"Hi, Napoleon! Come on in; Rosie and the girls are in the kitchen," Lamont said as he shook the CEA's hand and opened the front door wide. "I thought Illya was coming to pick up Leona. Is he okay?"

Napoleon walked past the large Section III agent who doubled as Leona Nicole's father figure when he and Illya were on assignment. "Illya's fine, but he had to head straight to HQ. Apparently one of his experiments reached a critical point and he has to go do something to it. Hi, Hildy!"*

The Harlequin Great Dane bounded out of the kitchen and leaned against his legs, happily wagging her tail. "Oof! I'm glad to see you, too, Hildy, but don't knock me down!" He rubbed her head and went around her into the kitchen. Rosie, Paige and Leona were all seated at the table and Rosie was putting polish on Paige's fingernails. "Hello, Ladies."

The five year old smiled and went to hug her father. "Daddy! Aunt Rosie gave Paige and me manicures, but she won't put any polish on my nails unless you say it's okay."

"Oh, I'm not falling for that again! If Papa thinks it's all right, then Aunt Rosie can paint your nails."**

Rosie laughed, "I know that's right! Here." She painted Paige's last nail, closed the bottle and handed it to Napoleon. "Show him the color and if he likes it, I'll paint Leona's nails the next time she's hear."

Napoleon wasn't expecting Illya home before nine, so when he and Leona arrived home at seven, he told her to change into her pajamas while he prepared dinner. In twenty minutes he had spaghetti alla olio and a tossed salad on the table.

"This looks really good, Daddy," she said as he tied a bib around her neck, "Are you going to ask Papa if Aunt Rosie can do my nails?"

"Yes, and he'll let you know what's been decided tomorrow. And thank you for the compliment on the food. Now eat your dinner, My Sweet."

Leona was fast asleep by the time Illya got home. Napoleon reheated the pasta while the Russian changed and went in to kiss their daughter. As Illya ate, Napoleon sipped scotch as he read over mission reports. After Illya inhaled his last forkful of spaghetti, Napoleon reached into his pants pocket and placed the bottle of pink nail polish in front of him. His partner picked it up and looked askance at him.

"I learned my lesson last year. Rosie put that color on Paige and Leona wants it, too. Since I have no desire to vanish, we leave it to you to decide."

Illya teased, "Who are those people who say you are too old to learn anything? How did it look on Paige?"

"It's such a pale shade of pink, you can barely see it. I think it's fine, but like I said…"

"It is my decision. I think it is fine, too."

"Great. You tell her, I think it will mean a lot coming from you."

Illya went to the sink and began to wash the dishes. Suddenly, he groaned. "One day, sooner than we think, she is going to come to us asking permission to wear make – up."

Napoleon grinned. "My sister asked for permission when she was seventeen."

"Oh, that is not too bad."

"No, but she started wearing make – up when she was thirteen. She would put it on and take it off at school."

"Something else to worry about; I am glad we both own guns."

*ref. my tale "Hildy"

**ref. my tale "Piercings"