InsaneJournal

Napoleon had been doing his damnedest to avoid Illya after his unexpectedly honest non-confession about how he would have sex with his partner. And while he wasn't sure if the other man had noticed how there was a lack of an Napoleon shaped annoyance in his life at the moment or not, he had been hiding out in areas of the ship he didn't think the other man would find him.

It wasn't that he was afraid of what would happen if they met each other in person again, if there would be a weirdness between them because Illya was Not That Way and Napoleon refused to admit anything resembling Feelings, but Napoleon just didn't have the emotional capacity to deal with such a charged conversation. Not yet, anyway, though under his friendship with both Darcy and Rogue, he was starting to grow as a person.

Yes, it happened about twenty years later than it should have, but at least it was happening.

But that was the reason he was sitting in the corner of the Lounge, drinking by himself as he looked over the lesson plan he was developing for the accounting and math course he was hoping to teach. Teaching the material to Rogue showed him exactly what he needed to improve upon and what was working. He expected to begin soon, possibly the following week once he made his changes.

The Lounge was filling up quickly that night and the noise level was rising with laughter and conversation. It was getting a bit distracting, so Napoleon finally decided it was time to call it a night with the self-imposed "homework," and see if there were any prospects to flirt with that night. As he slid out of his corner and turned back around to face the table so he could gather his teaching material, he unintentionally bumped into someone.

Immediately he turned around to apologize with a smile on his face. “I’m sorry, that was clumsy of me. Are you okay?”

Mary had just finished her shift in the Traveler Liaison Office and had gone to the Lounge for a cocktail. The place didn’t have quite the same vibe now that Lucifer was gone. It was a pity, but the drinks were still good. Her choice that night was a dry martini. A tiny bit of it spilled over the rim of the glass when the man bumped into her.

Really, Mary had been walking too close to him, even if she hadn’t expected him to back up at that second. She took a step backwards, trying to gather herself. “Yes, quite alright,” she replied. Glancing up, she noticed it was the handsome man she had first seen on the network. Her lip quirked into a slight smile. “Mr. Solo, yes?”

The smile on Napoleon’s face turned more genuine as he took in the sight of the woman before him. He remembered her from when he first arrived on the Enterprise and how he had felt less like a fish out of water when he realized people from time periods before him had adjusted to life on a starship. She had been kind.

“Lady Crawley,” he said, tone a touch too pleased. “I’m honored you remember my name. I never did come see you about those questions and I see that, clearly, was a mistake.” He swiftly pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket’s breast pocket and reached for the hand that had the spilled martini on it. “May I?” He asked, clearly asking to clean up after the mess he had caused.

Mary gave him a warm smile as she extended her hand to him. “You’re a difficult man to forget, Mr. Solo.” He was effortlessly suave and charming, and of course quite strikingly handsome. Mary was a happily taken woman, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t still look and enjoy… and perhaps flirt a bit too. It was harmless, really. Howard had captured her heart anyway.

“I appreciate your kindness,” she said as Napoleon wiped her hand.

Taking his time as he wiped up her hand with firm passes of the handkerchief, he let his hand linger to dispel any thought it was by accident that he was hanging onto it a touch too long.

“I didn't plan to make our first meeting this memorable, but I'm still glad to run into you.” Offering an arm, he asked, “May I take you to get you a new drink?”

Well then. Mary didn’t say anything, but of course she noted how long his fingers caressed hers. Fortunately, Howard wasn’t in the lounge that night or he might have a few words for Napoleon.

“I would love that,” she replied, taking his arm. “Thank you. Being so charming, that must be a natural part of your job, isn’t it?” A smile crossed her lips.

“I wouldn't say it's a necessary part,” he explained, grinning. “If it were, my partner Illya would have been out of luck.” With a wink, he added, “It doesn't hurt to have this particular skill set.”

Arriving at the bar he pulled a stool out with his free hand and bowed slightly as he offered the chair to her. “Tell me, Lady Crawley, do you come here often?”

“Ah, yes, the big Russian. I have met him. He was actually quite polite.” Once one got beyond how physically imposing he was anyway. Mary sat on the offered stool and laughed lightly at his question. “There aren’t many other places on the ship to go, are there?” she replied. She had a few favorite simulations in the holodeck and the observation deck was always nice, but that was about it. The Enterprise didn’t offer much for aesthetic views.

The big Russian was an apt way of putting it. It still made Napoleon grin, hearing Illya described that way. It was wholly accurate and yet, there was so much behind the front that the other spy put up. “I’m just surprised that I haven’t run into you, quite literally in this case, before,” he explained, taking the seat next to her. Tapping the glass of her spilled drink to get the attention of the bartender, he gestured for two more of the same, as he turned his attention back to her. “If I may be so bold, what is it that you do on the ship?”

“I work in the Traveler Liaison Office,” she answered. “Most often I help people become acclimated to the ship or answer any questions that they have. It’s a bit of an odd job for me, considering that I don’t think I’ll ever be fully acclimated to the ship myself.”

She found that it occupied her time though. Without a job, she would probably go stir crazy. The bartender placed a new martini in front of her and she thanked him.

