Napoleon sifted through the numerous envelopes in his incoming mail. There were some that were work-related, but many were in bright red or green envelopes. He knew those were from his many women acquaintances, which had lasting memories of him. Sadly, it was not always the same for him. After a while, their faces all sort of blurred.
He set the mail down on his desk and glanced over at his partner. They'd only been together a few months, but when Napoleon discovered Illya could type, well, it was a match made in heaven as far as Napoleon was concerned.
Illya was still the new kid on the block. Women flocked to Illya, Napoleon supposed, because of his longish blond hair, blue eyes and lost puppy look he could flash instantly. That helpless look could be replaced by one of pure vitriol and determination if need be. That was usually when Angelique was in the room.
As opposed to Napoleon's healthy delivery of mail, Illya's was a few inter-office envelopes and a few official-looking pieces.
Napoleon rose and wandered over to Illya's desk. The top piece was a manila envelope with Science World stamped in the upper left hand corner.
"New magazine?" Napoleon admitted that was a pretty lame conversation starter, but unless they were talking work, Napoleon was still a bit at a loss of what to say to the agent.
"Contributor's copies probably, since my check came last week." Illya didn't look up from the report he was typing.
"I see." Napoleon was at a dead end with that topic, since he neither cared nor fully understood Illya's articles. It was too high brow science for him. He was versed enough to get through, but to him it was as strategy was to Illya – a necessary evil - and leave it at that. That was why they made such a good team. They each had a strength to play to.
"What is wrong, Napoleon?"
"You just seem so… quiet?"
"If you mean because I am not partaking of the American over-abundance of enthusiasm at the season, then, yes, I am quiet."
"You're not partaking? Illya, you make it sound like an entrée pushed aside in favor of another one."
"It is your holiday, not mine." Illya resumed typing.
"Partner, no matter what you say, you are in America now. It's your holiday as well."
Illya stopped and sighed. "I have work."
"You have drudgery. Have you even been out in the city?"
"Of course I have. I live here."
"No, I mean to downtown Manhattan or Rockefeller Square."
"I have had no business there."
Napoleon took Illya's trench coat from the coat rack and tossed it to him. "Yes, you do. In fact, I can't think of any business more pressing than this."
Illya caught the coat one-handed. "We are at work, Napoleon."
Even this was a step forward. A month ago, Illya would have quietly acquiesced without argument.
"Mr. Waverly put me in charge of your assimilation into American culture and this is a big part of it." Napoleon took his own jacket and shook out the wrinkles before putting it on.
"And afterwards, we can return to work? " Illya was frowned even as he tugged on his jacket.
"Scout's honor."
As they walked down the sidewalk, Napoleon noticed how Illya's focus seemed to drift from work topics to things more… seasonal.
As they approached Macy's, Illya looked first at the crowd and then back to Napoleon. "Trouble?"
"Of a very different sort. Why don't you go check it out? I'm going to go inside and pick up something I have on layaway."
Napoleon would come to regret speaking those words. He had managed to do his shopping and then some. He even telephoned and made plans with his aunt before returning to Illya's side and still the man was transfixed by the automated display.
He glanced at Napoleon as his partner returned and then back at the display. "This is incredible. Do they do this always?"
"Nope, just at Christmas, but Macy's isn't the only store who does this. Come on." Napoloen applied gentle pressure to Illya's elbow.
Reluctantly, Illya left his spot at the window and followed Napoleon. From there, they went to Gimbles, then Bloomingdale and even a stop at FAO Schwartz before ending up at the ice skating rink in front of Rockefeller Center. It even trumped the huge Christmas tree for Illya's attention.
Illya leaned over the concrete wall and stared. "Where did the skating rink come from?" Napoleon came to stand beside him, smiling at Illya's open-mouthed amazement.
"Well, it started as a mistake back in about 1936, I think. Now it's as much of a fixture of New York in the winter as the balloons are in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade." Napoleon elbowed Illya. "Do you skate?"
"I'd be a poor example of a Soviet if I did not."
"Last one on the ice is a THRUSH!"
Illya studied the restaurant and sighed happily. "This was the most extraordinary day, Napoleon. Thank you."
Napoleon finished signed his name to his Diners Clubs chit and handed back the paperwork to the waiter. Even the Russian Tea Room was decked out to the nines and Illya had simply bloomed within its walls. Able to speak Russian with the staff and navigate his way through familiar dishes, this was probably the best gift Napoleon could have given Illya and Napoleon made a mental note to spend at least one December night there from then on with his partner.
"Thank you again for an extraordinary day, Napoleon." Illya's voice was slightly blurred around the edges and tired. "I could have never imagined it."
"Better than typing a report?"
"Much better. And the report will be there tomorrow."
"That it will, my friend." The after -dinner drinks arrived, shimmering in the lights and Napoleon lifted one to Illya in a toast. "Let us raise our glasses to Ded Moroz and his granddaughter Snegurotchka! They never get old or sick and always have enough money for presents! May we be like them!"
"За нашу дружбу(To our friendship)!" Illya added and touched his glass to Napoleon's. "May we grow old together."
"And never forget the camaraderie we've shared today. Merry Christmas, Illya."
"And to you, my friend."