A beautiful lounge singer and Napoleon Solo cross paths during U.N.C.L.E.’s mission in New York.
Napoleon Solo x WOC oc
There isn’t enough Solo centered fics out there so…
Thank you to @matriarchcomputer for hearing out my idea and to @littlefreya for encouraging me to post it.
The idea came to me as I was listening to NIKI’s songs “Lowkey” and “Dancing With The Devil.” Do check em out if you can!
*****
“It’s your lucky day, Solo,” Waverly announced to the team as he walked into the headquarters’ conference room. “We’re going to New York.”
“Nice of you to let me go back home every once in a while,” Napoleon quipped and leisurely took a sip of his liquor.
“U.N.C.L.E.’s next assignment involves The Fernsbys,” Waverly informed the group as he set a dossier on the table.
“The jewelry company?” Illya questioned, reaching for the folder and sifting through the documents.
“The very one, Mr. Kuryakin.”
“So their business is a front?” Gaby asked.
“Oh no, it’s real. They make jewelry of very high quality. What they do with the money they make, now that’s a different story.” The British commander elaborated, “We have reason to believe they’re manufacturing a new drug intended for biological warfare. It causes people to have heightened abilities- enhanced sight, speed, hearing, strength, and smell. However, the side effects include intense aggression, increased appetite, hypervigilance, and sleeplessness. And they’ve resorted to using human test subjects to perfect the drug.”
“It’s like Unit 731 all over again,” Napoleon mused, setting his drink down as he examined a photograph of Amalia and Bernard Fernsby.
“Bernard Fernby was a former GI stationed in Germany. There, he became a neo-Nazi sympathizer. He’s been under our radar for a while, but enough proof to make a move on him has been hard to come by until now,” Waverly disclosed. “He was then stationed in the Philippines where he met and wed his young wife, Amalia. She hasn’t done anything worthy of suspicion, but don’t underestimate her,” he warned, “she is as intelligent and ambitious as she is beautiful. Together, they turned the Fernby family business of three generations into the empire it is today.”
“Jewelry and beauty. Sounds like the perfect combination for Cowboy,” Illya flippantly joked.
“You do flatter me, Peril,” Napoleon grinned in amusement.
“Teller and Kuryakin, you two will pose as a married couple looking to invest in their sales,” Waverly instructed. “And Solo, you’ll be working undercover as the married couple’s driver.”
Gaby failed to hide her snicker which earned a glare from Napoleon.
“I am aware of your… penchant for lovely women and expensive jewelry, Solo. Can’t have you getting too distracted on the job,” their commander explained. “But worry not, you’ll have plenty of time for your escapades in the evenings- so long as you don’t draw much attention to yourself.”
“Good luck with that,” Gaby teased.
“If there are no questions, that will be all. Pack wisely and efficiently. The plane leaves in,” Waverly pauses to check his watch, “three hours. Safe travels.”
*****
It was 8 pm when the trio landed in New York and 10 pm when they arrived at their hotel. Napoleon was thanking his lucky stars it was too late for the “married couple” to be working, which left him with some coveted free time. He reckoned the night was too young for his suit to go to waste.
The debonair American agent stepped out of the elevator and headed for the hotel doors. He had every intention of exploring the city until he heard a silky voice delivering a melody. His curiosity got the best of him as the voice beckoned, pulling him closer to the source. He wound up in the hotel lounge where he saw a woman dressed in a sophisticated gown crooning tantalizingly on stage. Her sultry tone serenaded him, and he knew he found the only entertainment he needed for the evening. He helped himself to a seat with a drink from the open bar in his hand and let himself be drawn to the songstress.
Napoleon observed that the chanteuse was tiny, even shorter than the mechanic, and couldn’t have been taller than five feet. Her stage presence, however, was as big as her resonant voice. He felt bad that he was the only audience member aside from an old couple, the bartender, and a few waiters who were able to witness her captivating performance. He figured the sparse crowd was because it was a Wednesday evening, but it was still a shame not more people could have appreciated the show. The singer’s set finished after a few minutes, and he hardly noticed how much time had passed.
She slowly descended the stage’s steps and headed straight or the striking gentleman in the suave suit. Her gut told her, the moment he walked into the lounge and entered her line of vision, that he wasn’t a safe person to associate with. There was something about his smug expression and bold stride that screamed danger, and yet there she was willfully approaching him. But then again, she wasn’t known to have much prudence or caution.
She leaned against his table and said, “Everyone else has gone. Why’d you stay?”
Napoleon scanned the area and confirmed the dame’s words. The old couple had retired for the night, leaving him the only audience member to revel in her presence. Upon a closer look, he noticed her eyes were narrow and upturned, suggesting a foreign background. “It would be awfully rude of me to see a beauty and not get acquainted with her, don’t you think?”
“Well, there is an open bar, and I have a few minutes to spare. What do you say?” she proposed.
He rose from his seat and offered her his arm, flashing her his most charming smile. “How could I ever refuse?”
“Does the gentleman have a name?” she asked him as she took a sip from her drink, examining him through her lashes.
Napoleon contemplated on what alias to give her for a second. He had a plethora to choose from, given the amount of years he’s been conning for a living. He didn’t have a specific one for the current mission, however, as he was supposed to be a low profile driver who could enjoy anonymity. Deducing the harmlessness of the singer, he settled with, “Napoleon.”
“Hmm,” she shook her head, “that’s a mouthful. How about… Leon?”
“You can call me whatever you like,” he told her as he absently swirled his drink. “Have you been singing here for a long time?”
“Yup. I just hit my fifth year, actually.”
“Oh wow,” he exclaimed in honest surprise. “I’m assuming you must get more audiences than earlier.”
She hummed in agreement. “Sometimes, on weekends and holidays, it gets so full that I stay longer than my setlist because of people’s requests.”
“Say I ask you to spend longer than a few minutes with me. Is that request you can fulfill?”
She chuckled and complimented him, “Smooth, but I can’t. I work graveyard shifts at the diner, unfortunately.”
“That is unfortunate. Do they not pay you enough here?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer.
“They do, but as you can tell from my attire, I like to indulge.”
“Pity.” He dramatically told her with a sly glint in his eyes, “I could have really indulged in a most enthralling evening.”
“You and your way with words,” she tittered as she got up from her seat. “Tell you what. If you’re still here in two days, maybe we could for a ride.”
“I do like the sound of that. Will you at least let me know your name?”
“Eula,” she replied. “And don’t be afraid to swing by the diner and tip graciously,” she added with a wink, turning around and making her way out of the building.
Napoleon smiled to himself as he replayed the memory of Eula walking out of the double doors, taking mental note of the way her dress hugged her figure. He gulped down the remainder of his drink and pulled out a thin intricate silver bracelet from his coat pocket. “Hope she doesn’t miss this much.”
