The Protectors Affair

by Batwoman

Harry sat silent, replaying the events from the party over again in his mind. He began wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. There’s no way that man could be in the same room as he again. No, he told himself, it wasn’t him.

Title: the Protectors Affair

Author: Batwoman

Rating: K

Spoilers: none

Archived: always welcome

Author's note: This is unbetaed so any and all mistakes are my own fault. This is completely A/U all around.

I ask that it not be archived anywhere right now for personal reasons. I may post this other places but I'd rather keep that under control.

oooooooooo

Harry stared at the face of the blond man across the room, 'It couldn't be' he thought. Not wanting to take chances he turned and walked in the opposite direction in search of the Contessa. They were here to protect President Mugobee and his family. He didn't have time to deal with ghosts from his past.

"Miss me," he said wrapping an arm around Caroline's waist.

She glanced at him briefly before turning her attention back to the party. Concerned she turned to face him and said, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah fine, how are things going?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"It's nothing. You never answered my question."

"Harry…"

"Caroline… please, let's get back to the job."

She eyed him closely worried about her friend, "Alright then. The president said they were going to leave soon."

"Good, have you checked in with Paul?"

"Yes and all is well."

"Good. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

Later that night as the Mugobee family slept Paul kept guard while the Contessa and Harry talked at his apartment. They sat on the couch enjoying a leisurely drink. Harry sat silent, replaying the events from the party over again in his mind. He began wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. There's no way that man could be in the same room as he again. No, he told himself, it wasn't him.

"Do you want to talk about it," Caroline asked.

He looked at her trying to decide if he should tell her or just keep his mouth shut. Deciding on the latter he simply said "no."

The pair sat silent for long moments until Caroline decided to leave her friend alone with his thoughts. Saying her goodbyes she left with plans to meet with him first thing in the morning. Harry remained on the couch still lost in thought an hour later when the mystery man picked the lock and quietly walked in. "No alarm system? You've gotten sloppy," he said walking toward the couch.

Harry turned to face his uninvited guest, gun aimed at his head. "So that was you. What are you doing here," he asked gun still aimed.

The blond eyed him closely wondering if the gun aimed at him was really a threat or not. Being naturally paranoid he decided to not take chances, remembering how good the brunet's aim was. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"You're in aren't you," he said sarcastically. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," the blond replied.

Harry eyed him irritated; the blond always did have a tendency of being annoying. "Working," he finally answered.

"Well that's what I'm doing too," the blond replied.

"Working?"

"Working."

The men continued to stare each other down, neither wanting to back down. Finally getting tired of the game the blond said, "Will you put that gun away already?"

"Why should I? We aren't exactly on the same side anymore," Harry replied.

"It's not like I had a choice. I was recalled to the Soviet Union, I couldn't say no."

"Maybe not but we could have figured something out."

"Napoleon, Mr. Waverly called in all his favors and pulled as many strings as humanly possible, there was nothing that could be done," Illya replied.

"Fine there was nothing that could be done," Napoleon sardonically said. "What are you doing here?"

"Defecting," Illya replied.

Napoleon wasn't sure he heard his old friend correctly, "Defecting," he asked.

"Yes defecting." At Napoleon's questioning look Illya continued. "I never wanted to go back but I had no choice. I did my job like a good little communist. But when I heard about what happened to Victoria and Becky, I couldn't stand it any longer. They were killed as a sick joke by certain KGB officials. Before you ask, I didn't know about it until after it happened. That's when I decided it was time to get out of that game."

The gun never wavering Napoleon said, "What's taken so long then? Why did you wait all these years to defect when you claim you wanted to after I lost Vickie and Becky?"

"I had to lie low. Had I defected then they would have killed me on the spot. I had to lull them into a sense of false security no matter how long it took. They didn't trust me. I waited and planned and waited some more. When the time was right I contacted Mr. Waverly for help." Sighing in frustration he said, "Look I'm taking a big risk coming here. They may have lengthened the leash but they still keep an eye on me when I leave the country."

"If that's true, then why are you here?"

"I was sent to kill President Mugobee, that's why I went to the party. I heard you and your friends were hired to protect him and his family. I don't want to do it; I want your help in preventing that."

"What about your defection?"

"I don't know when that'll be. Mr. Waverly agreed it would be better if I not know details in case something goes wrong. All I know is it's going to take place on this trip, that's why I brought my wife along."

Napoleon mulled over what his old partner had just said. They were as close as brothers once but things changed when he was sent back home. Or had it? Why would their friendship end just because they no longer worked on the same side? Did their friendship really end when Illya went back or when he lost his wife and daughter? He knew it was the KGB that killed them. He continued to work for U.N.C.L.E. for some time in an act of defiance.

