Pairing IK and NS
Disclaimer I don't own the characters from the tv show The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Illya was perplexed. People had often stared at him when he'd first arrived at headquarters. That was something that was to be expected by any new agent. But he noted with discomfort that they were doing it again. Almost everyone he'd passed in the corridor had done a double take upon seeing him. He had stared back at everyone in his frostiest manner and strode purposefully ahead. He was determined to ignore the snickering and whispered comments.
"Is my fly undone?" he wondered. He'd need privacy to check the zipper. Fortunately, the elevator was just a little bit further away. He hastened his footsteps and reached it within minutes. Then he stood stoically in place and feigned indifference while he waited.
The elevator arrived and as soon as the doors slid open, Illya dashed inside. He sighed gratefully upon finding it unoccupied. He pressed the button for Waverly's floor and waited impatiently for the doors to slide closed. Then he ran a finger down his fly. Everything checked out satisfactorily.
The elevator stopped at the next floor and two people boarded. Illya knew them only by sight. The man was a fellow Section Two agent. The woman worked in the acounting division. They pressed the buttons for their respective floors and after doing so, the woman stepped to the side and faced forward. The man was a different matter entirely.
With a huge grin, he turned to Illya and asked, "Is it that time of month again?"
"What in the world is the proper response to that?" Illya wondered. He knew that *have a nice day* only called for a *thank you, you too* in return. A comment about the weather could be acknowledged with a knowing nod. This was a new expression and Illya considered the possible list of salutations. He decided to keep it simple. A short reply was best.
"Possibly," Illya said.
"You don't know for sure?" The man's grin grew even wider.
"Not yet. I need to correlate the data before I am certain." Perhaps an open ended answer was the solution.
The man still wasn't satisfied. He almost doubled over with laughter as he asked, "What data would that be?"
"It is classified," he said. He stared at the closed doors and thought, "There, that should do it."
The agent disembarked at the next floor. Illya could still hear his laughter as the doors closed. Now it was the woman's turn to approach him. She held out her hand and smiled tentatively as she said, "Perhaps you'd allow me to get rid of them for you." She indicated his pocket with the sanitary napkins partially displayed.
"They may be disposable, but they are mine to dispose of," Illya said in an affronted tone.
"I'm only trying to help."
"What nerve!" Illya thought. "To help herself is more like it. She can acquire her own." He faced forward and decided to ignore her. She shrugged helplessly and was silent for the remainder of the ride. Then she stepped out at her floor without a backwards glance.