Commitment
Title: Commitment [a Distant Voices fic]
Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner
Pairing: Illya/Napoleon
Rating: PG
Summary: As one love is nurtured, another grows cold.
Distribution: Please ask me first, otherwise go for it!
Disclaimer: I totally do not own The Man From U.N.C.L.E. - if I did, I wouldn't leave my house.
--
December, 1975
“Illya, what does Jacob like to do for fun?” Napoleon asked over Friday’s paper.
Illya heaped more scrambled eggs onto his plate and stole the last rasher of bacon from Napoleon’s. “Well, you know he comes over every Friday to watch his television show. He likes to read. His favorite is John le Carre. He likes to go hiking in the summer. He likes hockey. I think, though, his favorite thing to do is go fishing, particularly ice fishing. Why do you ask?”
The older man nibbled on the last of his toast, then took a swig of his orange juice. “I thought it would be nice for us to get to know each other a little better. If I did it on his ground, so to speak, it might be easier.”
Illya stopped shoveling eggs in his mouth long enough to mumble, “That’s a fine idea, Napoleon.”
That evening, Jacob stopped by with a meatloaf prepared by his mother, then went into the living room. Napoleon put the pan into the oven to reheat and began to peel potatoes. “Oh, Jake,” Napoleon called out. “I’d like to know if you’d be willing to go fishing with me tomorrow?”
“Sure! I just bought a new bobber and I’d love to test it out. You want to meet at my house, say 8:00 in the morning?”
“That would be fine. Do I need to bring anything special? I’m not much of an ice fisherman, but I thought I’d learn from a native.”
The young man stepped back into the kitchen, his dark eyes twinkling. “Just a thermos of your favorite hot beverage and gloves, that’s really all you’ll need. Doc’s got a spare reel and rod you can borrow, and I’ve got lots of lure and stuff. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yes, Mom makes sure I eat before I come over. Crap, look at the time! I’m going to miss the beginning!” Jacob ran back into the living room to watch his new favorite show.
Illya walked into the apartment as Napoleon began to mash the potatoes. “I see Jacob’s watching his program.”
Napoleon, deep in thought over the correct ratio of milk to butter, frowned. “Let the boy have his fun. He’ll learn that it’s all not flashy cars and attractive women.”
“I’m sure he knows that already. I’m just afraid he’s going to want to solve crime as effectively as those characters on his show.”
“He’s no dummy, Illya. It’s just exciting to him to see what he wants to do week in and week out, and they are the heroes.” Napoleon stuck his pinky into the potato mixture and lifted a fluffy blob up to his mouth. “Mmm. Perfect. Dinner is served, moy droog.”
The two men ate Pauline’s meatloaf, Napoleon’s potatoes, and the leftover cake from a department holiday party that Illya had taken home two nights before.
Jacob stuck his head in the kitchen. “Hey, Doc. Napoleon’s going to need to borrow your fishing gear. 8:00, right?”
Napoleon nodded. Jacob smiled. “Looking forward to it, sir. Good night, all.”
Illya cleaned up the dishes and while he stood at the sink, Napoleon came up behind him and nuzzled his neck. Illya laughed as Napoleon’s loose forelock tickled his skin. “You’re so affectionate, my friend.”
“It’s nice to have a reason to be affectionate.”
Illya turned around and kissed Napoleon’s cheek. He put his arms around Napoleon’s neck, the soft soap bubbles dripping onto his sweater. “Yes, it is. You want to go to bed early? Sounds like you might have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”
Napoleon’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, partner mine, I want to go to bed, but I don’t plan on getting any rest.”
Illya smirked and he brushed his lips against Napoleon’s. “You are incorrigible.”
--
“Starsky or Hutch?”
“Pardon, sir?”
Napoleon smiled and watched as his lure bobbled slightly. “Who do you think you’re more like? Starsky or Hutch?”
Jacob reached over, grabbed his thermos and took a long swig of coffee. “Never thought of it before. I think I’m more like Hutch. I’d like to be more like Starsky, though.”
