Written for today’s short affair prompt at Section VII.

Summary: In which Solo Luck strikes again.

Notes:
There are two versions of this piece.  This is the light slash
version (also cross-posted to AO3).  There is a gen version on my
dreamwidth if you’d prefer reading that.
The two blurbs are around 90% similar.

Illya looked up in surprise as Napoleon practically
barreled into their hotel room, trying to catch his breath.  They’d been staying in Las Vegas, having just
finished up a mission, and Napoleon had been enjoying their newly-acquired
downtime with a desert walk, aiming to spend the evening at the casinos later.

“What happened to you?” he asked, concerned.

“I was chased because of a rock,” Napoleon said, flatly.

“…A rock?” Illya asked.
“Did you buy a diamond or something?”
He paused.  “…Are you giving me a
ring?”

“Would you like one?”

“Well, I think it would be a waste of money,” Illya
admitted.  “But I would appreciate the
sentiment.”

“And I would gladly buy you a ring,” Napoleon said.  “But in this case, I was being hounded for a
regular rock.  I thought I was being
chased by THRUSH agents who’d recognized me, but no.  I was being chased by rock hunters out in the
desert.”

“…Rock hunters?” Illya repeated.

“I don’t understand it, either,” Napoleon said.  “I picked up a rock because it looked unique,
someone saw me holding it, and then yelled, ‘He’s got one!  He’s got one!’  And the next thing I knew, the chase was on.”

Something clicked in Illya’s mind.

“The rock…  Do you
still have it?”

“Yeah,” Napoleon said, taking it out of his pocket.  It was a glossy rock, but the odd thing about
it was the green coloration to it.  “You
don’t see green rocks every day, so I just picked it up—thought it might make a
nice paperweight.  I still don’t know
what on Earth possessed those rock hunters to start chasing me for it.”

Illya’s eyes widened as he saw the rock.

“Napoleon…” he said.
“It has nothing to do with Earth.”

“What…?”

“You are holding a meteorite.  Those were meteorite hunters chasing after
you, and for very good reason—it is far rarer than any diamond!”

Napoleon blinked.

“So…  What you’re
saying is, I’m the first person in history to visit Las Vegas and strike it
rich in the desert rather than the casino?”

“Will you forget about the money!?” Illya chided.  “Napoleon, do you not understand the wealth
of scientific knowledge you are holding in your hand!?  That rock came from a fragment of leftover
planetary material—perhaps from a moon or an asteroid…  It could tell us so much about wherever it is
from—how its composition differs from Earth rocks!”

Napoleon arched an eyebrow; it was rare that Illya got
passionate about something—science, apparently, did the trick.

“Well…  This has
solved all of my problems.”

“What are you talking about?” Illya asked.

“I’ve been wanting to get you a diamond for a while now,
but I always knew you’d think it to be a waste of money.  But, with this, not only is it more precious,
it’s something that you would genuinely treasure.”

“…What are you saying?” Illya asked, hardly daring to
believe it.

“NASA is going to hate me for giving this to a Russian, but
they’ll have to deal with it,” Napoleon said.
“Illya…  My love for you is as
infinite as the vast expanse of space.
So it seems only appropriate to give you something that fell from that
vast unknown.  I want you to have this
meteorite.”

He handed the meteorite over to Illya, who held it in his
hands with the same reverence that he usually reserved for their cat.

“It is the best engagement present I could have ever
received,” Illya whispered, kissing him.

Napoleon returned the kiss.

“I’m sure you’d like some time to go over that meteorite in
detail,” he said.  “So I’ll let you do
that; I’m going to hit the casinos while my luck is still as high as it is.”

“Da,” Illya
said.  “But, Napoleon?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t stay out too late; I wish to… properly thank you
tonight.”

Napoleon grinned.

“I’ll bring dinner back with me,” he promised.

He headed to the casino in high spirits.  Right now, he truly did feel like the
luckiest man on Earth, for how often could a man say that the perfect gift just
fell out of the sky?