.
"Honestly, I'm not sure how keep pulling it off either." Eva laughed as she waved to Samantha Barclay.
"Like I said, Agent Green…" Napoleon smiled as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and place it across her bare shoulders. "…excellent pairing."
They shared a smile as she slipped her arms through the huge sleeves now encasing her.
"That looks nasty." She said as she rose onto her tiptoes to inspect the slash across his jaw that was still dribbling blood.
"I'm fi-"
He cut himself off as her hand clamped around his arm and began dragging him towards the waiting medic. As he was forced into a chair he watched the woman as she argued with the medic until a damp cloth was handed to her and she began to clean the dried blood from his face.
"If they'd told me you were a fusser, I might not have agreed to partner you."
"Agreed to partner with me?" She asked, disbelief filling her voice. "I believe, Agent Solo, that I was the one the CIA needed to convince."
"You say Pot-ay-to…" His smirk turned into a wince as she pressed down on one of the many cuts littering his face.
He was quiet as she gently wiped away all evidence of the beating he had taken only hours. He watched her from the corners of his eyes and tried not to smile as she kept pulling the blazer back onto her shoulder as it slipped down. He felt his heart swell at the look of concentration on her face as she swapped the cloth for a new one and tried to stem the bleeding from particularly insistent cut, when was the last time anyone had taken the time to patch him up post mission? He couldn't remember it ever happening until the stubborn Brit had strutted into his life.
"I didn't listen to you."
"When do you ever?" Her laughter stopped as he reached up to still her hands from their mission of ridding his face of blood. "Napoleon, what's the matter?"
"I didn't listen to you and then put you in danger." He told her as he rose to stand before her.
"That's the job, Napoleon." She reminded him, stepping forward to intertwine their fingers again. "But if I'm going to be in danger with anyone…I'd rather it be the man with a knife for a cufflink." She smiled as she lifted their hands to show him the remaining cufflink.
There was a moment of silence between them as the business of the CIA clearing the street of bystanders and the hotel manager trying to calm remaining guests back into the building, began to fade. Napoleon could almost feel the change in the air around them as the situation they had found themselves in became apparent. He watched as she swallowed nervously before her eyes flickered back up to his and then, he knew what he had to do.
His hands slid from her grasp and skimmed the air for only a second before they came to rest on her waist, the slicing of the sequinned material of her dress forgotten as he pulled her the tiniest bit closer.
He closed the gap with a dip of his head and finally, he kissed her. She responded immediately, her one hand cupping the underside of his jaw as the other bunched the material of his shirt in her fist.
"I have to call my boss." That was the first, breathless thing she told him as they parted. "He's been trying to get hold of me all day."
"Of course." He told her, noting rather smugly that she was yet to let him go. "You should definitely do that."
"I will…" There was another pause between them as her eyes flickered back to his lips. "…later."