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Prompts - Grant / Adult / Grey
Word Count - 506
You'll find the story below the cut, or you can follow the link to AO3.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21922870

Alexander Waverly could hear the sounds of the annual headquarters Christmas Eve party long before he reached the commissary doors. He never failed to grant permission for festivities (save in the direst of emergencies) as he knew, all too well, that his people needed to let off steam occasionally. The party was usually a twenty-four hour affair, to allow as many people as possible to enjoy it for at least an hour.
Pushing open the door a little, Mr Waverly peered into the room at the revellers. Despite the fact no alcohol was being drunk, the staff of U.N.C.L.E. were throwing themselves fully into the celebrations. It did his old heart good to see fully grown adults laughing, and playing games, like a bunch of school children. Their jobs could be hard, so they grabbed at any opportunity to forget it for a while.
Over in one corner, just as the Old Man expected, Napoleon Solo was holding court. Several women sat around him while he regaled them with exaggerated tales of derring-do. One person who was very much missing from the gathering was Solo’s new partner, Illya Kuryakin. Waverly wasn’t surprised at this. No doubt a mixture of his cultural background and his quiet nature were the reasons for his absence.
Mr Waverly let the door close and he headed up to his office. For all he liked to see the young people having fun, his grey head was not up to it any more. As he headed towards the door of his office, he was surprised to see Mr Kuryakin coming out. Much to many people’s annoyance, Kuryakin had gained the position of third in command of the new York headquarters, so he had clearance to enter Waverly’s office whenever he needed (unless the boss said otherwise).
“I hadn’t realised you were still working, Mr Kuryakin,” Waverly said, genially. “Did you not want to attend the party?”
“I had one last thing to complete,” Illya replied. “I shall show my face at the part but I will not stay long. Goodnight, Sir.”
“Goodnight, Mr Kuryakin, and Happy Christmas.”
Illya nodded at the sentiment before hurrying off.
Mr Waverly entered his office and was immediately drawn to the small package in front of his chair. It was wrapped in plain paper, and had the words ‘Merry Christmas’ written on it. It wasn’t signed, but Waverly had no doubt that it had been left by Mr Kuryakin. Sitting down, he carefully removed the wrapping and revealed a book. It was an English translation of the collected works of Tomasz Padura. Waverly had heard of the Ukrainian-Polish poet, but hadn’t read any of writings.
Mr Waverly smiled and the thoughtful gesture. He would thank his agent next time he saw him, but he wouldn’t make a big deal of it. He had no wish to embarrass the man. He stood up and went to pour himself a drink. He then lit his pipe, before sitting on the sofa to beginning reading his gift.
.