The New Kid on the Block~chapter 4

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

link to chapter 3: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/168354.html
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Not surprisingly, Illya didn’t pick up April for the rendezvous at the restaurant in Brighton Beach. He simply gave her the address and expected her to get there by her own means.

She wasn’t insulted, and was rather bemused. He was doing it to let her know it wasn’t indeed an actual date, and that seemed to fit his reputation.

April decided to simply enjoy the experience and not wonder if anything would come of it. Making a new friend was really all she hoped to get out of this, and an improvement with her Russian...still, he was awfully cute.



She shook that feeling from her as she stepped from the taxi in front of a small storefront restaurant called Odessa. She was surprised as that was in the Ukraine, still though it was part of the Soviet Union. She’d heard Illya was from the Ukraine, but called himself Russian...another mystery to unravel.  

She looked through the glass front panels, seeing the place was not overly crowded. It seemed nondescript and she guessed it was more a family owned eatery, and out of the way.  What better place for two U.N.C.L.E. agents to meet.

When she stepped through the door, she saw Illya already seated and he waved to her.

“May I halp you Miss?”  A grey haired woman spoke to her.

She presumed the woman spoke Russian and replied to her. “YA vstrechayusʹ s etim dzhentlʹmenom , yestʹ _I am meeting that gentleman there.” She pointed to Illya.

“O Ilʹya . Da, on odin iz moikh postoyannykh kliyentov. Khm, eto pervyy raz, kogda on vstretildamu zdesʹ.” She sighed. “K sozhaleniyu, vy ne russkiy. YA pytalasʹ poznakomitʹ yego s moyey plemyannitsey, no on otkazalsya_Oh Illya. Yes he is one of my regulars. Hmmm, this is first time he has met a lady here. “  She sighed.”Sadly you are not Russian. I tried to introduce him to my niece, but he declined.

“How did you know I wasn’t Russian?”

“Your accent my dear is just a little off.”

April smiled, wondering if it was that bad. “That’s why I’m here, Illya is going to help me with my Russian.”

“Da?” The woman looked at her suspiciously.

“Well he is,” April protested gently.

She was shown to the table, and somehow was surprised when Illya stood, moving the chair for her to be seated. “At least he has manners,” she mused.

“Zdravstvuyte Aprelya, kak ty_hello April, how are you?” He asked as he seated himself.

“Khorosho, spasibo . YA vesʹma rad etomu , ya dolzhen priznatʹ_fine, thank you. I must admit I am rather excited about this.”

“Khorosho, entuziazm delayet dlya khoroshego uchenika_good, enthusiasm makes for a good learner.”

“Old Russian proverb?” She asked in English.

“No, just common sense. Teperʹ, govoryat tolʹko na russkom yazyke , pozhaluysta_now, speak Russian only, please?”

“Yeda pakhnet zamechatelʹno zdesʹ. U menya byla russkaya kukhnya , no nichto , chto pakhnet eto khorosho_the food smells wonderful in here. I've had Russian cuisine but nothing that smells this good.”

“That is because it a small place, and the food is more like home made. Would you like to see the menu or would you prefer I order for us?” He said in Russian.

“Pozhaluysta, vyzakaza,_please, you do the ordering,” she smiled at him, now trying to be careful with her pronunciation.

The food kept arriving, dish after dish and April was amazed at Kuryakin’s appetite. She sampled everything during which they discussed the food, and Illya corrected her pronunciation and told her why.

After their meal was concluded, the vodka and snacks arrived, and while they both nibbled and sipped their drinks Illya had her pay attention to the conversations in the room. It was small enough that the words could be easily heard.  And Illya supposed that was why the place was not frequented by any Soviet agents or unsavory types.

“Listen to that woman speaking there” he whispered discreetly, “her’s is a Novgorod accent, while her companion is from Moskva. Hear the slight differences in the nuances? That couple, he nodded with his head are from Ukraine.

“Yes I do hear the differences.”

“Russian possesses five vowel phonemes or six; that is, scholars disagree as to whether the five-vowel analysis, taken up by the Moscow school, rests on the complementary distribution of....”

“Wait, wait. let’s not get too technical here? I think if you just point out the difference while we’re listening, I’ll pick it up. I have a very good ear.”

“All right, I will avoid the technical and grammar aspects of the language. Perhaps listening is better way,” he actually smiled at her.

The rest of the evening proceeded beautifully and by the time they were done, her accent had improved greatly.

“You have done well April, perhaps if you come here from time to time, you will improve even further, though I think you would now be able to pass more for a Muscovite.  The owner, Oksana, knows you now and would be more than willing to converse with you, and she is from Moskva.

Illya paid for their meals, though April protested saying it wasn’t a date.  

“Please, you are here as my guest.”  He asked Oksana to call for a taxi and walked out with April when it arrived.

“Sharing a taxi with me?”

“No, I will be staying here for a bit. It does a Russian’s soul good sometimes to be around his own kind.”

“Illya thank you so much for your help and the wonderful meal. I really do appreciate you taking the time to do this.”

He smiled at her once again as he offered his hand to her. “It was my pleasure, and anything to help a fellow agent. Good night April.”  They shook hands and he closed the taxi door after her.  She watched out the window as he stood looking after the taxi before finally walking back into the restaurant.

“Tak Illuyshenka , vy sobirayetesʹ pozvolitʹ etomu uyti_so Illuyshenka, you are going to let this one get away. She is very pretty, even though she is not Russian,” Oksana chided him.

“She is a co-worker and nothing more.” He sat down pouring himself another vodka but before drinking it he ate a bit of caviar, sighing to himself. He would be lying to himself if he did not admit he did find April Dancer attractive.

“Tsk tsk. You still need a nice girl to go home to, one who will warm your bed and cook you good meals and maybe someday give you fat healthy babies. Though you must still come here, as it is my personal mission to put some meat on those bones of yours until then. Enh...my niece is still available?”

“Illya chuckled at Okasana’s persistence. She was one to never give up and he liked that about her.

His reply was gentle. “As I told you once before, I am at present, not in the market for a wife.”

Illya spent the rest of the evening in idle chatter, and even got involved in a card game of ‘Durak’ after the restaurant closed. He finally called it a night, and took a taxi home to is cold apartment.

As he opened his door, reset the alarm and looked around, he realized how it really empty it was, devoid of any emotional warmth...perhaps Oksana was right.  He needed a woman in his life, eventually, that is, if he lived to retire... though he wondered if it was the copious amounts of vodka that had made him feel a bit soft and sentimental.

Illya stripped off his clothing, dressing himself in an old sweatsuit and and crawled between the cold sheets.  He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow,  and soon he was dreaming of a redheaded woman. Her face though, was unclear...