section7mfu | Don't Look Back

What If Napoleon suspects that Illya is spying for the USSR? What will he do about it?

I admit to taking a few liberties with my own prompt!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a subtle thing, the raised eyebrow and a small nod of his head.

At first Napoleon just let it pass, but then he noticed it was a pattern of sorts. His partner, the Soviet agent who had just arrived from London, seemed to be signaling someone. Illya Kuryakin was a little stand-offish, his interaction with people in HQ seemingly hampered by his nationality in a city that hosted the world on a regular basis.

The two of them were standing in front of a deli where Napoleon often bought his lunch. Meatloaf, with catsup, on rye bread, with just a smear of horseradish. It was his favorite, and he had invited Illya to join him and offered to buy his lunch as well.

“So, Illya… umm… “ The Russian turned his head slightly, the eyes cutting towards his American partner in a trademark manner, almost condescending in the way he didn’t look directly at Napoleon. There was something about it, the cold aloofness of it… Napoleon didn’t like it. At times, he didn’t like Kuryakin.

“Is there something you wish to ask me? You’ve been watching me with an intensity I can only interpret as, well… as though you do not trust me.”

Wow. Well, there it was. So much for being a spy. Solo thought he’d been unreadable, but this Russian must have eyes in the back of his head. It made the American think of that movie, the one where aliens invade earth and they … No, that was an episode of the Dick Van Dyke show.

That made Napoleon laugh out loud, seeing Laura Petrie … oh well.

“I do not understand Americans. First you watch me like a hawk, invite me to lunch and then drift off into some other scene to which I am not privy. Napoleon, what is it you wish to discuss with me?”

Oh gee, was this really going to happen?

The traffic on the street was loud, horns honking and people talking. Planes were flying overhead and somewhere music blared from an open window. Was Illya a spy? A spy for the Soviet Union, and not a loyal agent of the U.N.C.L.E.

“Illya, I see you signaling someone on a pretty regular basis. Who is it? Are you still working for the Soviet Union? I hope not, because…” Illya stopped him with a hand raised in front of Napoleon’s face. A big hand, it got Solo’s attention. He also wondered that such a small person should have such a big hand. He thought of a boy growing up in a war zone, deprived of food and nourishment… perhaps stunted in his growth by malnourishment.

Illya noted the obvious change in the other man’s concentration, the sign of a mind wandering elsewhere. What the devil was wrong with Napoleon Solo?

“Napoleon? What are you saying? Are you accusing me of being some sort of double agent?” The burr in his accent suddenly intensified. There was a challenge to defend himself, and the strain of such things tended to cause the affectation of a British accent to fade slightly, sometimes completely.

“Well… Are you? A Soviet spy, that is.” It seemed as though all of the noise just faded away with that question. Illya felt his stomach roil with the anxiety and disappointment. He believed in the mission of the Command, and had left his homeland once again to live in the world of intrigue and subterfuge that was demanded of him. Of course he was a spy.

“Napoleon, let me be clear. I am a spy, just as you are a spy. Your country is The United States of America, mine is Russia. Or, as the world knows it now, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republic.’ Illya paused, trying to find a way to explain to this man what he had observed.

“I have been communicating with someone from home. She is, was… She is attached to the Soviet Embassy here in New York. We, in the past, we had a …”

“She was your girlfriend?” Napoleon thought it expedient to help out his partner. Illya let that small smile crease his face. He’d noticed that the women in HQ seemed to fall all over themselves when they saw it.

“Umm… well, yes, I believe you would qualify it as such. We meet up periodically, for drinks or …” A slight blush seemed to color the blond’s cheeks.

“Yeah, okay… I get it. Why the …’ Of course they had to be careful, why did he even need to ask?

“Okay Illya, so you’re having clandestine meetings with a Soviet citizen who works for the government, and you don’t want anyone to know about it… Does that sound about right?” Illya nodded, a sigh of relief accompanied it as he realized how difficult he had made his life by engaging in this relationship once again. Katarina was probably on the clock, her presence here in New York no doubt intended to lure Illya back into something that would compromise his mission with UNCLE, make him susceptible to blackmail, or worse. He had been foolish to entertain the thought of resuming an affair that had ended when he accepted the assignment to enter UNCLE as the only Soviet agent inside of Alexander Waverly’s great experiment.

“I’m sorry Napoleon, I should never have …” Now it was Napoleon holding up his hand to stop Kuryakin from saying anything more.

“Let’s not talk about it, or mention it again. Ever. You could get into trouble with this, my friend. And I don’t think you intended anything more than answer the call of your heart to be with a woman you cared for. Am I right?” Illya nodded again, more slowly, with more intensity in the blue eyes.

“So, are you done then? No more of this woman?”

“She will most likely be sent back to Russian if she cannot lure me back into the fold, so to speak. I imagine that was her assignment, she is a very loyal citizen.” Actually, more afraid of repercussion than loyal to the regime. It was a small consolation to know that.

“Okay then… are you still hungry?” Napoleon had taken note of the ravenous appetite of his new partner. It was as though he was always making up for lost meals. It made him think again of the boy living in a war torn country, scavenging for food. He absent mindedly shook his head, as though to clear the thought. Illya noted it, wondering again about this American with whom he had been partnered by their superior.

It wouldn’t be the last time Illya Kuryakin wondered about Napoleon Solo, sometimes marveling at the man’s ingenuity and skill. For today, he wondered if the man was paying for lunch.

******************

A bonus look at what Napoleon was thinking about...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Thank you for a story (affair in the older sense) both well thought and very well written). Neat ending.

My computer has trouble with sound, but the effort you took is appreciated,

Thank you, it was fun to write. I'm sorry you can't hear the dialogue. If you ever get a chance to watch the series you'll have giggles for days.

Great scene, very believable.

And THAT is one of my favorite moments in the whole Dick Van Dyke series - when Laura comes surfing out on the walnuts with that smile. ROFL

Thank you, and ditto on the show. I don't know where it came fromt, but as i was writing I could see Napoleon watching that episode. I"m glad you enjoyed the clip.

Well done. Loved the Dick Van Dyke show reference. 🙂

Thanks! I think Napoleon would have been a fan of that show ;)

Don't Look Back - What If?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject