Napoleon kept his eyes on Illya all throughout dinner, putting his partner on edge.

"Are you going to continue to stare all evening?" Illya asked, blushing.

"Well, I do like the view."

"You're making me nervous. I can't eat when you're staring at me."

"Well, if you're not going to eat, there are other things I can think of..." He reached across the small table, taking Illya's hand.

The blond's fork clattered to his plate.

"Napasha, I need to eat."

"You were the one who said you couldn't." He shrugged, smiling broadly.

"Well, all the attention you're paying me is somewhat... distracting."

"Illya, Illya, Illya... it is you, moy droog, who is the distraction... the way the light hits your hair, the way you lick your lips between bites... the way you blush if I watch you long enough."

"I do not."

"You're doing it right now. Speaking of doing it right now, are you quite finished, because we could be."

Illya snorted. "You do have a one-track mind. And no, I haven't finished. I would be done by now if you hadn't been spending the evening distracting me, so you've no one to blame but yourself for the postponement of your orgasms."

"Okay." Napoleon purred, releasing the hand and rising from the table. "You finish your meal. I'll go pour a couple more drinks and see if there's a record under your bed we can agree on as mood music. And Illya... *Our* orgasms."

Illya nodded absently, impaling another small potato dumpling.

Napoleon poured another vodka and another brandy, setting them aside for the time being while he rummaged through the records his partner kept scattered about. Some had been moved to the relative safety of the bookshelf, but a handful remained on the floor under and around the bed. He placed an instrumental Gershwin piece on the turntable, waiting for his partner to join him before starting the music.

---/-/---

Williams stared, horrified, at the body chained to his wall.

"What?" Leamas sneered. "Don't pussy out on me now, Holden. I thought you were going to kill her anyway."

"Not on my carpet..." He grimaced, placing a hand over his stomach. "John... there's splatters of red evidence everywhere now!"

"You're rich, Holden. No doubt you have people who take care of this sort of thing for you."

"What gets blood out of carpet?"

"Speaking of 'splatters of red evidence'... I suppose I'll be making some sacrifices to get what I want?"

"All part of the game." Williams shrugged, still looking mildly unsettled.

"After all, THRUSH has to think I'm being cooperative, and they're going to want to see some results. A body count. Something more than just wresting control away from Alex."

"Your organization is getting the last laugh." Williams persuaded.

Leamas surprised him again with his next, altogether-too-cooperative answer. "I know just the man to take the fall."

---/-/---

James Newton stared at his communicator, willing it to chirp. With April, Rob, and Danny out investigating Leamas, Mark in medical, and Ginger in the CEA's office, he was feeling a little out of the loop, and more than a little worried.

His prayers were given their two-tone answer.

"Newton!" He said breathlessly, uncapping the device.

"It's Ginger." The softly-accented voice intoned. "I've found the letter, thanks to my favourite little agent."

"The cat led you to this letter you've been going on about?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yes. What's so hard to swallow about that?"

"Nothing." He sighed. "I still don't understand why it's so important, or why you have to be involved."

"James, this letter is from Illya to Napoleon, and is the remains of a love affair. It's the most beautiful-- and quite frankly the most intensely erotic-- missive I've ever laid eyes on. Not that I've had any of my own to compare it to, but I've read famous ones. Anyway, this isn't about me, it's about them, and--"

"And if you do leave it out, even if he reads it, what makes you think that's going to solve all the problems? What if instead of remembering, he thinks it's recent and unprecedented? What if he loses it? What if it causes a rift instead of repairing one?"

"I've left an accompanying note of my own. 'Dear Mr. Solo- You and your partner have been lied to. Leamas has erased memories like this from your minds.' Signed 'A Concerned Party'."

James sighed again. "I just hope it words. And I just hope you don't get into trouble."

"Sweet of you, but it's not going to kill me to get into a little trouble for once in my life. Lawson out."

He capped the communicator, his movements harsh. "What if it does, Gin? What would I do then?"

---/-/---

"Richards."

"Danny?" The voice over the communicator crackled. "It's Rob. Donahue? April and I have the file Leamas turned in to Waverly."

"What does it say?"

"We-- uh, we don't know yet. It's Eyes Only..."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Circumstances, man. Anyway, I've got the itinerary. Last place Leamas was driven was to the office of some Holden Williams guy."

"The businessman?" April's voice, slightly muffled, came over the line.

"I guess."

"What's Leamas doing meeting with Holden Williams?"

"Dunno. We got a file on him?"

"We might. We might as well check." Danny could picture Donahue's shrug. "Donahue out."

Danny Richards ran a hand over his face. Whatever he'd gotten himself into, it was deep, and it was dark.

---

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