Title: The Little Black Book Affair
Author: Kei
Rating: K+
Spoilers: Only by accident if at all
Warnings: Oh puhleeze, it's just a bit of fun
Disclaimers: Illya and Napoleon don't belong to me -I'm just having a little fun with them.
RRRRRIIIIPPPPP!!!!
He knew he was in trouble the moment he stepped into their apartment.
RRRRRIIIIPPPPP!!!!
Napoleon Solo winced as another page in his little black book (actually Volume Five of a 30 volume set) was casually torn from its bindings. Illya glanced at the scrap pinched between his fingers before the page disappeared like the rest -in an old ash tray in a burst of flame.
RRRRRIIIIPPPPP!!!!
Napoleon watched his partner/lover's methodical destruction of his written history of lovers that would have the legendary Machiaveli envious...watched, and did nothing. Okay, maybe Illya had every right to be angry. After all Napoleon had promised to get rid of his infamous tomes of conquest when they had become lovers themselves. But there was such history there! The senior UNCLE agent had hidden the books instead.
How was he to know that Illya would take it into his shaggy blond head to tidy up their shared apartment? Illya never cleaned. Napoleon had photos of the Russian's old apartment as proof.
RRRRRIIIIPPPPP!!!!
Napoleon mourned each incinerated page -oh his poor little black books. He would miss them so.
The senior agent knew he should be doing something about this cruel desecration...and maybe he would have if not for the fact that Illya, too, had a little black book. A very special little black book -each page covered not with the numbers and names of former lovers, but text that didn't look like Cyrillic or any other exotic language that Napoleon knew.
RRRRRIIIIPPPPP!!!!
Napoleon sighed aloud as, finally, the last book went up in flames and Illya graced him with a rare, but decidedly threatening grin. "Well, that is that," he said, stroking the cover of his own little black book. When silence answered the Russian, he prompted "That is that, nyet?"
"It is," Napoleon groaned. "Look, I lied and I'm sorry -d'you forgive me?" He offered a hopeful grin. "Please?"
Illya finally nodded and grinned; a genuine smile this time. "Of course." He glanced at the gilt lettering on his own little black book; the strange text spelling out "Curses and Spells". "So long as there aren't anymore of your...books."
"There aren't." Napoleon sighed aloud. "Well!?"
Illya glanced at the openly irritated rat with familiar chocolate-
brown Solo eyes. He gestured. "Return!"
In an instant, in the place of a brown-eyed rat, was the more familiar brown-eyed UNCLE agent. Napoleon brushed himself off and sighed.
It was his luck to have fallen in love with an agent who was both gorgeous...
...and a warlock.
Happy Hallowe'en!