12 fics of Christmas - a gift for Chocobell1212
Title: In the Meadow, We can Build a Snowman
Genre: Man from UNCLE/NCIS
Rating: PG
Word count: 2586
Prompt: Two people who are secretly romantically interested in one another. They agree to share Christmas dinner together, just as friends, because a family holiday isn’t going to happen and all of their other friends are already busy.
chocobell1212, I hope your Christmas is merry and bright. Thanks for participating and my thanks, as always, to sparky955, my beta.
Napoleon Solo cradled the phone and sighed, but he wasn’t sure if it was from relief or disappointment.
“Is there something wrong, sir? His assistant was impossibly young and very capable at her job. When had he gotten this old?
“Kids, you teach them to be independent, then when they are, you wonder if you’ll ever see them again.”
“Sir?”
“My granddaughter was calling to tell me she’s been invited to a chalet in Switzerland that some of her friends are renting. They are flying in a chef for Christmas dinner and there will be fireworks and dancing.”
“As opposed to?”
“Dry turkey and stuffing out of a box.” Napoleon smiled sadly at the thought. “I’m not much of a cook.”
“I’m sure some of your friends--”
“Are all busy with families of their own.” He flipped through his Rolodex, practically a dinosaur now, and paused at a name. “I wonder…” He glanced at the time. ‘Ms. Swan, why don’t you take the rest of the day? I’m sure you have some shopping or holiday chores to get accomplished.”
“I do… thank you.” She stood and started to leave, then paused. “Sir, if you’d like, you are more than welcome to join me and Mr. Whiskers for Christmas. I’m only having a few friends in.”
“You are very kind, Ms. Swan, thank you.”
He watched her go and thought back to a day when he would have jumped at the prospect. That was a wife and a lifetime ago. It hadn’t been a bad life, but it had been a lonely one. All his friends had either moved on or died. It was hard being the last of your kind, he thought, then he snapped his fingers.
“Maybe not the last.” He took the card out of the Rolodex and placed it on the table in front of him. Just the name made his heart swell and his face flush. If only he’d had the courage to say something before their lives moved in such impossible directions. “Next to the last.”
Donald ‘Ducky’ Mallard set the bone saw aside and studied what it had revealed. He’d been hoping for some hint, anything, to give them a new direction in their investigation. He was certain this poor man had been murdered, but by whom.
“What do you have for me, Duck?”
His head jerked around at the sound of his name and he nodded to his old friend. “Ah, Jethro, I wish it was good news.”
“But…”
“This man had three of his four ventricles clogged with fat, his colon was impacted, this liver was shot and I think his pancreas was about to crawl out of his body.”
“He wasn’t murder?” Gibbs rubbed the back of his head.
“More like suicide by poor eating habits.”
“I was certain.”
“So was I.” Ducky removed his visor and walked to the X-Rays. “I have contact my local source and have arranged for an MRI, but it will have to wait until after Christmas.” Ducky grinned then. “And speaking of such…” He turned back to his friend and colleague, who wasn’t smiled. “You can make it.”
“Not this year. I’m sorry.”
Ducky refused to let his friend see how the news affected him. That made it five for five. It was his first year after losing his mother and he’d been hoping for a loud and boisterous party to take his mind off the emptiness. “It’s fine, Jethro. I left it until it was too late this year.”
Gibbs checked his watch and smiled tightly. “Gotta go. You know what Fornell is like if you keep him waiting.”
Ducky nodded and waved goodbye. He moved back to the gurney, covered the body respectfully and took it back to its temporary resting place. “There you do, my friend. Rest easy. We will get to the bottom of this.”
He pulled off his surgical gown and cap, tossing them into the trash, then walked to his desk. He took out a bottle of Scotch and poured a small amount into his tea cup. The first taste surprised him, even after all these years.
Perhaps he’d go to the movies…. He hadn’t been to one in years.
The phone rang and he jumped at the sound. With everyone gone or busy, the instrument had been quiet for the better part of two days.
He suspected it was Abby or young Mr. Palmer checking on him. “ME’s office.”
“Illya?”
At the familiar voice, Ducky grinned and felt a warmth flow through his veins. Even after all these years, that voice was still his undoing. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name. Napoleon, how are you?”
“Okay.”
“No, you’re not. Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me. What’s wrong?” There was a long pause and Ducky glanced up to see if he’d lost the signal. “Napoleon?”
