One Sweet Dream - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

A light rain had been falling for over an hour, lulling the Russian into a fitful sleep.  He woke with a start from the most recent snooze, sitting bolt upright.  Napoleon never flinched, he was used to his partner’s sleeping habits by now.  It was a constant source of irritation that Illya could sleep in a THRUSH cell.
“Nightmares?”
“I was dreaming …” He stopped.  There was no point in telling dreams, as though there might be some revelation within them.
“Something bad?”  Napoleon didn’t need to know, but he would listen.
Illya shook his head.
“No, I was happy.”