Entry tags:

gaby teller | man from uncle, napoleon solo | man from uncle

WHO: Napoleon Solo & Gaby Teller
WHEN: 226412.11, night (Backdated)
WHERE: Risa: TMFU Bungalow
SUMMARY: Gaby and Napoleon dinner + dancing, attempt #2.
WARNINGS: None

After Napoleon's carefully thought out dinner plans with Gaby that evening - a beautiful set up on beach with candles and a private enclosure away from prying eyes - they had set out for a dance hall that Napoleon had thanked his lucky stars in finding. It had been a lot more tame in comparison to the club that they had went to on their previous outing and it didn't end in a brawl breaking out. All in all, it had been a pleasant evening and much more intimate than their previous interactions.

They had known each other for months at this point and it was noticeable that they were growing closer. But tonight had been something else altogether. Napoleon kept finding excuses to be close to her, to have his hand on her shoulder or the small of her back whenever he could. And she allowed it, letting her guard down gradually, just as he did. He was flirtatious as always, but he seemed much more sincere in his actions and words than he had ever been previously.

There was a marked change that even, similar to those charged moments between them in the past. They were speaking in almost hushed tones as they made their way back to the bungalow they shared with Illya and Rogue. Once they were docked and back inside, they lingered outside of their shared bedroom.

"I had a good time tonight," Napoleon said, leaning against the wood of the bedroom door as he peered down at her with dark eyes. She looked gorgeous in the moonlight that was streaming in from the floor to ceiling windows that made up the living room exteriors.

--

Gaby had been impressed with Solo's efforts. She had been warned by Waverly after Solo and Illya had inserted themselves into his op that the American operative was a serial womanizer. But very early on in their relationship, Gaby had learned to pick up on the sincerity amidst his brazen flirtatiousness. Over their months together, she had grown quite fond of his warm and light-hearted demeanor. It was an interesting contrast from the nature of their work, and spending time with the man had become something of a routine way of winding down after a trying day. But more recently, they had grown closer still in the shared experience of being someplace new and inconceivable and of encountering an Illya from before they had come together as a proper team.

So when they arrived at the beach to Solo's magnificent spread, Gaby was quick to joke about bearing witness to Napoleon Solo's infamous wooing abilities. Humor was a way of deflecting attention away from the apparent intimacy of the evening, a frequent technique of hers that would not be lost upon Solo. He could even think of it as a compliment. The dance hall was much more in tune with her comfort zone than the club had been. It felt like ages since she had last danced, really danced, and in her enjoyment of the atmosphere and the company, she had let her carefully constructed guard fall to the wayside.

Now, standing in the moonlight with him after a magnificent night, she smiled brightly up at him. "Of course you did. I am excellent company."

--

Through the time they had spent getting to know each other, it was easy to tell that despite the joking around Gaby did about the dinner he had planned out, that she was mildly impressed and a bit flattered by all the length he had gone to make this happen. He wanted to make up for the other night because even though it had been amusing to get in the middle of a brawl, it hadn’t been a successful evening as far as anyone was concerned.

And attempt number two was going much, much better.

He laughed at her immodesty - and why should she be modest? She was amazing company. “I loathe to see this night come to an end. I haven’t had fun like that in awhile.” He reached out to brush some hair that had fallen in front of her face, hand lingering a little longer than he had meant it to.

--

Gaby's smile broadened at the sound of his laughter. "I was beginning to worry it might be impossible for us to have an uneventful night out, but you certainly know how to show a gal a good time. Consider it an open invitation, any time you would like to do it again." She followed the movements of his hands with her eyes, her cheeks reddening slightly at his lingering touch. She hoped the darkness would hide her blush, which deepened slightly at the memory of the way his hands had felt on her waist, or his fingers brushing against hers. Solo was always a tactile person, but there was a kind of determination tonight that was not lost on Gaby. Nor, she had discovered, was it unwelcome. A large part of her wanted to retreat back to the safety of the emotional wall she usually held in place, for her protection as a person and also a member of a working team. But they were very obviously not on a mission, and, it was possible, would never be again. What was there to gain from maintaining the prior status quo? What was there to lose?

--

Napoleon could argue that there was a lot to lose - most importantly, her friendship. He didn’t have friends, not many anyway, none like her. And that was part of the reason why he was so hesitant to act on what he obviously now knew as feelings for Gaby. The other big part had been the giant Russian they both referred to as their partner.

It had been obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of them had been on the brink of something during their Rome mission. And as much as he thought the two of them were better for each other than he was for either of them, had tried to push them toward each other back home during their missions after Rome, it really didn’t matter now. Because now it was quite obvious Rogue and Illya were an item. And as complicated as his own feelings for the blond was, again, it was a non-issue since Illya was obviously romantically engaged elsewhere.

