Title: The Say Uncle Affair - Epilogue
Author: Donna <blktauna@shawstudios.com>
Genre: Man from Uncle
Part: 1/1 
Rating: [G]
Summary: Post A-Team.

The Say Uncle Affair - Epilogue [S/K, 1/1, G] 
by Donna

"Napoleon... I'm fine, really." Illya's voice held
just a touch of exasperation.

Illya Kuryakin lay in Los Angeles HQ's med section.
Napoleon Solo hovered over him, a tanned finger
tracing a gash near one beautiful blue eye.

"It's just that I'm fifty three and I don't really
_like_ escaping from burning vans anymore."

"You never did like it." Napoleon's voice held smooth
amusement.

"And I am thankful you are too vain to wear your
glasses. You can't hit the broad side of a barn
without them now."

Napoleon dared to look affronted.

"Illya, my friend, how can you say such a thing?
Besides, _they_ don't know that."

Illya cracked a smile. Napoleon was pleased. Those
smiles came far more frequently now that the two of
them were more or less retired.

"So, the Chinese were completely taken in." Smug
statement of fact.

"Yes, Mr. Tregorin, they were."

Napoleon scooped up Illya's hand and perched on the
end of the narrow metal bed. His thumb caressed the
back of Illya's hand. Illya relaxed against the
pillows.

"I like being Ivan Tregorin. He's made a lot of money
for me. You know, that Jaguar is really mine." Illya's
smile grew larger.

"Yes, my friend, and I'll bet you bought it used and
paid cash."

Illya's laughter rippled through Napoleon's bones. He
drank in the sight of his blond partner. The crinkles
around his eyes were the only clue to Illya's age. He
looked more like thirty five than fifty three. When he
had been thirty five he had looked twenty.

"You are giving me that look, moy droog." Illya's
voice was low and conspiratorial.

Napoleon smiled evilly. He brushed his lips against
Illya's fingers. He noted with satisfaction that his
partner's breath skipped a beat.

"Am I?"

Napoleon had the temerity to attempt to look innocent.
Illya laughed again.

"Napoleon, when will you finish this assignment? I
haven't seen you for this whole year and now you are
teasing me! We are supposed to be retired and living
the good life."

The beginnings of a pout flashed over Illya's lips.
Napoleon wished he could kiss it away.

"Not long now, tovarishch. I just need to get Hannibal
and his men settled down. I'll be home in no time."

"Napoleon...," Illya's blue eyes searched Napoleon's
face. "I am very sorry about the torture."

Amusement danced over Napoleon's tanned face. "You
were far worse during that Gurnius Affair. Besides,
you've gotten much better at administering hypos. I
thought the Chinese operative was going to spill
something before I did."

"Yes. He was quite terrified by me. I can't imagine
why."

Napoleon burst into laughter.

"Illya, my God, _I_ thought you were going to bite me
and I know you. That poor boy had no idea what you
would do or who you would do it to."

"Good. Then I haven't lost my touch." He looked
somewhat smug. "I did get some excellent intelligence
on their activities. Sir John was pleased."

"And what sort of munitions did you steal?"

Illya's eyes narrowed and he frowned.

"Illya. Our basement looks like the Aberdeen Proving
Grounds. Don't frown at me."

"I didn't get any munitions," he said glumly, then,
brightening, "but I did pick up some new electronics!"

"Like a kid at Christmas." Napoleon sighed. "But it's
time for me to get back, moy droog. I need to be in
Washington this evening."

"I miss you, Napoleon. Very much."

Napoleon leaned towards his partner. His hand slipped
behind Illya's head, feeling the silk of his hair.
Illya's free hand drew Napoleon to him. Their kiss was
tender and brief.

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