//"Well, there is this family thing that is passed down from generation to generation." he said.//

Illya regarded Napoelon's puzzled look and then shook his head, suddenly uncertain. So very much had happened these last few dark days that adding yet another seemingly inane tale to the mix would surely send the American running for the proverbial hills...and he didn't want that. He truly did not want that. "It...it is nothing important," he murmured, nothing that cannot--" A gentle hand tilted the Russian's head upwards by his chin until blue eyes met dark brown. "What..?"

"Lyubov..." Napoleon said tenderly. "I may act the fool, but I am no idiot and somewhere during this nightmare, I have come to the conclusion that nothing was left to chance -especially you. Tell me."

A familiar, brief smile touched Illya's lips -yes...somehow, when he looked into those dark eyes, he knew that if nothing else, there would be no cruel laughter, no mockery. He glanced around himself -Waverly had moved a distance away and was issuing commands through his communicator, and the howling winds had settled to a whisper. A star or two had begun to peep from breaks in the thick black/grey clouds. "In Russia, beliefs run deep and strong from generation to generation -Communism has not changed that and never will. In my family, there has always been a child pledged to the Church and annointed with...'gifts' to further the fight against the Darkness."

Napoleon remained silent, but nodded for the blond agent to continue. Illya sighed, shivering slightly, and started when he realised that Napoleon had reached out, drawing him closer, warding off the chill. "I would have been trained in the Way, but when I was orphaned, I was trained in the way of the State instead. I put aside what I was taught were foolish notions. I was...afraid to dwell on them...to feel. I put up a wall." Illya's eyes were bright. "I think I forgot for a time. It was safer to remain closed up."

A memory of that dour ice-cold exchange agent that he had been introduced to those years ago fluttered before Napoleon's mind's eye. Somehow, even then, he had known that the ice could not be soul-deep, that there was something below the emotional tundra. "But your gifts did come back -and in time too."

Illya nodded, eyes downcast, afraid to look up anymore. "Only because something more powerful than my fears and the State training finally broke through that wall."

Napoleon hesitated -did he dare believe..? "What?"

"You."

---

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