“Got any room at your table for a spy who wants to come out of the cold?”
“Room for you, Napoleon? Always, but don’t you usually go to your daughter’s?”
“They are going to Disneyworld for Christmas and everyone else was making plans while I was trying to keep Bulgaria from becoming a crater. You?”
“About the same, with the exception of Disneyworld and Bulgaria. I suffered from tunnel vision with my last guest. I looked up and everyone was gone.”
“I hear you moved?”
“I did. It’s a lovely townhouse and much easier to maintain than that other place. Do you have a piece of paper?”
Napoleon stood in the snow outside the building and took several breaths, watching white clouds billow out. He and Illya went back years, decades, even, so why was he feeling so nervous about this? He shifted his suitcase from one hand to the other and felt the eyes of his bodyguard bore into his neck.
When they were partnered, Napoleon felt like he could take on the world and win. Illya was always at his back, ready to protect, attack or just quibble. Then forty hit and Waverly’s health started going. Napoleon had been fingered for his replacement, but he had never considered it a reality.
At first, it was just a few tasks, every once in a while, but a few tasks became more and suddenly one day Napoleon woke up and realized that he was the head of an international organization and somehow married.
Worse, he realized he’d lost his best friend in the process. One of the first things Napoleon did was lift the mandatory field retirement, but it was too late. Illya had already started to drift. He was less and less available for Napoleon’s calls and invitations and eventually they parted ways. They didn’t leave on bad terms, they just parted.
He wiggled his toes in his shoes and knew he had to either get inside or suffer frost bite.
Even so, he took all his resolve to walk through that door. He waved off his Section three agent and entered. His glasses steamed up and he stood there for a long moment.
“Do you need a hand, sir?” The doorman hovered close by.
“No, thank you. I’m just waiting for my glasses to un-fog.”
The young man laughed. “Dr. Mallard complains about that, too.”
It took Napoleon a moment to realize he meant Illya. While Illya had had his PhD when he worked for UNCLE, he never announced it or made the title significant. That changed when Illya decided he wanted a life in the private sector and ended up a medical doctor.
”Is this the floor for Dr. Mallard’s?”
“Next one up, sir.”
At least the elevator ride bought him a bit more time and he found himself hoping it might stall or break, but it didn’t and delivered him safely to the next floor.
He slowly walked to the appointed door and again Napoleon hesitated. He brought his hand up to knock, but the door opened before he had the chance.
“There you are! Joseph was worried about you!”
“Joseph?”
“The doorman. Come on in.”
Suddenly, all of Napoleon’s misgivings were gone. He was with Illya.
Ducky, for he now thought of himself as such, was growing worried about his former partner. Napoleon was usually prompt and while THRUSH was no longer a world power or threat, there was always someone waiting in the wings.
His phone rang and his heart dropped. Not now, Napoleon. Please… “This is Dr. Mallard.”
“Hey, Doc, are you expecting someone?”
“I am. Why do you ask?”
“He’s down here acting a little squirrelly. He just went into the elevator.”
“All right, Joseph, I will keep an eye open for him. Thank you.”
“Anytime, Doc.”
Ducky counted to ten and then opened the door. Napoleon had just raised his hand to knock and it was all Ducky could do to keep from hugging him.
“There you are! Joseph was worried about you!”
“Joseph?” Napoleon looked confused and just a little nervous.
“The doorman. Come on in.” He let Napoleon step in and he closed the door behind him. “Welcome.”
“Wow… Illya, this place is incredible.” Napoleon set his suitcase down and Ducky inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure that Napoleon would spend the night, even though he’d agreed on the phone.
“And just a few minutes from work. It’s much easier a commute.” He took Napoleon’s coat. “Why don’t you warm yourself up by the fire?”
He watched his former partner move stiffly. The cold weather didn’t do them any favors for the exuberance of their youth. He had the advantage of not being cold and having taken some aspirin when he got home. The lights and the tree made the room bright, but it was the addition of his old friend that made it merry.
“Now, what will it be - scotch, bourbon, martini?”
“Yes, I’ll have one of those.” Napoleon sat and winced. “Maybe a double.”
Illya handed him two fingers of scotch and settled into his chair. “To old friends, best when they’re worn and we miss them the most when they are gone.”
Napoleon grinned. “Is that an old Scottish proverb? Russian?”
“Paul Williams. I heard it in one of his songs and thought how appropriate it sounded. Your daughter is well?”
