There are worlds out there...

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

Christmas picfic challenge 3

“What are you doing here?”, Napoleon Solo snapped, aiming his gun at the intruder. It was unthinkable, unconceivable that anyone could enter this place... Guards, electronic surveillance and so many other devices...

The man turned to him, ignoring the threatening weapon. He smiled almost apologetically and rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Stop it! Don't move! Who are you?”

The man raised an inquiring eyebrow through some ruffled locks and pursed his lips. “Oh, yes, I should have...” He tilted his head, folding his arms. “Aren't we the 24^th of December? The...” He hesitated, “Christmas Eve?”

Napoleon couldn't help cracking a smile at the incongruous situation, immediately scolding himself.

“Who are you?”

The man shook his head. “ Of course, you're... the boss now.” He brushed some dust from the lapel of his strange striped jacket. “You've something which belongs to me and... I need it.”

The man's effrontery was priceless. Effrontery or... insanity. Napoleon pointed at a chair.

“Sit down. Slowly. Keep your hands in sight.” Still aiming at the intruder, he sat on his desk. “So, who are you and what do you want?”

The man sighed. “Twenty years ago, you found something. A fob watch...”

Napoleon frowned. The pocket watch... which reminded him of his grand father's gift...

“You remember it! I knew you would! It's mine and I need it.”

Insane. The man was insane.

“It's yours? The watch we found twenty years ago is yours?... You're...”

The beep of the intercom cut him off.

“Mr. Kuryakin, sir.”

Napoleon Solo frowned. Illya? What the hell... The man was smiling brightly.

“Let him in, of course.”

Illya Kuryakin entered, pursing his lips with obvious annoyance. “What is it about, Napoleon? We'll be late and...”

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Kuryakin... May I call you Illya? I took the liberty of inviting you...”

The Russian stared at the man with icy eyes, which didn't impress the said man.. “Who's he, Napoleon?”

“It's about the fob watch. I need it.”

“The pocket watch, Illya. Do you remember...?”, Napoleon Solo hissed.

“Of course yes, I do! I looked for it for hours in the archives, as you asked me!” The Russian waved a small box.

“I didn't ask you anything!”

“I did.” The man smiled almost sheepishly. “I really, really need it...”

“Who is this man, Napoleon? What happened?”

The older man shrugged his shoulder, rolling his eyes. The man went on.

“It's a long story and... Okay. Long ago, very malicious and ill-intended villains managed to use one of your monuments as... a directional antenna.”

Questions burst out.

“Long ago? When?”

“A monument, Which one?”

“Oh, yes... Well, it was in... 1886, Napoleon. May I call you Napoleon? The Statue of Liberty, Illya. It was a perfect antenna tower, with its crown and the torch.”

“1886...”, Napoleon hissed.

“Statue of Liberty...” Illya repeated softly.

“I fixed it with the help of a young journalist, but I was in a hurry – I'm always...- and I left my fob watch. He kept it safe.”

Napoleon Solo banged he desk. Enough, it was, enough. “1886? Are you kidding? Who are you?”

The man got a thin metallic sheet out of his pocket and held it out to the Russian. “Look. You'll see the same on the watch. It's mine, I swear.”

Illya considered the strange symbols. He didn't need to check. “It isn't decorative, is it? I thought it might be symbols... kind of a mathematical language...”

“Yes!” The man almost clapped. “Those are Gallifreyan symbols!”

“Gallifreyan...”

“WHO ARE YOU?”, Napoleon Solo thundered.

“Oh, yes, of course... This watch... It isn't an ordinary one. It's... a storage for my memories and my... biology. It's allow me to hide from my enemies.”

Insane. The man was insane. “I won't ask again. Who are you?”

The man smiled. “I am the Doctor.”

The doctor? Just what he needed! A psychiatrist! Napoleon couldn't really understand why he didn't call for the guards.

“The Doctor?” The Russian looked at the man with amazement.

“Yes. I am a Time Lord. The last one... Now...” He held out an inviting hand, “ I'm sorry. I need it.” Simultaneously he got out a strange device and pointed it at the corner of the room. Before the two UNCLE men's very eyes, a blue police box materialized.

“The watch? Illya, please?”

Napoleon nodded and the Russian handed the small box to the man.

“Thank you so much...” He was heading towards the police box when he stopped, turning to them. “Oh, here are two gifts for you. Let's say... lost things that you might be happy to get back... Merry Christmas!”

He entered the Police box which disappeared immediately.

Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin exchanged an uncertain look.

Dream? Drugs? Dementia?

“Look...”, Illya whispered.

There were two small boxes on the desk. One personalized with NS, the other with IK...

We should ask for the bomb disposal unit...”

“We should...” Illya Kuryakin opened his own box. So did Napoleon.

A medal was hanging from Illya Kuryakin's fingers. His medal lost long ago. Lost and missed.

In Napoleon Solo's hand, there was a watch. The watch his grand father had given him. Lost and missed.

Somewhere, someone stroke the twelve chimes of midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Napoleon!”

Merry Christmas, Illya!”

Comments

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

:D... just lots of :D

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

Couldn't resist... Thanks for reading and commenting!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Squee! The Doctor! What a brilliant interpretation of the prompt. Great job and thanks so much for catching up. New Picfic on Monday, hope you can squeeze it into your schedule!

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

Glad you like it! The pocket watch "told me" about the Doctor...

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I remembered that when you included it in the story. Wasn't happy when they changed to a new Doctor, and for some reason (while I still had TV) could never find when Dr. Who was on. So I haven't quite bonded with the new one. Loved the episodes with the watch...David Tennant is definitely another squeezable Scotsman.