Work Text:
Napoleon looks over to Illya, sitting at Mister Waverly’s round table next to him, “Illya, do you have an ideal woman?”
Illya paused in reading the file Waverly had given him to look up at him over the frames of his tinted reading glasses, “I beg your pardon?”
“You know, an ideal woman. How would you describe your ideal woman?”
Illya rolled his eyes and shrugged, going back to his reading, “Can’t say I’ve thought about it all that much.”
Waverly looked up abstractedly as Lisa Rogers entered with a pot of coffee and three mugs as Napoleon was speaking.
“Mister Solo, is this going somewhere? And what has this to do with the case?” Waverly asked.
“Well, ah, it got kind of quiet in here while we were waiting for Intelligence to provide that documentation you asked for and I had a thought.”
“Well don’t hurt yourself,” Illya remarked as Lisa poured the coffee.
“So Napoleon,” she asked, “how would YOU describe your ideal woman?”
Illya and Waverly’s heads swiveled to look at Napoleon as he stifled a grin and gave it a moment’s thought.
“Well let’s see,” he started, lacing his fingers behind his head, “She would have to be smart. Brilliant is better, in fact. And brave - courageous is sexy. Strong-willed, yet flexible. Good sense of humor, but I like a touch of sarcasm.” He started.
Illya folded his arms, listening with arched eyebrows.
“Oh yes, and she has to be beautiful. Pretty is very good too, yeah. Preferably blonde and blue eyes. I’d have to marry her.”
There was a moment’s silence then Lisa spoke up, “You know, don’t you, you just described Illya.”
Napoleon’s gaped at her and was suddenly aware of Lisa’s and Waverly’s amused smirks.
He looked at Illya with a grimace, but Illya just regarded him soberly, “Where’s my ring?”