Disclaimer: You read the others, you know the drill.

Notes: Kid-fic!

REAL Notes: The stuff that Elaine is reading is a Croatian translation of a French novella called "L'Amant", and it was translated by Zeljko Klaic. I'd put the actual title but my computer doesn't have that alphabet anywhere and neither did our IM session...

Synopsis: A mission to retrieve a family goes sour, and now Illya is faced with problems involving a child, Celeste, and a man bent on stealing voices.

Culture Shock

Part 4: The Silent Treatment Affair

Anyone who passed by without a closer look would have thought Elaine to be deeply absorbed in her work, eyes a-glint as she struggled with some thorny puzzle of idiom that would unravel into something rewarding and ultimately useful for her current employers. That is indeed what any other clerk in the Translations and Filing section thought as they went about their business, paying little mind to this singularly talented young woman and her current task.

She took a deep breath in anticipation and turned the page, not realizing that a visitor had stopped by her desk and now read through the stack of translated documents to gain some idea of their merit or lack thereof. This is getting better and better, she thought as she turned each phrase over in her mind like juicy morsels and thanked providence for the colleague in her prior place of employment that had thought to give her this particular piece of literature.

A voice speaking nearby did little to distract her until she realized that it was Slavic-accented male speech painting each word of translated English with disbelief and faint disgust. "I smell the scents of welcome, the signs of acceptance from the depths of the body, wisps of smoke from a willing victim set aflame..."

Elaine dropped her reading material, startled, and glanced upward guiltily at the most decidedly unamused countenance of Illya, who frowned slightly and retrieved the book. "Honestly, it's not what you think," she stammered, making a futile grab for her lost treasure and pouting when it was moved out of reach.

"The naked young lady on the cover would dare to say otherwise," remarked Illya, opening the cover and skimming through the pages. After some minutes of study, he snapped the book closed again and looked back to the now furiously-blushing Elaine. "Inappropriate."

Elaine, struggling to salvage the situation, now turned indignant. "It's reading practice," she hissed, "and a gift from a coworker. It's not in English anyway, so what's the big deal?"

"Your skill with the language does not bother me so much as how it is put to use. If that is how you served your military where you came from, then it would be an understatement to say that I'm worried."

And now for your saving roll... critical failure! Elaine felt her guts turn leaden when she realized that she had been well and truly caught and that there would be no way out of this situation. "Would it help any if I said that I've gotten all of today's work done and had nothing else to do?" This attempt was not even met with a reply, and Elaine sighed. "All right, how much trouble am I in?"

"That is up to you." Pleased murmurs and giggles could now be heard as yet another visitor made their appearance in the Translations office, happiness that quickly turned sour as the source of their admiration passed them by with other plans in mind. Elaine let out a dismayed mew; at any other time, this gentleman would have been a welcome distraction, but now he would only serve to further her humiliation. "If you are really looking for trouble, then here it is. You're right on time, Napoleon..."

Unaware of what he'd just walked into, Napoleon shot a puzzled look at Illya. "On time for what?"

Illya reopened the book to the dogeared page marking Elaine's most recent reading, then skimmed forward until he found a satisfactory passage. "Elaine was just demonstrating some of her skills in translation. Why don't you read this for us, Elaine?"

Elaine stood and read over the indicated phrases, forcing herself to grab onto the edge of the desk as her knees went weak from nerves. "O-open me and drink... let me quench your thirst... or until I am stripped, withered, dried out and exhausted..."

"That will be enough. Thank you, Elaine." Illya closed the book and handed it back to its owner, then turned and left with no further words.

"That was... interesting," Napoleon muttered, watching his partner walk away for a moment before turning back to the radiant red flare of Elaine's normally calm features. "It's a good thing I came in when I did – you look like you need some air."

"Tell me about it." Elaine tidied up her desk and made sure to carefully secure the indemnifying book before likewise leaving the office, Napoleon a step behind. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

"Worse things could have happened," replied Napoleon, giving her a reassuring smile. "Illya was at least charitable to you. Mr. Waverly would probably have flayed you alive. I do have one question, though..."

"Shoot."

"Isn't the real thing better than reading about it? Even as it was so masterfully rendered by you, under such incredible pressure."

Elaine shrugged, then scowled when she caught the drift of this inquiry. "I wouldn't know, Mr. Solo. I haven't had anything to compare it to for the past three years, and that doesn't seem likely to change."