Unable to stomach it any longer he left intelligence, America and his old life. Taking up a new identity he settled into London and ultimately found himself involved with the Protectors. Eventually he fell in love again and married. He loved his wife and was on cloud nine when they had a baby. He now had a chance at living the happy life he missed out on when his first wife and their little girl were killed. She couldn't take it though, and left him taking their son with. He'd seen them once since then when she begged him for help. When he rescued them he put them on a plane to New York to stay safe.

Finally deciding to trust his old friend he relaxed and waved Illya to the couch with the gun. Illya spotted a framed photo on the table as he walked to the couch. The little blond boy intrigued him, deciding not to ask about it he merely sat down.

"Who is Waverly sending to get you," Napoleon asked.

"A new team, April Dancer and Mark Slate. That's all I know."

Napoleon nodded thoughtfully, "So what did you have in mind for Mugobee?"

Early the next day Harry met with Paul and the Contessa to go over what he and Illya had planned the night before. Trusting his friends implicitly he also told them of his former partner's plans to defect just in case.

"Are you sure you can trust him," Paul asked.

"With my life," Harry replied without thinking.

Caroline listened to everything Harry said, so that explained his behavior last night, she thought. Despite everything Harry told them she had a feeling he left information out. She made a mental note to talk to him about it later.

"So how does Illya plan on killing him," Paul asked.

"Sniper," Harry replied. "Normally he'd go for a head shot, but for our purposes he'll aim for the heart."

Paul mulled it over they could do this, they have before. They would need to work quickly to find someone in their network but they could pull this off. "So when does this take place," he asked.

"Tomorrow night," Harry replied.

"That doesn't leave us with much time. Alright, I'll find someone to replace the president and get them here right away," Caroline said rushing out the door.

"Good, I'll make sure our replacement has everything he needs," Paul replied.

"Good."

Harry and Paul spent the next hour or so planning. When finished Harry went to his office to check in with Caroline. Caroline explained her plans for a replacement for the president; Harry agreed with her decision. Before he had a chance to rush out Caroline stopped him. "Harry what happened between you and your friend?"

Harry stood silent dreading the question he knew his friend would ask. If he could he wouldn't tell anyone outside of U.N.C.L.E. about his past. When he left the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement he put that life behind him. Seeing his wife and child brutally slain in front of him pushed him to the edge. He became driven to a point he never thought he would be. Unable to touch those responsible for their deaths he left. Napoleon Solo disappeared that night and months later Harry Rule stepped out onto a London street.

"It's a long story," he finally replied.

"We have time," she began.

"Too long to get into now," he said. "Caroline, I need to relieve Paul. This isn't the time to get into my past." Not wanting to give her a chance to ask anything else Harry turned on his heel and walked out the door.

Caroline sat in the chair concerned over her friend's sudden short behavior. It was unlike him to be tight lipped about what was bothering him. She made a mental note to talk to him later, hoping he'll open up then.

Later that day Harry stood in his apartment preparing to do something he never thought he'd do, transform back to Napoleon Solo. Suki looked on to the closed bedroom door; she began to worry about him. Harry was unusually quiet when he came home and now he locked himself in his room. Something was bothering her boss that was sure, but what? She wasn't home when Illya paid him a visit two nights ago. What could be wrong, she wondered.

Napoleon waited until nightfall before leaving. He checked the street for any unwelcome guests. Finding the street empty he made his way to the hotel Illya was staying at. Not trusting anyone he made double sure he wasn't being followed. Deciding not to take any chances, he utilized evasion pattern eight.

Finally reaching the hotel Napoleon slithered through the backdoor making sure to cling to the shadows. He made his way to the stairs where he climbed them to the 5th floor. Napoleon carefully made his way down the hall to room 504. He stood outside and knocked three times quickly, paused and knocked two more times. It was an old code he and Illya used when they were partners years ago.

Illya walked to the door looking through the peephole before asking who was there. Taking a deep claming breath he opened the door and motioned for Napoleon to enter. "It's clean," the Russian said at Napoleon's silence.

"Good," he replied.

"They repeatedly bug me and I always remove and destroy them. That's one thing I won't tolerate and have been "spoken" to about several times," Illya said.

"They don't get suspicious?"

"As I said, they've "spoken" to me about it several times."

Napoleon nodded his understanding; it seemed life for his friend wasn't as easy as he may have thought. "So any word from Waverly or his team," he asked taking a seat on the couch.

"Not a word," Illya replied sitting on the chair next to the couch.

