"The first snow of winter" redux by mrua7 for THE WRITER'S AND READER'S CHOICE!

[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 and hour and a half 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?”

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

“There’s at least four inches of snow and it’s freezing. Why in the bloody hell would he go out in that?”

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 headed down to Security 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.

“Look,” Agent Lopaka, the head of Security, pointed to the monitor.” There he is on the roof. From the log book, it looks like he’s been up there for at least forty-five minutes.

“Thanks Tom.”

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

Kuryakin was leaning forward on the ledge, motionless. There was snow on his shoulders of his wool pea coat and black cap

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

“You all right?”

“Fine, you know me and snow.”

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

“No, 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 treachery of the real world.”

“So very true, though I became aware of such things 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 knew exactly what would lure him 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 night 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?”

“Perhaps.”

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

“I like the sound of that. Spasibo.”

Comments

[duckys-lady.livejournal.com]

Great story and glimpse into the friendship between our favorite spies.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I hope the talk of snow helped all the readers suffering from the heat.