Mr. Waverly watched as Claire and Micheal were put into his car. His driver left with the children, and he turned to follow his captors in.

---/-/---

Napoleon threw his weight against the door, breaking it down.

The woman looked up, startled. "Oh!"

Illya lay on the table, bruised and just slightly bloodied. The guard reached for his gun, but Napoleon was quicker. The man went down before he could even get his weapon unholstered.

"Illya!"

An alarm sounded, and five more THRUSH goons rushed in, giving the woman a chance to escape while Napoleon had his hands full. He fought his way over to the table, where he quickly unbound his partner.

Illya's head lolled to one side and he opened his eyes, sliding off the table with some assistance. Napoleon knelt on the ground, cradling the smaller man, letting the damp head rest on his shoulder.

"Illya... are you all right? Listen, we've got to find a way to get Mr. Waverly out of this place... can you help me or do I need to get you out first?"

"No... 'm fine..." He struggled upright, but sank back into his lover's arms. "Just give me a minute... 'm wet."

"So I noticed. That's a nasty cut... are you sure you want to come with me? I can get Waverly's chauffer to circle back and pick you up. He's got the kids by now."

"No." Illya was firm. "No. Not riding in the car with the children..."

"Oh, they couldn't have been that bad, love." He kissed the top of the blond head.

"I don't want them to see me like this. 's traumatic."

"You're really very sweet, aren't you?"

"It's a secret. Now what's the plan for getting Mr. Waverly out?"

"Well, there, ah, isn't one. Or rather, he didn't tell me what it was before we, ah, split up."

"He didn't give you any instructions?"

"All Mr. Waverly gave me was a book. James Fenimore Cooper, to be exact."

Illya grabbed it from him. "Napoleon... do you have a pocket knife?"

"Well, yes, but--"

He took that as well, slicing the spine of the book and pulling out a strip of... something.

"Brilliant."

"Microfilm?"

"Explosive." He thumbed through the pages. "Ah. Read page 42, Napoleon."

"This isn't Cooper... this is instructions. It says 'Mr. Solo; by now you have Mr. Kuryakin with you. Hidden in the back cover you will find several different antidotes, if they are necessary. In the spine is a strip made up of a special explosive film, and in the front cover is a fake document on microfilm. You will offer to exchange the documents for myself, showing them only the microfilm, but leaving both strips when we make our exit. A second driver has been met on the road by now, and will make his way here to pick us up. You will set the explosive for five minutes as we leave.'"

"Very brilliant." Illya grinned, getting weakly to his feet. "Come on... we've got a plan to carry out."

"Here. I brought something for you." Napoleon reached into his pocket, pulling out a second revolver. "I believe this is yours? You miss it?"

"Dreadfully. I wanted to shoot that child. But I thought you were just happy to see me."

"Let's go. If they don't agree to the trade, we can just shoot them."

"Risky, though. They do have Waverly."

"That's why shoot and run is the backup plan." Napoleon shrugged, offering his arm.

They headed down the corridor, leaving the slashed book behind.

---/-/---

April laughed. "You did *what*?"

"Miaow."

Ginger stroked the length of DeLeon's orange-striped tail. "Kissed Mark."

"Oh, you didn't!"

"Why not?"

"I don't know, because he's Mark. You just don't kiss Mark."

"You don't kiss Mark. I kissed Mark."

"Well, then because you need somebody to ask you, and not because I ever want to know, how was it?"

"All right. Oh, don't make that face, I didn't kiss him at all passionately. Just a little kiss."

"Why, might I ask?"

"I wondered what it would be like." She shrugged.

DeLeon complained again, and climbed onto her lap.

"And?"

"And now I don't wonder."

"Well, do you want to continue kissing him? I mean, do you like him?"

"I like him fine. Oh-- you mean do I fancy him. I don't know. I did when I first came. I mean, he was the only other Brit I ever ran into, and he's not unattractive, but... I don't think I could ever date a section two agent, really. I mean, it's so dangerous."

"So you just kissed my partner?"

"You're not going to go all overprotective on me, are you?"

April considered this. "I guess not."

"Next time, I'll do the proper thing and declare my intentions." Ginger promised, raising her right hand solemnly.

"What are these intentions?" April asked conspiratorially.

"Firstly, to remain Mark's friend. Secondly, to intercept as much of Napoleon's mail as possibly, incoming *and* outgoing, as he's bound to reply, and thirdly, to at least *talk* to James."

"James? Who is James?"

"Oh, you wouldn't know him. He's just a scientist. He's rather dreamy though."

"Ginger, you really can't kiss Mark and then declare intentions for some scientist. Besides, there's no such thing as a dreamy scientist."

"Illya's a scientist."

"But he's also a spy, that evens things out." April sighed. "Look, declare for whoever you want, so long as my partner doesn't get hurt."

"Deal."

"Miaow."

"Okay, I won't hurt you either." She rubbed the cat's cheeks before handing him over to April. "But I do have to get back to work."

---/-/---

To be continued...

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