1990
"How interesting," Illya muttered to himself as he finished reading an article in the New York Times. He was sitting at the counter in Napoleon's kitchen.
"What's that?" Napoleon inquired as he took the dishes out of the dishwasher and put them away. It was Monday evening and Illya had come over for dinner. The former field partners still spent as much time together as possible, but it was nowhere near what it used to be. Napoleon was Number One, Section I and Illya was Number One, Section VIII, North America and as such, his work week was a lot shorter than Napoleon's. When Napoleon's conference call with the US President and the UK's Prime Minister was cancelled, he insisted on cooking dinner and Illya joining him.
"Well, according to this, an Arizona State Representative has introduced legislation that would end the production of the penny. He feels it's obsolete."
"Is that so?" Napoleon replied as he removed two glasses from another cabinet, handed one to the Russian before going to the fridge. He put ice in his glass and then pulled a full bottle of vodka from the freezer. "Let's head to the living room."
The two old friends moved to their favorite spots; Illya in the recliner and Napoleon on the couch with his scotch on the coffee table. They sipped their drinks quietly for a while, reveling in the comfortable silence that true friends can enjoy together.
"Getting back to that penny legislation," Napoleon said, "that might not be a bad thing. If I accumulate pennies during the day, if I don't put them in a candy dish in my bedroom, I'm tossing them into those donation jars you see at the cash registers. I never take my pennies to the bank, even they don't seem to want them anymore."
"Oh, I don't know, Napoleon. I remember really enjoying the sight of a new copper penny lying all by itself on the sidewalk. Remember how I would stop to pick them up?"*
"That probably contributed to your bad back now!"
"Hahaha. Seriously, Napoleon, sometimes I think the world is moving too fast. We as a society don't seem to treasure the tried and true, not coins, not organizations, not…"
"People?"
Illya sighed heavily. "Yes. Some of my staff came to my office last week asking if the rumors are true that UNCLE has been determined to have outlived its usefulness. They think that since we are former partners, I should have inside information. I didn't have the heart to tell them I don't ask you those kinds of questions. But the smartest of them realized there have been no new agents assigned to Section II or III in a year. They don't know the Survival School closed, they have noticed that retirees are not being replaced anywhere in HQ. When UNCLE does shutter its doors, and I am not asking you if it will or will not, a lot of people will be at sixes and sevens. The Berlin Wall fell last year. The way things are going, the Soviet Union itself will be obsolete in no more than three years."**
Napoleon took a draw of his scotch while looking over his glass at his partner. "Illya, let me tell you a few things that only I know."
"Napoleon! I do not expect you to tell me classified information!"
"I said I would tell you things that only I know, I never said it was classified. First of all, I want you to know that I know you so well that I know that even though you finally started using contractions years ago, that when you are upset, you stop. I also want you to know that I don't consider us to be 'former partners.' We are partners and that will never change which brings me to the last thing I want to tell you: You're not leaving me. UNCLE or no UNCLE, USSR or no USSR, we're friends, we're partners, we're brothers. Aunt Amy, God rest her soul, left me more money than the two of us could spend in several lifetimes. So, it doesn't matter, Partner Mine, if UNCLE and/or the USSR become obsolete. We will never be obsolete."
The Russian was so overcome with emotion, all he could do at first was put his glass down and stare. When the water standing in his eyes began to overflow, he swiped at it quickly. "I had dared to hope you felt that way, but to hear it out loud…" He stood and moved toward his friend.
Napoleon stood and met him halfway. They wrapped their arms around each other and, for a moment, just cried silently. After awhile, Napoleon patted Illya's back and they separated. "You know, Illya, that if UNCLE does go out of business, there won't be any pensions."
The blond had pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to blow his nose. "I invested very well so money is not going to be my problem. You are lucky Aunt Amy knew your money burned a hole in your pocket and invested accordingly. I'm lucky you won't be living off me, otherwise I'd be rethinking keeping you in my life."
"Whatever, Illya. I'm going to my room to get ready for bed and do some reading for my conference in the morning. You sleeping over?"
"Sure. Goodnight, Napoleon."
He was mildly surprised when Napoleon hugged him again and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Partner. See you in the morning."
Illya watched his best friend go down the hall to his bedroom before sitting back down in the recliner to finish his drink. "Blockhead," he muttered as he sipped, "I thank all I hold dear for you."