Snow

by Miss Pamela

"It's snowing," Napoleon observed.

"It is indeed." Illya didn't bother to put down the binoculars.

Napoleon sighed. They were stuck in the back of a delivery van, watching a completely empty warehouse. Napoleon was beginning to doubt that THRUSH was even aware of its existence, much less that they were using it for a secret laboratory.

"It's getting cold."

Illya didn't move from his post, but Napoleon could see the irritation evident in the tenseness of his shoulders. "Your powers of observation never fail to astound me."

"I am a spy, you know."

Illya snorted.

Napoleon was bored out of his mind and he was very nearly out of cigarettes. If THRUSH was not going to arrive to provide him with some dangerous entertainment, then he would have to make his own.

Irritating Illya was one of his more favorite dangerous pastimes.

He sighed again, stretched and checked his watch. He waited another moment, sighed louder and adjusted his jacket.

Illya's jaw began to twitch and he put down the binoculars. Excellent. "Are you bored?"

Napoleon smiled his most charming smile. "Hardly, my friend. You're providing me with sufficient amusement."

"I live to serve." Illya turned back towards the window, shoulders set.

"Oh, come on. Is my company so distasteful?"

"You reek of perfume. It is giving me a headache."

"I beg to differ," Napoleon countered. "Barbara" reeked of perfume. I merely..." He trailed his hand lazily around in the air "...passed through her atmosphere."

"Hmph."

Napoleon shivered a little and went back to staring at his partner. He was in a particularly dour mood tonight, which was really saying something when you were talking about Illya. He had the overwhelming urge to poke him, just to shake him up a little, but immediately decided against it. Napoleon liked his fingers in one piece, thank you very much.

Aha, he thought. With a sudden flash of brilliant madness, he quickly leaned over and brushed a kiss on Illya's cheek.

Illya reacted immediately, dropping the binoculars and whirling around to stare at Napoleon. His jaw had dropped in a rare expression of utter shock, and his right hand crept up to touch the cheek that Napoleon had kissed. "You...you must be very bored indeed."

Napoleon leaned back, smiling. "Not anymore."

He watched Illya struggle to compose himself, starting with straightening his tie and ending with a fierce scowl in Napoleon's direction. He picked the binoculars up and stared resolutely out the window, the very picture of complete concentration. Only Napoleon could have noticed the shock echoing around his face, and the slight flush that tinted his cheeks.

Napoleon cast his eye out the window and watched the snowflakes swirl and dip overhead. He thought about the stark beauty of winter, and about the rough feel of Illya's cheek. He thought about his warm apartment and his Barbara-scented sheets. He looked back towards his partner, gripping the binoculars so hard that his knuckles were white.

"It's snowing," he said.

"Still?" Ilya asked, his voice admirably even.

"You know, I'm getting rather used to it." Napoleon replied, smiling into the darkness.