//It seems we've stood and talked Like this before We looked at each other in the same way then But I can't remember where or when//

Napoleon's mood brightened instantly as Illya entered the room. Funny how Illya could have that effect, even though he himself was brooding. He took the tea over to the sofa, sitting next to his partner.

"Something wrong?"

Illya shook his head. "No. Well, possibly. I don't know."

"Would this help?" Napoleon asked, offering the mug.

"Lemon?" Illya asked, perking up a little.

"And sugar."

"You let yourself run out of honey?"

Napoleon shrugged, then winced. "Yeah, well, you know how it is."

"No... I don't run out of things. Napoleon, are you hurt? Your shoulder..."

"Everyone runs out of things, Illya." He said, ignoring his partner's question.

"Let me see it, Napoleon." The blond demanded flatly, pushing a hand out of the way. "You're bleeding... Napoleon, we have to get you to--"

"If you take me, then they'll want to know how it happened, and then I'll have to say I was rescuing you, and then they'll want to examing you, too. So if you're ready to go to medical, Illya, let's go. I'll get your coat."

He glared. "I am perfectly fine. You are the one who is bleeding."

"It's just a little blood, Illya, it's not even bleeding right now."

Illya shook his head. "You should see a doctor. You were shot, weren't you."

"Grazed me." Napoleon admitted. "You can look at it yourself if you like, it's not deep. We can go to medical now or in the morning. *Both* of us."

"I will look at it." Illya nodded. "And then I will tell you whether or not you will require immediate medical attention. *You*."

Napoleon sighed and followed Illya into the bathroom.

---/-/---

Illya peeled the bloodstained shirt back from Napoleon's shoulder very carefully, the first aid kit balanced on his knee.

Napoleon was sitting on a stool that he had brought in from somewhere, Illya on the edge of the tub, next to a wet washcloth. So far, Napoleon had been telling the truth-- not much blood, just a little soaked into his shirt.

Illya's stomach turned as he uncovered the wound, small as it was. He was not a squeamish man, but the fact that it was Napoleon weighed on his mind. It was just a graze, but he saw that it could have easily been much more.

"Negodyaj." He whispered.

"What?"

"I said 'bastard', Napoleon." He sighed, gingerly wiping away the drying blood.

"He barely even--"

"I meant *you*."

"Me?" He straightened, shocked.

"I could have lost you."

"Illya, it was nothing."

"Not just this... a million times before. All the times you risk your life, almost get yourself killed, just to save me, and I'm always just some sort of bait, and--"

"I'm a bastard because I *save* your life?"

"Yes." Illya said fiercely, meeting Napoleon's eyes. "You don't understand. You can't be a one-man cavalry all your life. You're too valuable."

"Nah, I'm lousy without you." He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

"You had one of the most brilliant track records I've seen, *before* our partnership."

"Well, now I'm something more than me. I'm half of us." Napoleon shrugged.

Illya swore under his breath as the shoulder moved. "Please take this seriously, Napoleon. For once in your life. It's not a game."

"I know it's not a game. I do take my life seriously. I've got a will, a backup will should something happen to my main beneficiary, and a detailed set of instructions. But I take your life seriously, too."

Illya bandaged his friend's shoulder, thinking over everything that had been said, and anything he could say.

"Illya?"

"After we get some sleep, I want you to see a real doctor."

"Okay." Napoleon smiled fondly. "When we head back to HQ, you can escort me to medical."

"You just want me to go, too." Illya scowled, hands on hips. "I wasn't shot."

"You're still upset."

He nodded. "I am. I-- Napoleon, I've been thinking a lot recently, about how sometimes you think you can say a thing later, but there's not a later for everyone."

"If we're going to have a deep talk, can we do it someplace more comfortable?" Napoleon asked, getting to his feet and holding out a hand. "The edge of my tub will not wonders for your back do."

Illya nodded, accepting the help up.

---/-/---

To be continued...

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