“That’s interesting. Why?”
Jacob took another drink of his own coffee. “He’s a good cop. He’s street smart. I don’t know, I think he’s really cool.”
“And that’s what you’d like to be? A good, street smart, really cool cop?” The younger man nodded. Napoleon continued. “I was just curious. So, do you want to be a beat cop, or a detective, or a homicide detective?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. I’d just like to do something that makes a difference. The right thing.”
“Jake, did Illya ever tell you about what we did?”
Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Your FBI-CIA mob thing?”
Napoleon laughed. “Uh, no. Not quite. The organization we worked with was an international law enforcement agency. Illya and I were the best agents in New York.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. In fact, I was the heir apparent to our boss, Mr. Waverly. I was chief enforcement agent. Illya was my right hand man, my partner, and also a force to be reckoned with in the lab. We worked well together.”
They were both quiet for a while, focusing on fishing and the howl of the wind against the shanty walls. Finally, Napoleon broke the silence.
“So. Illya told me about you and Laurie.”
Jacob hung his head and played around with the reel. “What did he say?”
“You were going to ask her to marry you, and then you found out she was seeing someone called Dicky?”
“That’s partially true. I didn’t tell Doc everything.”
Napoleon took a drink from his rapidly cooling thermos, then took a bite of pound cake that Pauline had packed for them both. “Would you mind telling me? I promise I won’t tell Illya if you don’t want me to.”
“I… I would have still asked her to marry me, even if she was seeing Dicky. I never told her she had to be exclusive. I was, and I assumed that she was, too. But no, that’s not why.”
“That would have been a bad idea. What happened, Jake?”
As Jacob talked, Napoleon could see it all unfolding in front of him.
The two young people were walking around the lake, hand in hand, and Jacob began talking about long term relationships. He thought it would be an easy way to guide the conversation to marriage, anxious to present the symbol of his commitment to her. Jacob brought up Napoleon and Illya’s relationship.
“Ugh. I think it’s awful.”
“Why? I think it’s nice. Doc’s not so lonely anymore and Napoleon’s a pretty neat guy.”
Laurie made a face. “It’s sick. It’s wrong. Next you’re going to say that you think it’s okay that they are probably in that house making out.”
Jacob looked genuinely surprised. “I do think it’s okay. I mean, not for me, it’d be weird for me. But everyone needs someone, Laurie. And they have each other.”
“Ugh!” she said again, disgusted. “How can it be okay? Professor Kulik is a pervert!”
Jacob dropped her hand as if he had been burned. “How can you say that? After all the things Doc has done for you, for both of us over the years? You never thought he was a pervert before!”
“Well, he wasn’t out there kissing boys and having... Well, you know! It was like he was a priest or something, and it was okay because he wasn’t, well, he just wasn’t!”
“So if he was celibate, it would be okay.”
“Sure. Because it’s not like he’s really,” Laurie looked around and whispered, “Gay.”
Jacob frowned. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”
Laurie shook her head. “I’ve always felt this way. I mean, it’s fine that you like Professor Kulik and all, as a friend, but.. I mean, seriously, Jay, you spend too much time over there. I swear, sometimes Dicky and I…”
“Dicky? Dicky?” Jacob’s voice rose slightly. “You do remember that Dicky beat the shit out of me a few years ago?”
“Oh, come on, Jay. That was just a misunderstanding. Dicky’s awful sorry about it.”
“Dicky’s awful sorry about it? What the hell? You’ve got to be shitting me, Laurie. Jesus, I feel like I don’t know you any more.”
The two were quiet for a minute or two, until they stopped in front of Laurie’s house. Jacob took a deep breath, sighed, and then stuck his hand into his pocket. He felt the box in his pocket, which once filled him with hope, and now filled him with dread and sadness.
“Laurie? I’d like my class ring back.”
“Why? Because of this stupid loyalty to your guitar teacher?”
Jacob barked a harsh laugh. “No. Because you’re not the kind of person I want to know, if you’re so narrow minded. Give me the ring, and we’ll just put this behind us.”
