"Daddy, what is this?" Five year old Leona Nicole was sitting with Napoleon in one of the spare bedrooms in what used to be the penthouse next door before he bought it and combined it with his to create one large living space after he and Illya were given permission to raise the then two year old biracial orphan they had brought to New York from South Korea.

"What is what, My Sweet?" Daddy asked without turning around. It was a miserably cold Saturday in March and he had decided it was the perfect day to finally go through some of the boxes of stuff he had managed to accumulate over the years. He used to pay to store it, but decided to utilize this room as an attic of sorts and had the boxes delivered more than a year ago and stuck them, unopened, in here to inspect at his leisure.

"This thing."

Napoleon twisted around to see Leona attempting to pull a cat statue out of a box. "Be careful! It's more fragile than it looks!" he admonished sharply. He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he had hurt his daughter's feelings. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I didn't mean to sound angry. I'm not, it's just that this little statue means a lot to me." He leaned in, kissed Leona's temple and then pulled the ten inch tall cat figure gently from its box. "It looks like metal," he explained, "but it's really ceramic. That's something that can break easily."

Leona had visibly relaxed when Daddy used his soothing tones to apologize. It wasn't often that he or Papa spoke sternly to her, so when they did, she knew it was important and paid attention. "Is that what fragile means, Daddy? It could break?"

"Yes, my smart girl, it does. Would you like to hold it?"

Her smile lit her face and his heart. "Yes, please. I promise I'll be careful." He placed it on her lap and she turned it slowly as she took in the sight of it. "It's really pretty, I like the blue and gold a lot. Oh, and there's a duck! What are all these lines and pictures, Daddy?"

"Those are called hieroglyphics." He smiled in approval when she repeated the word back to him. "That's how the Egyptians wrote things a very long time ago. Do you remember Papa showing you where Egypt is when you two were looking at his Atlas?"

"Yes, it's in Africa. But, why do you have this, Daddy? You bought it?"

"No," he replied as he picked the statue up and placed it on top of another box, "It was a gift from someone very special. My wife, Brianna.* She loved reading about ancient Egypt. She had hoped the two of us would go there one day. When we were seniors in high school, we went on a class trip to New York City and one of the places we went was the Brooklyn Museum. She loved it because they have a very large collection of really old things from Egypt. She saw this in the gift shop there and got it for me. She said it reminded her of me."

Leona reached out her hand and stroked the back of the cat gently as her eyebrows knitted together as she thought. She looked at her father quizzically and asked, "Where is she, Daddy? How come Brianna doesn't live with us? Is it because of Papa?"

"Why would you think that, Leona?"

"Papa doesn't seem to like a lot of people. He doesn't talk to people like you do, Daddy. He told me he would rather talk to me and you and Aunt Rosie and Uncle Lamont than to anybody else. So did Papa not like her?"

Napoleon smiled sadly and said, "You are a very observant little girl, did you know that? But Papa never met Brianna. She died a long time ago, long before I knew Papa."

"Oh." The little girl pulled her feet into her seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Do you, um, do you think she would have liked me, Daddy?"

"Are you kidding? She would have loved you, so much. In fact, I think that she would like it if you kept the statue in your room. Would you like that?"

"You mean I can have it?" she asked excitedly.

"I do. Like you said, Leona, it's very pretty so it should be on display, not cooped up in a box. So, if you promise to take good care of it, you can take it to your room."

"I promise, Daddy, thank you! And everytime I look at it, it'll remind me of you!" She jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around her father's neck. She kissed his cheek and squealed happily when he hugged her tightly. When he began to loosen his grip, she tightened hers and whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry Brianna's dead, Daddy."

He turned his head to kiss her back and replied, "Me, too. Thank you, Baby. Go on, now; take that to your room." He swatted her playfully on her butt and watched as she carefully picked up the statue and headed off to her bedroom. He sat quietly for a few minutes and allowed himself to remember a life he hadn't thought about in years. I do miss you, Brianna and the plans we made. This isn't what we envisioned, but I do have a family now and by me giving Leona that cat, you're still a part of it. Just as he was about to get back to the task at hand, he heard footfalls coming down the hallway.

Illya appeared in the doorway. "Leona Nicole knocked on my door to show me what you had given her. She told me you mentioned Brianna. Are you alright, moy droog?"

"I am. She would have liked you, you know. You two could have talked about Egyptology for hours."

Illya patted his partner's shoulder. "I am sure I would have liked her as well. I still do not like leaving our daughter on the other side of the apartment unsupervised, so I am going to be in the kitchen."

"The kitchen? Doing what, pray tell?"

"Making deviled eggs. I make very good ones.** I will see you later."

"Make sure Leona watches you. I don't want you burning the house down." He thought he heard the Russian mutter Blockhead as he turned away, but he wasn't sure.

*ref. to "The Moon and Memories"

**ref. to "Illya's First Cooking Lesson"