"The Light of a Star" Redux Part 2

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"I saw a small grocer that was still open when we passed, just a block away. Most places do stay open until five, so maybe I might just get lucky. It's worth a shot."

"Shot? Do not say that word my friend, you do not wish to bring any problems down on us." Illya was being his usual fatalistic self.

Solo headed for the door, and as he opened it he reminded his partner to be careful.

"That goes without saying. I have a feeling, however, that even T.H.R.U.S.H. is taking off the holiday, and given the weather I think most people will be staying close to home." Illya locked the door behind the American, shaking his head at Napoleon's determination to have Christmas. He himself had not celebrated the holiday in the true sense, since the war, when he was a child.

In the Soviet Union, the secular holiday was still observed and the only Christmas tree permitted had to have a red star at its top. People still gave trinkets and believed in the legend of Grandfather Frost and his granddaughter Snegurochka, also known as the Snow Maiden.

Ded Moroz was said to bring presents to children, however, unlike the secretive Santa Claus, the gifts were often delivered ‘in person’, at New Year's Eve parties, or they occurred at organized celebrations at schools around New Year’s time where the gifts could be standardized.

Still, Illya recalled Ded Moroz rarely paid a visit to the Orphanage where he was raised; if he did come, it was with little for the children...a single piece of candy, never toys. One year a young Kuryakin was lucky enough to have gotten a pair of woolen socks.

He knew Grandfather Frost wasn't real, and was simply a local man who had taken pity on the orphaned children. What he brought was paid for out of his own pocket, as those running the facility couldn't be trusted to buy anything; instead they would pocket the money that was meant for gifts for the children.

Yelena came downstairs, looking around the room for Napoleon. "Where is he?"

"Gone to find supplies, apparently he is determined to make this a nice Christmas for us all.

"Illya, why does he insist upon this. I do not I celebrate, I told him that. He seems to know you do not either...Christmas, it is really for children."

"It is his way. Americans seem to be single-minded when it comes to this particular holiday," he shrugged his answer.

.

Wisps of white were beginning to drift down and swirl on the sidewalk as the American decided to walk. It was better to leave the car parked where it was as the spaces on the block were full, and it was better to keep the vehicle close by, just in case a fast getaway was needed.

Pulling up his collar and bracing himself against the cold, Napoleon kept a steady pace walking along the sidewalk, peering into the windows as he passed by, seeing the brightly lit Christmas trees and wreaths within.

There were twinkling strands of lights strung from one side of the street to the other and in the distance a deep, resonant church bell rang out.

Napoleon stopped, standing there and savored the moment. This actually felt like Christmas. He let go a long sigh and watched his breath in the night air, surrounded by falling snowflakes.

He should have felt down, being away from his bestest girl, as he called his Aunt Amy, though at the moment she was somewhere in the Bahamas enjoying herself. The rest of his family was spread out around the world, as usual. His parents were in Rome, his brother Hannibal in London and his three sisters Theresa, Stella and Milicent were skiing in the Swiss alps.

Christmases at the Solo household were sporadic to say the least, though Napoleon always tried to make the best of it...no matter where he was. That's exactly what he planned to do with Illya and Yelena, in spite of their bah humbug attitudes.

continue to Part 3