Solo Mia, Pia, Illya - What If?

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Prompt: What if Napoleon did marry Pia in the Concrete Overcoat Affair?

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"Pizza? Again?  Pia darling, is that the only meal you know how to prepare?"  Napoleon had been playing house with the pretty Italian girl for over a month now.  As of yet there was nothing remotely romantic about their marriage; it was in name only that they shared his name and apartment since their return from the island.

"Napoleon, my dream was to open the pizzeria and live my life in my village, among the people who loved me and would come to support me.  Now, here in America… '  Pia paused long enough to take a breath.

"Yes, only pizza.  My grandmama is the cook, and she was going to provide all of the other dishes we would offer on our menu.  Without her…"  She sighed so deep it made Napoleon sorry he had asked.

"Look, Pia… sigh … I know this, um.. situation…' Pia rolled her eyes at that description of what they were doing.

"Our life together, this marriage, isn't real.  You don't love me and, sorry as I am to say it, I do not love you.  We are doing this because your uncles pointed a gun at my head and somehow convinced you that this was acceptable.  Tell me the truth, is this what you want?  Am I who you want to be with?"

Pia's eyes welled up with tears, and as the floodgates opened she sat down and doubled over with the grief and disappointment that had been building inside of her.

In truth, in the time she had spent on the island, her heart had been stolen by the kindness of Illya Kuryakin.  He had seemed to care for her, had taken notice of her fragile emotional state and responded to her touch when she attempted to tend to his wounds.

"You are telling the truth Napoleon.  But what can we do?  After living together, how can I possibly leave you and not face the shame of acknowledging your displeasure with me?  In my country…"

"We're not in your country Pia.  Here, in America, you are free to be a young woman with an eye to a career.  If you want to open a restaurant and be single, then do it.  We haven't had, um… we never consummated this relationship.  I will swear to it, and an annulment can be had.  It might take some time, but we can make this right.  What do you say?"

Pia wanted out of this arrangement as much as Napoleon did.  He was right, she wasn't bound by the old rules, not in this city, this country.  Her grandmother was staying with one of her other relatives, but if she wanted to open her restaurant then they could live together again, like it was in Italy.  Only this time there would be no shotgun weddings.

And no Napoleon.

"Okay, okay… How do we do this?"  That's all it took for Napoleon to contact Mr. Waverly and let the wheels start turning.

Illya Kuryakin was sent on assignment two days after the return from the island.  With Napoleon otherwise occupied, it was up to the Russian to take on the mission with the help of Mark Slate.  The two of them headed for Iceland, a sharp contrast to the tropical location where he'd been tortured and nearly drowned.  His mind kept wandering back to the cell he had shared with Pia, of his feelings for her.  She was a beautiful girl, a sensitive young woman who had been trapped into a dangerous situation and a marriage she didn't want.  At least, he was hoping not.  Napoleon had sent word of the impending annulment, and now he revisited his affection for Pia and the hope that she might still have feelings for him.

Two months of counseling, meeting with a priest and some help from Waverly, and the annulment was finalized with signatures from Pia and Napoleon.  During the time she waited for this day, Pia dreamed of being with the handsome Russian whose heart she truly desired.  Because of the situation, and the partnership between him and Napoleon, they had been discreet about their love affair.

On this evening, Illya brought take out from Chang's Chinese Pavilion, a new favorite restaurant for the lovely Italian girl.  Pia was discovering so many new things here in New York, as well as falling more deeply in love with her blond spy.  Illya was equally smitten, his heart so easily taken from him by this woman.  He couldn't have predicted this, would not have believed it was possible.  And yet here they were, and after the annulment, she would be completely free to be with him.

"Illya, are we going to be married?"  He almost choked on the dumpling he was chewing.

"What?  Pia, my love, you are just now getting an annulment from Napoleon.  Do you really want to get married again?"  That came out wrong somehow.  Pia looked shocked, and she scooted back away from the table as though to stand.  Instead she sat and stared at him.

