Picfic Tuesday: Christmases Present

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

Illya was watching his partner out of the corner of his eye as he drove on the Champs Elysee heading toward the Paris Holiday Inn that would be their base for the next four or five days.  Napoleon was sitting stiffly and slightly turned to his right as he gave all his attention to the passing scenery as if it were going to reveal The Secret of Life to him.  “Napoleon,” he began, “It’s not…”

“Don’t speak to me, you sneaky Russian!” Napoleon snapped, “I can’t believe that we had Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off and you volunteered us for duty!  I’m out sick one stinking day and look what you do!”  He looked like he wanted to say more, but huffed in annoyance and went back to looking out the window instead.

Stung, Illya turned his attention back to the road and the traffic.  They had been partners for just five months last year when the holidays arrived and Napoleon had opened his home to his new Soviet partner and showed him an American Christmas.  The food and the gifts even helped to push the bad dream about his time in the State School from his mind.  I am an idiot, he thought.  It did not occur to me that the day itself meant so much to him!  He has not struck me as being particularly religious; he has not gone to church since we have been partnered.  He pulled into the underground garage of the hotel and silently got his bag and followed his superior as he checked them in and they headed for their room.

Napoleon strode to the bed and tossed his valise upon it to unpack.  After a few seconds, he turned around to see that Illya was looking at the throw pillows on the couch.  “What are you doing?”

“There is only the one bed; I will sleep here.”

“That couch looks lumpy.  Since when did you become so modest that you can’t share a bed with me?”

“I did not think you would want me so close after I…I destroyed your Christmas.  I am sorry, Napoleon.  Have I damaged our partnership?”

Napoleon stared at him.  “Destroyed my Christmas?”  He sat on the bed and motioned for the blond to sit on the couch.  “Listen to me, Illya.  I’m the one who should be apologizing for barking at you.  I’ve given it some thought and I was wrong for doing it.  When the Old Man spoke to you about this mission, what exactly did he say to you?”

The Russian hid it well, but he was stunned that his senior agent had apologized.  He wasn’t used to that; no superior of his in either the KGB or the GRU would have ever apologized to a subordinate.  “He said that UNCLE had been asked to be a neutral observer of behind the scenes negotiations between two warring tribal factions from Libya.  He said they had agreed to meet in Paris, but did not want to have the French overseeing their talks; they wanted a multi – national organization.  He wanted to know who I thought would be appropriate for this mission.”

“And?”

“That was it.  I thought he was implying that we should do it, so I said we would.  He is our boss, how could I say no?”

Napoleon smiled ruefully.  “I understand.  Let me explain something, Illya; if Mr. Waverly had wanted to send the two of us that is what he would have said.  He and I have spoken on a few occasions about the need for Section II to have a Second – in – Command who can step in when I’m unavailable.  I want it to be you and Mr. Waverly is still not sure that’s a good idea.”

Illya stiffened and sat up a little straighter on the couch.  “He does not?  Well, it might cause a problem to have a Soviet in charge of UNCLE North America’s Enforcement Unit, even temporarily…”

Napoleon laughed, “No, that’s not the reason, Tovarisch; his problem is having the CEA and the Acting CEA partnered; theoretically, he could lose both of us in one fell swoop.”

The blond replied, “It is logical, Napoleon.  If you want me to be your Second, I should not be your partner.”

That caused the American to frown and shake his head.  “You are the only agent I want at my back in the field and you are also the only agent who knows how my mind works and why I make assignments the way I do.  Having you as Second – in – Command would make for the easiest transition if something were to happen to me and that argument has almost got him convinced.  However, Partner Mine, you have to learn to delegate and you have to remember that you are no longer KGB or GRU.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that when Mr. Waverly asks for your opinion, give it.  If you weren’t so busy volunteering us to spend Christmas in Europe, who would you have considered for this assignment?”

Illya thought about it a few minutes and then answered, “I would have recommended Slater Gray.  As Number I of Section III, he has Survival School training plus is a security expert and I would have allowed him to choose who he wished to accompany him.”

“Good answer; I would have said Gray was the man for the job, too.  But, since you didn’t, he’s home and we’re here babysitting.”

“I am sorry I misinterpreted the intent of Mr. Waverly’s question.  I did not realize how important the day is to you; were you…going to church?”

“Church?  Ah, I wasn’t planning to; I mean, if Aunt Amy wanted to attend Midnight Mass, I would have accompanied her.  She decided to stay in New York for the holidays rather than cruise with her friends and I had planned for us to spend the day with her.”

“Us?”

“Yes.  Unless you had other plans it was definitely going to be us.  I am a believer, Partner Mine, and this day is important to me for several reasons; the main one being that I can show the people I care about that I do care.  We’re agents and I know celebrating holidays is not a priority, but I thought I was going to have this one with my aunt.  She’s already in her early eighties…”  He roused himself and pulled the rest of his clothing and toiletries from his suitcase.  “Nevermind.  Illya, don’t worry; you have not harmed our partnership nor have you ‘ruined Christmas.’  There are far worse things than spending Christmas in Paris.”  He checked the time.  “The talks are scheduled to begin six hours.  I want to shop for a gift for Aunt Amy; you can help me.”

The Russian smiled and began putting his things away.  “It is comfortable outside to me, but I know it is cold to you, so you should wear this.”  He handed a small gaily gift – wrapped package to his partner.  “A Christmas present and small peace offering,” he said shyly.

“What is it?” Napoleon smiled as he shook the box close to his ear before ripping the paper from it and opening it.  As he pulled out a grey woolen scarf, his smile broadened.  He shook Illya’s hand heartily and said, “Thanks, Illya, I really like it.  Now I’m sorry I left your gift at home.  I guess that means we’ll have to celebrate Christmas again in New York, doesn’t it?”

As they headed out the door, Illya replied, “I guess it does.”