Your Christmas Ficlet, Love Saklanisaklani2December 25 2009, 11:29:53 UTC
((Here is your Christmas fic! Sorry for not getting this into your Christmas card, but I hope this makes it up to you. *hugs* Have a very Merry Christmas! -Saklani))
A Christmas Night Affair
“A toast, tovarisch, to a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year,” Napoleon said, holding up his glass of champagne.
“I never figured you for a sentimental man,” Illya said, clinking his glass against Napoleon’s.
After sipping his champagne, Napoleon tilted his head and regarded Illya questioningly. “Sentimental?”
Illya gestured to the decorations in Napoleon’s apartment. “The full American set of Christmas decorations.”
“My wife-” Napoleon worked hard not to stumble over the word “-she loved Christmas. Always decorated the house. These are mostly hers.”
Illya set his drink on the sideboard and placed a hand briefly on Napoleon’s arm. “I am sorry, Napoleon.”
“There is no need to apologize,” Napoleon said. He ducked his head to smile a little. “Besides, I do rather like Christmas.”
Illya shook his head and said, “You never cease to amaze me, Pasha.”
“Well, I would not want our partnership to grow stale.” Napoleon sipped his champagne and headed for the kitchen. “I made pelmenis to serve with one of your favorite vodkas.”
Pausing in surprise on the way to the kitchen, Illya asked, “In honor of Christmas?”
“And the approaching first anniversary of our partnership. As you say, I am a sentimentalist.” Napoleon began to serve the poached pastries into bowls.
“I- thank you, Napoleon.” Illya sat down at the table, noting the fine china set at each place. “You did not have to do this.”
“It’s a pleasure, Illya, and nothing that requires thanks. I hope to make this the first of many such celebrations between partners. Now, eat this before it gets cold.” Napoleon set the dish in front of Illya.
Illya knew there was no use arguing and waited for Napoleon to sit down. “I do want to thank you, Napoleon. For our first year together and this Christmas dinner.”
“Then, you’re welcome, Illya. And thank you, for being my first partner since my wife died.” Napoleon lifted his glass to Illya for another toast. “To partnership and Christmas.”
“And many more years.” Illya clinked his glass against Napoleon’s and drank with him, hoping for just that.
A Christmas Night Affair
“A toast, tovarisch, to a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year,” Napoleon said, holding up his glass of champagne.
“I never figured you for a sentimental man,” Illya said, clinking his glass against Napoleon’s.
After sipping his champagne, Napoleon tilted his head and regarded Illya questioningly. “Sentimental?”
Illya gestured to the decorations in Napoleon’s apartment. “The full American set of Christmas decorations.”
“My wife-” Napoleon worked hard not to stumble over the word “-she loved Christmas. Always decorated the house. These are mostly hers.”
Illya set his drink on the sideboard and placed a hand briefly on Napoleon’s arm. “I am sorry, Napoleon.”
“There is no need to apologize,” Napoleon said. He ducked his head to smile a little. “Besides, I do rather like Christmas.”
Illya shook his head and said, “You never cease to amaze me, Pasha.”
“Well, I would not want our partnership to grow stale.” Napoleon sipped his champagne and headed for the kitchen. “I made pelmenis to serve with one of your favorite vodkas.”
Pausing in surprise on the way to the kitchen, Illya asked, “In honor of Christmas?”
“And the approaching first anniversary of our partnership. As you say, I am a sentimentalist.” Napoleon began to serve the poached pastries into bowls.
“I- thank you, Napoleon.” Illya sat down at the table, noting the fine china set at each place. “You did not have to do this.”
“It’s a pleasure, Illya, and nothing that requires thanks. I hope to make this the first of many such celebrations between partners. Now, eat this before it gets cold.” Napoleon set the dish in front of Illya.
Illya knew there was no use arguing and waited for Napoleon to sit down. “I do want to thank you, Napoleon. For our first year together and this Christmas dinner.”
“Then, you’re welcome, Illya. And thank you, for being my first partner since my wife died.” Napoleon lifted his glass to Illya for another toast. “To partnership and Christmas.”
“And many more years.” Illya clinked his glass against Napoleon’s and drank with him, hoping for just that.
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I still miss the cut-out from the cover of TV guide of them that I had taped to my mirror behind my door. God, I loved them.
Merry Christmas, love.
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