The city of Minsk was alive with the sound of cheering as the people of Belarus welcomed the winter with open arms. Gaby Teller, on the other hand, welcomed the winter with a blanket over her shoulders. She sat opposite her fellow agent, Napoleon Solo: an intelligent, quick-witted and well-built man with a taste for women in all countries. Next to Gaby on the couch, was the KGB's finest agent Illya Kuryakin. He was a tall, stoic man with broad shoulders and icy blue eyes to match his cold decisions. His temper, however, was fiery and didn't take much to be set ablaze. Gaby rests her head on Illya's shoulders, breathing in his scent.
Solo put down his drink and crossed his legs, rolling his eyes at the pair of agents in front him. "You love birds need to get a room."
"We have," Gaby laughed, "and you're in it."
"Touché." Solo picked up his drink again and winked at Gaby. Fortunately, Illya was too busy looking at his watch to notice. "It's our last night in Belarus. Saunders will be waiting for us."
Illya looked over at Solo. "Tomorrow, we are in my country. So we play by my rules." He smiles at Solo, raising an eyebrow.
Solo rolls his eyes and gets up from the couch. "Are you ready to leave then, Mother Russia?"
Illya shot daggers at Solo as he laughed. Gaby sighed and threw off her blanket, revealing a thick, woollen, winter dress. She shivers as the cold went through her. "I'm driving." She pouted, and stomped over to the door in her boots.
"As usual," Illya smiled at his girl, and headed to the door with her. "Do you know where the bar is?"
"No," Gaby grinned. "But details never stopped anyone."
Solo strolled over, joining them at the door. "Get a room." He sighed and opened the door, letting himself through before Illya and Gaby.