Prompt: Bandaging Wounds

Summary: Number of people Napoleon took on in that bar brawl?  Four.  Regrets?  None.

Cross-posted to AO3

It was times like these that Napoleon was grateful that his
partner had medical expertise—even if it was pathology.  But, then again, Illya had argued that the
body was the same build for the living and the dead—the living just complained
more.

And Napoleon did complain—though with his face being a mask
of purple bruises and numerous cuts and scratches all over the rest of him, he
had a right to.  And, if anything,
hearing him complain was a much-needed to Illya that he was not hurt any worse.

“What are you trying to do—mummify me?” Napoleon protested,
as Illya now wrapped almost all of his left arm in bandages as they rested in
their hotel room.  It was fortunate that
they were in a big city like Savannah, Georgia—it allowed Illya to obtain the
medical equipment he needed with relative ease.

“I know the extensiveness of your vanity,” Illya said,
simply.  “So I am ensuring that the
scarring is as minimal as possible.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” Napoleon said.  “But I’m a bit more concerned about my face
than my arms.  How does my face look?”

“…You will heal, but for now, you look like you were in a
brawl with four other men built like brick walls—which you were,” Illya
chided.  “Really, Napoleon—a bar
brawl?  Somehow, I always thought you
were too classy for that.”

Napoleon shrugged.

“But I won, didn’t I?” he pointed out, with a smirk of
triumph.  “You should’ve seen them
bolting out of the bar!”

“That well may be, but you should have called me for
assistance sooner rather than waiting until you were at the doctor’s office,”
Illya added.  “I could have helped to
prevent some of these injuries!”

“But you were off on a mission to obtain a basket of
shrimp; I couldn’t interrupt you from your noble quest!”

“For you, Napoleon, I will always cast aside mealtime,”
Illya promised.

“Now that’s true
loyalty…”

“And you are lucky you weren’t in worse shape when I found
you,” Illya said.  “I am still trying to
grasp how this happened.  What were you
even fighting about, anyway?”

Napoleon’s expression darkened.

“Let’s just say that THRUSH aren’t the only ones who
consider certain people as undesirables,” he said.  “In a case like this, my response was the
same–I did what I had to in order to protect innocents.”

Now Illya’s expression darkened, as well.

“You really should
have called me,” he said.  “This is not
something I would have stood for either, and you know it.”

“Didn’t want to risk them getting on you because of your
accent,” Napoleon mumbled.

“Oh, Napoleon…” Illya sighed, finishing his treatment of
Napoleon’s wounds.  “Well, what happened
to the innocents?”

Napoleon gave a rueful smile.

“I guess I must have looked pretty beaten-up, because they
wanted to get me to the doctor’s, which was where you found me—they never
really got to sit down and leisurely enjoy their drinks after all,” he sighed.  “Still… it’s a small consolation that, at
least, they left of their own accord rather than being intimidated into
leaving.”

“I can agree with that,” Illya said.

Napoleon sighed and glanced up, staring at the ceiling, and
Illya soon did the same.

“We keep going?” Illya asked.

“We keep going,” Napoleon agreed.

There was nothing else to do but that.

Prompt: Cathartic shower/bath

Summary: Their job isn’t an easy one, and some days are harder than others.

Cross-posted to AO3

It was 3 AM, and the shower was running.  Napoleon sat on the couch, listening to the
water running.  It had been a sleepless
night for the both of them, after their last mission—a decidedly somber one, as
Napoleon and Illya had been assigned to deal with the aftermath of a THRUSH
attack on a small village—there had been no signs of it happening, no chatter
that would have alerted them to it, and no way for them to have prevented it.

The carnage had been difficult for both of them to witness,
but Illya especially had been forcefully reminded of his boyhood days during
the war in Kiev.  Upon returning to New
York, they didn’t even bother to try to sleep—if it had come, it would have
been filled with nightmares, anyway.

Illya had gone in for a shower after arriving home, leaving
Napoleon with the cat in the living room.
Finally, Illya, now in a bathrobe, his hair still wet, walked in and sat
down on the couch beside Napoleon, sighing deeply.

