Work Text:
Napoleon had been in the middle of attempting to file down the chain links of his handcuffs via the file attachment on the edge of the heel of his shoes when he heard a commotion coming from upstairs. It was quite an uncomfortable position to be in; hands behind his back while attempting to sit on his knees to allow for enough leverage to get some friction going between the file and his cuffs.
It had taken a considerable amount of time to get into this position as well, the cramped cell the Thrush agent had tossed him into was smaller than a supply closet. No matter which way he turned, one part of his body was uncomfortably pressed against the bars of the cell.
He almost had a steady rhythm going, but stopped as he heard loud footsteps approaching. Two Thrush agents? As they rounded the corner, he was both relieved and disappointed to see the person held in between their arms.
Relieved that Illya was here, alive, and probably had an escape plan for him. Disappointed that said plan had probably failed, and now Illya was most likely going to be shoved into this disgrace of holding cell.
One of the Thrush guards gave a knockout of a punch to Illya’s kidneys that had him doubling over and coughing. Napoleon glared as the guard approached. He gestured for Napoleon to stand up.
“Get up and turn around. No funny business,” He ordered, sneering. Napoleon spared a glance at Illya, who was still recovering from the hit, having almost fallen to his knees. He saw the gun leveled directly at his partner’s head and slowly stood and turned around.
“Surely, you don’t intend to keep both of us in here. That has got to be against Thrush’s code of conduct for treatment of prisoners,” Napoleon said before being roughly shoved against the back wall. His face was pressed against the bars and he knew there would be marks.
He was a little surprised when the guard roughly yanked his hands up, and Napoleon attempted to shift his weight to relieve some of the tension on his shoulder. He received a prompt cuff to the head that left his ears ringing as he collided with the metal bars of his cell.
After a moment, he felt his left wrists slip out of the cuffs, allowing him a brief respite, but that was quickly replaced as he felt Illya shoved in behind him. He heard the click of the handcuff and realized they had cuffed Illya to him. He considered briefly whether it would be worse to be back to back, but quickly abandoned that train of thought as soon as the guards stomped back upstairs.
He could feel Illya’s ragged breathing, his racing heart as the Thrush agents slammed the door closed behind them. The clang against the metal rang out, and Illya pressed impossibly closer.
“I take it the cavalry is still on its way?” Napoleon asked lightheartedly. Illya didn’t respond for a moment, collecting himself. He let out a sound that could have been a laugh or a wheeze.
“You’re looking at the cavalry,” He breathed out before attempting to scoot back away from his partner. He didn’t get very far before the bars of the cell were pressing into his back.
“Well, since it seems you will be here for a while, allow me to give you the grand tour. Over there is Mr. Arachnid’s breakfast nook, to the left is the bedroom with walk-in closet-” Napoleon began, attempting to bring up one of his heels to attempt to file down the cuffs.
“I should let you know that there is a bomb that will be detonating in -” Illya paused for a moment, muttering under his breath “Thirty minutes.”
Napoleon froze, taking in the information.
“Well it seems then, we should work on our egress strategy before time is up,” Napoleon said. He tried to crouch down, but found he was blocked by Illya, and only succeeded in pushing him into the opposite end of the cells.
“My plan was to plant the bomb, break you out, and then leave. However, one of the guards recognized I wasn’t one of the regular lab techs and brought me here,” Illya huffed.
“Can you bend down a little more? Try and get your wrist closer to my ankle,” Napoleon directed. He felt as Illya slid against him, and in any other situation, Napoleon would have relished in the feeling.
Napoleon was barely able to bring up his heel to the handcuffs, and there certainly wasn’t enough force to do any meaningful damage with the file.
“I should mention as well, I did manage to snag a vial of something from the lab. I’m hoping it’s hydrochloric acid,” Illya stated. Napoleon rolled his eyes; leave it to Illya to withhold information.
“You didn’t think to open with that?”
“It slipped my mind, what with the mild kidney infarction. It’s in my sock, but I can't reach it.”
Napoleon sighed and attempted to bring his arm down. He paused.
“You stored a potential acid in your sock?”
“They would have found it in my pockets! Now lean down a little more, you are almost there,” Illya instructed. Napoleon rolled his eyes as he twisted his arm back. He was going to be feeling this tomorrow, for sure. If they lived to see tomorrow, that is.
His fingers brushed against something slim and cool.
“My, Illya, are you sure that is a vial of potentially corrosive acid, or are you just happy to see me?” Napoleon asked, attempting a joke.
“Is now really the time for that?” He scoffed back.
