Illya regarded the vodka in his glass. Ah, vodka, the perfect lover, both cold, hot, able to strip all the facades away until the naked truth remains. He drained the glass, slightly disappointed that the second bottle was about to join its empty cousin in the dust bin. He was going to have a head on him tomorrow, but at least it would be enough to explain away his unpleasant mood.

There was a noise at the hotel door and Napoleon walked in, whistling. His hair was tousled, his tie slightly askew and Illya sighed sadly, going back to the vodka. At least with you, dushinka, I know you'll not dance for another. At least you need and want me. He emptied the bottle.

"Hey, you're still up."

"In a manner of speaking," Illya muttered. "Good night's hunting?"

Napoleon dropped into the chair beside him, his eyes unreadable. "Reasonably so." There were lipstick smudges on his shirt collar.

"At least one of us is happy." He kept the anger and envy from his voice. What can women give you, Napoleon, that I couldn't? I'd give you anything you asked willingly and without… His brain froze up and he frowned. He hated English at times… без пределов или boundries. Я дал бы Вам все, что я имею, если Вы только видели бы меня.* Yes, Russian was much easier.

"You should have come with me."

"Why?" Illya's comment was lost to the glass as he drank again.

"What?"

"I said, who'd have me?" Illya pushed up, out of his chair. "I'm going to bed." He swayed slightly and Napoleon was there with a supporting hand. Illya shrugged it off and walked to the bed, his path admirably straight.

"I could think of several women you could have for the asking," Napoleon said, watching his partner strip to his shorts and kept from licking his lips as Illya ran a hand over his chest. And one man, if you'd just give me a sign. If you'd just make any… He needed to keep his thoughts in check if he was going to climb into bed beside his partner and not embarrass himself. The last thing he wanted to do was explain away his erection tonight.

Even with the lights out, Napoleon could see Illya's sharp profile in the dark as he exited the bathroom. He settled in beside him.

"Did you ever wonder why I drink after a mission, Napoleon?"

"Same reason I find a woman. To be human again."

"Very astute. Wrong, but astute."

"So why do you drink?"

"Because you feel the need to find a woman and never ask…"

"Illya?" Napoleon propped himself up on his elbows, but he knew he'd lost the Russian. And then he smiled slightly as the words replayed in his head and he brushed the soft blond hair off his partner's forehead. Or perhaps, he'd just found him.

*without limits or boundaries. I'd give you everything I have if you'd only see me