Illya sat Claire and Micheal, now dressed in their pyjamas, on the couch, sitting on a chair facing them. Napoleon leaned against the doorframe, holding Christian in his arms and feeding him.

"The witch gave Josephine three pairs of iron shoes and three iron walking sticks. 'You must walk to a place east of the sun and west of the moon,' she said, 'until you have worn out three pairs of iron shoes and three iron walking sticks. There you will meet my sister. She will help you'. So Josephine set off."

"How is she going to wear out three iron walking sticks?"

"With much walking." Illya answered. "And she did. She walked night and day, and when she reached the land east of the sun and west of the moon, her shoes were worn through, and her walking sticks nothing but handles, and her silk dress, which had once matched her eyes perfectly, was in tatters, and grey from dust."

"I wonder if she'll get to put it on an expense report." Napoleon murmured.

Illya shot him a glare. "Would you like to entertain them?"

"I don't know the end of the story." He smiled. "Looks like it's got to be you."

"All right. When she reached the home of the witch's sister, she found a woman who looked just like the one she had left. The old woman, also a witch, took her in. 'To save your prince, you must disguise yourself and go to the palace of the troll princess. These will help you once you arrive'. And she gave Josephine a tiny golden spinning wheel, a tiny golden spool, and a tiny golden thimble. And then she told the girl of a plan."

"What plan?"

"Well, if you would let me continue the story, you would find out, wouldn't you?" He asked testily.

"Honestly, lyubov, you're as bad as the children."

"Napoleon!" He reddened. "Firstly, I am not, and secondly... the children..."

"They don't speak Russian, Illya. Why, I could even say--"

"Don't." He said sharply. "Because *I* speak Russian, and I am trying to tell a story, and if you continue to dig for a reaction from me, eventually you will get one. Now may I?"

"By all means. I'd like to see how this turns out."

"So the next day, Josephine, disguised as a washerwoman, did laundry outside the window of the troll princess. When she knew that the princess was watching, she took the spinning wheel from her pocket and held it up to catch the sunlight. The greedy troll wanted it of course, and Josephine said that if she could spend one evening with the prince, she would give the spinning wheel to the princess."

"Then what happened?"

"The troll princess laughed and agreed. You see, the prince was under an enchanted sleep, to keep him there until the wedding. So when Josephine was led to his chambers for the night, she could do nothing to rouse him."

Napoleon snickered, earning another glare. "Behave yourself. Josephine cried and cried, but the prince did not wake. In the morning, she was led outside. Once again, she washed clothes under the window of the troll princes, and once again, the princess saw her play with one of the little golden objects."

"Which one?"

"The spool. And so again the princess demanded, and again the girl asked to spend the night with the prince. And again, she could do nothing to wake him. She went back to the witch in tears the next day, and being a generally good witch, and very wise, she told Josephine how to save her one true love."

"I want a drink of water." Micheal interrupted.

"All right." Illya sighed, standing. "Napoleon? Kitchen?"

They met in the kitchen, Napoleon cradling the now-sleeping baby, watching him fondly.

"There is a slight problem, Napoleon..." Illya whispered under the sounds of the running water.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I haven't heard this story since I was four years old. I don't remember how she rescues the prince."

"So make something up. Or, I could make something up."

"Really?" He scoffed.

"Really. You want me to?"

"No. Actually, yes. I would like to see how your version turns out."

They returned to the living room, Illya handing Micheal the glass of water.

Napoleon beamed. "Now, Illya here is getting tired. It's past his bedtime, you see, so I'm going to finish telling you the story."

Claire looked skeptical, but finally nodded. Illya gave his partner a murderous look after the bedtime line, but kept quiet.

"It was the third day, and Josephine's last chance to see the prince. She tried waking him, to no avail, but--"

Illya stood, moving to whisper in Napoleon's ear. "I think I remember,"

"I'm telling the story now." He hissed back.

"She dresses him in a shirt she has washed seven times, and he wakes up."

"Well, it's no 'true love's first kiss', but all right..." He turned back to their young audience. "She dressed the prince in a shirt that she had washed seven times. In her own tears." He embellished.

Illya nodded once. "An acceptable detail."

