Waverly Ex Machina

[cm_fic]

Title: Waverly Ex Machina [a Distant Voices fic]

Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner

Pairing: Illya/Napoleon

Rating: PG

Summary: Illya must finally come to terms with his secret life.

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.

Author's Notes: Well, after a writer's block of epic proportions, I am pleased to offer up a new Distant Voices fic to you. The title is a little tongue-in-cheek, because sadly I could not think of another way to do the things I needed to do. However, I did have a friend look it over and she thought it worked out all right. Also, I would like to give a shout-out to the_wretching for a conversation that helped me reshape certain aspects of the fic that I didn't like. Thank you, t_w.

-----

Illya had been awake most of the night, reading and drinking tea. He would have rather had vodka, but the board of regents would have terminated him immediately if they even suspected that he had drank. He was nervous; this afternoon would be the determining factor as to whether he could continue in this job at this university. He had been at Midwestern State for five years, and he loved it. It was, quite honestly, the most fulfilling job he had ever had. He enjoyed working for UNCLE, and the excitement and glamour of the job, but teaching did something for him that he had never expected. He loved Midwestern State and would be despondent if he were found to have violated some code of ethics and had to leave it behind.

Napoleon would accompany him to the hearing, but would not be allowed to testify. Dr. Pike was aware of their relationship and thought it best to not have to subject Napoleon to intense questioning by the board as to try and keep Illya‘s private life private. Illya drank another cup of the strong tea and thought about the people who were coming to testify on his behalf. April Dancer had spoken to Dr. Pike and said that she would attend. Jacob and Pauline would testify to his life in Smithton, and would also be a character witness. They received letters from a few UNCLE colleagues around the world, as well as a signed letter from one of Illya’s former professors at the Sorbonne. He had hoped that he could get a character reference and testimony from Mr. Waverly, but he knew that the Old Man was in exceedingly poor health. He didn’t want to further damage a man who had done so much to keep him safe.

He hoped it was enough; the witnesses, the letters, the body of work that he had to show the board of regents. He worried it wasn’t.

Illya heard Napoleon’s alarm clock ringing and decided to take his shower. He walked into the cramped bathroom, began running the water. He set out his soap and razor, and looked at himself in the mirror as the water got hotter. He saw the dark circles under his eyes, the intense look of worry on his face.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered.

He stripped down and entered the shower, standing under the hot water and allowing the pressure to beat on his neck and shoulders. Illya fell to his knees, a few errant tears slipping out. He did not want to face the board; he did not want to try and explain the rash decisions that came to overwhelm his life to a committee of strangers. He did not want to leave Smithton, or the life he had built, or Jacob. Especially not Jacob.

Jacob was his son, as far as he was concerned. He had never thought that he could feel so close to a human being who wasn‘t a lover, but he loved the young man with his whole being, and thinking that he would have to leave him behind was a loss that sliced at his heart.

He felt Napoleon enter the shower, placing his hand on the small of his back as he knelt down behind him.

“Tovarisch, you’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, no matter what.”

Illya rose up, turned around, and found himself engulfed in Napoleon’s arms. “This is so hard,” he said softly, the water from the showerhead mixing with the tears that began to flow in earnest.

Napoleon kissed his partner’s temple, held him tighter. “We’ll get through it.”

Illya breathed deeply again, feeling Napoleon’s steady heart beat through his skin, and it grounded him. Napoleon’s luck was legendary, and if he were indeed lucky, maybe some of it would rub off on him while he sat waiting for the ax to fall.

----

He wore his best suit jacket, the tweed one with suede patches, and the blue shirt and tie combo because it made him look professorial. He adjusted his glasses and cleaned them for the eleventh time. Napoleon put his hand on Illya’s shoulder, in an attempt to calm him.

“It’s now or never,” Napoleon said.

Illya nodded, breathed deeply, and walked into the room.

The board were already sitting at their panel, Dr. Pike in the middle of the table. Miranda Pike sat to the side, offering a silent but forceful show of support. Illya looked around. He saw April Dancer, her hair now woven with grey, cut close around her face. She wore a fine suit and looked every inch the law enforcement professional that she was. He saw Pauline and Jacob, both of whom seemed as nervous as he was. Napoleon took a seat near them. Grayling was there, in quiet defense of his professor.