“Just checking, no harm in that,” Napoleon said while sliding the thin test tube up. He felt the rubber stopper at the top and prayed it would be loose enough to get out with one hand.
Napoleon Solo was great with his hands, as many ladies (and the errant man) could attest to. However, his fingers were starting to go numb, and he could feel the sluggish pins and needles that worked up his arm. He would give anything to be in a yoga class right now.
“You’re going to have to bring your arm up so I can dump this out,” Napoleon said. He flicked at the stopper a few times before it finally popped off and hit the ground. At the same time, Illya shifted, pushing into Napoleon, who instinctively clutched the tube a little tighter. Some of the liquid splashed over the tube and landed on his hand.
He hissed as he felt the liquid burn; it was only a few drops but it did confirm that this was a pretty powerful acid. Medical would probably want to check him over when this was all over - which was always a pain.
“Good news, Illya. You did manage to grab something useful. Now, tell me where to go,” Napoleon said.
It was definitely risky, attempting to pour out the acid without looking, literally with one hand tied behind his back - but it was either this or letting the bomb take them out.
“Be careful with that - little to the left I think,” Illya said. Napoleon felt Illya push their linked hands to the left. “Start pouring.”
Napoleon slowly tipped the test tube, and when he didn’t hear Illya cry out, or demand he adjust his aim, he tipped it further.
“You got it! And it looks like you got some on your pants as well,” Illya noted.
“Oh, great - that should be easy to explain,” Napoleon said. He could hear a faint hissing from behind him, and after a minute, Illya tugged his arm back. The chains snapped with a small clink .
“Now to get out of here - is there a lock on the door?” Illya asked. Napoleon shook his head.
“Just the latch, near the lower half of the right side. They probably assume if they cram you in here you aren’t able to reach it,” Napoleon explained. Illya hummed thoughtfully as he shimmed and tried a few different angles to reach the latch.
“ETA of explosion?” Napoleon asked.
“Eh, close to fifteen minutes?” Illya guessed. He gave a triumphant laugh when he managed to finally get the door open. Both he and Napoleon tumbled out almost immediately after.
“Well, not that I don’t enjoy quality time with you, but what do you say we get out of here?” Napoleon asked, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. There were a few loud sounding pops that would have been concerning were there not more pressing matters to attend to.
Illya nodded, cracking his knuckles as he rushed up the stone stairs. He paused for a moment, looking back at Napoleon.
“One thing before we head out,” Illya said, looking down at Napoleon who was a few steps beneath him. Napoleon raised an eyebrow, what could possibly be more important than their immediate escape?
Illya smirked as he fisted Napoleon’s tie and tugged him up, planting a kiss on the other man’s lips. Napoleon couldn’t help but smile into the kiss - Illya did always have a thing for dangerous situations.
“How could you expect me not to, when you were so close before?” Illya teased.
“I suppose I can’t fault you for it,” Napoleon replied. “However, I am thinking about the extra room I’ll need tonight - you can meet me at mine, you need to experience the luxuries of a king size mattress.”
“I assure you, after today, a twin bed would feel more spacious than that cell.”
“Well, if you insist, partner.”
Over the next ten minutes, the two fought their way out of the underground Thrush facility until they were finally able to get topside and make a hasty retreat.
“And still time to spare… I shouldn’t have doubted the cavalry," Napoleon said once the two were clear of the abandoned warehouse that had been the front for Thrush’s more nefarious operation.
“All according to plan.”
“Now then, separate taxis back to HQ? If we’re lucky, we could be out before all of the take-out places are closed,” Napoleon said, trying to run through in his head how quickly he could get out of debrief and get medical clearance.
“Are you kidding? I’m not paying the full fare. We’ll split. You just stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.” Illya replied.
“Well, if you insist,” Napoleon said, attempting to make his appearance more presentable. And despite Illya’s warning of staying on their sides - as soon as the cab took off, Illya spread his legs and playfully knocked one of his knees against Napoleon’s.
“I’m sticking to my side, besides, haven’t we been close enough today? Possibly for the foreseeable future?” Napoleon joked.
“Mmm, no,” Illya replied back, a grin on his face. Napoleon rolled his eyes, but allowed Illya’s leg to remain close to him. Besides, compared to their earlier arrangements, this wasn’t bad at all.
“Wake me up if I fall asleep, will you,” Napoleon said, rolling his neck before letting his head rest against the window of the taxi. He heard Illya’s non-committal hum, and took that as an affirmative.
Despite the somewhat bumpy ride, Napoleon was asleep with Illya’s leg pressed against his within minutes.