"And the prince awoke. He was thin and pale from imprisonment in the evil troll palace, but he was still very handsome, as is the rule among fairy tale princes. 'Josephine' he smiled, overjoyed to see his true love had come to his rescue. 'My love' she replied. Then she reached into a pouch that the witch had given her, taking out several magical explosives that she could use in their escape--"

"Napoleon, that part I know is wrong. Because she came to rescue him, the troll princess has no hold over the prince, and true love wins out."

"I like this way better." Micheal shook his head.

Illya sighed. Magical explosives... grandmothers everywhere would turn in their graves. Though it did have a certain appeal. Perhaps Napoleon's version wouldn't be so bad.

"She set them up around the castle, taking the prince's hand. 'Now we have to run' she said. So they ran, and behind them, the castle exploded into a million magic fireworks, and all of the evil trolls were turned to stone, and the Josephine took the prince back to their own palace. And after they both had a nice hot meal, a nice hot bath, and a good night's sleep--"

"The prince already slept a lot."

"But Josephine didn't sleep at all. So she needed to rest. Anyway, after all of that, they spent many years going on adventures in exciting far-away lands."

"They most certainly did not. You just made that part up." Illya snorted.

"Did they fight dragons?" Micheal asked, excited.

"They might have. They fought rocs."

"Rocks?"

"R-o-c."

"What's a roc?" Claire asked.

"Well, it's a very big bird that likes to capture people to feed to its babies. It's big enough to carry two elephants through the air, one in each claw."

"I think the children have to sleep now. You mustn't wind them up."

They sighed in unison, getting up from the couch.

"Tuck us in." Micheal demanded.

Napoleon shrugged, looking over to his partner. He placed Christian in the bassinet and followed the two older children to their room, tucking the covers around Micheal's shoulders while Illya watched from the doorway.

He moved to Claire's bed next, but she shook her head. "I want Illya to tuck me in."

"Illya? The lady's asked for you."

He sighed and tucked her in.

"Do I get a kiss?"

"Your mother will no doubt kiss you when she returns home."

"I can't sleep if I don't have one."

"Nonsense."

"Go on, Illya. I think it's cute."

"You seem to view this evening as a series of opportunities to infuriate me, Napoleon." But nonetheless, he bent down to kiss the girl on the forehead. "Now sleep."

Claire closed her eyes obediently, and the two spies left the room, closing the door gently.

"And do I get a goodnight kiss?"

"You didn't behave."

"I changed the baby and fixed dinner. Besides, I believe you complained that nobody behaved, so the point is moot." He reasoned, leading the other man over to the couch.

Illya acquiesced quickly, and had just begun to kiss his lover when the key sounded in the door. Immediately, he was on his feet, ready to go for his gun if the person on the other side was anyone but the parents.

It was, however, the parents, and he relaxed. Roxanne paused by the bassinet in the living room, checking on Christian. She seemed to be satisfied with his condition.

"Eddie, dear, be a love and wheel him back into the nursery? I'm going to check on Claire and Micheal."

"As you wish." He made a low, sweeping bow. "Thanks again, you two. I hope they weren't too much trouble."

Illya was about to open his mouth when Napoleon spoke. "Perfect angels."

"I suppose you conveniently forgot the part where they let the dog in?"

"At least the dog cleaned up the food they threw."

"But he made a mess of the palm tree."

"It's okay." Eddie laughed. "The tree's not a problem. I'm just sorry they caused trouble for you."

"It really wasn't a problem." Napoleon soothed. "After all, we're trained to deal with matters of international security. Putting a dog out was no big deal."

Roxanne re-entered, smiling. "Claire woke up, but she's not going to stay awake for long. They had a great time. She said she wants Illya to babysit for them next time."

He looked over to Napoleon, eyes wide.

Napoleon grinned back. "Looks like someone's got a crush on you."

"No. Napoleon, don't you dare accept..."

"I suspect I wont have to." He shrugged. "If it's meant to be, Uncle Alexander will volunteer us."

"Maybe we'll be lucky and THRUSH will kidnap us instead."

~FIN~

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This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." are property of Norman Felton and Warner Bros. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.