Having found that item he was looking for was actually in Filing and not in Translations, Illya grumbled and hoped that the next person he was about to see would be a tad more professional, for all her confines to a desk. The wound had healed well but still gave her enough problems to make the doctors hesitate on releasing her from limited duties or the crutch, and her tendency to over-exert herself in order to get off said duties was taking it's toll and keeping her on it.

Which made it only a small surprise when he walked in to see her lying on a couch nearby with her leg bent and looking like she needed help straightening out, though he had to admit he should've foreseen this coming.

"Need a hand?" he asked as she looked up at him. With a frown his way, she straightened her leg with a grimace and sighed.

"My knees had to give out on me now," she muttered as she stood slowly, testing her leg. "At least I got industrial-strength pain-killers with codine before. What can I do for you today, Illya?"

He handed her the note. "I need a file on someone, Dr. Elijah Wintser and his wife, Karen. Some recent activity has caused us to believe they may be in danger and need to be moved."

Celeste checked the file and nodded, walking towards the back as he followed her, Celeste asking, "So, according to this you stopped by Translations too. How's Elaine?"

"Humbled, I suppose."

"Oh, someone came in and could translate as well as she could?" Celeste knelt by the appropriate cabinet and opened it, shuffling through the folders for the number. "Or was this something else?"

"Something else, entirely."

"Huh. Should I be worried?"

"I do not think you should," he told her, leaning against the row they were at as she checked, "she was simply reading something that was not recommended for while one was on the job, and I spoke to her about it. Last I saw her, she had left to speak with Napoleon."

"You know, there's some rumors going around about them dating. As she stays here and he always goes out, even with other ladies, I would have to guess they--."

Two new voices, this one of Ms. Delia Jackson and Ms. Sarah Evans, cut her short. "He made her read it to Napoleon?"

"I'm amazed she's still working! You should have heard it...the type of smut those two bring to work, I'm amazed Mr. Waverly puts up with them at all."

"They're nice girls," Evans said in defense, "and it's not their fault, after all. After their stay here, maybe they'll be more...decent."

A sniff. "After the phrase I heard from that book, they should be. I'm glad Mr. Kuryakin had some sense and reprimanded her in such a way. Maybe now that she's a laughing stock, Mr. Solo will stop spending so much time with her. Did you hear that he once spent the night over while Celeste was in Medical?"

"I did, but nothing happened...did it?"

"With Solo's reputation, I would be surprised if it didn't. Still, perhaps he enjoys ladies over s--."

The filing cabinet slammed shut suddenly, causing everyone to jump and Illya to hear the two secretaries retreating. He turned and faced Celeste, who had an unreadable look on her face and the file in one hand. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but as she was normally expressive in the first place, this scared him a little.

"Thank you," he said, holding out his hand for the file before it was pushed roughly against his chest, Celeste pushing back and towards the exit as she said, "I don't know or care what rank you hold in this little organization, but blackmailing Elaine is my job only because I don't let her business get out in such a manner. You do it again and you'll be in for a whole new world of hurt, and don't think I can't pull it off. Now get out of my sight."

With that, she shoved him out the doors just as they opened, turned, and stalked back towards where her gossiping coworkers had been.

Illya looked at the folder, happy it was gotten, and sighed. Somehow, he realized this was not about to be his day.

Act 1: "When I was a Child..."

Certain signs are there for all of us to notice when days are going to be good or bad. Sometimes, of course, the higher-ups decide to screw with us anyway and make good days turn out bad, or bad days turn out to be worse then we expected.

Said higher-ups also pick on certain people, mainly spies or anyone who is trying to save the known world from a terrible injustice or demise.

So yes, the greater powers of the Universe are really just writers with nothing better to do then torment the unsuspecting.

Also a good point is the fact that said higher powers enjoy tormenting a certain blond Russian as much as insanely possible that it's a wonder he's not dead or hasn't gone looking for a job elsewhere, as his thoughts were currently going to as another bullet came dangerously close to his head while he was hiding from the snipers that had chosen to attack him as he was going about his assignment.

Illya had to remember that easy assignments rarely were that, always had some evil twist to them, or were just a prelude to an even worse assignment that usually involved him being shot at, kidnapped, tortured, imprisoned, saving Napoleon, or stuck with someone he couldn't stand. This one had no Napoleon, though he would've been helpful at this moment to help take out or distract the snipers. Shot at was already happening, tortured was something he wanted to avoid, as was being kidnapped or imprisoned, but sadly he was now stuck with someone...well, something, he normally couldn't stand.