“Jacob… you’re breaking up with me? Because of an old man and his boyfriend?”
“No. We’re breaking up because of me. I’ve grown up a lot. I guess you haven’t. Now give me my god damn class ring, Laurie. We are through.”
“Jake, I’m sorry,” Napoleon said. “I feel horrible, that you’ve broken up with your girlfriend because of us.”
“Don’t feel bad, Napoleon. I’m glad I found out now, instead of after we had already gotten engaged. I think it would have hurt a lot more.”
“Still… it’s sad when love dies.”
The pair fell back into an easy, peaceful silence. “Honestly, sir, I don’t know if it was love. Was it, really, if she didn’t love me back?”
Napoleon smiled. “Oh, Jake. I forget how young you truly are. Of course it was love, on your part at least. Love can be one sided. But real love, something that lasts? That’s something that has to be shared. Trust me on this one.”
Jacob pulled the rod out of the hole. “Real love is something you and Doc have.”
The older man sighed. “I suppose it is. We wasted five years being stupid.”
“But you aren’t stupid now.”
“Right again. I think you’re going to make one hell of a detective, Jake.” Napoleon shook his head and took the lure off the hook to put back into the tackle box. “Let’s head back.”
The two walked back to Jacob’s house. Pauline met them at the door with a hot cup of coffee and an invitation for dinner for Napoleon and Illya. Napoleon smiled, but told her that they had already made dinner plans. He drove back to their home and walked into the apartment. Illya was sitting at the kitchen table, essays strewn across its surface, his fingers stained red with ink.
“Oh, Napoleon. Did you have any luck?”
Napoleon took off his hat and gloves, came up behind Illya and wrapped his arms around him. He kissed his neck. “No fish, if that’s what you’re alluding to. But Jacob and I had a nice time.”
“Good,” Illya said distractedly.
Napoleon kissed him beneath his ear. “I love you, Illya.”
Illya put the pen down and stretched himself further into Napoleon’s embrace. “Dorogoi. What brings this about?”
“Nothing. I just thought you should know.”
FIN
Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner
Pairing: Illya/Napoleon
Rating: PG
Summary: As one love is nurtured, another grows cold.
Distribution: Please ask me first, otherwise go for it!
Disclaimer: I totally do not own The Man From U.N.C.L.E. - if I did, I wouldn't leave my house.
--
December, 1975
“Illya, what does Jacob like to do for fun?” Napoleon asked over Friday’s paper.
Illya heaped more scrambled eggs onto his plate and stole the last rasher of bacon from Napoleon’s. “Well, you know he comes over every Friday to watch his television show. He likes to read. His favorite is John le Carre. He likes to go hiking in the summer. He likes hockey. I think, though, his favorite thing to do is go fishing, particularly ice fishing. Why do you ask?”
The older man nibbled on the last of his toast, then took a swig of his orange juice. “I thought it would be nice for us to get to know each other a little better. If I did it on his ground, so to speak, it might be easier.”
Illya stopped shoveling eggs in his mouth long enough to mumble, “That’s a fine idea, Napoleon.”
That evening, Jacob stopped by with a meatloaf prepared by his mother, then went into the living room. Napoleon put the pan into the oven to reheat and began to peel potatoes. “Oh, Jake,” Napoleon called out. “I’d like to know if you’d be willing to go fishing with me tomorrow?”
“Sure! I just bought a new bobber and I’d love to test it out. You want to meet at my house, say 8:00 in the morning?”
“That would be fine. Do I need to bring anything special? I’m not much of an ice fisherman, but I thought I’d learn from a native.”
The young man stepped back into the kitchen, his dark eyes twinkling. “Just a thermos of your favorite hot beverage and gloves, that’s really all you’ll need. Doc’s got a spare reel and rod you can borrow, and I’ve got lots of lure and stuff. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yes, Mom makes sure I eat before I come over. Crap, look at the time! I’m going to miss the beginning!” Jacob ran back into the living room to watch his new favorite show.
Illya walked into the apartment as Napoleon began to mash the potatoes. “I see Jacob’s watching his program.”
