Written for Uncle HQ's HODOWE: Shrove Tuesday/Mardi Gras/Carnivale FanFic Challenge
The 'Carnivale' Affair
The mission was standard and yet anything but. They were to thwart another THRUSH attempt but not at just any place at just any time. They were in Rio de Janeiro and it was Carnivale. Napoleon was supposed to become part of the spectators and Illya was to become a part of the performers.
Illya's paleness was not anything that would call attention to him or even be noticed because all of his visible skin had been painted gold and his hair hidden beneath an elaborate headpiece. His costume was all vibrant purple and gold as he moved in the samba rhythms while helping to keep the beat with his tamborim drum.
She came closer to him as the parade moved sinuously along. Her costume and makeup were the night to his day. She was all blue and silver with a feathery halo for her body coming from the back of her costume. Pale feathers that were silvery white nearest her body, but that slowly darkened to an indigo hue at their tips. An exotic hummingbird of the night drawn to the heat of the purple and gold orchid that he was.
Drink was passed through the crowds and in the end, Illya couldn't have said what it was - the music, the dance, the heat, the beverage, the infectious mood? Maybe it was the potent combination of it all, but the end result was that the orchid and the hummingbird found their own spot for a private samba that for a short time made the world disappear. There was no mission, no parade, no barrier between need and desire - no one else existed in the world but two people taking everything that the night - and the other - had to give.
Ash Wednesday was an appropriate name for the day, he mused numbly as he stood still as a statue, looking down at the THRUSH agent he had just exchanged gunfire with. He was bleeding badly from her shot. She was dead from his.
Looking down at her face, he wondered if she had recognized his features without the golden paint just as he had recognized hers without the silver?
His hand moved with a mind of its own. Holstering his gun. Pressing against the wound to slow the blood flow. Illya didn't even acknowledge the presence of his worried partner, but he also didn't fight him as Napoleon gently steered him away and took him to find a doctor.
His mind, oddly enough, was fixated on an old movie he had seen not so long ago called 'Brief Encounter'. One line from it was stuck in his head and the meaning of it was clear to him now.
"I had no thoughts at all, only an overwhelming desire not to feel anything ever again."
The season for the breaking down of barriers was passed. He would rebuild his barriers back again - stronger than ever.