Illya placed feverish kisses up and down the length of his partner's spine, applying generous amounts of lubricant to the necessary places, distracted by Napoleon's all-too-caressable body beneath him. Preperations were made as quickly as possible while still being careful, and finally he wrapped his arms around Napoleon's chest, easing into him.

Napoleon groaned, twisting his neck to kiss the top of Illya's head. He reached around, stroking a sweat-damp cheek with his fingertips. His lover continued to rain kisses over his back and shoulders as a slow, gentle rhythm of thrusts began.

"I love you..." Illya said, the words muffled by Napoleon's skin. "'poleon... Napasha..."

He tried to reply, really he did. Words didn't come, and he gave up on speech, instead savoring the complete immersion in Illya he now experienced.

Scent- The pillow he rested on smelled like Illya's hair. If he turned his head just a little, he could nuzzle Illya's arm, and while it certainly wasn't the most fragrant part of anybody, the sweat they were working up was still there.

Sight- Not so much, with Illya behind him. He wished he had thought before to do this on his back, but even in their current position, no sense was totally deprived. He could still see Illya's hands, strong and pale gold, roaming over his chest, darting down between his legs. He could still close his eyes and see his lover's face as it was the last time they'd made love.

Taste- Illya's kiss... even ended, he could recall every nuance of flavor that last kiss had held, the spice and musk and undeniable Illya-ness of it all. He bent his head forward to nip at his partner's wrist, tasting the salt of mingled sweat as the connected hand continued its roving journey.

Touch- As self-explanatory as it might seem, there was more to it than just the sexual, and if he focused, he could feel every breath that Illya took puffing against his upper back. He could feel the top of Illya's thigh against the back of his own, feel the beat of the other man's heart, feel the arms that held onto him as if for dear life. He felt every muscle in Illya's body tighten as the inevitable end neared. Not there yet, but every little pre-orgasm tremor moved through their bodies until Napoleon couldn't say whose spasms were whose. And he could feel Illya's teeth closing gently but firmly over his shoulder, the one that hadn't been injured recently, hard enough to indent but not to break the skin, in that moment before Illya came inside him, triggering his own release. Or maybe it was his that spurred Illya's. It was hard to say, the lines between them seemed to blur beyond all recognition.

Sound- Illya's cry of completion had been muffled against the bitten shoulder, and felt as much as heard, but the soft whimper afterwards broke through Napoleon's post-orgasmic haze with remarkable clarity. The whimper was accompanied by a single sharp sob and the withdrawal of flaccid flesh, and followed by a deep sigh as Illya rested his head against Napoleon's shoulder.

---/-/---

Leamas watched as Lydana's body rolled down the steep grade, bouncing over rocks like a fallen ragdoll. She stopped to lie in the ditch, half-obscured by brush. Her body would be found, but nothing would lead the police to her killers, and as she was an international criminal, her death would be hushed, either by her people or by his.

"So long, baby." He shook his head, taking out his last cigarette and lighting it. "I'll make sure you get some company."

He got back into the car, glancing over to his trenchcoat on the passenger's seat. Bloodstained, it would have to be incinerated later. But now he had pressing business with Lydana's THRUSH masters.

---/-/---

Mark stirred, opening his eyes. Medical. Bugger. On the plus side, April was there.

"Hullo, stranger. How long is this arrangement going to last?" He grinned weakly.

"Too long." She sighed, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze.

"Oh, it's not that bad, is it? Can't be."

April shook her head. "No, you're banged up a little, but you'll be fine. Mostly, I think you're being kept as a preventative measure."

"Oh. Right then. How long's it lasted already?"

"Two hours." She rolled her eyes. "Maybe a little more. Not long at all, anyway."

"Well, let me know about anything I miss."

She glanced around the room. "Actually, you missed out on the big one."

Mark groaned. "Ah, no... Did I?"

"Well, not the action part yet. Hopefully you'll be up and running before we have to do anything too big, because I'll need my partner. But you missed hearing about it, and the subsequent top secret meetings."

"How top secret? Brighten my evening with the details?"

"I can only give you the shorthand version." Another suspicious once-over of the room. "Certain parties are in potential big trouble."

"I'm not one of them, am I?"

"Not yet." She shrugged.

"Right-o. Do tell, then."

