Secrets
Title: Secrets [a Distant Voices fic]
Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner
Pairing: Illya/Napoleon
Rating: PG
Summary: Confession is good for the soul.
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 20, 1975
Miranda Pike often wondered what secrets Alexander Kulik kept. He was a quiet man, friendly but always with a sense of wariness. In the last few years, she and her husband, the dean of students at Midwestern State University, had invited Dr. Kulik to their home for dinner, 4th of July barbecues, holiday parties. He always came alone, never stayed more than two hours unless the weather was poor, chatted politely but was not overly demonstrative.
He intrigued her, to say the least.
She knew he wasn’t interested in women. Of course, she found out the hard way when she tried to set him up with a friend of hers. John Francis had told her to leave well enough alone, but Miranda had to try. It wasn’t right that such a nice man was alone.
John Francis was out with his squash partner and wouldn’t be home for another two hours. She had begun to think about that evening’s dinner when the phone rang.
“Hello, Pike residence.”
She listened as the voice on the other line began to speak.
“Why, Alexander, of course you can come over this evening! And… you wish to bring a guest? Yes, yes, by all means, please do!”
She hung up the phone, pondering what the evening might hold for them. Alexander Kulik was bringing a mystery guest to their home. Curiouser and curiouser…
--
“Darling, we’re having company for dinner this evening.”
John Francis Pike put his feet up on the coffee table, and Miranda shooed them off almost immediately. He smiled; it was a ritual with them.
“Randi, you’ve invited someone?”
“No, darling, it’s Dr. Kulik. He’s bringing a friend. He said he had something very important to talk to you about and it needed to be this evening.”
Dr. Pike frowned, set down his iced tea. “That’s very unlike Alexander.”
“I know. To bring a guest…”
“I bet I know who the guest is. But why would he bring him to our home?”
“He? Alexander has a lover?”
Pike shook his head. “I don’t think he’s a lover. At least I don’t know if he is. Who knows with Dr. Kulik?”
Miranda came around the table and sat next to her husband on the sofa. “I wonder what he needs to talk to you about?”
Pike put his hand on his wife’s, squeezed tightly. “Oh, Randi. Who knows? All I’m curious about is whether or not I’ll get some dessert this evening? You know, I’ve got a taste for some sugar…”
“Oh, John Francis! You devil!”
--
Illya fidgeted in Napoleon’s car on the way to the Pike home. “What is he going to say? I’ve lied to him for almost five years, Napoleon. He’ll probably fire me.”
“Nonsense, tovarisch. I believe we can convince him that you were deep undercover for UNCLE and that the assignment is complete. If not, well, I can always have him contact Miss Dancer.”
“April! I haven’t talked to her in a long time. How is she, Napoleon?”
The older man chuckled. “She’s fine. Still partnered with Mark, moving their way up Section Two in the London office. April will probably take over there in a few years. Mark’s already CEA.”
“Good for them. And she will go along with this story we’ve concocted?”
Napoleon laughed again. “Of course she will. She wants us together, you know. She and Mark both do. Besides, I spoke to her last month and told her that I found you, the circumstances. She knows what to do.”
Illya slid his hand over to rest on Napoleon’s. “Well, we’re here. This is nerve wracking. I feel as though I’m letting Dr. Pike down.”
“Break his heart gently, Illyusha.” Napoleon allowed Illya to lead the way to the door.
Illya smiled, then rang the Pike’s doorbell. A short woman answered the door. “Alexander! How lovely to see you,” she sang out. “John Francis! Alexander is here!”
Pike came to the hallway. “Kulik! Please, come in. And your guest?”
“Dr. Pike, you‘ve met Napoleon already.” Pike nodded. Illya turned toward the short woman in the doorway. “Miranda, this is Napoleon Solo. Napoleon, this is Mrs. Miranda Pike.”
Miranda smiled. Her grin was huge. Her eyes were a luminous topaz color, her skin the color of a café mocha. “Napoleon. That’s unusual.”
“My parents were history buffs, madam.”
“Please, call me Randi. Shall we sit down, have a drink?”
They went into Pike’s sitting room, where Dr. Pike made them a round of brandy old fashioneds. “So, Alexander. What’s the story?”
Illya looked at his feet. “John Francis, I need to talk to you about something important. This is difficult for me to say…”
Dr. Pike smiled. “Is it that you’re dating Mr. Solo? I had a feeling there was something going on that you didn’t tell me about.”