"I mean, that is… Pia…' Illya's voice sounded feeble as he attempted to extricate himself from the mess he was creating.

"I would be forced out of the field if we were to marry.  I am not ready for that, I …" Words failed him now.  Pia was stone faced, her eyes hard as flint.

"You have come here almost every night, have made love to me and courted me with words and kisses and … And yet you cannot marry me because of your job.  You and Napoleon and all the others, roaming the world and making love to women you do not intend to marry."

Pia was shaming him.  Shaming him because of who he was and what he did.  Illya was caught between the agony of what he was seeing and hearing from her, and anger at being questioned concerning his motives.  He did care for her, perhaps even loved Pia.  But he could not marry her.

"I thought you understood.  After your ordeal with Napoleon, I thought you would know that marriage is out of the question.  I am sorry Pia.  I do care for you, so much.  But I cannot marry you."  Illya was truly sorry, and now he wondered if she might call her uncles once again and repeat what had gone on between her and Napoleon.

Except Napoleon had not been her lover, and so was blameless.  Illya knew he was not.

Pia got up from the table, its cheerful red checked cloth a sharp contrast to her black mood.  How had she been so naive as to think an UNCLE agent would give up the life he lived in exchange for a home, a loving wife and even happiness?

Pia turned to face Illya.  His face was colorless, and sad.  She knew he loved her, as much as he was able at least.  And now she knew better than to give herself to someone who could not be completely hers.  A great lesson had been learned, so she should be grateful.  But she was also hurt, something that wouldn't pass for some time.

"I think you should go, and do not come back here.  I will forgive you eventually, but for now you must leave."  Illya felt his heart sink; he had failed Pia, just as Napoleon had by not loving her.

One man married her without loving her, and another loved her but could not marry.  What kind of life was this?

Illya got up and turned to go, the quaintness of the little apartment suddenly more inviting than ever.  He took notice of some little  porcelain trinkets, a wooden box where he knew she kept her rosary.  Would she pray for him?  Or would she consign him to hell and say good riddance?

"Pia…" His eyes pleaded with her to forgive him.

"Just go.  Someday we may perhaps meet again, but never as lovers Illya Kuryakin.  I have learned my lesson, finally.  Now please, just go."

Several months passed without Illya ever speaking about his affair with Pia.  Napoleon seemed to have gone happily on his way after the annulment, treating his short-lived marriage as he might a mission for which he filed a report and moved to the next.  When an invitation to attend the opening of Pia's new restaurant arrived at UNCLE Headquarters, Mr. Waverly was quick to respond that he and his agents would be happy to attend.

Napoleon and Illya each had reason to be tentative about the event, reluctant even.  Waverly insisted that they all three attend, citing the cooperation of the Stiletto brothers during that affair with Strago and the obvious grace towards Napoleon.  He did not cite the affair between Illya and Pia, something known only to him; no point in traumatizing the young man with any more references to it.

The three of them arrived at the pizzeria just as the party was starting.  All of Pia's family were there, and to each of them she offered a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  Napoleon was pleased to see her so happy while Illya was simply relieved that she seemed to hold no ill will towards him.  His heart was still touched by her, although he knew she would never again allow him into hers.

In the end all of those at the table were able to raise a glass to the success of Pia's new venture, and to her grandmother whose cooking would ensure that customers returned again and again.  Pia was radiant, and both Napoleon and Illya were left to wonder just what it might have been like to grow old with her.

Comments

Yay!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

The title is absolutely intriguing! This was a wonderful twist on the prompt. Well done!

RE: Yay!

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thanks. I have always contended that Illya had a thing for Pia, he showed a great deal of interest in her well being and seemed slightly smitten with her in the cell. The 'what if' let us explore things we have already imagined ;)

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

What a great twist. Well written indeed, with Pia a solid and very admirable character. And that last paragraph is just bravo!

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I'm Happy you liked it :D

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

What a brilliant twist! I really wasn't expecting you to go in that direction. Poor Illya, ad definitely poor Pia.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thanks, it's due to my contention that Illya was sweet on Pia.