The Twelve Days, Day 3 - for the 12 Days of Christmas

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Day 3

“Da da da da dum dee da dum, la la la la la, fa la la la.”

Illya Kuryakin had a nice voice. He didn’t know many Christmas carols, however, and the ones he thought he knew never came out quite right. It was his propensity for singing in Russian when he forgot the words, making up unintelligible verses that were punctuated with lots of da la la la la’s. It charmed the secretaries immensely, and brought an uncharacteristic scowl to his partner’s handsome features.

“If I sang like that everyone would ask me to be quiet. With you, they just ask for more.”

Illya grinned impishly. He found his reply impossible to repress.

“But Napoleon, you do sing like that. Always. It is not, I fear, your gift.”

Napoleon screwed up his face at that, acknowledging silently that it was true. It was also a distraction, because his goal today, as for the past two days, was to try and uncover the mystery that Illya had generated with his secret project.

“So, tovarisch, are you going to tell me what it is you’re hiding from me?’

Napoleon sidled up to his partner, bumping his shoulder in a genial, gosh it’s good to be friends sort of way.

“I have been especially nice this year, you know. Perhaps we should just have an early Christmas this year. What do you say?”

The day had been very pleasant so far. Illya was just on the verge of an uncharacteristic giddiness from his partner’s obvious ploy. The only thing that could mar it would be…a ringing phone.

“Oh no… Do you think it is for us?”

Indeed the call was for both of them. By the end of the day the two agents were settled into the UNCLE jet, and thoughts of gifts and secrets were set aside to study the details of this short mission in Nova Scotia. Not exactly where Napoleon wanted to be in December; he thought New York was close enough to the North Pole.

“Napoleon, I am quite certain that we will not be long taking care of this little problem. Mr. Waverly made it sound as though it is a mere trifle amidst the world’s troubles. I am going to make quick work of it, especially in light of what I need to accomplish still… before Christmas.”

Illya slid his glance sideways to get a look at his partner’s response. The Russian was beginning to actually believe that this season was the hap-happiest time of the year. Even sitting here on their way to disengage a troublesome detail at a secret meeting between two world leaders, he found himself contemplating the joys of withholding pertinent information from Napoleon.

Napoleon, for his part, simply smiled. Two could play this game, and even though he might have been sitting on the sidelines for the first few minutes, he was ready now to get in on the action.

“Yes, I wholeheartedly agree with you, my friend. I also have some things that need attention… before the big day, that is. Unless we run into Santa Claus up in this frozen piece of North America, I’m guessing the big guy still needs me to finish his gift list.”

As Illya stuffed some explosives into a backpack, he nodded his head appreciatively. So now, it seemed, they were in a competition to see who could create the biggest Christmas surprise.

“Am I to take it then, Napoleon, that we are officially on?”

Napoleon’s smile was so wide it threatened to spill out over his ears.

“Out of the goodness of my heart and my undying friendship, I will join this challenge to give the best gift to my friend. It is the season of giving, after all.”

Illya shook his head while he chuckled over Napoleon’s need to compete. Even in this, he wouldn’t be satisfied unless he was the better man. It was, Illya supposed, what drove the American to risk everything in pursuit of saving the world.

With only the vaguest wisp of sarcasm, Illya replied…

“Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.”

Napoleon pounded his chest with a closed fist, lowering his head as though…

“Illya, you wound me. I really intend to give you the best gift you have ever had. I want this to be the best Christmas…”

“And God bless us everyone?”

Napoleon smiled again, and nodded his head.

“Yes, exactly. So, Tiny Tim, you work on your little project and I shall attend to my own. Let’s just see what happens on the big day.”

Before the day was over, however, the Grinch showed up.

~~~~~:

Comments

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

Always trust the Grinch!
Love Illya playing with his well-known partner. This is a very clever analysis, my friend!

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you :D Illya's elfish features may hold more truth than we know.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Love the opening with your description of Illya's sining! And of course the 'game is on' is so them....hmmm dang Grinch had to show up. Enjoyed this chapter a lot.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Wouldn't we all like to hear IK singing a few carols? Lousy Grinch, he's never far away. thanks :D

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Love that last line. Also bumping his shoulder in a genial, gosh it’s good to be friends sort of way.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you. Yes, I can just see NS doing that little ingratiating gesture to try and gain some information.