“Yes. I mean, no. Yes, Napoleon and I are in a relationship, but that’s not what I need to talk to you about. Oh, Napoleon, I don’t know,” Illya sighed. He looked at his friend with pleading eyes.
“Illyusha… you can do this.”
Illya took a deep, calming breath. “Dr. Pike, I am… Oh, dammit. John Francis, my name is Illya Kuryakin.”
Dr. Pike paused in the middle of bringing his cocktail to his mouth. “What do you mean, your name is Illya Kuryakin? Your name is Alexander Kulik.”
Illya shook his head. “No, John Francis. Alexander Kulik is a pseudonym. I’ve been living undercover for five years.”
“So, you’ve lied to me, to your colleagues, to the university for five years?”
“Not really. I mean, technically, yes, I did lie to you, but I was working deep undercover for my employer.”
Dr. Pike scratched his head. “Which is?”
Napoleon reached over and squeezed Illya’s hand. “Dr. Pike, Illya and I both worked for an organization called The United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, or UNCLE for short. We were based out of New York, and he was my partner. He was one of the finest agents that UNCLE ever had, and devoted to his work.”
“Why Midwestern State?”
Illya looked at Napoleon. He hoped that he could convey the sincerity in the lie that he was going to tell. “This is a long, complicated story. I cannot get into the entire circumstances, but I was compelled to live under an assumed name until such time that I could come out of hiding.”
Dr. Pike shook his head. “But why my university?”
“No one would look for a Russian agent posing as a professor in a small, Midwestern college, would they? Especially one that I previously had no contact with.”
“Are you a spy, then?” Randi asked.
“No, not really. An agent for UNCLE, although no longer. I resigned a few years ago, but had to stay undercover until it was safe for me to resume my former life.”
Napoleon interjected, “He was so undercover, I didn’t know how to contact him. And he was my partner.” Napoleon squeezed Illya’s hand. “More than my partner.”
Randi shivered. “And you weren’t able to contact him for five years?” Illya shook his head no. “I couldn’t imagine living my life that way. Oh, Alexander, no wonder you were so desperately unhappy!”
Dr. Pike took his wife’s hand in a mirror image of Napoleon and Illya. “Sugar, he’s not Alexander anymore. Although it’s going to be difficult to remember this.”
Randi leapt to her feet, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Alex…Illya. Please excuse me.”
Her husband chased after her, leaving Napoleon and Illya alone in the room. “Illyusha. Do you know if they believe us?”
“Pasha, I hesitate to say,” Illya replied in Russian. “Dr. Pike is a very smart man. He might not think such a thing is possible.”
“Perhaps we should call April after all,” Napoleon said. He looked up as Dr. Pike returned to the room.
“My wife’s emotions got the best of her, gentlemen. I still need to get verification. Otherwise this will reflect poorly upon Midwestern State, and I cannot allow that.”
Illya bowed his head. “I thought you may feel this way. Napoleon has a contact at UNCLE that you can speak to. She was a colleague of ours and still within the organization.” Napoleon handed Dr. Pike a card with April Dancer’s number written on it.
Randi returned to the room, her large eyes puffy from crying. “Forgive me, Al…Illya. Am I saying that right?”
Napoleon smiled. “Rarely do people say his name correctly. It took me years to be able to say it properly.”
“And yet you still say it wrong all the time,” Illya replied dourly.
“Only because you love it,” Napoleon said, laughing.
Illya took his glasses off and rubbed his temples. “This is worse than any THRUSH interrogation I’ve ever had, Napoleon.”
Napoleon loosened his own tie and pulled his collar out slightly. “I know what you mean, partner. I didn’t quite realize the mess we were getting ourselves into.”
“You never do.”
Dr. Pike excused himself and headed straight to his office, closing the door behind him. Randi poured herself another drink and offered one to her guests. “I suppose this means you’ll be leaving us, Professor?”
“Actually, I was hoping that I…we…could stay. That is, if I still have a job.”
“I’m sure John Francis will do everything in his power to keep you employed. I know some things that you don’t, but I’m not at liberty to say. I’m sure you understand. Wife’s duty and all.”
The three were respectfully quiet for a moment, then Randi spoke. “Napoleon, Illya, I don‘t want to presume anything, but I just feel I need to say something. Obviously, you know that John Francis is white, and I am black. What you don’t know is that we met during the Freedom Rides. John Francis and I met on a bus, and fell in love almost instantly. I had to flee Mississippi because I dared to love a white man. I hope, sincerely hope, that you didn’t leave New York because you, too, dared to love a white man.”