“Oh! You must know Rogue then. I believe she does something similar,” he said, thanking the bartender for the drink and lifting the glass for a toast. “Though I don’t blame you for feeling like a fish out of water. I’m still finding myself amazed at this ship and all of the different sort of people here.” The diversity of the Enterprise, thankfully, allowed him to be freer with his own personal identity, but it was still bit of an eye opening experience for him to live in a place and time where he didn’t have to be so guarded.

Mary clinked her glass against his and then took a sip of her martini. “Yes… I think Rogue works with the Morale Team, which is similar, but not the same entity as the Traveler Liaisons.” Their job was more to plan social events. It was probably good that Mary didn’t try to plan the social events on the ship. The things she found entertaining were rather old fashioned. “Do you have a job here, Mr. Solo?” she asked.

Following her lead and taking a sip of his drink, Napoleon approved of the drink before taking another, less modest sip. Throat working as he swallowed, he nodded. “I'd say so. It's more of something to do with my spare time, but I intend to teach a class on basic accounting and mathematics.”

Her ears perked up a bit at that. “Really? Back home, I was in charge of my family’s estate. I managed all of the books - both accounts paid and received.”

Mary had no formal training in accounting at all. She’d never been to university. Most women in her position didn’t go. However, she’d always had a head for numbers. Maths had been her best subject with the governess. It was only natural that she would handle the accounts for the estate.

“Sounds like you're a woman of many talents, Lady Crawley. Did you ever go to school or were you self taught?” Napoleon asked, leaning against the bar. He knew that she was from a few decades before him and that it was only just in his time period that women were gaining more freedoms. Mary could easily have gone to formal school or not, given that she had a certain status.

“No formal schooling,” she replied, “unless you count the governess.” Mary didn’t. “Papa knew that I was clever at maths, so he worked with me a bit as well. I’ve always liked it. I think I would like to take your class.” It certainly couldn’t hurt, even if she wasn’t going back to Downton any time soon. Replicators unfortunately made a lot of finance and accounting jobs obsolete on the ship. “Where did you learn accounting?” Mary asked.

Lips turned up into a smirk, he ruefully explained, “University. I took the course because I had a free spot and a young man that I had been smitten with was taking it. I ended up liking it and made a degree out of it.”

At the words ‘young man’ Mary looked up at him sharply, though she managed not to say anything about them. In her time on the ship, she had learned that people were not always what they seemed, and that sexuality was much more fluid here than it was in her own time. That said, she hadn’t expected Napoleon to be gay. He was so flirtatious with her. Perhaps he was one of those people who liked both men and women.

“It can be incredible how things turn out,” she said before taking another sip of her martini. “I didn’t think I would enjoy the financial side of running the estate at first.”

It was hard to not catch her immediate reaction that he had been attracted to a man. He tried not to take offense to it, knowing that back even in his time it wasn't a widely accepted preference. But it was hard to not let his smirk die down considerably and adopt a more neutral expression.

But he pressed forward because she was a product of a different time period and was trying to be more mindful of that. Eyebrows raised and with a bit of intent in his voice, “Well, I do hope you decide to join us in the class. I might be able to teach you a thing or two still, Lady Crawley.”

“Maybe so,” she replied, deciding that he was trying to flirt with her again. “About accounting, at least.” Perhaps Napoleon just had good taste, and that extended to both men and women. Mary couldn’t really argue with that.

“Just accounting?” He asked, trying to gauge her level of reciprocity. Napoleon was a flirt, but only when it was welcomed - or, at least, when it wasn't discouraged.

“I’m afraid so,” she replied, feeling at least a bit rueful. “Mr. Stark would probably have words with you otherwise.” The cocky inventor had managed to steal most of Mary’s heart away. She was true to him, even in the face of an exceptionally good-looking man. Not that she didn’t find Howard good-looking in his own unique way.

“That's bad luck for me then.” Napoleon didn't look too heartbroken over it, but that's because his ego understood it more when there were significant others involved. “Though that doesn't change the fact that I'm looking forward to seeing you in my class.”

Probably also because there were a lot of other good-looking people on the ship for him to choose from. Surely he wouldn’t want for company for very long. “I’m looking forward to your class as well,” she confirmed, “so long as you don’t give a lot of homework.”

“Ah. That would be telling, Lady Crawley. You'll just have to show you and find out,” Napoleon teased. Finishing his drink, he rose from his seat. “I think I'll turn in early tonight.” Holding out a hand to take one of hers, he leaned down to kiss the back of it. “I do have to say, Mr. Stark is one lucky man.”

Mary allowed him to kiss her hand and then smiled at him. Hopefully his departure didn’t have to do with her rejection. It was truly because she was happily taken and not because she didn’t find Napoleon intriguing. “He is,” she replied. “I am a lucky woman as well. I hope that you won’t be a stranger, Mr. Solo.”

“Oh I have no intention to be. I'll be seeing you soon,” he said, inclining his head in farewell. Briefly returning to his old table to pick up his school materials, he soon departed from the Lounge, fully intending on seeing Lady Crawley before long.