Lisa Rogers, April Dancer and two other women from U.N.C.L.E. were sitting in the back booth of the bar. It had been a long week and the four women were enjoying the evening with silly stories and good drinks. They all suddenly burst into laughter.
"It wasn't funny," Carol said, "I looked up and he was standing right in front of me. My face must have turned twelve different shades of red."
Lisa wiped the tears of laughter from her face.
"Don't sweat it, Carol," she said laughing, "Everybody has the odd fantasy at work. Did he say anything?"
"Actually I don't think he noticed."
The women laughed again.
"Fantasies are fun," April said, "I think we've all had fantasies about guys at work."
The women looked at one another and smiled.
"Napoleon Solo!" all four said together.
Sandy cleared her throat.
"Who else!" she said, raising her glass.
The women clinked their glasses together.
"Nice body, handsome face," Sandy added, "He has to be the sexiest man in New York."
"Try the country. I don't know why he works for U.N.C.L.E. instead of going to Hollywood," Carol added.
"What about you Sandy?" Lisa said, "Ever think about N. S.?"
"Is Illya Russian?" she answered, "I would love to see Napoleon married, to me of course. Think about it. Having him all to yourself. I can see him coming home from saving the world, still full of energy. Of course we would have to live in a sound proofed studio apartment."
"Definitely sound proof," April said giggling
"But why a Studio?"
"Saves time running to the bedroom!"
They all began to laugh.
The stories continued, getting more lurid as they went along. At one point the barkeep asked them to keep their voices down. Other patrons were getting slightly disturbed by their choice of topic. This only made them laugh more.
"Alright April," Lisa said, "Lets have it. What is your fantasy about Napoleon Solo?"
The young woman's face turned so deep red it looked like she had busted all the blood vessels. The other three looked at her.
"I would love to have him as my slave," she said.
"Napoleon to wait on you hand and foot," Sandy said with a heavy sigh.
"I don't think that's the kind of slave she means," Lisa said.
A collective "woo-oo" went up from the table.
"Pray Miss Dance, do continue," Carol said, "And don't spare the details."
"Okay. Picture Napoleon, tall, firm chest, broad shoulders bare skin. Leather collar..."
The heat in the corner booth began to rise.
"Spread eagle, letting me do what ever my heart desires. Then role reversal. He has the reputation for his love-making skills that are almost fantasy themselves..."
They saw Lisa shake her head slightly. She was the only one of the four who had gone out with Solo, after all.
"Believe me," Lisa said, "What you heard is not fantasy. Napoleon's approach to sex is like an artist approaching a blank canvas, a musician composing his most sacred work. He takes nothing for granted and he isn't afraid to tell a woman what he feels or what he needs. Go on April."
"Yeah go on," the other two said.
April blushed as she pictured Solo in her fantasy.
"Like I said, he would have to ready when I called so the less hampered by clothing the better. Leather collar, I said that, and nothing else but a nice leather g-string."
Sandy and Carol nearly fell out of the booth. Sandy took a piece of ice from her glass and rubbed it against her neck. Then all three noticed an amused look on Lisa's face.
"Alright Lisa," April said, "Spill it..We can only dream. You've lived the fantasy. What is so funny?"
"I was just thinking," Lisa said, "About Napoleon in a leather g-string. Not really feasible."
The other three looked at her.
"He can't be that modest," Sandy said.
"Its not that," Lisa said blushing, "Just,..ah how can I phrase this, putting Napoleon Solo in a g-string....well it's a lot like trying to put a THRUSH rifle in a shoulder holster."
April, Sandy and Carol stared at her their mouths open, chins on the table. The three women held out their hands and made mock bows towards Lisa Rogers.
"We are not worthy of sitting in the same booth with you," they said continuing to bow, "We will never be able to look at him again without that image in our minds."
The woman laughed and lifted their glasses once again.
"To Napoleon Solo," April said, "For all of the hours of pleasure you give us, even if it is just in our minds. You are indeed the most handsome and, ah, most healthy man we know. You will never know just how much we appreciate having you around. To Napoleon Solo."
"To Napoleon Solo," they all said together.
They all touched glasses and took a drink.
In the booth that backed onto theirs, Napoleon blushed. He raised his glass in one hand, his other he lifted to his face, his fingers against his lips.
He blew a kiss in their direction then took a modest sip from his glass.
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