Napoleon, deep in thought over the correct ratio of milk to butter, frowned. “Let the boy have his fun. He’ll learn that it’s all not flashy cars and attractive women.”
“I’m sure he knows that already. I’m just afraid he’s going to want to solve crime as effectively as those characters on his show.”
“He’s no dummy, Illya. It’s just exciting to him to see what he wants to do week in and week out, and they are the heroes.” Napoleon stuck his pinky into the potato mixture and lifted a fluffy blob up to his mouth. “Mmm. Perfect. Dinner is served, moy droog.”
The two men ate Pauline’s meatloaf, Napoleon’s potatoes, and the leftover cake from a department holiday party that Illya had taken home two nights before.
Jacob stuck his head in the kitchen. “Hey, Doc. Napoleon’s going to need to borrow your fishing gear. 8:00, right?”
Napoleon nodded. Jacob smiled. “Looking forward to it, sir. Good night, all.”
Illya cleaned up the dishes and while he stood at the sink, Napoleon came up behind him and nuzzled his neck. Illya laughed as Napoleon’s loose forelock tickled his skin. “You’re so affectionate, my friend.”
“It’s nice to have a reason to be affectionate.”
Illya turned around and kissed Napoleon’s cheek. He put his arms around Napoleon’s neck, the soft soap bubbles dripping onto his sweater. “Yes, it is. You want to go to bed early? Sounds like you might have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”
Napoleon’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, partner mine, I want to go to bed, but I don’t plan on getting any rest.”
Illya smirked and he brushed his lips against Napoleon’s. “You are incorrigible.”
--
“Starsky or Hutch?”
“Pardon, sir?”
Napoleon smiled and watched as his lure bobbled slightly. “Who do you think you’re more like? Starsky or Hutch?”
Jacob reached over, grabbed his thermos and took a long swig of coffee. “Never thought of it before. I think I’m more like Hutch. I’d like to be more like Starsky, though.”
“That’s interesting. Why?”
Jacob took another drink of his own coffee. “He’s a good cop. He’s street smart. I don’t know, I think he’s really cool.”
“And that’s what you’d like to be? A good, street smart, really cool cop?” The younger man nodded. Napoleon continued. “I was just curious. So, do you want to be a beat cop, or a detective, or a homicide detective?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. I’d just like to do something that makes a difference. The right thing.”
“Jake, did Illya ever tell you about what we did?”
Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Your FBI-CIA mob thing?”
Napoleon laughed. “Uh, no. Not quite. The organization we worked with was an international law enforcement agency. Illya and I were the best agents in New York.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. In fact, I was the heir apparent to our boss, Mr. Waverly. I was chief enforcement agent. Illya was my right hand man, my partner, and also a force to be reckoned with in the lab. We worked well together.”
They were both quiet for a while, focusing on fishing and the howl of the wind against the shanty walls. Finally, Napoleon broke the silence.
“So. Illya told me about you and Laurie.”
Jacob hung his head and played around with the reel. “What did he say?”
“You were going to ask her to marry you, and then you found out she was seeing someone called Dicky?”
“That’s partially true. I didn’t tell Doc everything.”
Napoleon took a drink from his rapidly cooling thermos, then took a bite of pound cake that Pauline had packed for them both. “Would you mind telling me? I promise I won’t tell Illya if you don’t want me to.”
“I… I would have still asked her to marry me, even if she was seeing Dicky. I never told her she had to be exclusive. I was, and I assumed that she was, too. But no, that’s not why.”
“That would have been a bad idea. What happened, Jake?”
As Jacob talked, Napoleon could see it all unfolding in front of him.
The two young people were walking around the lake, hand in hand, and Jacob began talking about long term relationships. He thought it would be an easy way to guide the conversation to marriage, anxious to present the symbol of his commitment to her. Jacob brought up Napoleon and Illya’s relationship.
“Ugh. I think it’s awful.”
“Why? I think it’s nice. Doc’s not so lonely anymore and Napoleon’s a pretty neat guy.”
