Once the dishes were in the sink, Illya joined his lover.

"Hey, I was waiting." Napoleon grinned, stroking the blond's cheek.

He smiled, returning the gesture. "I didn't mean to keep you."

"Mm... you're worth it." Napoleon murmured, starting the record.

Illya allowed himself to be pulled into a long, slow kiss, surrendering complete control for the time being. He emerged breathless, and slightly unsteady, leaning heavily against Napoleon's arms for support.

"Oh, dear... what's all this dizziness? I thought that I came here on business."

"I always thought it was 'You've made my life so glamorous, you cannot blame me for feeling amorous'?" Napoleon asked, nipping at his partner's earlobe.

"I suppose it all depends on the version you're familiar with, and which verse. But business *is* our legitimate excuse for meeting tonight."

"Of course. What business is it tonight?"

"As far as anyone knows, proofing reports." Illya picked up his vodka. "Though really, we will be making love and plotting revenge."

"In that order, I hope." Napoleon downed his own drink, wrapping his arms around his lover once more.

"We don't have all the time I'd like tonight..." Illya whispered sadly, returning the embrace. "You have to go back to your apartment before the night is out. In case we are being monitored."

"Yeah." He breathed, nuzzling his partner's hair. "But as long as I'm here, we can enjoy ourselves. And, you know, plot revenge."

"Someday, Napasha... I will spend every night in your arms."

"Someday." Napoleon promised, leading Illya to the bed. "Someday, we'll grow old together."

"No guarantee we'll grow old." Illya replied sadly, sitting heavily on the mattress' edge.

"We'll grow old together." He repeated fiercely, pulling Illya down to lie against his chest. "You and me. Every night, one bed, two bodies. And we'll have photo albums, and on our anniversaries, we'll drink champagne."

"I don't care for the smell." Illya shook his head.

"Well, what do you like? And something special, not the same thing you drink every other time."

He cocked his head to one side, considering this. "Mead."

"Mead?"

"Mead."

"That's special, all right. Okay, you'll drink mead, and I'll drink champagne, and we'll read poems to each other in bed, and feed each other fruit. Strawberries, if they're in season."

"What is our anniversary?" Illya questioned, stroking Napoleon's chest absently.

"I think it's close to my birthday... a little after. It's okay, we'll remember."

"But then strawberries wouldn't be in season."

"We'll freeze them." Napoleon suggested. "What would you have us feed each other in bed?"

"Chocolate." Illya answered without hesitation. "Possibly in syrup form, or melted down and drizzled over your body..."

"Well, hot fudge definitely sounds better than melted wax."

Illya shuddered. "Don't suggest that. Warm chocolate is one thing-- and edible, too. Hot wax is-- I don't know. I don't find the idea terribly arousing. In my experience, if you're pouring very hot liquids over a person, then that person is being interrogated, or possibly just tortured. And having been tortured for practical purposes, I simply cannot understand why anyone would want to do such things for-- for sex."

Napoleon chuckled warmly. "Well, if you want to lick melted chocolate from my body, I will certainly not complain. And if you *don't* want to cause me physical pain, I will also certainly not complain. Of course, if you ever did want to just tie me up, I might still not complain..."

"Nyet."

"It's actually rather--"

"No. I've seen you tied up, and I don't like it."

"But it's different when it's for fun, lyubov... who knows, you might like it."

"I wouldn't. It might remind me... and there *are* things I would rather not remember."

"Well, we don't have to. It's not like it's a favorite, just a suggestion. What about you? Is there anything you *do* want to try?"

"Right now? Right now I just want you to make love to me."

"You know, I was just thinking the very same thing..." He smiled, pulling Illya down onto the bed.

Napoleon undressed the other man slowly, worshipfully, lips travelling over newly-exposed skin. He had just undone Illya's belt when the blond flipped their bodies over, kissing Napoleon fiercely.

"Actually..." He panted, breaking the kiss. "I think I would like to make love to you."

"I'm still not complaining." Napoleon grinned. "I'm all yours, lyubov."

"Yes... all mine. No one else's." He unbuttoned Napoleon's shirt hastily, pushing the fabric down over the other man's shoulders, nipping and sucking, first at Napoleon's throat, then his clavicle.

