Napoleon Solo and his partner, Illya Kuryakin sat in the waiting room of UNCLE's Physical Therapy office and were forced to cool their heels. They'd been released from medical after their last assignment in Cypress and the damage was less than usual. Kuryakin tweaked his knee when he landed awkwardly after jumping from a jeep and Solo had re-aggravated a chronic back injury in a fight where he was knocked off a loading dock.
Under UNCLE's new medical policy, Section II agents were required to clear both medical and PT before being approved for active duty. While Solo had protested on behalf of Section II, he'd been completely outvoted. It was in that meeting that Solo learned his Section II agents were commonly referred to as "Peeds,".... short for "pediatrics" by the medical staff who thought some of their antics to be pretty juvenile. Section II agent's totally ignored prescribed PT treatments and were notoriously difficult for UNCLE's medical staff to deal with. Finally, Dr. Elizabeth Ray, UNCLE's Chief Medical Officer, put her foot down, even though she knew some of the behaviors were simply stress relief.
With the new policy, PT suddenly became a busy department. Unlike medical, the physical therapists were rather somber and grim in carrying out the agent's prescribed programs. Illya and Napoleon made a bet with each other with an expensive dinner going to the first one of them who could make one of the therapists crack a smile. Six months later, the bet was still on the table.
In PT room 1, Napoleon was in shorts, laying on one of the treatment tables. He'd drawn Jala this time around, a beautiful brunette with a stunning figure. Solo had worked with her two other times and felt sure that today was the day he would win his bet with Kuryakin.
"Ahhhhhhhhh, Jala.....I've been learning quite a bit about physical therapy these past two weeks," he began.
"On your left side, Mr. Solo." Jala ordered.
Napoleon rolled onto his left side with his left leg on the table and right leg bent at ninety degrees and twisted over to the surface of the table. His left arm was under his head and right arm draped over the table.
"Yes....yes...it's really quite interesting." Solo continued. "As I understand it, the first manipulation is called a "pre-thrust" and the second a "thrust." Then at the end, I believe it's called a "resolution." Is that right, Jala?" he asked with his most boyish charm.
Jala now had one hand on Solo's buttocks and the other hand on his shoulder. In response to this comment she pushed hard in opposite directions causing Solo's back to loudly pop. Napoleon yelped slightly in response.
"Mr. Solo." Jala said emotionless. "We need to proceed with work on the metacarpophalangeal joint in your back. To release the intra-articular tissue, I'll need to
repeat this manipulation in order to reduce the pressure in the joint cavities."
Solo was undeterred.
"Why, of course, Jala. My tissue is always completely at your disposal." Solo grunted as the therapist again jerked his shoulder and hip in different directions.
"Mr. Solo, please lie on your stomach, arms to the side and arch your head and shoulders up off the table while you lift your left leg. I'll tell you when to stop." Jala turned away to write on a clipboard.
"Um, Miss Woodsen.......... ah,............Miss Woodsen?" Solo said straining to hold the position after a minute or so.
Jala told Solo to release and then repeat the exercise raising his right leg. He grimaced as the seconds stretched into a minute and exhaled loudly when told to again release. Napoleon ceased the small talk as he recovered, only to feel the therapist slap 3 ice bags down on his bare back.
"Yikes!" Solo hissed.
Jala looked down at the agent. "You'll need to keep that on for 15 minutes Mr. Solo. Then you can dress and be dismissed. We'll see you back here tomorrow at 8:00 a.m." Jala said curtly as she exited the room.
Twenty minutes later, Napoleon caught up with Illya as he limped down the hall from his physical therapy appointment.
"Hey....Illya.....how 'bout it.....any luck?" Solo asked.
Kuryakin winced slightly as he walked. "None. You know, I think these therapy appointments make things worse than better. Carol really raked me over the coals today. How about you?"
Solo hated to admit defeat. "Well, no, not really, but I think I'm making progress."
Referring to the PT staff, Illya exclaimed. "And people say I'm cold and remote."
Eight hours later, in the apartment of Jala Woodsen, Carol Lankins and three other women from the PT staff sat with their feet up talking over the day. Since it was a Friday night, they were on their second pitcher of highly potent margaritas and were finally getting around to the nuts and bolts of their day. The topic, of course, Solo and Kuryakin.
"Oh my God," Carol started. "I almost totally lost it today with Illya. He was complimenting me on everything from my hair to my shoelaces!" The women leaned forward ready to hear more.
"Yeah well, let some of the rest of us have a turn with those two, will you Jala?" one of the girls pleaded.
"Hey, what can I say, rank has its privilege." The senior specialist laughed. "So Carol, what did you work on today?"
Carol beamed at her colleagues, took a big slurp of her drink and began the description. "Well, first we did some over all body warm-ups...and I do mean warm-ups. Have you seen that man's chest? I could sleep all night on that little piece of blond real estate!"
The women collapsed in laughter with hoots and whistles all around.
"Then we worked on some range of motion on that left leg of his. Lordy, the muscles on that boy...makes me wonder what some of his other muscles look like!" Carol tittered.
Again the room filled with catcalls and shrieks with every bit of detail Carol shared.
"Of course." She said slyly, "Being the consummate professional, I used both hands to manipulate his leg in all directions, making sure full range of motion gives Illya the most "functional ability" he can have."
One of the other therapists roared and grabbed her crotch suggestively. "I'll show ya functional ability, baby. Come here my little Russian babooshka!!"
The women howled and clapped their hands in approval.
"Ok, ok, c'mon" one of the girls said. "Give us the juicy details on Napoleon!"
"Well!" Jala said reaching for the pitcher to refill her drink. "He really almost had me today. Napoleon Solo actually told me about the three types of manipulations."
The room again erupted in fits of laughter with some of the women almost convulsed in giggles. Carol's mouthful of marguarita uncontrollably sprayed out of her mouth with this last comment.
"It's true." Jala egged the women on. "I nearly lost it. I had to turn away and pretend to write on my clipboard on that one. I think I bit my lip so hard it made my mouth bleed."
"So, what did you get to grab today?" Carol asked with a grin on her face.
"Oh, I worked him over pretty well. I walked right up, grabbed that gorgeous ass of his and started in on his low back. Of course, we all know that's an adjustment that requires a few tries." Jala roared to the cheers of the crowd.
"Hey, Carol." One of the other girls called out. "That's right up there with you stretching out Illya's groin a month ago!"
"Easy, girls." Jala countered. "I gotta tell you, I'd take a handful of Napoleon Solo's ass any day of the week and twice on Sunday!" The women raised their glasses, roaring their approval and toasted the sentiments of their boss.
Jala continued. "And chests are ok, but give me those sweet, sweet shoulders and hunky backside of UNCLE's CEA anytime, mama!" This time the group bellowed out their agreement and stomped their feet at the thought, whistling loudly.
"I don't know how you two do it." Said one of the women. "How can you possibly keep a straight face with those two?"
"Easy." Said Carol sitting back on the couch and putting her feet up. "I'm not paying for Jala's dinner at Maggianos!"
"Huh?"
"Yeah." Jala said addressing the group. "We made a bet. First one to crack a smile loses!!!"
END
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