“She is and so are the grandchildren, what little I see of them anymore. You want them to be independent, just not as soon as they are.” He gestured with his empty hand. “Two more of those and I’ll be hanging from the chandelier.” He set his drink down upon a cocktail napkin. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“I’ll let Maintenance know. Thanks. It’s amazing what money will do.” Ducky sipped carefully. He still had dinner to contend with. “And won’t do.”
“Are you lonely?”
“Not as a rule. Work keeps me busy. You?”
“The same. I spend the day putting out fires and the next day, there are new ones. All my agents are so young and so daring.”
“So were we, once upon a time, but no brooding tonight. Tonight, we eat drink and are merry--”
“For tomorrow we die.”
“I hope not. I need someone to help me eat that goose. Speaking of such, do you need to freshen up or anything?”
“Nope. It was an easy trip, so much more than the red eyes we used to fly.”
Ducky took another sip and nodded. “There were times when I didn’t know what month or day it was, never mind the time zone. That I don’t miss. And the beatings, drugging, torture, don’t miss those either.”
“So what do you miss?”
“You.” Ducky let the alcohol make him brave. “You always being there, trying to borrow money, watching my back, making sure we’d succeed. That I miss.”
“Yeah, right back at you.” They touched glasses and sat in silence for a moment, then Ducky cleared his throat and got to his feet.
“Well, that steak isn’t going to cook itself.”
“Steak?”
“Diane, with Duchess Potatoes and green beans, if that’s okay. I have a variety of baked goods for dessert, thanks to my co-workers.”
“That’s exciting.”
“In some cases, yes. Avoid the brown blobs. It’s just safer.”
“Got it. What can I do to help?”
“Pick out some music for us.” Ducky vanished into his kitchen.
Napoleon raised his wineglass to Illya. “That was an incredible meal, Illya…. Ducky… what do I call you?”
“Whatever you like. You had some pretty impressive nicknames for me.” Illy stood to retrieve Napoleon’s plate. “Filthy, Spike-“
Suddenly they were nose-to-nose, their lips inches apart. “Poossycat.”
Then it was gone as was Illya. Napoleon got up from the table and moved to a window. “It’s snowing. Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas after all.”
“It’s nice to know all those old injuries are good for something. I told them this would happen.”
“I hope all your friends got out.”
“They did or will.” Illya carried a tray of baked goods to the coffee table in front of the fire and sat down. He stretched out his legs and leaned back, sighing. “This is the best part of the day.”
“Why don’t you retire?” Napoleon joined him and picked up a small chocolate square.
“Why don’t you?” Illya fired back.
“Nothing to do. No one to do it with. Not anymore.” He chewed and swallowed. “Wow, that’s really chocolaty.”
“Hence my warning. Try some of the port. I am sorry about your loss.”
“It’s not that, really. I mean, my marriage was as good as any and my daughter was a joyful surprise, but you can live with someone and be more alone than if you were there by yourself. Does that make sense?”
“It does, sadly. If you didn’t love her, why did you marry her?”
“Pressure from the other Section Ones. They thought it looked bad for me to be on my own.”
“I never thought of you buckling to pressure.”
Whether it was the wine or the sense of peace he had, Napoleon had, “Well, when you’ve lost the one love of your life, nothing really replaces it.”
“I thought you said you didn’t love your wi--”
“You, Illya. I lost you. Didn’t you ever stop for just a minute and wonder what it would have been like to have stayed in that house in Happy Acres? To be together, not just as partners, but something more? Don’t say you didn’t feel it?”
“I… I did and that’s why I left. I knew you could never achieve what you needed to with me holding your back. The Sections Ones are broadminded, but not that broadminded. It was a different world back then.”
“And a different world now…” Napoleon didn’t hesitate this time. He leaned forward and kissed Illya. He was prepared to have Illya pull back and order him to leave, or to even sock him. He wasn’t quite as prepared for the responding kiss.
“Wow,” he admitted after they parted.
“Wow, indeed. I’ve been waiting to do that for forty years.” Illya brushed the hair off Napoleon’s forehead. “We have wasted so much time.”
“Not anymore. I don’t want another day to pass.”
“Then we only have one more question to answer.”
“Which is?”
“Do you move here or do I move there?”
Napoleon laughed and kissed him again. “Let’s talk about it in the morning.”
“All right.” Illya stood and offered him a hand up. “Providing we both survive the night.”