Illya moved down Napoleon's chest, then back up for another heated kiss, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers as all his attention poured into his partner's mouth. Napoleon gladly submitted to the sensory assault, deciding that they must have switched off in the past as well, and that he would enjoy any form of lovemaking with Illya.

"We have." Illya voiced his thoughts, pulling back. "I remember it... you let me before, too."

"Let you?" Napoleon snorted. "Funny, I recall begging you."

Illya smiled. "You really want me to take you?"

"Don't make me beg you again..."

He nodded, grabbing the lotion from his bedside. "If I can't keep you here all night, Napoleon... when you go home, you'll be thinking about me the rest of the night. You'll see me every time you close your eyes... the way I have, after you made love to me."

---/-/---

He looked over to the girl in the car beside him, wrapped in his trenchcoat. She looked like she was sleeping, but he knew better. After all, he'd killed her himself.

"You know, baby, I've wanted to plug you for thirty years." Leamas said, brushing a loose tendril of hair back from her face. "Too bad they can't just give you a glass heart, huh?"

There was a rap on the car window, and he rolled it down. Holden Williams leaned in. "Are you sure you don't want someone to drive you? It's not the smartest thing, walking in there alone."

"I'll go alone." He shook his head. "After I dump Charles. You know, the first time we met, before I got put on your case, it was in Berlin..."

"Look, I can't just stand out here all night. If I can't persuade you to take some backup--"

"Maison something-or-other... I was trying to get information out of her, she was trying to get information out of me, and we both failed. Next time we meet, she plucks my eyeball out, and thirty years later, it's tonight, and I pay her back with interest."

"Fine, go." Williams sighed. "But watch yourself. Remember, you're dealing with the same people who sent Lydana. If you didn't think twice about killing her, don't think you'll be safe with her masters."

"I'll be safe, because I'm promising Alex." He started to roll the window back up. "You should watch yourself."

---/-/---

~Thirty Years Ago- Williams Enterprises, NY~

John Leamas scanned the front lobby, waiting. Behind him, an elevator opened, and a man approached.

"About time." He said, giving the man only a cursory glance.

"I checked on Mr. Williams." His companion replied in a clipped accent.

"Yeah?"

"No problems there. I made certain security was tight."

"Yeah."

"We really do need more full-time field agents." The man tsk-ed. "I have important work of my own to get to. Can I trust you to handle this?"

"What do you mean can you trust me? I've been handling everything since we got word THRUSH was involved here. Why shouldn't you trust me to handle myself now?"

"Well, you could hardly expect me to leave off without asking, just in case. Known THRUSH agents have been spotted in the area."

"Any more since the last time I was given dossiers?" Leamas asked.

"Just one. Lydana Charles." He shrugged. "Yay high, dark hair, green eyes."

"The kind of legs you'd kill to ha--"

"What do you know of her legs?"

"Slept with her once. Berlin. And don't get preachy on me, 'cause you're no saint yourself. I know."

"I wasn't preaching, I was asking. It's no concern of mine, so long as you don't let anything slip."

"Nope. Neither did she, unfortunately. If she had, we might've gotten the drop on THRUSH here."

"What were you doing in Berlin, John?"

"Passing through. You remember, I got laid over unexpectedly."

"More importantly, what is THRUSH doing in Berlin." He said, having obviously paid no attention to Leamas' last answer.

"Dunno." Leamas shrugged. "She was supposed to meet some German guy, I know that much."

"Well, as troubling as the thought of THRUSH working in an already-unstable Europe is, I've got more pressing matters at the moment."

"Whatever they're doing there won't have any lasting repercussions. We'll stop 'em before they do anything big. Right now the important thing is their corporate espionage here. Like anything important could happen over with some guy in Germany." He snorted.

---/-/---

April stopped, handing the Williams file over to Donahue.

"Take this back down to the lab. Everyone's meeting there."

"Where are you going?" He asked, looking between her and the files.

"Medical. I've got to go check on my partner."

"I thought it was nothing serious."

"It's not." She sighed. "I think they like to keep some people longer than usually necessary, because they know that if you let them out, they'll just go and re-hurt themselves. Of course, they can't hold onto all section two agents as long as they probably ought to."

Donahue nodded, having been called in on one occasion when several orderlies had failed to keep Kuryakin in medical. "Maybe not all section two agents *should* be kept for as long. Some of them terrorize the medical staff."

She laughed. "Right. Well, tell the others I'll be down before the night is out."

---

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