"Erm . . . Illya. Do you think you could slow down just a little? I'd prefer to get there alive if it's all the same to you."

"I know how to drive in wet conditions Napoleon," Illya snapped back, tersely.

He was not in a good mood. Their mission had been a success, but not until after Illya had rescued his partner from the clutches of another THRUSH beauty. Napoleon had tried to protest his innocence, claiming he hadn't been swayed by her looks at all, but Illya was in no mood to listen.

"Just humour me please, and slow down," Napoleon pleaded. "With all the rain there has been, the road is more like a river."

Illya sighed heavily, but did as he was asked. He would have preferred not to be driving at all, but the weather was set to get worse and the Old Man wanted them back as soon as possible. There was no other traffic on the road, which Illya correctly assumed to be due to the weather, so he hadn't expected to see the school bus. The vehicle looked to have hit a tree at the side of the road.

"There are children on that bus," Napoleon pointed out.

Illya brought their car to a stop behind the bus. As the two of them walked towards the door, they could hear the children singing. Napoleon knocked, causing some of the children to scream. The door was opened to reveal a handsome, middle-aged woman.

"Oh thank goodness," she exclaimed. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to leave the children and look for help."

"Is anyone hurt?" Napoleon asked, looking in at the faces of about twelve frightened children. They looked to be about seven or eight years old.

"Our Driver, Bert," she told him. "He hit his head and is unconscious. There are a few bruises amongst the children, but nothing serious."

Napoleon stepped into the bus, followed by his partner. Illya had his communicator out and was requesting for HQ to send the local emergency services their way. With that done he then checked on the driver. The man was alive, but in need of medical assistance.

"Don't worry Miss . . .?"

"Lloyd. Mrs Virginia Lloyd."

"Mrs Lloyd. Help should be here in about ten minutes."

"Until they get here, how would you kids like a story?" Napoleon asked the shivering children.

They all nodded silently. Napoleon got himself comfortable on of the seats, while Illya leant against the driver's cab.

"Once upon a time," the senior agent began. "There was a grumpy Russian bear called Niko."

Illya glared at his partner. "Ya ne svarlivym, Napoleon. (I'm not grumpy, Napoleon)

"Niko had a good reason to be grumpy," Napoleon continued, ignoring Illya. "The forest he lived in was ruled by much bigger and scarier bears. The ruling bears told all the animals that everyone had to share, but they made sure that they got the biggest share of everything. This made Niko sad so he tried living in some other forests, but he found out that there were a lot of naughty thrushes, who were trying to spoil them for everyone.

One day, a British bulldog, called Alex, asked Niko if he would like to come and live in his forest. Alex and his friends had formed a crime fighting team who tried to stop the thrushes from being naughty.

When he got to Alex's forest, Niko the Russian bear met Uno the American eagle. At first, Niko and Uno didn't trust each other, because they had been told that their forests were enemies. The bear and the eagle quickly learned that they had more in common than they had differences. The two of them became the very best of friends, and together, they travelled to other forests to stop the naughty thrushes. It turned out that the differences between Niko and Uno made them the most perfect crime fighting team.

They often fought, in the same way that brothers fight; but they still stayed friends. Even when Uno did something really stupid, Niko always forgave him.

So, the moral of the story is, it doesn't matter which forest someone is from. Sometimes, the person you thought was an enemy can be the best friend you've ever had."

When Napoleon finished his little story, Mrs Lloyd led the children in applause. Napoleon grinned at Illya and was surprised to see him grinning back. Illya had loved the analogy the American had used and couldn't help but forgive him his indiscretion.

Mrs Lloyd thanked Napoleon for the tale. "I'm sorry; I didn't get your names."

"I'm Napoleon Solo and this is Illya Kuryakin."

"Solo? So that must mean you're Uno in the story, making Mr Kuryakin the grumpy Russian bear. Do you really fight crime?"

"In a way," Illya replied. "Though, I would like to point out, for the record, that I'm not all that grumpy."

A short while later rescue arrived in the form of an ambulance, the police and a replacement bus. Napoleon gave Mrs Lloyd the civilian contact details for U.N.C.L.E. and the two agents discreetly left the scene.

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

A few days after the crash, Napoleon and Illya found themselves standing at the front of a classroom. They were facing the children that had been on the bus, along with all of their parents, Mrs Lloyd and Mr Waverly. Napoleon didn't normally mind being the centre of attention, but he was feeling slightly uncomfortable. Illya was simply wishing he was elsewhere. Mrs Lloyd stepped forward and began to address the assembled people.

"Welcome to our school today. As you know, we were involved in an accident on our way back from the science museum. These two gentlemen were kind enough to stop and organise our rescue, and I'm pleased to be able to tell you that Bert the driver is going to make a full recovery."

There was a smattering of polite applause from the adults in the room.

"The children have made something they wish to present to our knights in shining armour. Emily, would you please give Mr Solo his."

A shy, blonde girl stood in front of Napoleon and beckoned for him to bend forward. He did as she requested and Emily hung a, dinner plate sized, cardboard medal around his neck. The card was yellow, obviously to represent gold, and was attached to a blue, striped ribbon. Across it were written the words 'Hero Award'. Emily then stuck her hand out to shake his.

"What do we say to Mr Solo children?" Mrs Lloyd prompted.

"Thank you Mr Solo," the children chorused.

"Now Billy, you have Mr Kuryakin's."

Illya bent forward to receive his medal, which was identical to Napoleon's, and shook Billy's hand.

"What do we say children?" The teacher prompted them again.

"Spaciba Illya Nikovitch."

Illya's eyebrows rose up in surprise. He looked at Napoleon, who simply shrugged, equally shocked. Mrs Lloyd leant towards Illya.

"My sister is married to a Russian, in London," she explained, quietly. "I hope you don't mind my asking Mr Waverly your patronymic. I want the children to address you properly."

Illya didn't mind at all. In fact, he was quite honoured at the thought she'd put into it. He smiled warmly at them all and offered a small bow.

Later that day, when they were back in the office, Illya and Napoleon hung their cardboard medals on the wall.

"You know what Tovarisch?" Napoleon said to his partner. "I've been honoured with a few medals in my time, but I think that this one is the best one I've ever been given."

"You are right my friend," Illya agreed. "Though we really should get back to earning such honours."

The end.