Act 1: You want us to what?

Alexander Waverly stood in front of the picture window in his office, the only one in the building , looking at the view of the United Nations it presented. This last affair had shaken him more then he would have liked to admit. Thanks to Kingsley, one of their own, THRUSH had almost pulled taking over the world off. Shaking his head he thought about the other matter that had just come up. Something drastic would have to be done. But what? Something totally farfetched, something THRUSH would never expect. Going back to his desk he went over all the can dates for the job, Of course, his two top agents, but could they pull it off. Then his mind went back to two previous affairs. That one, what had they called it? The Hula Doll Affair, stupid name that, but he distinctly remembered hearing Kuryakin tell Solo to get his jollies elsewhere and had looked up in time to see Solo glance down to Kuryakin's lap. And when he was going out the door with Miss Okasata he was sure he had heard Kuryakin saying that he'd like to hear Solo's stories….anytime. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but he was sure they'd be able to pull it off. His decision made, he flicked the switch. "Ms…um…please have Mr.'s Solo and Kuryakin report to my office right away."

"Yes, sir."

He reached for his pipe and leaned back in his chair. This might turn out all right after all.

Illya Kuryakin came out of his office, his glasses on reading a folder in his hand. He spotted his partner walking up the hall ahead of him and hurried to catch up with him. Napoleon head down, shoulders slumped heard the sound of footsteps behind him and paused to see who it was. With his hands in his pocket he remarked rather dully, " I see you got a call to see Waverly, too?"

As they continued down the hall Kuryakin looked at his partner quizzically, "Are you all right?"

"I guess I'm just….tired."

They had reached Waverly's office and paused at the door. Napoleon to adjust his tie and pat his hair in place, Illya to put away his glasses. Upon entering they saw Mr. Waverly turn the table to bring two folders to their usual seat. Without a word, they sat down and started perusing the folders. Solo looked up sharply. "We have a mole." It wasn't a question.

Illya looked up sharply, "where do you see that?" he asked.

"There," his partner handed over his folder and pointed to a certain passage.

It always amazed him how his partner could read between the lines "Oh…I thought we had taken care of that sort of problem after that trouble we had with Carla?" Illya looked up at Mr. Waverly.

Mr. Waverly, looking slightly embarrassed, reached for his pipe. "So had I."

Silence reigned for a minute as each man thought their own thoughts about what this would mean. Illya got up out of his chair and went over to were the coffee carafe was, serving himself some coffee.

Mr. Waverly steeling himself went on, "As I'm sure you know Commands view of certain …personal…relationships have come under attack lately."

This change of subject caught both men by surprise and Napoleon turned in his chair to look at his partner and their expressions seemed to say Where is this coming from?

Both of them looked at their chief ready to deny, "Sir, we…" from Napoleon. "Surely you don't suppose.." from Illya.

Waverly had gotten out of his chair and was lighting his pipe. "No, no, gentlemen, I've no concerns in that area." Puffing away, "But what if you were?"

The cup that Illya had just picked up went crashing to the floor as both man gaped at their superior in surprise. The door flew open and Lisa Rogers entered gun drawn. Mr. Waverly, waved toward the mess, "Nothing serious, just a little mishap." None of the men said anything as Ms. Rogers cleaned up the mess and poured another cup which she handed to Illya. He took it automatically as she left the room wondering what had caused the cup to fall.

Coming back to the table and almost slamming the cup down Illya sputtered, "You can't be serious, surely nobody would believe that? Especially of Napoleon, with his reputation with the ladies."

Waverly sat back down in his chair and calmly responded, "Ah, but recently that has changed hasn't it, Mr. Solo?"

Illya turned in amazement to look at his partner. Napoleon was looking down at his hand inspecting his nails, not daring to meet either man's eyes. "That's just a temporary problem." He muttered embarrassed.

"Well no one would believe that I…"picking up his cup Illya started to take a sip.

"Mr. Kuryakin, you have been the object of office gossip for some time in that regard." Mr. Waverly stated, causing Illya to spit out the coffee he had just sipped. Napoleon had to turn away to hide the smile that came to his face grateful that he was no longer the subject under discussion.

"Me?" Illya let out a squeak.

"Yes, you." Mr. Waverly started to look amused. "I suppose it has something to do with the way you hold a cup, something you undoubtedly picked up in England while at Cambridge. There is also the matter of certain comments you've made in all probability not realizing the context they could be taken as."

Clearing his throat Napoleon asked, "Why us?"

"You two are my best men, don't let that go to your head, but I'm going to need the best if this is going to be pulled off." Waverly stated. He proceeded to outline the plan as both men started to turn green. But in the end they agreed it was the only way.