"The muscles in my face do work," he confirmed, though he punctuated it with a bit of a scowl. He wouldn't want to smile too much, now. Illya never would have guessed that he would feel this comfortable around a CIA agent either. They were supposed to be his sworn enemies, and yet just one mission together had shown him that not all Americans were terrible.
"I think you'll like it," he added cryptically, letting Napoleon decide whether he was talking about Sambo or about being thrown around by him.
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toboldlyrpg,