"These certain parties-- known to you, myself, Ginger, and--"

"Hang on a sec... *Those* certain parties?"

"Yes. Those certain parties. Anyway, right now, Rob-- security-- is inadvertantly in on it. Danny-- he's a courier, and he's in, too. And James, who works in the lab. Anyway, the six of us know about these certain parties, and why they may be in trouble."

"For the usual reasons, or for those special-circ reasons we know about?"

"The special-circ. reasons we know about."

"How?" He questioned, sitting upright and leaning forward.

"Caught. We don't know how. Yet." April shrugged, pushing him back down. "Rest, will you? Look, I can't give you the details here... I'll write it up for you or something, but we can't talk, because if we do, I've got to keep it very vague, and it doesn't do you any good if I do that. The point is, they may or may not be in a position to defend themselves, so we're pulling together to fix things."

"When did this happen? I just saw-- certain parties-- in the corridor before we left."

"A few days ago. It'll make more sense when I can explain it to you. Can I get you anything before I go?"

"No, I'll be fine."

"Very stoic of you."

"Naturally."

"Mad dogs and Englishmen."

"Hardly fits in this particular case." He sniffed.

"I'll come first thing tomorrow." She promised, crossing to the door.

"Right, well, see you around, then." He waved, collapsing back onto the bed only after she'd gone.

Well, April had been right about one thing at least; the information she was able to give was very vague, and id did him little good. The one thing he understood was that Napoleon and Illya were in some sort of trouble, and that as soon as he was out of hospital, he was going to be doing... well, something, to help them.

---/-/---

Napoleon turned onto his back, pulling Illya into a tender embrace.

"You okay?"

"Da. Yes... 'm fine. Why did you feel the need to ask?" Illya sniffled, wiping hastily at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"The sob might have had something to do with it."

Illya nodded, swallowing. "Nothing to worry about, Napasha. Just-- I was thinking... about how much you mean to me."

"Yeah?"

"Everything." He confessed, watching his fingers trace arabesque patterns over Napoleon's smooth chest.

"Mm. I see."

"I don't normally get so... outwardly emotional, but-- I don't know, tonight I did."

"That's all right."

Illya extracted himself from bed and Napoleon long enough to take the needle off the record, then he returned.

"Do you want to be the cuddler or the cuddlee?" Napoleon asked, trying to fit himself as close to Illya as humanly possible.

"Which is which?"

"I don't really know... do you think it matters?"

"Screw semantics, I want to be held." Illya shrugged, surprising Napoleon. He snuggled against his partner, ignoring the smear of white that his arm rested against. "And I want to be-- it's silly, just--"

"No, it's not. What do you want?" Napoleon urged in a gentle whisper, ruffling Illya's hair.

"Connected, always."

"We are."

"I know. That's why it's silly, to worry about it, but-- I've lost you once. Now I have you again, and of course there is no way to be open about our relationship, but--" He let out a brief, less-than-happy laugh. "I can't even keep track of what it is I want to say."

"You do the same thing to me, if it's any consolation."

Illya turned, burying his face against Napoleon's neck, breathing in the sharp smell of sweat laden with sex. It was different, he reflected, when the sweat came from sex, than from other forms of physical exertion, or from heat. It somehow made you want more sex, no matter how tired or sated. Or maybe it was just Napoleon that did that to him.

He definitely wanted more Napoleon.

"It is a small consolation." He murmured, relaxing again.

"I love you."

"And I love you, lyubovnik."

"Did you want to get any plotting in before I have to go, or should we just cuddle?"

"Can we do both at once?" Illya asked, his hold on Napoleon tightening reflexively. "Revenge is important, but so is the cuddling."

"We can do both at once. We'll just save the intricate battle maps for next time." Napoleon grinned, pulling the covers up over Illya's bare back.

"First, before that... Napoleon, I know I know, but-- say it? Tell me again, swear it to me?"

"I will love you 'til the end of time, moj Illyushka." He avered, squeezing Illya's shoulders. "Until we die and even after."

"And I you." Illya echoed. "Now... revenge. If you can throw your weight around, maybe we can gain access to Leamas' confidential papers on us? Then we would have a better chance."

"I'll see what I can do. We have to be careful not to raise Waverly's suspicions, though."

"Mm. Bugger. It would be so much easier if we could just kill that Leamas bastard."

---

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