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section7mfuShort Affair 3/14
Prompt: Vanish
Color: Pink
Title: Regret, part III
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~760
(This is a continuation of an early-days WIP here and here; the first part is gen-mature for injuries, but the second and this part is gen). This ties in to my Baron arc, which takes place early in the partnership, but the "Regret" series is technically separate from it.
Illya was still worryingly pale after he was released from Medical. He had weaseled his way out early somehow; Napoleon wasn’t sure how, and he hoped to one day learn the trick, but right now, it was his partner’s condition that concerned him. True to his word, Napoleon hadn’t left his side, though he had wanted to go after the THRUSH men who had tortured Illya. But, as his absence by his partner’s side had caused the trouble, Napoleon couldn’t bring himself to leave him again—especially not when Illya had requested his presence.
That was why he had put Illya up in his own apartment, rather than let him stay alone in his own flat next door; Napoleon’s apartment had more comforts and luxuries, which were what Illya needed for his recovery. The Russian spent most of the day relaxing in an armchair by the window, the pink slowly returning to his cheeks with each passing day. And to top it all off, Illya had forgiven Napoleon, refusing to hold it against him that he had vanished in his hour of need. Furthermore, he seemed to trust Napoleon not to vanish again, and Napoleon certainly had no intentions of doing so.
“I think,” Illya said on one afternoon. “That I am ready to return to my flat.”
“Is the food not good enough for you here, Tovarisch?” Napoleon said, attempting to bring some humor into the conversation. “I’ll have you know that I’ve taken some cooking classes as part of a cover once.”
“Not at all, Napoleon. I have eaten well here—as well as some of the finest eateries I have encountered in my travels. But I fear I have imposed upon you for far too long; I do not wish to overstay my welcome or take advantage of your hospitality.”
“Illya,” Napoleon says, firmly but gently. “You are welcome here anytime, and for as long as you’d like. But I don’t think you should be alone until we’re certain you’re better. If you go back, I’m going with you.”
“…Very well,” Illya replied, quietly. “I shall remain here for a while longer, then. Thank you, Napoleon.”
“It’s the least I could do, considering I’m the reason they got you.”
“No, Napoleon; please do not blame yourself.”
“Well… I guess how you got like this doesn’t matter; even if you’d ended up like this some other way, it’d be the same.” He cleared his throat, trying to awkwardly move on to another conversation. “I, ah… I’ve been looking up the files of some of the THRUSH agents who grabbed you. I think it should be easy to track them down--”
“No!” Illya suddenly exclaimed. “Napoleon, you mustn’t!”
“Why?” he asked, stunned.
“Because they do not know that I am with U.N.C.L.E.!” Illya explained. “You have my wallet—you found it where I had dropped it. They never saw my identification.”
“Then why did they take you!?”
“Because I was Russian,” Illya said. “They thought I had some military information—”
“The launch code,” Napoleon muttered. “It really was all about that?”
“Da. As far as they are concerned, U.N.C.L.E. was sent to intervene as an international agency because no American agency would have raised a finger to help me for altruistic reasons; nor would my people be allowed in to help me, assuming they had wanted to. If you go after those THRUSH members for this, they will realize that this is personal—that I am your partner. The Baron has seen me without knowing who I really am; if you wish to capture him, as I know you do, you must let this matter go, Napoleon.” He exhaled. “I was too weak to explain the whole thing to you in Medical; all I could do was ask you to stay with me. I know how much capturing the Baron means to you; I would not want you to lose your chance on account of me. And, of course, I did not want you getting injured—or worse—in your zeal.” He gave a wan smile; he also had wanted Napoleon’s company, but he would be far too reluctant to admit that out loud.
Napoleon could have been knocked over with a feather; they had barely been partners for five months, and Illya was already prioritizing Napoleon’s somewhat lofty goal and his personal safety over his own troubles.
The American nodded now, giving Illya’s shoulder a squeeze.
“Someday, though, Tovarisch,” he promised. “I’ll find them for you.”
And Illya smiled back. Of that, he had no doubts.