So instead of continuing to make himself miserable, instead of the indecisiveness and letting these charged moments dissipate because he was afraid of the consequences, he took a chance. He made plans, he executed them, and now he didn’t stop himself as he watched the pretty flush spread out across her face.

“Don’t be surprised if I take you up on that invitation,” he warned, palm coming to cup her cheek. “Gaby…” He trailed off, not knowing what to say as he stared into her deep, brown eyes. So he let his actions do the talking, as he leaned forward to press his lips to hers.

--

It had been easier for Gaby to disengage from her feelings for Illya when it had seemed necessary. Because yes, she could admit to herself at least, that there had been something stirring there, back when she thought she would never see him again. But when she had been unexpectedly thrown into a continuous partnership with him, it seemed unwise to pursue anything further. She and Illya had grown closer as time progressed, but their relationship had remained strictly platonic. Which is why she had been especially thrown by the discovery that he had taken up with the young woman whose resemblance to her was more than uncanny. Her uneasiness receded some upon further acquaintance with Rogue, whom she was surprised to find that she rather liked. It did nothing to relieve the lingering questions that Illya and Rogue's relationship ignited in Gaby's mind, but it certainly seemed an effective way for her to continue in a platonically-based relationship with this Illya as well.

The same could not be said for her burgeoning feelings for Napoleon. What had begun as a platonic friendship on her end had somehow developed into something more. She was not sure if it had begun upon her arrival aboard the Enterprise, or if her feelings had taken root earlier, in that unasked for way that emotions do. She had been aware of Solo's attraction to her, had read between the lines of his handsome smiles and flirtations, but had never considered that there was any weight behind them until more recently. And now that there was nothing to stop them from exploring those emotions, except perhaps their own uncertainty, it seemed as if Solo had decided to take the risk, daring Gaby to do the same.

Without thinking, she raised her chin to receive his kiss. Owing to his warning about sand, she had worn flat sandals and had to rise onto her toes to reach him.

--

The position was a bit awkward, there was quite a bit of difference between them in height. But it didn’t matter, this kiss between them was perfect in all its imperfection. The one hand on her cheek stayed there, while the other hand made its way to the small of her back, to pull her closer, to deepen the kiss. He wanted to take this further, make up for the time they had refused to acknowledge that the moments between them could have been more.

But he restrained himself, knowing that she was too important to him to push this too quickly. Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, he pulled away just slightly. “I’d like to keep kissing you,” he explained, lips brushing hers as he spoke, his eyes intense. “But…” he trailed off, not knowing how to explain what kissing her further would mean.

--

Blood rushed in her ears as their lips met and his warm hand pressed against her back. With one hand, she reached up to trail her fingers along the the edge of his firm jaw, while the other lay flat on his chest, threatening to grab hold of his shirt in her fist to pull him closer. She probably would have done, had he not pulled away when he did. As he spoke, she let her hand fall down to join her other one on his chest. She peered up into his blue eyes with that stare of hers, as if she might read his thoughts there. "But..." she repeated, as if his own doubts had been passed down to her. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were pressed up against their bedroom door with the taste of one another on their lips. She hesitated, then took a small step back.

--

He didn’t want her to step away, but he knew that if they were going to do anything, it would have to be slower than the rate this was threatening to go. For the sake of preserving their friendship, if nothing else. “I think we should put a pin in this for now,” he said, reaching out to catch her before she moved too far away. “Because I would very much to continue this, but I like you much too much to just rush into things.” He didn’t like being logical, he wanted to let the passion of the moment consume them, but it was quickly passing by and to go back to it would make this more awkward than it had to be.

Napoleon stepped closer, to bridge the distance between them. Carefully, slowly so she could pull away if she wanted to stop, he kissed her again, less deep, less with intent. It was soft, a gentle kiss, almost innocent, before he pulled away again. There was nothing innocent about the way he licked his lips after. “I think we should say goodnight for now.” This time, he stepped back a little, looking like he was going to head toward the soft in the living room.

--

Those were not the words she had expected him to say. The fact that he was giving way to reason over passion was both a surprise and yet it wasn't, for it meant that she had not misread his intentions with her. There was still a feeling of hesitation in the possibility of pursuing this, but less so upon this realization. By way of a response to his declaration, she made no effort to pull away when he kissed her again, and she even smiled and rolled her eyes playfully at the way he licked his lips. "That is some goodnight," she replied softly. When it appeared as if his intention was to camp out on the living room sofa, she reached out to open their bedroom door. Catching his eye, she motioned inside with a nod of her head. She knew the both of them were going to be rehashing the events of the evening and the ensuing awkwardness in their minds for most of the night. They may as well do it in the same room.

--

Napoleon was surprised that she was okay with allowing him into their room, but also, not really. She was capable of separating feelings from practicality, he had seen that first hand with her and Illya. But this was a whole new beast, something he wasn’t sure how to handle. But he knew it started with following her inside into their room. Everything else could wait until morning, or however long it took for them to get back to this moment and figure out what the next step would be.