Another MFU blurb

Written for today’s short affair prompt at Section VII

Summary: In which Napoleon and Illya, undercover, find a murder mystery on their hands

Notes:
There are two versions of this piece.  This is the light slash
version.  There is a gen version on my
dreamwidth if you’d prefer reading that.
The two blurbs are around 95% similar.

Not cross-posting this as I’ll be expanding this in the future.

Illya looked around nervously as he wandered into the old
mansion’s lounge.  The party had been
cleared out hours ago on account of the events of that night—events that had
left everyone shaken and suspicious.
Even Napoleon and Illya, no strangers to the dark side of humanity and
all that could emerge from that darkness, had also been visibly shaken.  However, as they were both undercover as men
who were total strangers to each other, it meant meeting here, in the dark of
night, without the eyes of others upon them—something that they needed to make
sure of, especially since one of those pairs of eyes belong to a poisoner, who
was still among them.

Illya hid behind the shadows of a dark blue upholstered
armchair as he heard footsteps approach.
The footsteps stopped a few feet from Illya for a moment, and them
approached the armchair.

Illya tensed; he wasn’t sure if it was Napoleon or not, so
he lunged, trying to get a grip on the other person’s arms, but he, too, found
his arms gripped.  Just then, a bolt of
lightning briefly illuminated the room—and the two men saw just who they were
grappling with.

“Illya…?” Napoleon asked.

Illya breathed a sigh of relief, now hugging him.

“Napoleon…” he sighed.
“Forgive me; I have an unusual case of nerves, and it is not like me at
all…”

“I know, I know,” Napoleon sighed, hugging him back.  “I think what happened earlier has a lot to
do with it.”  He was shaking slightly,
but he stopped himself to gather his mettle.
“It’s my fault, of course.”

“What do you mean?” Illya asked.

“I just wasn’t as vigilant as I should have been,” Napoleon
said.  It was a sobering, horrible
moment—recalling how their informant, who had been in the middle of a
conversation with Napoleon, had suddenly reacted severely to something and had
died.  Illya had been able to sense the
work of a powerful neurotoxin—but neither of them could explain how it had been
administered to the victim, despite Napoleon or Illya being nearby the entire
time.  Mr. Waverly had not been pleased,
and had ordered them to find out what had happened, and if THRUSH had played a
role in the poisoning.  “How else could a
poisoner manage to strike right under my nose?”

“Our noses,”
Illya corrected.  “I am as much to
blame.  If I had better equipment, I
could have found out exactly what the victim had been poisoned by.”

“There’s more that worries me,” Napoleon said.  “Is the poisoner done, or will he strike
again—and who will be next?  One of the
other guests?  …Or one of us?”

“Why would the poisoner go after one of us?  We have never met these people before
tonight,” Illya pointed out.

“I was right there with the victim when he started reacting
to the poison—I’m a loose end,” Napoleon said.
“And they know you as a medical examiner; whether or not they know that
you’ve looked at the body, they’ll expect you to have attempted to autopsy the
body—they won’t want the poison being revealed.
They have reason to get rid of both of us—doubly so if THRUSH was
involved and recognized us.”

Illya tightened his hug.

“I will not let them get you, Napoleon,” he vowed.  “I don’t care who did it or how; I will now
allow that fate to befall you.”

“I believe that,” Napoleon whispered.

He truly did, too—he could feel the furious fire in Illya,
radiating through him.  When Illya was
determined, he was unstoppable.

“I will protect you,” Illya vowed.  “You can count on that.”

“I know,” Napoleon said.
“And just know that you can count on me, too.”

He wasn’t sure how the poisoner had gotten past him
before—but whoever it was would not do so again.

Together, they would find and stop the one responsible for
this.  Neither of them had any doubt
about that.

Illya, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, now
leaned forward and kissed Napoleon.
Napoleon hesitated, but kissed him back, gently at first, but then more
and more passionately.

A moment later, they both fell over onto the armchair,
which sunk under their weight as they carried on.

They had their love to protect each other.