Prompt: Vanish
Color: Pink
Title: Regret, part III
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~760
(This is a continuation of an early-days WIP here and here; the first part is gen-mature for injuries, but the second and this part is gen). This ties in to my Baron arc, which takes place early in the partnership, but the "Regret" series is technically separate from it.
Illya was still worryingly pale after he was released from Medical. He had weaseled his way out early somehow; Napoleon wasn’t sure how, and he hoped to one day learn the trick, but right now, it was his partner’s condition that concerned him. True to his word, Napoleon hadn’t left his side, though he had wanted to go after the THRUSH men who had tortured Illya. But, as his absence by his partner’s side had caused the trouble, Napoleon couldn’t bring himself to leave him again—especially not when Illya had requested his presence.
That was why he had put Illya up in his own apartment, rather than let him stay alone in his own flat next door; Napoleon’s apartment had more comforts and luxuries, which were what Illya needed for his recovery. The Russian spent most of the day relaxing in an armchair by the window, the pink slowly returning to his cheeks with each passing day. And to top it all off, Illya had forgiven Napoleon, refusing to hold it against him that he had vanished in his hour of need. Furthermore, he seemed to trust Napoleon not to vanish again, and Napoleon certainly had no intentions of doing so.
“I think,” Illya said on one afternoon. “That I am ready to return to my flat.”
“Is the food not good enough for you here, Tovarisch?” Napoleon said, attempting to bring some humor into the conversation. “I’ll have you know that I’ve taken some cooking classes as part of a cover once.”
“Not at all, Napoleon. I have eaten well here—as well as some of the finest eateries I have encountered in my travels. But I fear I have imposed upon you for far too long; I do not wish to overstay my welcome or take advantage of your hospitality.”
“Illya,” Napoleon says, firmly but gently. “You are welcome here anytime, and for as long as you’d like. But I don’t think you should be alone until we’re certain you’re better. If you go back, I’m going with you.”
“…Very well,” Illya replied, quietly. “I shall remain here for a while longer, then. Thank you, Napoleon.”
“It’s the least I could do, considering I’m the reason they got you.”
“No, Napoleon; please do not blame yourself.”
“Well… I guess how you got like this doesn’t matter; even if you’d ended up like this some other way, it’d be the same.” He cleared his throat, trying to awkwardly move on to another conversation. “I, ah… I’ve been looking up the files of some of the THRUSH agents who grabbed you. I think it should be easy to track them down--”
“No!” Illya suddenly exclaimed. “Napoleon, you mustn’t!”
“Why?” he asked, stunned.
“Because they do not know that I am with U.N.C.L.E.!” Illya explained. “You have my wallet—you found it where I had dropped it. They never saw my identification.”
“Then why did they take you!?”
“Because I was Russian,” Illya said. “They thought I had some military information—”
“The launch code,” Napoleon muttered. “It really was all about that?”
“Da. As far as they are concerned, U.N.C.L.E. was sent to intervene as an international agency because no American agency would have raised a finger to help me for altruistic reasons; nor would my people be allowed in to help me, assuming they had wanted to. If you go after those THRUSH members for this, they will realize that this is personal—that I am your partner. The Baron has seen me without knowing who I really am; if you wish to capture him, as I know you do, you must let this matter go, Napoleon.” He exhaled. “I was too weak to explain the whole thing to you in Medical; all I could do was ask you to stay with me. I know how much capturing the Baron means to you; I would not want you to lose your chance on account of me. And, of course, I did not want you getting injured—or worse—in your zeal.” He gave a wan smile; he also had wanted Napoleon’s company, but he would be far too reluctant to admit that out loud.
Napoleon could have been knocked over with a feather; they had barely been partners for five months, and Illya was already prioritizing Napoleon’s somewhat lofty goal and his personal safety over his own troubles.
The American nodded now, giving Illya’s shoulder a squeeze.
“Someday, though, Tovarisch,” he promised. “I’ll find them for you.”
And Illya smiled back. Of that, he had no doubts.
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Date: 2016-03-14 05:26 pm (UTC)And true, heh. They don't tolerate failure well...