“So Valentine, it’s come to this then?” The dark haired man leaned against the bar and sighed heavily.

“Da. It’s been coming a long time don’t you think?” The smaller man exuded an aura of menace as he stalked forward the black ten gallon hat pushed back to reveal spikes of sweat matted blonde hair. Spurs clinked as he took slow measured steps and closed in on his prey.

“So how are we going to play this out then? Pistols at dawn? Arrows through the heart?” Dark eyes glittered with unshed tears as he saw the scowl deepen.

“Really Napoleon must you be so dramatic.” Illya huffed.

“I nearly lost you again, and through my own stupidity this time.”

Soft lips brushed moist ones as he tipped the dark head up. “It was stupidity, almost as bad as calling me a Japanese buyer! Really Napoleon, blonde haired, blue eyed RUSSIAN Cowboy in a small mid west town, complete with accent??? What were you thinking?”

“You had the best qualifications to do the job, besides I don’t hear an accent.” Napoleon defended.

“Bozhre Moi! Hear it now? Everyone else does! Luckily they will hear it for a long time to come.”

“Forgive me?”

“For making me do my job? What’s to forgive? For making me wear this stupid outfit just so you could see me in spurs and a cowboy hat? Hoping I’d get saddle sores so you could rub ointment into them?” Illya frowned.

“So what will it take?” Napoleon sketched a look at his partner and admitted he really, really did like the look, but perhaps with a few less clothes on and in the bedroom.

“Roses Napoleon, long stemmed red roses.” Illya suddenly smiled and kissed him quickly again.

“How many dozen?” Napoleon smiled and leaned into the hot embrace, enjoying the scent of sweat and leather.

“Just one.”

“One dozen?”

“No Napasha, like you just one. Now I need to change.”

“Alright, but Illya can we take the hat and spurs home?”

“Kinky Napoleon, would you like me to bring the riding crop as well?” Blue eyes glittered with mischief as he swung his hips and headed out the door.

Napoleon thought of many things to still his wayward body and nothing, but nothing could keep the sight of Illya naked on a bed of rose red satin, dressed only in cowboy boots and hat, from his imagination. Unfulfilled and painfully hard Napoleon forced himself to breath and looked at the clock.

It was going to be a very, very long day.