Napoleon briefly wondered if he might be able to dig up any information. He quickly banished the idea not wanting to get back involved with U.N.C.L.E. "How are the plans coming along," Illya asked.

"Coming along great," Napoleon said. "I trust your aim is still spot on."

"Of course," Illya replied.

"That's what I was hoping for."

"Illusha," the men turned toward the bedroom door at the sound of the voice. "I'm sorry I don't mean to interrupt. But could you order a sandwich," she asked in Russian.

"Come here Anya, I want to introduce you to someone," he said in Russian.

"Anya, this is my friend," he began looking at Napoleon not sure what to call him.

"Harry Rule," Napoleon provided.

Illya nodded understanding and replied, "Harry this is my wife Anya."

"You're very pregnant wife I see," Harry said amused.

Illya smiled as his wife blushed, "Nice to meet you," she said with a thick Russian accent.

Illya wrapped his arm around her waist and said switching back to Russian, "Now what was it you were saying about wanting more food?"

"This baby of yours is hungry again," she said rubbing her hand over her growing belly.

"That's what you keep saying. When are you going to admit you're hungry," he teased.

"Never," she replied eyes twinkling. "Now are you going to order that sandwich for me or do I have to do it myself?"

"I'll do it, would you like anything else?"

"A glass of milk," she replied. "I'll let you get back to your friend here," she said placing a kiss on his cheek.

"It was nice meeting you Anya," Napoleon said as she turned to leave.

She turned and smiled as she walked back to the bedroom. Illya allowed himself a moment to enjoy the moment with his wife. "She seems nice," Napoleon said amused at the goofy smile on his friend's face.

"The best," he said finally returning his attention to his friend. "Now you know why this trip is so important to me. I don't want my baby growing up like Anya and I did. I want it to be free."

Napoleon nodded solemnly, he understood Illya's need to leave the Soviet Union now more so than ever. Though Illya didn't speak of his past much, what little he did speak of it hurt Napoleon to hear. "Does Waverly know about the baby?"

"Yes, I didn't want to take any chances." Switching back to business he said, "What's the plan?"

"We've switched the president with one of our men. The president's family will continue to travel with him as usual. Our man will wear a bullet proof vest with a cackle bladder. Aim for the heart and the packet will explode, making it look like he's hit. He'll go down and we'll take him to the morgue. If his family is with him, we'll ferret them away, eventually take them to the safe house the president is hold up."

Illya nodded, "Sounds like a good plan."

"You better order that sandwich before she comes back out here," Napoleon said before Illya had a chance to say more.

"Hm? Oh yes, thanks for reminding me," he replied walking to the phone.

After the phone call was made Illya walked back to chair. "I noticed that picture on your table, who's the little boy?"

Napoleon glared at Illya annoyed. He was hoping Illya wouldn't notice the picture. Sighing in defeat he replied, "My son."

Illya was intrigued. He had to admit he hadn't kept close tabs on his friend since he was recalled to the motherland. Though he knew of Napoleon's departure from U.N.C.L.E. and his subsequent change of identity, it seems he missed any information on Harry's son.

"I remarried and we had a son. Laura couldn't handle the stress of my line of work and left with the baby,"

"I'm sorry," Illya quietly said. "Have you seen them since?"

"A couple times. Once when they were held prisoner. The last time was when Laura and Johnny left for New York."

"New York? Have you talked to Waverly?"

"No, that part of my life died along with the girls."

"Are you sure, because it doesn't look that way to me. Tell me something Napoleon, why did you move to London, change your name and then go into basically the same type of work you did before?"

Before Napoleon had a chance to answer there was a knock at the door. Illya walked to the door and paused looking towards Napoleon. Not wanting to take any chances, Napoleon hid in the bathroom. "Who is it," he heard Illya ask. Napoleon tried to concentrate on the conversation but his mind ran wild. Illya's words hit home, why did he leave the world of espionage to go into the private sector? Why not leave and become a salesman or something else? Why did he stay in the same line of work?

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the all clear from his old partner. Taking a deep breath he walked out of the bathroom. He took in the sight before him, a loving couple enjoying a quiet moment together before their baby comes. Not wanting to intrude any longer he said his goodbyes and made his way back to his apartment.

The next day Harry spent the morning preparing for the evening's activities, alone. Illya's words the previous night still resonated in his mind. Unable to face his friends, he spent the day alone with his thoughts.

That night as Illya prepared to assassinate the president April Dancer and Mark Slate made their move. Using the prearranged code they went to Illya's suite. "Take my wife first, I'll come after I take care of something," he told the agents.

"I won't go without you Illya," Anya said in Russian.