The door of Dr. Pike’s office creaked open. Randi put her finger to her lips, a wry smile on her face. The dean sat next to his wife and began to speak to Illya and Napoleon. “Your Miss Dancer is a pleasant lady. She explained to me a little about what your organization does, and about your former job, Illya. Of course, I will need to speak with the board of regents, but I’m willing to keep you here. I don’t know if we can keep you in the Slavic studies department since you do not have a degree in that, but Miss Dancer mentioned that you have a few science degrees? That is fantastic news.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I like the Slavic studies department. And seeing as how I am actually Russian I don’t think you could have a better teacher in that regard.” Illya again rubbed his temples. “I haven’t been in the lab in over five years. I’m not sure I’d be a good instructor.”
“Again, Illya, I have to discuss all of this with the board of regents. This is a serious matter, and even though you were working undercover with the full cooperation of an international agency, it’s still unsettling to me. The board will not meet for another month. Until that time, you are under probation, which means you won’t be able to teach the first week of classes back from winter break. I will contact Grayling for you, inform him that you had an emergency and will not be available. I don’t plan on announcing this to the entire faculty, so your secret is safe with me. At least for the time being, “ Pike added.
Illya took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Thank you, Dr. Pike. I appreciate your faith in me. I promise you, I won’t let you down.”
--
Illya and Napoleon drove through the darkness toward Smithton.
“Partner mine, that went well.”
“I’m on probation,” Illya said miserably. “I don’t think that’s considered well under any circumstances.”
Napoleon put his hand on Illya’s thigh and squeezed. “Look at it this way. Now you can come to New York with me.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Pasha.”
Napoleon’s hand moved up Illya’s leg. “Sweetheart, I think it’s a marvelous idea.”
“I haven’t been back in years. I don’t know if I can go back.” Illya put his hand on top of Napoleon’s.
“I love you, Illyusha. We can do this together. I need to go back, and I need you with me.”
Illya sighed. “I can give you a few days. It would be nice to see April, though.”
“I figured you’d see things my way. Drive or fly?”
Illya smiled. “Fly. And if you’re lucky, you’ll have something special in the air.”
Napoleon couldn’t help but laugh.
FIN
Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner
Pairing: Illya/Napoleon
Rating: PG
Summary: Confession is good for the soul.
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 20, 1975
Miranda Pike often wondered what secrets Alexander Kulik kept. He was a quiet man, friendly but always with a sense of wariness. In the last few years, she and her husband, the dean of students at Midwestern State University, had invited Dr. Kulik to their home for dinner, 4th of July barbecues, holiday parties. He always came alone, never stayed more than two hours unless the weather was poor, chatted politely but was not overly demonstrative.
He intrigued her, to say the least.
She knew he wasn’t interested in women. Of course, she found out the hard way when she tried to set him up with a friend of hers. John Francis had told her to leave well enough alone, but Miranda had to try. It wasn’t right that such a nice man was alone.
John Francis was out with his squash partner and wouldn’t be home for another two hours. She had begun to think about that evening’s dinner when the phone rang.
“Hello, Pike residence.”
She listened as the voice on the other line began to speak.
“Why, Alexander, of course you can come over this evening! And… you wish to bring a guest? Yes, yes, by all means, please do!”
She hung up the phone, pondering what the evening might hold for them. Alexander Kulik was bringing a mystery guest to their home. Curiouser and curiouser…
--
“Darling, we’re having company for dinner this evening.”
John Francis Pike put his feet up on the coffee table, and Miranda shooed them off almost immediately. He smiled; it was a ritual with them.
“Randi, you’ve invited someone?”
“No, darling, it’s Dr. Kulik. He’s bringing a friend. He said he had something very important to talk to you about and it needed to be this evening.”
Dr. Pike frowned, set down his iced tea. “That’s very unlike Alexander.”
“I know. To bring a guest…”
“I bet I know who the guest is. But why would he bring him to our home?”
“He? Alexander has a lover?”
Pike shook his head. “I don’t think he’s a lover. At least I don’t know if he is. Who knows with Dr. Kulik?”
Miranda came around the table and sat next to her husband on the sofa. “I wonder what he needs to talk to you about?”
Pike put his hand on his wife’s, squeezed tightly. “Oh, Randi. Who knows? All I’m curious about is whether or not I’ll get some dessert this evening? You know, I’ve got a taste for some sugar…”
“Oh, John Francis! You devil!”