Fredrick was all of five years old and had been hiding when his parents had been captured. Illya had found him later and, when the people had come to get more evidence, all of which Illya had on him, he had grabbed the young boy and was now waiting for backup that was supposed to have arrived five minutes ago.

The boy was currently covering his ears and curled tightly into a ball, so at least not running away or doing anything silly. Before he had kicked Illya in the back hard enough to bruise, and nearly hit him in the kidney a few times while the spy had been taking him to safety.

A few shots from the other side and the lack of shots at his hiding spot told Illya that help had finally arrived. His mood wasn't improved that it was two agents he couldn't stand and who tended to speak badly of his background anyway. They looked him over as he picked the boy up and decided to take his own car back. He was lucky it hadn't been shot, but the traffic had turned into lunchtime traffic and made it harder to get back. On top of that, Fredrick seemed scared of him and only came with him if bodily picked up.

Illya disliked children, though not because of the fact that children disliked him. Most seemed to like him, but he had no idea as to how to handle them, and while he was good at lying, a child often saw through it. Napoleon was good with children...if that report from what had been titled "The Finny Foot Affair" said anything, he had children liking him no matter what the situation. So Illya left him to deal with children, and himself to deal with the adults as need be.

Though from the fact that Celeste didn't wish to speak to him for what happened today, for all it was Elaine's fault, made him wonder about his adult-skills though. Napoleon had gotten a call for an assignment while with Elaine and while Illya had looked up his own. It had been a small surprise when he learned that Napoleon would be away for the remainder of the week, and that Celeste had managed to salvage Elaine's reputation. How, he wasn't sure and hadn't had the time to ask, but from the looks on the secretary's faces when asked, it had involved the two who were gossiping and it hadn't been good for them.

Of course, all bad things had to happen to him, for as he was trying to get to Waverly and when he put the child down, Fredrick took that moment to disappear from his sight.

Celeste looked up at the sound of the door opening, then frowned upon not seeing anyone there. She looked around before, as the door closed, looked over her desk and down in time to see a young boy look up at her with wide brown eyes.

She smiled at him, waving her hand a little. "Hi."

The boy blinked at her, and she took in the slightly dirty clothing, complete with something that looked like it was out of those old black and white movies or shows involving children, and his hair, a dusty blond color, was ruffled and in disarray.

"You okay? What are you doing here?"

He looked back at the door then up at her again.

"Hiding?"

A nod, which at least confirmed he spoke English, but obviously didn't speak. Celeste frowned and then said, "Well, come around here if you're hiding, okay? You can be hidden over here a lot more then over there."

There was a look at the counter then the boy started to walk around as the doors opened again and the one person Celeste didn't want to see rushed in, stopping as he spotted the boy, who had paled and was now looking like he was ready to bolt.

Illya looked at the boy with some anger then growled, "There you are," before walking forward as the boy bolted under Celeste's desk. Not bothering to ask, Illya started after him when Celeste reached over and grabbed his ear, causing him to stop instantly and forcing him to look up at her.

"What," she demanded in a voice that sounded a little too much like her mother, "is going on?"

He grimaced at the grip on his ear and said, "He's part of the assignment I'm working on. His parents have been kidnapped and I'm trying to get information!"

"By scaring the poor kid to death just by appearing and saying something?" She stood, dragging him up with her as she continued, "By treating him like an enemy instead of an obviously young and scared little kid who doesn't know what's going on? Unless you give me a better reason then that, Kuryakin, I'd say you'd better find a new tone of voice to take with him before you try again."

"Celeste, he--."

"I mean it! Don't think you can sweet-talk, over-talk or use any type of authority to get him," now she dragged him towards the door, "when you obviously have no clue how to handle kids. Until I see some kind of a change, you come in here again and, wounded leg or not, I will go medieval on your butt. Capisce?"

Illya grimaced then nodded slightly, his ear still caught.

"Good. Now, out!" With that, she pushed him out the door again, waited until it was closed, then walked over and knelt to look at the still wide-eyed boy, but now she was smiling.

"The bad man's gone for now," she told him, reaching only partly in. "Come on. I'm Celeste. I'll take care of you until he gets your parents back."

At those words, the kid moved forward, then launched himself at her and latched onto her neck. Celeste smiled and returned to her seat, then new addition watching her as she worked and explained how to arrange the documents before having him help out.

Napoleon's mission was apparently easy but would take a few days, meaning he couldn't help. After what had happened to the two gossiping secretaries, very few of them were willing to go near Celeste while she was in her bad mood. Telling Waverly about it would be just admitting that he couldn't take care of the situation himself.