“This meeting will now come to order,” Dr. Barry, the gentleman seated next to Dr. Pike, began. “Now, we shall proceed with these hearings…”

Two hours crawled by, Illya sitting stone faced while these six men and women held his life in their hands. April, Pauline, and Grayling all gave powerful testimony. The board considered all the evidence brought forth, and finally called Jacob to testify.

The young man was visibly nervous. “Good morning,” he said, his voice cracking. “My name is Jacob Liebhaber. You’ve heard from my mother, Pauline, who works at the University. I am a student here, and also a lifelong resident of Smithton. I want to ask you, as sincerely as I can, to allow Doc… I mean, Dr. Kuryakin to remain a part of the faculty of Midwestern State.

“Not only has he made a difference in our community,” Jacob continued, “but he has made a difference in me. My father died when I was young, and I had begun to do things that a young boy shouldn’t do. But I met Dr. Kulik, as he was known then, and he began to teach me music. Not only music, but life. He taught me the value of an education, how to listen to my mom, how to treat people, how to be a better man. He taught me all of those things, and he teaches all of his students these things.”

Jacob looked directly at the board, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Doc has helped to mold me into the person I am today, and I know that there are a lot of other kids out there who feel like I do. He’s… Illya Kuryakin, by any name, is an asset to Midwestern State University. You should be proud to have him as a professor here. You would never be able to find a better person.”

Miranda Pike sniffled a little, and Dr. Barry looked uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Mr. Liebhaber, for your impassioned defense of Mr. Kuryakin,” Barry began. “I believe we’ve heard all that we need to, unless, Mr. Kuryakin, you also wish to speak?”

Illya took his glasses off and wiped them clean with a handkerchief. “I do wish to speak, briefly. And it’s Dr. Kuryakin, as I do hold a degree issued to me from Oxford.”

“I stand corrected,” Barry said.

“Thank you, sir.” Illya rose to his feet and faced the number of people who had come to plead his case before the Board of Regents. “These people have known me both before my time at Midwestern State, and during. But what you should know is who Illya Nicktovetch Kuryakin is now. Ladies and gentleman, Illya Kuryakin and Alexander Kulik is one and the same. I have never stopped being either of them. I shall continue to be both of them. Kulik, in name, might not exist, but he and I are the same.“

He spoke about his employment with UNCLE, how he had joined them on behalf of the Soviet government, and had devoted his life to the concept of law enforcement and global peace. He did not elaborate on why he went underground, only saying that it had been an issue due to his working for UNCLE.

Illya looked each board member in the eye as he continued. “I enjoyed working for UNCLE, and I often wondered if I would ever be allowed to return to New York to continue my stated employment, but as the years came and went, I found myself loving Smithton, loving Midwestern State, and considering it home.

“Have you ever walked down Greek Street after a big campus party and heard the students singing the alma mater? Or, for that matter, walked up Leary Hill after a football game against Tech and been caught up in the fire and passion of our kids here?” Illya asked. “I have. I have enjoyed those things, and I have enjoyed working with you, Dr. Pike, on making our Slavic Studies courses better than they had ever been.

“What I want, for both myself and for Midwestern State, is only the best. If that best means that I no longer have a position here, I will acquiesce to your wishes. However, I do hope that you will consider the circumstances that fate has thrown my way and grant me the honor and privilege of continuing to educate the students of Midwestern State for many years to come.”

Illya relaxed his posture slightly and sat back down in his chair.

“Well, then,“ Barry began, “If your speech is over, we’ll adjourn to…“

They heard the loud bang of the door and the sound of shuffling and staccato heels. “My god,” Napoleon said, as April Dancer smiled, rose to her feet, and rushed toward the door. Illya turned around in his chair.

There, in the middle of the corridor, stood Lisa Rogers and Mr. Alexander Waverly.

“Excuse me, sir, but this is a closed meeting,” said the man sitting near Dr. Pike.

