"The First Snow of Winter" - a non-challenge story

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Mark Slate trudged into Napoleon Solo’s office with a sigh.

“Snow’s coming down really heavy mate. Everything’s pretty much shutting down out there. Don’t you think it’s time to call it a day even though it’s only two o’clock.”

“That’s all it is?” Napoleon looked up from the pile of folders in front of him. “Time doesn’t fly when you’re doing paperwork.”

It was then that it became apparent to the Brit that Kuryakin wasn’t there at his desk.

“Where’s our resident Russian?”

“Good question. He disappeared nearly two hours ago and I presumed he’d gone to the Commissary for lunch.”

“And you didn’t go with him?”

“Though you probably won’t believe it Mark, I do work on my reports without the able assistance of my partner, and besides I have a few that have to be finalized as they’re due for my Monday meeting with Mr. Waverly. It would seem agents think it’s all right to turn in their preliminary reports late to the CEA for review before they’re submitted to Mr. Waverly.”

Mark chuckled,” Say guv, the shoe’s on the other foot. As I recall you were amongst the tardy once upon a time.”

Napoleon chuckled. “Gone are those days. I have new responsibilities; I’m not just a field agent anymore.”

“Blimey, now that’s quite a change. Is that why Illya didn’t stay to help you out, you don't need him any longer?" Slate snickered at that thought.

“Oh he still helps me but now that I think about it I have a sneaky suspicion he’s gone outside.”

“Bloody hell there’s at least half a foot of snow and it’s freezing. Why would he go out in that unless he had to. Word in the bullpen was there were not assignments."

Napoleon cocked his head to one side.”Please tell me you’re not being that thick Mark. Snow...Kuryakin, ummm...Russian?”

“Oh right mate. It didn’t cross my mind. This is the first snow of winter and Illya does seem to wax a little poetic when it comes to the white stuff.”

“Waxing poetic is putting it mildly.”

After Slate left, Napoleon picked up the telephone receiver and requested a search for the Russian. It didn’t take long to locate his wayward partner as he technically hadn’t left the building.

"He's up on the roof, has been for about forty-five minutes Napoleon," Agent Lopaka, the head of Security, replied.

“Thanks Tom.”

Solo retrieved his winter coat, hat and gloves from his office closet and headed up to the roof to join his partner.

Kuryakin was leaning forward on the ledge, motionless, looking like a statue, staring out at the U.N. building There was snow on his shoulders of his wool pea coat and black cap. Only thing missing were the pidgeons.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to come in search of me,” Illya called.

“You all right?”

“Fine, you know me and snow.”

“True, that’s why I asked how you were. Missing home?”

“No, for once not really. I think it has finally been a long enough time that I have not been there; New York has become home now for all that is worth….Napoleon have you ever noticed how quiet it becomes when it snows?”

The American paused, listening for a second.” Yes it is pretty quiet, amazing considering we’re in a city that never seems to sleep.”

“It is nice for a change,”Illya smiled ever so slightly. ”Everything seems so pure, innocent perhaps. Like when we were little children.”

“Everything was innocent when we were kids, before we became aware of the treacheries of the real world.”

“So very true, though I became aware of such things far too soon. Such is the life of a child of war.”

Napoleon knew better than to continue that line of discussion. Maybe it was time to get his partner inside and he had a good idea exactly what would lure Kuryakin in.

“Tovarisch, as your CEA I say it’s time to come inside and call it quitting time. May I suggest an early supper with me at the 21 Club?”

Illya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.”Is that not the place you reserve for your dates with special lady friends?”

“From time to time, but I think dinner there with my partner and friend on a cold snowy day would count as special.” Napoleon winked.

“I am flattered.”

“Good, but I’m cold so let’s get inside please?”

“After you my friend,” Illya gestured with a smile.”May I ask, do they serve any Russian food there?”

“In the mood for a taste of home?”

“Maybe.”

“I think the chef can be persuaded to prepare whatever you want tovarisch.”

“I like the sound of that. Spasibo.”

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Thanks for sharing. Nice work on the reports, and that's an excellent idea for Napoleon to take Illya to the 21.

And, of course, very nice about Illya finding he's not homesick.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! The idea of Napoleon pushing his paperwork off on Illya I think has finally gotten a little old. Being CEA Solo would have more responsibilities, and would have prioritize things in his life. (keeping in the back of his mind that he's being groomed to replace Waverly some day)

Glad you liked my little first snowy interlude.

[pfrye.livejournal.com]

Beautiful little story - I think perhaps IK is still a bit homesick...no matter what he says....

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

thank you! That's what I was hinting at, but especially when he asked if the 21 Club had any Russian food. "D

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Sweet story. No matter what he says, Russia with always be with him.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you and well said. It's part of his Russian soul...if he admitted to having one. "D