Illya glanced up from his book as his partner came over to his table and dumped two trays laden with eatables. His eyes gleamed, and Napoleon smirked.
"Don't say I never give you anything. The day's special cream of broccoli soup, chicken salad sandwich, followed by apple pie, custard and ice-cream…"
He broke off with a shake of his head as Illya had already demolished half the sandwich and was starting on the soup.
"Thank you, Napoleon. This is good."
"If you've still got room after that lot, they're saving a huge slice of chocolate fudge cake for you."
"Of course I'll have room!" Illya replied, picking up his book. Napoleon nudged the cover to better see the title. He frowned.
"I downloaded that book on to your kindle for you, Illya…plus at least twenty others on your reading list. How come I never see you using it?"
Illya put the book down again, and shrugged.
"I just prefer the feel of good old fashioned paper in my hands, that's all. The benefit of a proper book is that its batteries will never run out."
"But you can read a kindle anywhere, even in the dark! You have to admit that it is a brilliant alternative, and saves so much space at home too."
Illya smiled.
"Not in my home, Napoleon. I just love the feel and smell of a book in my hands."
Napoleon sat back, and shook his head ruefully.
"I have never met anyone quite like you, my friend. You are so resistant to moving with the times. You carry a cellphone whilst you're working because you have no choice, but you could opt for the new smartphone that does everything. Computer, camera…"
"My phone has a camera, Napoleon. I agree that addition is a useful one!"
"Granted, but your phone could do just about anything…back in the day, when Mister Waverly was in section two, he had to keep reporting back for information. Even tracking agents was a major department here at HQ. These days we have the trackers on our cellphones, and Phyllida hidden away in her secret den with her laptop receiving satellite signals from every agent we have, wherever we are in the world. And why do you always complain about the earpiece?"
"I do not trust technology, Napoleon. It is very useful when it works, but as soon as we get a power-cut, everything grinds to a halt! Information retrieval is much faster for us than it would have been in Mister Waverley's day…and we can usually get what we need by logging onto the net…but I believe you are mistaken to put so much trust in your gadgets my friend. When we get captured by THRUSH, anything we have on us is confiscated, and then all our passwords and encryptions have to be changed again just in case THRUSH succeeds in decoding them. Look at last month, you had to change your password three times on your cellphone because of THRUSH. And wait for the day our internet connection goes down and we urgently need information? Back in Waverly's day, all information was carefully catalogued and stored down in the basement for future reference."
"Yes, I've seen photographs of the file rooms they had down there, Illya! All that paperwork takes up so much space, and some poor people employed just to keep it tidy. Can you imagine the dull task that must have been?"
"I can, and I can't say I would have fancied it either, but the room was fire-proofed, as were the cabinets, and they were always available."
Napoleon grinned widely as Illya polished off his ice-cream and glanced toward the counter where he knew his slice of cake would be waiting.
"I'll get your cake for you…do you know what I think Illya? I think you were born fifty years too late. You would have loved being an operative before we had so much technology to help us…"
He marched back to the counter and returned with two slices of cake, one of them gargantuan in size. He watched in fascination as Illya dealt with the cake swiftly and with gusto.
"Um…Illya, since we are on the subject of computers…"
"Actually, Napoleon, you were trying to persuade me to upgrade my cellphone, and to read books on a tablet rather than in paper."
He licked chocolate from his fingers with obvious enjoyment, and gave a lopsided grin.
"What's wrong with your pc this time? Your knowledge of computers is the same as your knowledge of cars, Napoleon. You have intimate knowledge of how to use them, but as soon as something goes wrong, you are stumped."
Napoleon couldn't deny it. Illya Kuryakin really was an enigma. He was brilliant at using the office computer. He could do anything he liked with it, seemingly without trying. He had proven himself to be a super-hacker; a skill that had proven especially helpful on more than one occasion in finding information about THRUSH and their latest schemes. He could even take a computer apart, right down to the last screw and circuit-board, and put it back together again, as well or better than before. And yet, the man did not own a computer. Napoleon had even offered to buy him a brand new laptop as a gift, but Illya had politely, but very firmly refused and asked for a new bookcase instead. Yes, the man was definitely an enigma.
"Um…Illya…did you know that Maggie gave me that recipe for the chocolate fudge cake?"
Illya's eyebrows raised.
"Is that a veiled bribery attempt? You want me to come around and fix your computer for you? You know that I have a date tonight. I have dinner reservations for Suzanne and I to dine at her favourite restaurant, and the theatre afterwards."
"Mister Waverly has given us the afternoon off. I can bake that cake for you while you look at my machine…and I'll even chauffeur you to your dinner date later."
"And I get to keep the rest of the cake?"
Napoleon nodded, grinning.
"It's a deal."
Illya stood up.
"Come on then, let's go and breathe life into your old PC. Have you ever considered buying yourself a new one?"
"Yes I have, often, but I made myself a promise, that I can't back out of."
"What promise?"
"I promised myself that I would buy a computer for my best friend and see him enjoying it before I buy myself a new one."
Illya looked dismayed.
"What? Does that mean I am going to be expected to give up every free afternoon fixing your machine because you're too stubborn to get a decent one? And you were lecturing me about upgrading my cellphone!"
"Well I made the promise before I had realized what a pig-headed cave-man you are, Illya."
Illya glared at his partner.
"If I let you buy me that laptop you were talking about, you will buy a new machine for yourself that I won't have to fix?"
"Yes."
"And you'll still bake me that chocolate fudge cake?"
Napoleon clapped the Russian on the back.
"Yes, my friend, I'll even bake you the cake. Come on, let's go."