--
Illya fidgeted in Napoleon’s car on the way to the Pike home. “What is he going to say? I’ve lied to him for almost five years, Napoleon. He’ll probably fire me.”
“Nonsense, tovarisch. I believe we can convince him that you were deep undercover for UNCLE and that the assignment is complete. If not, well, I can always have him contact Miss Dancer.”
“April! I haven’t talked to her in a long time. How is she, Napoleon?”
The older man chuckled. “She’s fine. Still partnered with Mark, moving their way up Section Two in the London office. April will probably take over there in a few years. Mark’s already CEA.”
“Good for them. And she will go along with this story we’ve concocted?”
Napoleon laughed again. “Of course she will. She wants us together, you know. She and Mark both do. Besides, I spoke to her last month and told her that I found you, the circumstances. She knows what to do.”
Illya slid his hand over to rest on Napoleon’s. “Well, we’re here. This is nerve wracking. I feel as though I’m letting Dr. Pike down.”
“Break his heart gently, Illyusha.” Napoleon allowed Illya to lead the way to the door.
Illya smiled, then rang the Pike’s doorbell. A short woman answered the door. “Alexander! How lovely to see you,” she sang out. “John Francis! Alexander is here!”
Pike came to the hallway. “Kulik! Please, come in. And your guest?”
“Dr. Pike, you‘ve met Napoleon already.” Pike nodded. Illya turned toward the short woman in the doorway. “Miranda, this is Napoleon Solo. Napoleon, this is Mrs. Miranda Pike.”
Miranda smiled. Her grin was huge. Her eyes were a luminous topaz color, her skin the color of a café mocha. “Napoleon. That’s unusual.”
“My parents were history buffs, madam.”
“Please, call me Randi. Shall we sit down, have a drink?”
They went into Pike’s sitting room, where Dr. Pike made them a round of brandy old fashioneds. “So, Alexander. What’s the story?”
Illya looked at his feet. “John Francis, I need to talk to you about something important. This is difficult for me to say…”
Dr. Pike smiled. “Is it that you’re dating Mr. Solo? I had a feeling there was something going on that you didn’t tell me about.”
“Yes. I mean, no. Yes, Napoleon and I are in a relationship, but that’s not what I need to talk to you about. Oh, Napoleon, I don’t know,” Illya sighed. He looked at his friend with pleading eyes.
“Illyusha… you can do this.”
Illya took a deep, calming breath. “Dr. Pike, I am… Oh, dammit. John Francis, my name is Illya Kuryakin.”
Dr. Pike paused in the middle of bringing his cocktail to his mouth. “What do you mean, your name is Illya Kuryakin? Your name is Alexander Kulik.”
Illya shook his head. “No, John Francis. Alexander Kulik is a pseudonym. I’ve been living undercover for five years.”
“So, you’ve lied to me, to your colleagues, to the university for five years?”
“Not really. I mean, technically, yes, I did lie to you, but I was working deep undercover for my employer.”
Dr. Pike scratched his head. “Which is?”
Napoleon reached over and squeezed Illya’s hand. “Dr. Pike, Illya and I both worked for an organization called The United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, or UNCLE for short. We were based out of New York, and he was my partner. He was one of the finest agents that UNCLE ever had, and devoted to his work.”
“Why Midwestern State?”
Illya looked at Napoleon. He hoped that he could convey the sincerity in the lie that he was going to tell. “This is a long, complicated story. I cannot get into the entire circumstances, but I was compelled to live under an assumed name until such time that I could come out of hiding.”
Dr. Pike shook his head. “But why my university?”
“No one would look for a Russian agent posing as a professor in a small, Midwestern college, would they? Especially one that I previously had no contact with.”
“Are you a spy, then?” Randi asked.
“No, not really. An agent for UNCLE, although no longer. I resigned a few years ago, but had to stay undercover until it was safe for me to resume my former life.”
Napoleon interjected, “He was so undercover, I didn’t know how to contact him. And he was my partner.” Napoleon squeezed Illya’s hand. “More than my partner.”
Randi shivered. “And you weren’t able to contact him for five years?” Illya shook his head no. “I couldn’t imagine living my life that way. Oh, Alexander, no wonder you were so desperately unhappy!”
Dr. Pike took his wife’s hand in a mirror image of Napoleon and Illya. “Sugar, he’s not Alexander anymore. Although it’s going to be difficult to remember this.”
