Preface
He knew that she was going to break his heart the day he slid the ring on her finger. He thought that it would be at the end of that first mission when he went back behind the Iron Curtain and she stayed in the west with the cocky American. Then he was recruited for UNCLE and they became partners.
Good partnerships are hard enough to cultivate between three people of immensely different backgrounds. There was no time for romance when one wrong move could cost the lives of thousands. The tension between them rippled into a tangible ache that was always in the back of his mind. He could see it in her too. The way her eyes would soften when he started to have one of his episodes. She would almost reach to touch him, but at the last minute avoid contact. The lines had to hold.
Months went by as the saved the world each week sometimes twice before Thursday. He liked to think that they were friends. They spent time together that was not strictly case related. She told him about her childhood, and he told her what he could of his. Solo was usually there too, though she almost always placed herself closer to the Russian than the American.
He taught her how to fight, how to throw knives, how to injure someone from a distance, as her size would always be a problem in a hand to hand fight. Solo took her shooting. She hated it. As luck would have it though, the skill came in handy a week later when she had to return fire on an particularly angry Somalian arms dealer. She was still shaking when Illya got to her, taking the gun she was still holding over the unmoving man with three bullets in his she got back to the hotel that night, she finished an entire bottle of vodka before having to yet again be carried to bed.
The next morning she woke up to a glass of water and two aspirin on her night stand. She knew who left them there. It was the same man that made sure there was a hot pot of coffee ready when she woke up every morning. It was the man that taught her how to break out of almost any hold. The man who gave her a bugged engagement ring, a bugged pair of earrings and a bracelet with two way communication.
Some people wouldn't appreciate all he did for her, but she did. That was why she always made a point of gently cleaning his wounds when he was hurt. She always made sure to wear one of his gifts, because she knew he worried when she didn't. She always woke him when he was having a nightmare. He never wanted to talk, but she would make him a cup of tea with black cherries and sit with him until his hands stopped twitching.
If they had kept their distance, they might have kept the status quo for years, but that wasn't in the cards for them. He knew she was going to break his heart the day he slid the ring on her finger.