Laurie made a face. “It’s sick. It’s wrong. Next you’re going to say that you think it’s okay that they are probably in that house making out.”
Jacob looked genuinely surprised. “I do think it’s okay. I mean, not for me, it’d be weird for me. But everyone needs someone, Laurie. And they have each other.”
“Ugh!” she said again, disgusted. “How can it be okay? Professor Kulik is a pervert!”
Jacob dropped her hand as if he had been burned. “How can you say that? After all the things Doc has done for you, for both of us over the years? You never thought he was a pervert before!”
“Well, he wasn’t out there kissing boys and having... Well, you know! It was like he was a priest or something, and it was okay because he wasn’t, well, he just wasn’t!”
“So if he was celibate, it would be okay.”
“Sure. Because it’s not like he’s really,” Laurie looked around and whispered, “Gay.”
Jacob frowned. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”
Laurie shook her head. “I’ve always felt this way. I mean, it’s fine that you like Professor Kulik and all, as a friend, but.. I mean, seriously, Jay, you spend too much time over there. I swear, sometimes Dicky and I…”
“Dicky? Dicky?” Jacob’s voice rose slightly. “You do remember that Dicky beat the shit out of me a few years ago?”
“Oh, come on, Jay. That was just a misunderstanding. Dicky’s awful sorry about it.”
“Dicky’s awful sorry about it? What the hell? You’ve got to be shitting me, Laurie. Jesus, I feel like I don’t know you any more.”
The two were quiet for a minute or two, until they stopped in front of Laurie’s house. Jacob took a deep breath, sighed, and then stuck his hand into his pocket. He felt the box in his pocket, which once filled him with hope, and now filled him with dread and sadness.
“Laurie? I’d like my class ring back.”
“Why? Because of this stupid loyalty to your guitar teacher?”
Jacob barked a harsh laugh. “No. Because you’re not the kind of person I want to know, if you’re so narrow minded. Give me the ring, and we’ll just put this behind us.”
“Jacob… you’re breaking up with me? Because of an old man and his boyfriend?”
“No. We’re breaking up because of me. I’ve grown up a lot. I guess you haven’t. Now give me my god damn class ring, Laurie. We are through.”
“Jake, I’m sorry,” Napoleon said. “I feel horrible, that you’ve broken up with your girlfriend because of us.”
“Don’t feel bad, Napoleon. I’m glad I found out now, instead of after we had already gotten engaged. I think it would have hurt a lot more.”
“Still… it’s sad when love dies.”
The pair fell back into an easy, peaceful silence. “Honestly, sir, I don’t know if it was love. Was it, really, if she didn’t love me back?”
Napoleon smiled. “Oh, Jake. I forget how young you truly are. Of course it was love, on your part at least. Love can be one sided. But real love, something that lasts? That’s something that has to be shared. Trust me on this one.”
Jacob pulled the rod out of the hole. “Real love is something you and Doc have.”
The older man sighed. “I suppose it is. We wasted five years being stupid.”
“But you aren’t stupid now.”
“Right again. I think you’re going to make one hell of a detective, Jake.” Napoleon shook his head and took the lure off the hook to put back into the tackle box. “Let’s head back.”
The two walked back to Jacob’s house. Pauline met them at the door with a hot cup of coffee and an invitation for dinner for Napoleon and Illya. Napoleon smiled, but told her that they had already made dinner plans. He drove back to their home and walked into the apartment. Illya was sitting at the kitchen table, essays strewn across its surface, his fingers stained red with ink.
“Oh, Napoleon. Did you have any luck?”
Napoleon took off his hat and gloves, came up behind Illya and wrapped his arms around him. He kissed his neck. “No fish, if that’s what you’re alluding to. But Jacob and I had a nice time.”
“Good,” Illya said distractedly.
Napoleon kissed him beneath his ear. “I love you, Illya.”
Illya put the pen down and stretched himself further into Napoleon’s embrace. “Dorogoi. What brings this about?”
“Nothing. I just thought you should know.”
FIN