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Napoleon groaned as he squeezed out of the front passenger window of the upturned rental vehicle.
“Illya, are you alright? You able to make it out?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” his partner said, having already made his way out. “I was concerned for you and your broad shoulders, but you seem to have made it out, as well.”
Napoleon gave him a look.
“I should thank you for managing to somehow get us to catch air on that ramp when we were trying to get away from those THRUSHies. For future reference, that’s a ramp, not a runway.”
“I did manage to elude them, did I not?” Illya pointed out.
Napoleon indicated the overturned car, which was right on the edge of an embankment that led to a lake.
“You nearly sent us over the edge!”
“Nearly is a far cry from actually over,” Illya countered. “Though I suppose we have a legitimate concern on what Mr. Waverly will say about this.”
Napoleon sighed, glancing at the car.
“Well, it could be worse,” he pointed out. “At least we’ll only be responsible for the damage to the roof…”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the metal frame of the car groaned as it turned away from Napoleon as gravity caught hold of it, continuing to roll down the embankment.
Feeling less smug now, Illya dashed to Napoleon’s side, the both of them watching, wide-eyed, as the car rolled into the lake, sinking.
Napoleon exhaled, realizing that their reimbursement fee had just skyrocketed.
“Don’t. Say. A word,” he said, flatly.
“It would appear you have said enough,” Illya deadpanned.
“…My jinxing it doesn’t absolve you from your crazy driving!” Napoleon retorted.
“I still got us away from the THRUSHies—and I will stand by that!”
And they bickered and bantered as they waited for backup, deciding that explaining the reimbursement expenses to Waverly could wait—at least until the mission was over.