"Always?" Illya asked, fingers idly twisting his napkin as he studied
Napoleon.

"Of course. A gentleman always keeps his promises." Napoleon grinned,
exuding even more than his usual charm.

Illya tried to mask the feeling that came over him then, tried to
rationalize it. He liked being able to rationalize things, it meant
that he was in control. There had to be a reason, a real, normal
reason why his stomach should turn and tingle just when it did. A
reason other than the American's brilliant smile.

Not attraction, Illya told himself firmly. Guilt, then. Because he had
promises he could not keep. Failures in the past, conflicting
interests... he had broken a promise before, to his family, a promise
he'd made before he could even understand the weight of it. He was
going to be forced to break another promise very soon, either to
Mother Russia or to the U.N.C.L.E. and Napoleon.

That smile... he couldn't break a promise to this man. But how could
he break his promise to his homeland? Why did this KGB mole have to
ask things of him that he could not do?

---/-/---

Napoleon leaned forward, ostensibly to keep the food over his plate as
he ate, but if he was being completely honest with himself, to get
closer to his temporary-- if they worked well together, maybe more
than temporary-- partner.

Illya. The name was alien to the tongue at first, but even when he
first heard it, he had liked it. It fit the young man, had a slightly
exotic old-world flavour... it sounded right, and saying it felt right.

Women, Napoleon reminded himself. You like women. A lot. And you're
not overly-picky, either. So why aren't you looking at any of them?
Why didn't you so much as check out that last waitress who passed the
table? Because you were looking at Illya. Illya. Well, in case you
haven't noticed, he scolded himself, Illya is a man.

And what a man, he replied silently.

Napoleon Solo continued to smile genially, hiding the fact that he was
almost certainly losing his marbles.

---/-/---

Illya continued to glide through the small-talk, wishing that they
could discuss something more... more substantial. Not work, of course,
not here. But something more than this. He wanted to know about
Napoleon, about the man's likes and dislikes. He wanted Napoleon to
want to know about his, a feeling totally new. Normally, Illya
preferred that people not take too great an interest in him. But when
Napoleon Solo paid attention to a person, that person felt somehow
better than they were, and he had quickly found himself addicted to
that feeling.

---/-/---

The meal wound down, and Napoleon paid the check, assuring Illya that
he could write it off on the expense report. He wondered if anyone had
told Illya about his past... exploitations of expense reports. He
didn't want the other man to think poorly of him, and he wasn't sure
which Illya would be more disapproving of- possible abuse of UNCLE
funds or a lack of personal frugality. However, his worries seemed
moot, as Illya merely nodded and waited to follow him out.

---/-/---

---

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.