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The Lethal Lipstick Affair.

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The Ambassadors reception was a great success.
Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the sound of a small orchestra playing was heard.
The rooms were filled with happy smiling people the cream of European society…

Kuriakin’s cover gave him access to all areas…but Illya was not a natural waiter…
He thought he would explode if one more petain..put a half-eaten canapé back on the tray….
He entered the kitchen and picked up a tray of champagne instead…

He was waiting for his partner…

Solo had been under cover for five days now and they had had no contact…he was expected here this evening…
Illya wasn’t worried exactly but he was looking forward to seeing him…

The queue on the staircase to be announced, was long, and Illya had refilled his tray twice more before he heard the words…

“Countess Marcella Mercutio and guest…"

Illya looked up and there was Solo…suave, sleek, polished, his shirt gleaming white against the dark tuxedo.

The Countess was hanging onto his arm as they entered the room. She leaned up and kissed Solo on his lips.
Illya gripped the tray he was carrying…Solo seemed very immersed in his part.

He circled round the pair until he had an opportunity to speak…
“Bathroom to the left five minutes.”

Solo looked blankly at him…
Solo looked blank altogether…
What was wrong with him?

Illya stepped away, he watched Solo from a distance…
He looked unlike himself…dead behind the eyes…

Illya watched the pair for some time…he noticed Solo talking to people…being his usual charming self,
then the woman would get close, brush her lips on his and Solo would be gone again…blank…

After watching for a while he waited till Solo seemed more himself then when he entered the bathroom Illya went too…

“Cowboy It’s me come on…are you hypnotised…? What’s wrong with you…?"

Solo seemed to recover at the name…”Cowboy…Ilya? What’s going on

One of the Countess’ henchman opened the door…
“She want’s you now…come on…”

Illya ducked his head, pretended to wipe the basin as Napoleon left with the goon…

Illya swore softly and succinctly in Russian…
“Now I have to rescue you again…”

He followed Solo and the woman through the remainder of the evening .
He lost them for a while, then caught them again by the door as they were leaving.

He slipped out and when they called for their car he arrived in the driving seat.…

He hoped to get Napoleon alone, but ever the gentlemen, he had ushered the Countess into the car before him.
When he got in himself Illya sped off leaving the two goons behind.
The Countess fearing a kidnapping kissed Solo once more before leaping from the car as Illya slowed at a corner.

Solo was slumped in the back seat…Illya shouted at him for the remainder of the journey…first in English…”Come on Solo wake up what is wrong with you?” Then louder in Russian with more swearing.

He slung Solo over his shoulder and carried him up to his own room. He dumped him on the bed.

Solo stirred. “Who, what, what’s going on?”

“I’m your partner Illya…you call me Peril, sometimes…you are an undercover operative, a spy…”

Solo shook his head not believing.

Illya slapped him on the face a couple of times but he really didn’t want to hurt him so they definitely weren’t hard enough to bring Solo out of whatever was holding him…likewise the glass of water that Illya tried next…

He sat down on the bed…
He thought about what he’d seen during the evening…
The Countess had constantly touched Napoleon…kissed him…perhaps it was that…touching…kissing…gave her control…

Illya bent and pressed his lips to Solo’s…he gently ran his tongue over Napoleons lips opening up his mouth…
thrusting his tongue inside…mapping his mouth…he sucked on SoIo’s tongue…
Solo gave in with a moan…”Mmm... Illya…Mmm…”

He opened his eyes wide…”Illya?”

“ The Contessa had you hypnotised…with her lips…every time she kissed you, you were under her spell…”

Solo shook his head…”Not her lips…the lipstick…it must have been drugged…thanks for coming to get me…"

He rolled them over so he was on top…kissing Illya over and over…tasting…teasing…he slid his hands under Illyas shirt.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Are you sure, because you kissed that witch…many, many times.”

“I was drugged.”

“Not the first time.”

“Work, Illya, only work. Part of the job.”

He kissed Illya again.

Illya moaned with pleasure…he’d missed Napoleon…missed his hands…missed his lips…his co…

“Damn” Solo leapt off the bed.
“She did it…she hypnotised me into stealing the plans. We have to get them back…
He pulled Illya up and kissed him quickly…”Remember where we are…”

“Room twenty seven…”Illya’s accent was thick with passion…

“No. Where We are…at this moment…so we can take up where we left off…so we can…”

He left off as Illya’s cheeks flushed a little…

Was the Red Peril blushing…?