And outside the snow fell wishing everyone a good night.
Genre: Man from UNCLE/NCIS
Rating: PG
Word count: 2586
Prompt: Two people who are secretly romantically interested in one another. They agree to share Christmas dinner together, just as friends, because a family holiday isn’t going to happen and all of their other friends are already busy.
chocobell1212, I hope your Christmas is merry and bright. Thanks for participating and my thanks, as always, to sparky955, my beta.
Napoleon Solo cradled the phone and sighed, but he wasn’t sure if it was from relief or disappointment.
“Is there something wrong, sir? His assistant was impossibly young and very capable at her job. When had he gotten this old?
“Kids, you teach them to be independent, then when they are, you wonder if you’ll ever see them again.”
“Sir?”
“My granddaughter was calling to tell me she’s been invited to a chalet in Switzerland that some of her friends are renting. They are flying in a chef for Christmas dinner and there will be fireworks and dancing.”
“As opposed to?”
“Dry turkey and stuffing out of a box.” Napoleon smiled sadly at the thought. “I’m not much of a cook.”
“I’m sure some of your friends--”
“Are all busy with families of their own.” He flipped through his Rolodex, practically a dinosaur now, and paused at a name. “I wonder…” He glanced at the time. ‘Ms. Swan, why don’t you take the rest of the day? I’m sure you have some shopping or holiday chores to get accomplished.”
“I do… thank you.” She stood and started to leave, then paused. “Sir, if you’d like, you are more than welcome to join me and Mr. Whiskers for Christmas. I’m only having a few friends in.”
“You are very kind, Ms. Swan, thank you.”
He watched her go and thought back to a day when he would have jumped at the prospect. That was a wife and a lifetime ago. It hadn’t been a bad life, but it had been a lonely one. All his friends had either moved on or died. It was hard being the last of your kind, he thought, then he snapped his fingers.
“Maybe not the last.” He took the card out of the Rolodex and placed it on the table in front of him. Just the name made his heart swell and his face flush. If only he’d had the courage to say something before their lives moved in such impossible directions. “Next to the last.”
Donald ‘Ducky’ Mallard set the bone saw aside and studied what it had revealed. He’d been hoping for some hint, anything, to give them a new direction in their investigation. He was certain this poor man had been murdered, but by whom.
“What do you have for me, Duck?”
His head jerked around at the sound of his name and he nodded to his old friend. “Ah, Jethro, I wish it was good news.”
“But…”
“This man had three of his four ventricles clogged with fat, his colon was impacted, this liver was shot and I think his pancreas was about to crawl out of his body.”
“He wasn’t murder?” Gibbs rubbed the back of his head.
“More like suicide by poor eating habits.”
“I was certain.”
“So was I.” Ducky removed his visor and walked to the X-Rays. “I have contact my local source and have arranged for an MRI, but it will have to wait until after Christmas.” Ducky grinned then. “And speaking of such…” He turned back to his friend and colleague, who wasn’t smiled. “You can make it.”
“Not this year. I’m sorry.”
Ducky refused to let his friend see how the news affected him. That made it five for five. It was his first year after losing his mother and he’d been hoping for a loud and boisterous party to take his mind off the emptiness. “It’s fine, Jethro. I left it until it was too late this year.”
Gibbs checked his watch and smiled tightly. “Gotta go. You know what Fornell is like if you keep him waiting.”
Ducky nodded and waved goodbye. He moved back to the gurney, covered the body respectfully and took it back to its temporary resting place. “There you do, my friend. Rest easy. We will get to the bottom of this.”
He pulled off his surgical gown and cap, tossing them into the trash, then walked to his desk. He took out a bottle of Scotch and poured a small amount into his tea cup. The first taste surprised him, even after all these years.
Perhaps he’d go to the movies…. He hadn’t been to one in years.
The phone rang and he jumped at the sound. With everyone gone or busy, the instrument had been quiet for the better part of two days.
He suspected it was Abby or young Mr. Palmer checking on him. “ME’s office.”
“Illya?”
At the familiar voice, Ducky grinned and felt a warmth flow through his veins. Even after all these years, that voice was still his undoing. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name. Napoleon, how are you?”
“Okay.”
“No, you’re not. Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me. What’s wrong?” There was a long pause and Ducky glanced up to see if he’d lost the signal. “Napoleon?”
“Got any room at your table for a spy who wants to come out of the cold?”