Randi leapt to her feet, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Alex…Illya. Please excuse me.”
Her husband chased after her, leaving Napoleon and Illya alone in the room. “Illyusha. Do you know if they believe us?”
“Pasha, I hesitate to say,” Illya replied in Russian. “Dr. Pike is a very smart man. He might not think such a thing is possible.”
“Perhaps we should call April after all,” Napoleon said. He looked up as Dr. Pike returned to the room.
“My wife’s emotions got the best of her, gentlemen. I still need to get verification. Otherwise this will reflect poorly upon Midwestern State, and I cannot allow that.”
Illya bowed his head. “I thought you may feel this way. Napoleon has a contact at UNCLE that you can speak to. She was a colleague of ours and still within the organization.” Napoleon handed Dr. Pike a card with April Dancer’s number written on it.
Randi returned to the room, her large eyes puffy from crying. “Forgive me, Al…Illya. Am I saying that right?”
Napoleon smiled. “Rarely do people say his name correctly. It took me years to be able to say it properly.”
“And yet you still say it wrong all the time,” Illya replied dourly.
“Only because you love it,” Napoleon said, laughing.
Illya took his glasses off and rubbed his temples. “This is worse than any THRUSH interrogation I’ve ever had, Napoleon.”
Napoleon loosened his own tie and pulled his collar out slightly. “I know what you mean, partner. I didn’t quite realize the mess we were getting ourselves into.”
“You never do.”
Dr. Pike excused himself and headed straight to his office, closing the door behind him. Randi poured herself another drink and offered one to her guests. “I suppose this means you’ll be leaving us, Professor?”
“Actually, I was hoping that I…we…could stay. That is, if I still have a job.”
“I’m sure John Francis will do everything in his power to keep you employed. I know some things that you don’t, but I’m not at liberty to say. I’m sure you understand. Wife’s duty and all.”
The three were respectfully quiet for a moment, then Randi spoke. “Napoleon, Illya, I don‘t want to presume anything, but I just feel I need to say something. Obviously, you know that John Francis is white, and I am black. What you don’t know is that we met during the Freedom Rides. John Francis and I met on a bus, and fell in love almost instantly. I had to flee Mississippi because I dared to love a white man. I hope, sincerely hope, that you didn’t leave New York because you, too, dared to love a white man.”
The door of Dr. Pike’s office creaked open. Randi put her finger to her lips, a wry smile on her face. The dean sat next to his wife and began to speak to Illya and Napoleon. “Your Miss Dancer is a pleasant lady. She explained to me a little about what your organization does, and about your former job, Illya. Of course, I will need to speak with the board of regents, but I’m willing to keep you here. I don’t know if we can keep you in the Slavic studies department since you do not have a degree in that, but Miss Dancer mentioned that you have a few science degrees? That is fantastic news.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I like the Slavic studies department. And seeing as how I am actually Russian I don’t think you could have a better teacher in that regard.” Illya again rubbed his temples. “I haven’t been in the lab in over five years. I’m not sure I’d be a good instructor.”
“Again, Illya, I have to discuss all of this with the board of regents. This is a serious matter, and even though you were working undercover with the full cooperation of an international agency, it’s still unsettling to me. The board will not meet for another month. Until that time, you are under probation, which means you won’t be able to teach the first week of classes back from winter break. I will contact Grayling for you, inform him that you had an emergency and will not be available. I don’t plan on announcing this to the entire faculty, so your secret is safe with me. At least for the time being, “ Pike added.
Illya took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Thank you, Dr. Pike. I appreciate your faith in me. I promise you, I won’t let you down.”
--
Illya and Napoleon drove through the darkness toward Smithton.
“Partner mine, that went well.”
“I’m on probation,” Illya said miserably. “I don’t think that’s considered well under any circumstances.”
Napoleon put his hand on Illya’s thigh and squeezed. “Look at it this way. Now you can come to New York with me.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Pasha.”
Napoleon’s hand moved up Illya’s leg. “Sweetheart, I think it’s a marvelous idea.”
“I haven’t been back in years. I don’t know if I can go back.” Illya put his hand on top of Napoleon’s.
“I love you, Illyusha. We can do this together. I need to go back, and I need you with me.”
Illya sighed. “I can give you a few days. It would be nice to see April, though.”
“I figured you’d see things my way. Drive or fly?”
Illya smiled. “Fly. And if you’re lucky, you’ll have something special in the air.”
Napoleon couldn’t help but laugh.
FIN