Napoleon awoke to the feeling of being watched; opening his eyes he stared into worried blue ones. "Hi." He whispered.

Illya smiled. "Would you like a drink of water?" Before he could answer the doctor came in.

"Your awake, how are you feeling?"

Napoleon swallowed. "Dry." He muttered.
 
The doctor smiled. "It is normal; you have an IV that will keep you hydrated I don't want anything solid in your stomach until I am sure there is not going to be any complications." He finished checking on his patient and turned to Illya. 

"Mr. Waverly wants to see you." He informed him. 

Illya nodded but looked at Solo. "Go on, don't keep him waiting. I will be fine." The older agent assured him. With a sigh the blond turned and left the room. The graying doctor shook his head. 

"For someone that usually is colder than ice your partner refused to leave your side. He kept slipping in so I finally had the nurse move a bed in for him. He quite breaking the rules and got some sleep as well."

A smile tugged at Napoleons lips. "He does tend to be stubborn. Could you ask Mr. Waverly to stop in to see me when he has a moment?" Napoleon asked the doctor. The doctor nodded and left the room.

Lisa Rodgers looked up as he entered. "How is Napoleon?"

"He is awake." Illya answered. "Mr. Waverly wants to see me?"

She blushed. "Yes, go right in."

The old man looked up as the door slid open. "The doctor informs me that Mr. Solo is awake and doing as well as can be expected." He said as he motioned the younger agent to a chair.
Sliding into a chair the blond was silent waiting for him to continue. Waverly returned his gaze. "What happened? How did he get shot? Who shot him?" The questions were barked out in quick succession.

Illya took a deep breath; he knew Mr. Waverly was not going to like his answers." I do not know. We were not working on anything  at the time. Just keeping tabs on the science convention per your orders." He replied softly. The older man scowled at him. "Well
go to your office and write up a report on what little you know." He ordered gruffly. Pulling a stack of papers towards himself he started reading them. Knowing that he had been dismissed Illya stood up and left the room. The old spy continued to sign papers
till he was sure that the younger man had had time to get to hisoffice.

"Miss. Uh Rodgers would you step in Please." When she entered he handed her the signed papers. 

"I am going down to medical if you need me." He told her as he walked to his private elevator.

Knocking on the door he entered the room.

"Thank you for coming, sir." Napoleon greeted him.

"I assume you did not want Mr. Kuryakin to be at this meeting? " Waverly stated.

"Um. I thought it would be best if he was not." The dark haired man replied. Steely eyes locked with his.

"Why is that?"

" Illya was the target for both gunmen. I turned and walked right into the second shooter." Napoleon admitted.

The head of U.N.C.L.E. stared at his C.E.A.. "I will not even demean you by asking if you are sure." He stated.

"I am sure. Someone is trying to kill Illya. I am also sure they will try again! I just do not know why or who." Waverly sat silently for a moment.

"I will start gathering information in that area. It might be a good thing you are in here, at least I can make up something to keep Mr. Kuryakin in headquarters for a few days." He said.

"What would that be sir?" Napoleon asked.

"Why your sudden turn for the worse, one can not expect one's partner to be running about when their partner might not live." He said . "I must get back to the office and start to work on who wants our favorite Russian deceased." Standing he walked out the door.

Napoleon lay there with his mouth open. "Favorite Russian!" Was Mr. Waverly feeling alright? A slow smile spread across his face. Clever old fox, he did care about the taciturn little blond!

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