Arriving at the Jazz Club, Illya spotted Napoleon at the bar. A gorgeous redhead was sitting next to him, yet he was not paying her any attention, and it was not from lack of trying on her part. She was all but sitting in his lap. As Illya joined him, he ordered his drink and turned to look closely at his friend. Napoleon was sitting, staring into his drink, and not paying attention to anything. "Shall we go find a table?" Illya asked.

Napoleon looked up surprised just noticing that Illya had arrived. "Sure." Was all he said.

Napoleon wasn't really a die-hard jazz fan like Illya. But it pleased him to see his partner enjoying himself. As he sipped his drink he watched Illya keeping time with the music. Napoleon didn't often get a chance to see this side of his friend and it made him smile. Suddenly that wasn't the only thing it made him do. He started feeling a sensation in his groin area that he normally only got around very beautiful women. His trousers started feeling a little tight and he couldn't help squirming in his seat. Damn, he thought.

Illya had been so taken up with the music that he almost didn't notice his partner getting up. He looked up at him with a raised eyebrow while his partner muttered something about need to find the restroom. Illya shrugged and went back to enjoying the music. Fifteen minutes later when Napoleon hadn't returned, he started to worry. Looking over to where the restroom was located he saw his friend come out. He took the box of pills that he had taken out of his jacket and slipped one into Napoleon's drink. He didn't really want to do this, but it might be the only way to get at the truth. As Napoleon retook his seat Illya jokingly asked "What took you so long? Masturbating?" Napoleon had been in the process of taking a sip of his drink and almost choked.

After a while Illya noticed a change in his friend. He seemed more relaxed than he had earlier. After the set was over they made their way to the parking area and Illya offered to drive Napoleon home. Napoleon started to tense up again, but he didn't refuse. As they were driving along Illya decided now might be a good a time as any to question him about what was bothering him. "Napoleon," he didn't get a response, "Napoleon, how about telling me what you did while I was gone last month?" Napoleon sat with his head lolled back on the seat. He started shaking his head "No, no, don't want to talk about it." He sounded woozy.

"Why not?" said Illya looking at him.

"'Cause."

The next few minutes were filled with silence as Illya concentrated on his driving and took those remarks in. The next thing he knew Solo had moved close to him and placed his head on Illya's shoulder. "You smell good." Napoleon murmured. Illya remembered Carol saying the pill made you uninhibited, but this was ridiculous. Now he was running his hand down Illya's chest and going lower when Illya snapped , "Napoleon, stop. I'm not one of your paramours." At this Napoleon tensed up and passed out.

Somehow Illya managed to get Napoleon back to his apartment and into bed. He decided it might not be a good idea to leave Napoleon by himself so going into the living room he collapsed on the sofa.

Early in the morning hours Napoleon woke up to find himself fully dressed. He got out of bed, pulling off his tie, and went into the living room to find his friend reclining on his sofa. He plopped in the chair across the way as Illya woke up with a start. "What hit me?" He queried.

"What do you remember?" Illya responded.

"Music, you, needing to," he stopped in mid sentence in embarrassment. "What did I say?" He asked

Illya just sat up and looked at him. "Napoleon, what's wrong?"

Napoleon brought his hands to his face and rubbed it. "I suppose you won't give me any peace until I tell you?"

Illya leaned forward, "It's just that I'm worried about you. We all are."

With a sigh, Napoleon commenced to explain his assignment to interview prospective brides for the Potentate. Illya had already read that much in the report, "That couldn't have been too difficult?"

"Ah, it wasn't just an interview…I had to have sex with them."

"Sex? That sounds like your dreams come true."

Laughing without much mirth Napoleon continued, "Ah yes, sounds great right and up till the first twenty or thirty it was."

"Twenty or thirty," Illya repeated open-mouthed.

"After about the hundred and fiftieth the pressure to perform just got…..too much."

"One hundred and fifty." Illya repeated in astonishment.

"Thereabouts," he said with a wave of his hand. "I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to," he looked embarrassed, "you know." He looked at Illya pleadingly, "Until last night."

Illya's eyebrows had gone up in astonishment. Napoleon couldn't possibly mean what he thought he meant. Oh well, Mr. Waverly had said to do whatever it took and it wasn't like he'd never done it before. "And now you think you can…" he asked, "with me?"

This did not make any sense, Napoleon loved women, he loved sex. To see him like this was crazy.

Illya woke up the next morning to find he had not a stitch on and just a sheet covering his private parts. Napoleon had not only gotten it up but had done so several times. What one had to do to preserve a partnership. He could hear Napoleon whistling as he came into the bedroom, adjusting his tie and planting a big kiss on Illya's lips. "Good morning, Sunshine. We'll stop at your place so you can get changed before we go to the office."

Arriving at headquarters, Napoleon appeared to be back to his old self, flirting with each and every woman that walked by.

The two agents didn't see much of each other in the next few days. Illya decided it would be wiser to spend time working in the lab. Everywhere he went, however, women would come up and thank him for helping Napoleon return to his exuberant self. Many even wondered how he had managed it, but he wasn't telling. Several even went so far as to try and regale him with the details of their dates with Napoleon. This he really didn't want to hear. Evidently things were back to normal.