“Room for you, Napoleon? Always, but don’t you usually go to your daughter’s?”
“They are going to Disneyworld for Christmas and everyone else was making plans while I was trying to keep Bulgaria from becoming a crater. You?”
“About the same, with the exception of Disneyworld and Bulgaria. I suffered from tunnel vision with my last guest. I looked up and everyone was gone.”
“I hear you moved?”
“I did. It’s a lovely townhouse and much easier to maintain than that other place. Do you have a piece of paper?”
Napoleon stood in the snow outside the building and took several breaths, watching white clouds billow out. He and Illya went back years, decades, even, so why was he feeling so nervous about this? He shifted his suitcase from one hand to the other and felt the eyes of his bodyguard bore into his neck.
When they were partnered, Napoleon felt like he could take on the world and win. Illya was always at his back, ready to protect, attack or just quibble. Then forty hit and Waverly’s health started going. Napoleon had been fingered for his replacement, but he had never considered it a reality.
At first, it was just a few tasks, every once in a while, but a few tasks became more and suddenly one day Napoleon woke up and realized that he was the head of an international organization and somehow married.
Worse, he realized he’d lost his best friend in the process. One of the first things Napoleon did was lift the mandatory field retirement, but it was too late. Illya had already started to drift. He was less and less available for Napoleon’s calls and invitations and eventually they parted ways. They didn’t leave on bad terms, they just parted.
He wiggled his toes in his shoes and knew he had to either get inside or suffer frost bite.
Even so, he took all his resolve to walk through that door. He waved off his Section three agent and entered. His glasses steamed up and he stood there for a long moment.
“Do you need a hand, sir?” The doorman hovered close by.
“No, thank you. I’m just waiting for my glasses to un-fog.”
The young man laughed. “Dr. Mallard complains about that, too.”
It took Napoleon a moment to realize he meant Illya. While Illya had had his PhD when he worked for UNCLE, he never announced it or made the title significant. That changed when Illya decided he wanted a life in the private sector and ended up a medical doctor.
”Is this the floor for Dr. Mallard’s?”
“Next one up, sir.”
At least the elevator ride bought him a bit more time and he found himself hoping it might stall or break, but it didn’t and delivered him safely to the next floor.
He slowly walked to the appointed door and again Napoleon hesitated. He brought his hand up to knock, but the door opened before he had the chance.
“There you are! Joseph was worried about you!”
“Joseph?”
“The doorman. Come on in.”
Suddenly, all of Napoleon’s misgivings were gone. He was with Illya.
Ducky, for he now thought of himself as such, was growing worried about his former partner. Napoleon was usually prompt and while THRUSH was no longer a world power or threat, there was always someone waiting in the wings.
His phone rang and his heart dropped. Not now, Napoleon. Please… “This is Dr. Mallard.”
“Hey, Doc, are you expecting someone?”
“I am. Why do you ask?”
“He’s down here acting a little squirrelly. He just went into the elevator.”
“All right, Joseph, I will keep an eye open for him. Thank you.”
“Anytime, Doc.”
Ducky counted to ten and then opened the door. Napoleon had just raised his hand to knock and it was all Ducky could do to keep from hugging him.
“There you are! Joseph was worried about you!”
“Joseph?” Napoleon looked confused and just a little nervous.
“The doorman. Come on in.” He let Napoleon step in and he closed the door behind him. “Welcome.”
“Wow… Illya, this place is incredible.” Napoleon set his suitcase down and Ducky inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure that Napoleon would spend the night, even though he’d agreed on the phone.
“And just a few minutes from work. It’s much easier a commute.” He took Napoleon’s coat. “Why don’t you warm yourself up by the fire?”
He watched his former partner move stiffly. The cold weather didn’t do them any favors for the exuberance of their youth. He had the advantage of not being cold and having taken some aspirin when he got home. The lights and the tree made the room bright, but it was the addition of his old friend that made it merry.
“Now, what will it be - scotch, bourbon, martini?”
“Yes, I’ll have one of those.” Napoleon sat and winced. “Maybe a double.”
Illya handed him two fingers of scotch and settled into his chair. “To old friends, best when they’re worn and we miss them the most when they are gone.”
Napoleon grinned. “Is that an old Scottish proverb? Russian?”
“Paul Williams. I heard it in one of his songs and thought how appropriate it sounded. Your daughter is well?”