“Didn’t help much, did it?” Napoleon asked.

“No,” Illya said.  “How
long was I in there for?”

“Hour and a half almost.”

“Mmh.  There should
be some hot water left, if you want to take one.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass,” Napoleon said.  He passed a hand over his forehead.  “I think I’m just too tired to move.”

“Tired… physically?”

“No, not physically—tired of this,” Napoleon said.  “But we’ve got to keep at it—we can’t let
THRUSH keep getting away with things like this.”

Illya gave him a long look.

“…How can you keep positive in the face of all of this?” he
asked, after a while.  “We see so much
devastation on our missions, and yet, you seem convinced that we are able to
improve things.”

“Well, you have to agree we’re keeping things from getting
worse.  We’re fortunate enough to be in a
position that allows us to do that.”

Illya conceded this.

“Even so…  Do you not
find it draining?”

“Of course I do,” Napoleon said.  “It’s incredibly disheartening.  Sometimes, even I ask myself what the point
of it is.”

“And do you get an answer?”

“Yeah—if not us, then who?
I don’t know if I could settle for not doing what I could.  And I think you feel the same way—because you
wouldn’t have joined U.N.C.L.E. if you were truly cynical that things could
never change.”

Without saying a word, Illya silently admitted that
Napoleon was right.

“But some days are harder than others,” he concluded.

“Some days are,” Napoleon agreed.  “And that’s when we rely on each other to
help us through it.  Because we’re a great
team—you and me.”

He reached out to Illya, who took his hand.  Baba Yaga paused and added her paw to their
hands.

Despite themselves, they both managed a smile at this.

“…And kitty makes three,” Illya added.

Sleep was out of their grasp tonight, but they would
continue on.

Prompt: Surrender

Summary: Part 2 of 2.  When you’ve got the perfect partner, the impossible becomes possible.

Cross-posted to AO3

Illya was certainly willing to trust whatever plan Napoleon
had to get them out of their predicament—ten THRUSHies meant that their enemies
were, no doubt, expecting them to tire and surrender.  And while going quietly might end up working
in their favor temporarily, it was a last resort.

“What is your plan?” Illya whispered.

“That we fall back on the element of surprise,” Napoleon
said.  “Right now, with everyone being
too scared to move, they are expecting us to stand quietly like this until we
give up.”

“But, we won’t.”

“We won’t,” Napoleon agreed.  “If we can find a way to distract them for
just a moment, we can get the drop on them and tranquilize them.  And, knowing you, you probably placed some of
your special fireworks before we ended up surrounded, didn’t you?”

“Mmh, you know me well…”

Napoleon smirked.

“I knew I could count on you.”

“There’s just one small hiccup,” Illya said.  “The charges aren’t timed; they need to be
activated by a detonator—and the activation mechanism is hidden in my
watch.  If I move my right hand to my
watch, the movement will likely cause them to react.”

“My right hand is right near your left,” Napoleon
said.  “Just tell me what to do.”

Their arms had been at their sides, and Napoleon now
slightly moved his right hand to touch Illya’s watch.”

“Just turn the dial a quarter-turn.”

Napoleon did so, and, a few yards away, an explosion went
off.  As they’d hoped, all ten THRUSHies
turned to face the direction of the explosion.

They grabbed their Specials and, still back-to-back,
flawlessly turned around in sync together, each tranquilizing 5 THRUSHies in
rapid succession, with each pair of shots occurring almost simultaneously.

“Well, that went well,” Napoleon grinned.

“That, it did,” Illya said, satisfied.  He wouldn’t get emotional now, but he was
very glad that Napoleon had been here, as he knew he wouldn’t have pulled off
this maneuver with anyone else.

“Well, let’s gather these THRUSHies up into the nearest
U.N.C.L.E. cage,” Napoleon said.  “I’m
sure you’re hungry after that standoff.”

“Very,” Illya agreed, smiling now.

They knew each other well—and that was what made them such
great partners.