The 'Wedding Bell Blues' Affair

"Illya?"

. . . . .

"Illya?"

. . . . .

"Illya?

sigh

"I keep ignoring you but you will not go away."

rustle

"I give up. What is the topic weighing on your far too active mind tonight, Napoleon?"

"Ever think about family?"

"In what sense of the word?"

"Huh?"

"Think about family as in wondering about who my ancestors were? Or family as in my immediate kin? Or family in the future sense as in a family I might start one day?"

"Ah. Thinking about family in the starting one eventually sense."

"Well, yes. In that vague sort of way that I think about how it would be to walk on the surface of the Moon one day. Both possibilities are interesting to think of and equally highly unlikely to happen. Though perhaps the moon walk might be more realistic."

"Why rate forming a family as so highly unlikely?"

"Can you imagine giving up field work?"

"You're answering a question with a question, but no. That will only happen when the rules force me to."

"Well, it is the same for me. I too plan to remain in the field until drug from it. And starting a family after that point would seem - odd. You?"

"Me what?"

"If you are asking me about family, I would think that means you are thinking about it yourself. So? How do you think of family, my friend?"

"Hm. I guess that I think about it in that same wistful sort of way that you think about your next meal."

"In that it is constantly on your mind? That would worry me."

"No, no. I meant more that I find it to be a pleasant daydream."

"Food is not a daydream. It is serious business."

chuckle

"And marriage is not serious business?"

"One can live far longer without marriage than without a meal, Napoleon."

"True."

"So. Since you daydream of marriage, who is she?"

"Pardon?"

"If you daydream of marriage, then surely there must be a dream woman if not one of flesh and blood. Describe her to me."

"Uhmm. Intelligent. Smallish build. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Easy for me to talk to."

"Napoleon, if you do not stop describing me, I will have to start asking Mister Waverly to cover the cost of two rooms instead of sharing. Unless you plan to propose and make an honest man of me."

sound of thrown magazine

"Russian."

"American."

"Guess that was a pretty vague description. But it's not like I ever get a clear view of her."

"Perhaps that is the appeal."

"Pardon?"

"Perhaps the mystery of who such a woman might be is what leads you back to the daydream more than the thoughts of what marriage would be like?"

"Hmm. You may have a point there. So - what about yours?"

"My what? My imaginary bride?"

"Sure. I bet I could guess though."

"This I must hear. Go ahead, Napoleon."

"Intelligent. Multi-lingual. Attractive. Excellent cook."

"You know me so well."

chuckle

"I knew food would be in the equation somehow, tovarich. Oh well, even if we don't have mystery wives in our future, we always have each other."

"Are we back to my needing to request separate accommodations?"

"Only if you plan on walking around in those blue pajamas of yours again, you tease."

"Has anyone ever told you before that you have a very peculiar sense of humor?"

"I do believe that you have mentioned that to me a time or two, partner mine."

"Napoleon?"

"Yes, Illya?"

"Go back to sleep before I am tempted to smother you with a pillow."

chuckle

"I'll try. Good night, tovarich."