The 'Bad Timing' Affair

The only noises in the dim room were creaking that went more or less in sync with the grunts and groans from the two men. The relative silence was broken by a softly spoken request.

"Illya? Could we talk?"

The blue eyes snapped open and looked down at Napoleon incredulously through his sweat dampened bangs.

"Now?!"

"Yes now. I know the timing is bad, but truthfully? If I have to hold this position for one more minute, I'm going to cramp up and that wouldn't be good for either of us."

Groaning, the Russian relaxed down and then leaned to rest his damp head briefly on his partner's shoulder.

"Bad timing is a spectacular understatement. I was almost there, you know."

"I know, I know. Sorry. Guess after everything else we've been through today, my stamina's not quite up to par."

"Well, nothing to be done for it now. We can try again in a few minutes. I know I will regret asking this, but what did you want to talk about?"

"Us really. Ever tried to figure out why it is that we're so good together?"

"Part of it is your overwhelming modesty."

"Ha ha. Illya, I'm trying to be serious."

"I know that. I just cannot figure out... why?"

"Ah. Fair question. Someday it seems that I'm going to be the one charged with pairing up teams. If I could figure out what makes the two of us successful, maybe I could use it as a guideline."

"I think you may be trying to catch the lightning in a bottle. But why not? Well... I would suppose that part of it is that our talents lie in different areas. I can fill in your gaps as you fill in mine."

"Uhmmm... no. I mean, I'm sure that helps, but you weren't my first partner. And nothing against them or the way they operated, but it wasn't the same. I mean, they and I worked well enough together, but it just didn't... flow the way we do together. The way we seem to have a feeling for when the other is in trouble or the way that we can sometimes..."

"Finish each other's sentences? Sorry. I could not resist."

Illya let out a puff of air to blow his bangs out of in front of his eyes as he relifted his head.

"I cannot explain what you and I have, Napoleon. I fought it at first. Getting close to someone else has never ended well for me. But with you? It was almost as if a piece of me that was always missing before had never really been missing at all. It was just waiting for me to find it where you were. And... that sounded incredibly trite."

"No. Not trite. It felt sort of the same for me, but... it's incredibly hard to put into words for me. And I apologize for asking you to try and put words to something that I can't find words for either."

"No need. As far as when you put teams together yourself, my advice would be for you to use your greatest commodity."

"Which is?"

"That 'Solo luck'. Which I think is basically some of the best honed instincts that I have ever witnessed. Of course look at their records and their training, but then look at them and trust your instincts as to whether or not they would be good together. But in the end, it will all depend on whether or not two individuals are able to give up part of themselves to merge into a team."

"You know? I think that might be the best advice I've had on that."

"Oh good. I am so glad that we have had this talk then."

"Don't be sarcastic, Illya. I think I'm ready to go for it again."

"That is good news. Much as I do like you, Napoleon, dangling face to face in chains is not my ideal way to spend time with you."

"Mine either. Try to pick the locks a little quicker this time? Bracing you up so that you can reach the cuffs is a killer."

"I will endeavor to free us with all due speed, tovarich. By the way, you owe me dinner after this."