"Well, this is just lovely," Napoleon complained. New York City was suffering a blackout, and the two UNCLE agents sat in a hot, dark office, sweating profusely, with only a candle for light. "And with everything I had to get done today. How am I supposed to work by candlelight?"
Illya was silent. Napoleon knew that he was worried about his wife, who was eight and a half months pregnant.
"Trina will be fine, Illya," Napoleon said. "The telephones are still operational, so she will call you if she needs anything."
"She has been getting headaches lately," Illya told him. "I will be so happy when this is all over with."
In the dark the blond couldn't see his partner's smile. This type of thing was exactly why Napoleon had avoided serious romantic entanglements so far.