“She is and so are the grandchildren, what little I see of them anymore. You want them to be independent, just not as soon as they are.” He gestured with his empty hand. “Two more of those and I’ll be hanging from the chandelier.” He set his drink down upon a cocktail napkin. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“I’ll let Maintenance know. Thanks. It’s amazing what money will do.” Ducky sipped carefully. He still had dinner to contend with. “And won’t do.”
“Are you lonely?”
“Not as a rule. Work keeps me busy. You?”
“The same. I spend the day putting out fires and the next day, there are new ones. All my agents are so young and so daring.”
“So were we, once upon a time, but no brooding tonight. Tonight, we eat drink and are merry--”
“For tomorrow we die.”
“I hope not. I need someone to help me eat that goose. Speaking of such, do you need to freshen up or anything?”
“Nope. It was an easy trip, so much more than the red eyes we used to fly.”
Ducky took another sip and nodded. “There were times when I didn’t know what month or day it was, never mind the time zone. That I don’t miss. And the beatings, drugging, torture, don’t miss those either.”
“So what do you miss?”
“You.” Ducky let the alcohol make him brave. “You always being there, trying to borrow money, watching my back, making sure we’d succeed. That I miss.”
“Yeah, right back at you.” They touched glasses and sat in silence for a moment, then Ducky cleared his throat and got to his feet.
“Well, that steak isn’t going to cook itself.”
“Steak?”
“Diane, with Duchess Potatoes and green beans, if that’s okay. I have a variety of baked goods for dessert, thanks to my co-workers.”
“That’s exciting.”
“In some cases, yes. Avoid the brown blobs. It’s just safer.”
“Got it. What can I do to help?”
“Pick out some music for us.” Ducky vanished into his kitchen.
Napoleon raised his wineglass to Illya. “That was an incredible meal, Illya…. Ducky… what do I call you?”
“Whatever you like. You had some pretty impressive nicknames for me.” Illy stood to retrieve Napoleon’s plate. “Filthy, Spike-“
Suddenly they were nose-to-nose, their lips inches apart. “Poossycat.”
Then it was gone as was Illya. Napoleon got up from the table and moved to a window. “It’s snowing. Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas after all.”
“It’s nice to know all those old injuries are good for something. I told them this would happen.”
“I hope all your friends got out.”
“They did or will.” Illya carried a tray of baked goods to the coffee table in front of the fire and sat down. He stretched out his legs and leaned back, sighing. “This is the best part of the day.”
“Why don’t you retire?” Napoleon joined him and picked up a small chocolate square.
“Why don’t you?” Illya fired back.
“Nothing to do. No one to do it with. Not anymore.” He chewed and swallowed. “Wow, that’s really chocolaty.”
“Hence my warning. Try some of the port. I am sorry about your loss.”
“It’s not that, really. I mean, my marriage was as good as any and my daughter was a joyful surprise, but you can live with someone and be more alone than if you were there by yourself. Does that make sense?”
“It does, sadly. If you didn’t love her, why did you marry her?”
“Pressure from the other Section Ones. They thought it looked bad for me to be on my own.”
“I never thought of you buckling to pressure.”
Whether it was the wine or the sense of peace he had, Napoleon had, “Well, when you’ve lost the one love of your life, nothing really replaces it.”
“I thought you said you didn’t love your wi--”
“You, Illya. I lost you. Didn’t you ever stop for just a minute and wonder what it would have been like to have stayed in that house in Happy Acres? To be together, not just as partners, but something more? Don’t say you didn’t feel it?”
“I… I did and that’s why I left. I knew you could never achieve what you needed to with me holding your back. The Sections Ones are broadminded, but not that broadminded. It was a different world back then.”
“And a different world now…” Napoleon didn’t hesitate this time. He leaned forward and kissed Illya. He was prepared to have Illya pull back and order him to leave, or to even sock him. He wasn’t quite as prepared for the responding kiss.
“Wow,” he admitted after they parted.
“Wow, indeed. I’ve been waiting to do that for forty years.” Illya brushed the hair off Napoleon’s forehead. “We have wasted so much time.”
“Not anymore. I don’t want another day to pass.”
“Then we only have one more question to answer.”
“Which is?”
“Do you move here or do I move there?”
Napoleon laughed and kissed him again. “Let’s talk about it in the morning.”
“All right.” Illya stood and offered him a hand up. “Providing we both survive the night.”
And outside the snow fell wishing everyone a good night.