Illya Kuryakin peeked underneath his partner’s desk with a look of amusement.
“Are you comfortable Napoleon?”
“Shush,” Solo whispered.”I don’t want anyone to know I’m in here.”
“Oh for pity’s sake, just man up! It is your own fault you are in this predicament.”
“And why is it my fault?” Napoleon pulled himself from beneath the desk, though he remained out of view behind it.
“You date too much and now all your paramours expect you to lavish them with gifts for Valentine’s Day.”
“You’re right.” Solo squeezed back under the desk.
"See you in the morning," Illya chuckled.