MFUfic Round Robin Number 2 - Part One.
By KatrianaV
Illya gulped the last of the vodka, the bitter liquid stinging his split lip as it passed. He put his pen down, picking up the still cold bottle and pressing it against the bruise beginning to form on his left cheek. The raw skin of his knuckles stretched painfully as he flexed the cramped fingers of his right hand. Sighing wearily, he read again what he had written. Satisfied at last, he slipped the letter into an envelope and scrawled the name of his partner across the front.
Terse and vague, exactly as it should be. Cold, impersonal words that revealed nothing. It was certainly better than the torn up remnants of its predecessors lying in the ashtray. Those had contained too much information, too much truth, too much.feeling. Closing his eyes, he breathed, "It shouldn't be this hard." Cursing his weakness, he swiftly carried the ashtray to the bathroom and flushed the bits of paper, watching them swirl and disappear on their way to the sewers of New York. Leaving the ashtray on the bathroom counter, he strode purposefully to his bedroom, grabbing his suitcase as he went through.
A wave of dizziness coursed over him as he entered the living room. Dropping the suitcase, he braced himself against the desk waiting for it to pass, his eyes coming to rest on the small gold cigarette lighter Napoleon had given him just last week on the first anniversary of their partnership. He had been sincerely touched that his partner had valued the occasion enough to mark it with a gift, and more than a little embarrassed that he had not thought to have one for Napoleon.
Regret momentarily swamped the Russian, regret that he couldn't say goodbye to Napoleon in person, that he couldn't at least have left him that first letter he'd written. It had been a full expression of his regret at leaving, and of his gratitude for the friend who had seen past the aloof, prickly barricades he'd erected to the lonely young man beneath. It had been a letter worthy of his friend. Even though Napoleon would never see, never hear the words, it had given Illya a small measure of comfort to put his feelings down on paper, to admit the truth of them. It was as if the strength of them was more real to him now, a reality he could carry with him, something that no one could take away.
Illya had always known he'd have to leave New York eventually. His position at NY HQ was never meant to be permanent. In fact, it was tenuous at best from the start, both UNCLE and the Soviet government reserving the right to sever their relationship at any time. Against all odds, the relationship had flourished, courtesy of one brilliant, stubborn blonde agent. He'd nevertheless thought someday he might be transferred to another UNCLE office, known certainly that someday he'd be recalled by the Soviet Union. He never thought he'd have to leave like this, slinking away in the night, leaving his home much the same as it was when he moved in, except for a few dozen books and one small gold lighter.
'And just when did I start to think of this as home?' he smiled fondly as he surveyed the small living room with it's secondhand , but still comfortable furniture, and worn paint that, even so, lent the room a warm glow. Perhaps the first time his partner had called him "tovarisch" and meant it. Taking a deep breath, Illya picked up his suitcase again, and headed for the door. Hesitating, he turned back, and smiling ruefully, plucked up the gold lighter, tucking it into his inside jacket pocket. A year ago, he never would have believed he could become so attached to a rundown apartment in a strange country, to the sentiment represented by a gift, to an arrogant, insufferable American. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to regret these attachments, even though their loss would cause him untold pain in the coming days.
Resolutely, he turned back to the door. As he neared it, he was startled out of his reverie by a loud banging accompanied by a sharp voice commanding, "Open up!"
Squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, Illya exclaimed, "Damnit! What is he doing here now?"
Next......To part 2