Waverly’s frail body was stooped with age, but he rose up to his full height and stared at the board with the fire and intensity that he had always had. “And I am a witness to these proceedings. In fact, I dare say I’m the most important person to speak at these proceedings.”

Dr. Pike’s eyes narrowed. “And you are?”

“Alexander Waverly, current head of operations for the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, known as UNCLE, who is the other employer for Dr. Illya Kuryakin, also known as Alexander Kulik.”

The board murmured and buzzed. Illya felt as though the cavalry had ridden in and saved the day, but he knew the fight wasn’t quite over yet. He looked over at his mentor and gave him a slight smile. Waverly nodded, and gave Illya an unexpected wink.

“Order! Order!” shouted Dr. Barry as Pike looked at the audience and banged his gavel.

Waverly began to speak, the authority in his voice all but silencing the board. He spoke of Illya’s loyalty to UNCLE, how he was one of the most valued employees that he had ever had. Although Waverly knew the truth behind Illya’s departure from New York, he elaborated on the story that had been practiced so many times among current and former UNCLE employees who also knew Illya; that Kuryakin was sent away for his own safety, and that it was only recently that he was able to come out of hiding.

“Mr. Kuryakin…” Barry began, only to be glared at Illya, “I mean, Dr. Kuryakin states that he is no longer an employee of UNCLE.”

“He believed that I had dismissed him from service. He had assumed that after so many years undercover, he would have been released. I, however, did not sign off on this, and as a result, Illya Kuryakin is still a rightful employee of mine. As such, it was my decision to have him stay here, under my authority, under UNCLE’s protection. If you have a problem with my methods, I suggest you speak to me about them. Kuryakin did not have say in the matter.”

Illya murmured, “I go, and do, whatever is required of me.”

“Precisely, Mr. Kuryakin,” Waverly said, his voice weak.

The board of regents buzzed again, this time at the turn of events that Waverly’s testimony brought. Pike and Barry whispered to one another, then Pike banged the gavel.

“Order! We must adjourn. Dr. Kulik…I’m sorry, Illya. Would you please wait here? We will be back momentarily.” With that, Pike and the other members of the board rose and walked from the room.

As the door closed, Illya leapt to his feet to offer Mr. Waverly his chair. Waverly took it gratefully. Napoleon rushed to his former mentor’s side.

“Sir, you didn’t have to travel to Smithton. We had enough people to testify on Illya’s behalf,” Napoleon said.

Waverly waved him off. “Nonsense. Miss Dancer had informed me of the meeting. Would those men have listened to you, or April? No. They needed someone with power, with influence. I am that person.”

“Do you think it made a difference?” Illya asked.

“You never know until you try, my boy,” Waverly sighed. “However, you and Solo have gone through worse before. I have faith that your brains and his luck will win again.”

----

The ice on the lake was thick enough to walk on in the middle, and it was there that Napoleon and Illya strolled after the board meeting. The wind was soft, stirring up tiny flakes of snow and swirling them around the two men. They did not hold hands, although they stood close to one another. Instead, they wore each other‘s gloves. They walked across the lake, listening to the laughter of children and the cheers of ice fishermen. They were oblivious to everything except one another.

“Illya, are you all right?” Napoleon asked again.

Illya pulled his knit cap further down onto his head. “Other than being extremely cold? Yes, I’m fine.”

“That’s quite the outcome, I think.”

“It’s one I can understand. Pasha, did you really think I would just be able to walk back into my classroom and things would be the same?”

“But Waverly…”

“…did a great service to me by coming to my aid,” Illya interrupted. “But what’s done is done.”

“Are you upset about that?”

Illya squeezed Napoleon’s hand hard, then shoved his own hands back into his coat pockets. “No. Of course not. They fired Kulik, but Kulik didn’t exist. They’ll still have an opening in Slavic studies, and they’ve made it clear that they are interested in Illya Kuryakin.”

Napoleon grinned. “Are you going to apply? It doesn’t seem quite fair that they are making you reapply, making you interview again…”

“No, it’s fair. Remember, I’ve never taught at Midwestern State. Kulik did, but he’s gone now,” Illya reminded him.

“Let’s go home, Illya.”

“Yes, Pasha. Home.”

FIN