That left finding Elaine and hoping she was in a good mood after what happened this morning, and if she was, then hoping she could convince Celeste to forgive him for a few minutes so he could try and talk to the child.

Illya sighed as he made his way back to Translations. His only real experience with a child was the one from the "Four-Steps Affair", the young man really who wasn't so much a child as a reincarnated adult, at the time ten, who had disregarded an order of his and nearly got himself killed. Illya had been angry with him and later apologized by getting him a box of American bubble-gum, along with making sure he was protected.

But that boy had been more a man then a boy. This one was a scared child who didn't speak, at least not to Illya, and who was the only lead to finding his parents. Celeste having him was good, but not good enough.

As he walked up, he heard Elaine's voice speaking to the others.

"Okay," she said in a voice that sounded like she was making a speech, or coming to the end of one, "so I did get caught reading something dirty at my desk - not too bright, I know - and then I had to read it out loud to him. But let me ask this - would any of you Barbies have the rocks to do something like that and survive? I don't think so."

A few mutterings aside, Illya walked in to see that Elaine was once more not paying attention to who was entering, and was addressing a few of the more conspiring and gossiping women within the UNCLE confines.

"And you know what else, ladies?" Elaine continued, "I'm human, but at least I'm willing to do something about it instead of just giggle and preen and worry about my hairdo. Get the hell over yourselves, and go back to work." As the girls dispersed sullenly and Elaine looked back down, he heard her mutter, "Jesus H. Christ, what a bunch of airheads..."

"So I gather," he said softly, catching her attention as she looked up suddenly. "I'm amazed at how you handled the situation."

"You mean the one you helped me get into?" Elaine gave him a wave of her hand to dismiss it. "I should've known better, it's true. Considering I had a higher-up tell me more then once how he'd let me get through sleeping at my desk but only if productive, I should've expected it. Plus, Napoleon pointed out Waverly would've had my head on a stick for it, so I guess I should be thankful it was someone I know slightly well and not the big-man himself. But that brings up what you're doing here and why you look like you've had one bad day."

Illya let out a snort. "I've had 'bad days'. This one is worse."

"Oh...I know those. Had quite a few myself, but, well..."

"It's about Celeste."

"About what she did to those two secretaries? I heard and while I'm grateful--."

Illya shook his head. "No, no, it's about my case. I had to extract a family, and instead I only found the child. Of the parents, I have no idea, but his name is Fredrick. I must have scared him, because the first chance he got, he disappeared on me and reappeared where Celeste was working. When I tried to get him, she accused me of scaring the child and threw me out."

Elaine tilted her head then shrugged. "And...I guess she must've had a point on it."

"She's mad at me for what happened to you today, that's no point!"

Elaine blinked, then shook her head. "Illya, as much as we're alike, I guess you're dense in this. Celeste doesn't stay mad at people unless they give her a good reason to. You did something that a supervisor should, but she was just mad because of what happened and the damage control we had to do...plus those girls weren't helpful, so you caught her at a bad time. But with kids...well..."

"Well what?"

"I've seen Celeste with kids. Kids adopt her. Celeste adopts the kids. They have fun and at the end of the day they want to keep her like a stray puppy. If the kids are stray, Celeste wants to keep them herself as well. Me, kids like but I have no clue how to handle them."

Illya nodded. "Then we're in the same boat, to a degree. I've had...few experiences, with children of Fredrick's age."

"Which is?"

"Five."

Elaine paused, considering it, and finally patted him on the shoulder. "You're on your own. Like I said, kids like me but I'm scared of them."

Illya looked over at her then asked, "Any ideas then?"

"Ask for her help on the kid's point while you do the footwork on everything else. Tell Waverly that you're not sure how well that kid, Fred, has reacted to everything and he seemed attached to Celeste so you left him with her until you have more information or need his help. When you go back in, offer him something nice, like a lollypop or something like that. Talk softly and don't get angry. But ask Celeste first what she's found out."

"That's it?"

"What can I say? It's either that or kidnap the kid from Celeste, and if you do...name someone else as your accomplice, because I'm not touching that one."

Illya nodded. "I will blame Napoleon then."

Elaine snorted. "Fine someone plausible first, and that takes off me and Napoleon." She finally gave him a smile as he got up. "You'll figure it out, Illya. Who knows? Maybe the kid will adopt you."

Illya made a small face at the thought as he left to speak to Mr. Waverly about his situation and hope that good luck was waiting for him somewhere in this mission.