section7mfu | "Father's Day" (Reply)

It was Father’s Day and one of the few occasions, along with Mother’s Day, Christmas and Easter that Alexander Waverly made a concerted effort to keep himself available to his family.

Through the years his wife Estelle had become quite accustomed to her husband’s late and long hours, and their children always seemed happy despite the lack of their father’s presence.

The holiday was not of any great import to Alexander; he didn’t need cards and neckties but on the contrary, it was his son and daughter who needed them. They needed to show him they cared. He loved them with all his heart and they him, but because of their upbringing; the children tended to be a little more on the reserved side when it came to ‘father.’ Being able to give him gifts on a special day meant a lot to them.

Father’s Day was a day when the curtain was raised and all proprieties were pushed aside, along with the living room furniture. Besides the gifts, and home made cards the children always prepared a little play for their father. Their creativity never ceased to amaze him, and they were in truth, his delight...along with their mother.

Tom and Florence were lovely, obedient and happy from all indications. They were at times a little distant as they weren’t accustomed to their father being around all the time as other children were. It didn't take long for that to change, and Waverly found himself engaged by their smiles and laughter

When at home Alexander gave them his attention and adoration. He didn’t try to bribe them with gifts, but showered them with his affection. He'd regale them with tales of derring to from his past, and later about some of his agents at UNCLE, though he'd leave the death and violence out of it.

Being a proper British gentleman; he had been raised himself in a household where one should not be seen or heard. His father, the Colonel, was rather a self-centered person and having a son to deal with was left up to the the nanny and the staff.

Alexander could barely recall his mother as she’d died when he was but a toddler. There came a few stepmothers after that, and several ‘aunties’, none of whom had any interest in him whatsoever.

If it hadn’t been for the affection of the servants and being able to play with their children, Alexander Waverly would have had a miserably lonely existence.

When the day came that he married, young Alexander made a promise to himself to show his children all the affection he’d craved from his own father. His chosen profession however, working British Intelligence, didn’t always make for a regular home life, but he and Estelle managed.

When their first born arrived, Thomas, named after Estelle’s late father; his wife handled being alone with typical English aplomb. She was his dear girl, God bless her, and he never missed an opportunity to tell her that. Patience of a saint and so on...

As the years passed, they were blessed with a second child...a daughter. They named her Florence. It was the city where Alex was on assignment when she was born.

And now here it was how many years later? Tom and Florence were all grown up with children of their own. They were gathered at the Waverly compound in Connecticut to celebrate Father’s Day.

It had always been a day the family looked forward to as it was guaranteed Alexander Waverly would be with his little brood, in spite of the goings on in the world.

He walked up the steps to his home, removing his hat before retrieving his keys and opening the front door.

Behind him walked his top agents, Solo and Kuryakin, who'd drawn escort duty today.

The front door opened and out burst a gaggle of giggling children...Waverly’s grandchildren.There were smiles all around as they ushered grandfather inside.

A little blonde tyke lagged behind, giving Napoleon a shy smile as she held out her hand for him to take. It was the youngest grandchild nicknamed 'Tootsie' becasue she was so sweet and she had a crush on Solo.

“Like moths to a flame, at any age,” Illya half smiled,” I know, I know... when you have got it, you have got it and you have it.”

Napoleon grinned from ear to ear. “Finally have it right tovarisch don't you?” To which Illya responded with a his usual roll of the eyes.

Florence and Tom extricated their father from the children, each giving him their greetings and kisses.

“Happy Father’s Day,” they both said together.” The children are all excited as they’re reviving a family tradition for you...they have a play all planned after luncheon. We think it's based on 'A Midsummer's Night Dream. Lot's of fairy wings and fairy dust from what we hear."

“Well then this is a happy Father’s Day indeed,” Waverly’s bushy eyebrows raised at the news.

“Napoleon, Illya, so good to see you both, ”Estelle Waverly gave her attention to them after greeting her husband. “Please make yourselves comfortable in the den, help yourselves to drinks...you know the way. Lunch will be served shortly outside on the patio.”

The agents thanked their hostess and disappeared as instructed while the Waverly family enjoyed their time together giving their gifts and cards. It had been some times since the grandchildren were around so lots of catching up was in order.

“You know tovarisch, we should only be this lucky some day,” Napoleon said as he poured himself a scotch on the rocks. His father's day phone conversation with his own dad had been brief, as usual. The senior Solo, a former military man, wasn't exactly fond of such nonsense as he called it. His sons had been shipped off to private school, and it was more of a case of 'out of sight, out of mind,' parenting. Napoleon's sisters remained home as they were under the protective wing of mother.

“One could only hope my friend,” Illya nodded as he poured not vodka, but a small glass of Jameson Irish whiskey for himself.

He'd long since stopped talking about the fact there was no Father's Day per se when he was a child. Though there was 'Defender of the Fatherland Day, or Men's Day'...in February.

It was his belief you showed your love to your pappa every day...there was no need for a special designation to do so, though secretly at times Illya wished his father were still alive so he could celebrate this day with him, hug the man, and tell him he loved him. Losing one's father at the age of eight, well, made for a hollow, empty feeling everyday, but on Father's Day it was augmented.

“That’s a change of pace for you Illya,” Solo noted his passing on vodka.” Nothing to do with a certain female section two agent at headquarters, who happens to hail from the Emerald Isle, hmmm?” *

“No,” Illya lied before taking a sip from his glass.

A/N: this is a hint at my AU character Elliott McGowan, who appears in my MFU 'Saga series' on fanfiction.net under MLAW