"Illya, you do know that just about all of the women here at headquarters would love to go out on a date with you, don't you?"

Illya rolled his eyes.

"Most of them must be older than I am, Napoleon. I'm not into older women!"

Napoleon smirked.

"Oh, I don't know. They can't all be older than you. How old are you? Twenty-three?"

"Just." Illya replied, fixing his partner with a glare. "But it really makes no difference, Napoleon, I am not interested in dating anyone."

Napoleon frowned.

"You're not…um…are you?"

Illya frowned.

"What?"

"Are you…you know…gay?"

Illya's glare turned notably frosty.

"No, I am not, and what makes you think my dating habits are any of your business anyway?"

"I, er, just want you to be happy, that's all."

"I am perfectly happy Napoleon."

"But you've been here five months already, and you haven't had a single date."

"You have been keeping tabs on me, have you? I did not realize you were my keeper as well as my partner. Has it not occurred to you that I might have a perfectly good reason for not choosing to go on a date?"

"Really?"

Illya shrugged.

"I always have good reasons for every decision I make, Napoleon. Even when it comes to deciding whether to ask a woman out. Naturally, I am not obliged to keep you informed of my personal life outside of the office, either."

"So you do entertain women, but not from here? Very sound decision!" Napoleon grinned triumphantly. Illya groaned.

"That is not what I said, and you know it."

Napoleon gave a laugh.

"Illya, you say you have a good reason for not dating anyone; from work, at least. If it is a good reason, just say so. You'd only need tell one person. They'll all know it in no time."

"And have my private life the subject of office gossip? No."

"Well my friend, you will just have to put up with the flirting and the innuendo."

Illya shrugged.

"It had not bothered me too much until you pointed it out to me. I can live with it. I, at least, know how to say `No!'"

"Oh, I know how to. It's just more fun to say `Yes!'"

"I've finished my report now, Napoleon. I'll leave it in your `out' tray for you, and I'll get off home early."

Napoleon gave him a sour look. He had been hoping to get Illya's help with his own paperwork. As the CEA, his workload was considerably greater than Illya's, and the paperwork was the one aspect of his job that he truly loathed. Illya ignored the look and grabbed his coat on his way out.

He arrived at his apartment block just as a taxi was pulling up. Illya glanced at the occupant. An attractive young woman with long wavy red hair, brown eyes and dressed in a smart blue trouser suit with a rather flamboyant yellow hat. She grinned broadly as the blond ran to her.

"Illya!"

Illya swept the young woman into a hug.

"Anya!"

The two gazed into each other's eyes for several seconds.

"How did you know I was here?"

Anya smiled.

"It was your grandfather…My father has been looking for you ever since your camp was destroyed when we were small. Aleksander Illyich Surikov became our last hope of finding out if you were still alive. We had a letter from him out of the blue just three weeks ago, saying that you were here in New York. He arranged for my visa."

Illya stared at her.

"You mean you are here to stay?"

Anya nodded, her smile faltering slightly.

"You don't want me here?"

"I am surprised to see you…come here."

Illya drew her into a kiss.

"How was your journey?"

"Tame. Nothing happens on a ship. Why on earth Papa couldn't let me fly to America I do not know."

Illya led Anya upstairs to his apartment.

"Did Surikov tell you anything about me? Why I am here?"

"He said government work. Why do you call him Surikov? Is he not your dedushka?"

"Oh Anya."

Illya wrapped his arm around her and led her to the sofa.

"There is a lot you do not know. There is a lot to tell and more to forget. Tell me first. I must hear it from your own lips. Why did you come here?"

Anya stared at him. Could he possibly have forgotten?

"We were promised Illya. We were bound together. You and me, forever."

"Anya, we were six years old. That decision was made by your papa and my uncle, and against my mother's wishes. Are you certain that this is what you truly want?"

"Don't you? Illya, we were so close back then. Whenever our tribes met it was you and me."

"I know. We played games together, but we were children, Anya."

"You don't want me. I came all this way for you for nothing."

She pulled away from him, tears starting to fall. Illya handed her a clean tissue, and sat close beside her.

"Anya, look at me. Look at this."

He held out his hand, and she saw a ring on his finger. A wedding ring. A sob escaped.

"You married someone else?"

Illya blinked, then took her hands in his.

"No, Anya, I wear this ring for you. Always for you. It has only been you. My very best, very first friend. But I cannot join with you. I cannot marry you. Not until my fortieth birthday."

"Forty!?"

Gently, Illya took her in his arms and explained to her the rules by which he was governed at UNCLE. Anya listened, and wept softly. Her heart was breaking, and by the look in his eyes, so was Illya's. The cruelty of the world that had parted them, could not yet allow them to reunite.

As the sun set over the city, in one another's arms, they both wept.