Feb. 14th, 2018
Illya Kuryakin peeked underneath his partner’s desk with a look of amusement.
“Are you comfortable Napoleon?”
“Shush,” Solo whispered.”I don’t want anyone to know I’m in here.”
“Oh for pity’s sake, just man up! It is your own fault you are in this predicament.”
“And why is it my fault?” Napoleon pulled himself from beneath the desk, though he remained out of view behind it.
“You date too much and now all your paramours expect you to lavish them with gifts for Valentine’s Day.”
“You’re right.” Solo squeezed back under the desk.
"See you in the morning," Illya chuckled.

Illya Kuryakin didn't spend time worrying over holidays. He was polite when invited to share a meal, accepted gifts readily enough and, in the spirit of things, would join a toast to the occasion.
Valentine's day was something he particularly avoided as far as celebrating it. He never asked a woman out on a date on that day, and he refused to say the phrase Happy Valentine's Day to anyone. That was something he never did.
What he was willing to do was accept chocolate. Hearts or cupids, it didn't matter to him.
Chocolate was the exception to every rule.
By Any Other Name

Arriving at the office, Illya found an envelope, addressed to him, lying on his desk. Opening it, he found a note from Napoleon.
Tovarisch,
I’m taking a personal a day. If anyone other than Waverly asks where I’ve gone, tell them I’m on assignment. Before you roll your eyes, I’m absolutely NOT avoiding the ladies.
N.S.
“I shall have his teeth for cufflinks.”
.