Illya turned to his wife and placed his hands on her arms, rubbing them in a soothing manor, "Don't worry, I'll be alright. Just go with Mark and April and I'll join you later." At her look of protest he added "Please."

She couldn't help but worry, they both knew it was dangerous enough that he was defecting, but to bring his wife along in his quest for asylum was pushing it. Sensing their need for privacy, April motioned for Mark to follow her into the bedroom.

Anya looked deep into her husband's eyes and said "Please be careful."

"I will," he promised.

She threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life, "I can't lose you," she whispered.

Illya held his wife for what he hoped would not be the last time. He was counting on Napoleon and his friends to help this assassination to go off without a hitch. He finally pulled back and brushed the tear streaming down her cheek. "I love you," he whispered as he kissed her.

"I love you too," she replied.

Elsewhere Harry met up with Paul and the Contessa. He and Paul kept a close eye on the buildings around them. Illya hadn't revealed anything about his plans for the assassination, but Harry knew him well enough to not need any information.

Spotting something move along the shadows on the roof of the building across the street from the embassy, Paul motioned to Harry. Harry looked up and for the briefest of seconds; he spotted a patch of blond hair in the moonlight. Harry nodded to Paul to be ready.

As he assembled the sniper rifle he brought along Illya kept a close eye on his surroundings. He couldn't remember the last time his nerves were on edge this bad. He took a deep cleansing breath; right now he needed a clear head and steady hands. The Russian looked over the edge of the building, taking aim with the rifle. The wait for the president was short lived.

President Mugobee walked out of the embassy with his wife on his arm. Illya took aim and fired a clear shot to the heart. He ducked down to avoid being seen as the people below scrambled to the president's aid. Harry and Paul made a show of looking for the assassin just in case anyone was watching. After the late president was taken to the morgue and his widow back to the hotel, Harry and Paul stepped into the shadows. They clung to the shadows as they made their way to the building Illya was hiding out in. Harry wanted to make sure nothing happened to Illya or Anya as they were whisked away to the US. Not trusting this U.N.C.L.E. team he enlisted Paul's aid. Together they snuck into the darkened building and made their way to Illya's hideout.

Mark and April waited until the street had once again become quiet before making their move. They loaded a nondescript van with the Kuryakins' luggage and Anya. Mark parked the van behind the Illya's make shift hideout. He went in to retrieve Illya as April stayed behind to make sure nothing happened to Anya.

Mark walked into the dark basement and found Illya sitting close to the boiler. "Any problems," Illya asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Mark replied. "Are you ready?"

"Not so fast," came a voice from the shadows. Mark whipped out his gun and pointed it at Harry as he stepped forward. Harry sized Mark up wondering if he really was as good as Waverly thinks. He knew Mr. Waverly would only send his best team for an extraction this delicate, but his faith in the old man and the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement had wavered when he lost his family. "I'm coming with."

"And who are you," Mark asked special still pointed at Harry.

Harry thought it over a moment. He was conflicted as to what he was going to say. If he said Napoleon Solo then he'd have more questions than he cared to answer from Paul. Before he had a chance to answer Illya spoke, "A friend."

Mark eyed the men not sure what to make of the situation. He didn't know either from Adam yet he was charged with making sure the blond safely arrived in America. "You can stand here assessing the situation all night long, but I'd rather get out of here ASAP. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it will be," Harry said, annoyed.

Mark nodded reluctantly and led the way to the van. Once the men were out of the basement Paul stepped out of the shadows and sat in his car waiting. He switched on the receiver and watched as Harry's tracking device moved away. Deciding the van had a far enough lead he began to follow.

Napoleon kept a close eye on the U.N.C.L.E. team. He wanted to be sure Illya and Anya made it to America safely, even if that meant going all the way there himself. He didn't trust this team. He didn't trust the safety of his friend with anyone but himself. He spared a glance at the couple in the back and mentally smiled. They sat next to each other, his arm wrapped around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. She was scared, that was clear to see. Illya comforted her hoping to ease her nerves. He felt eyes on him and looked up to find Harry watching them. Harry looked away suddenly feeling as if he was intruding on an intimate moment. Illya caught the pain that flashed across his face for a split second.

The van pulled up to a secluded airstrip where a plane sat waiting. "Where do you think you're going Harry," Mark asked as Harry followed the group to the plane.

"I already told you, I'm coming with," he said.

"Not so fast mate, we're only taking those two to the states," Mark said nodding towards the Russians.

"You may be Waverly's golden boy but I don't trust anyone with the life of my partner but myself. I'm going with," Napoleon said.

Mark glared at the brunet he didn't like his attitude. "We're capable of taking care of them ourselves. Mr. Waverly wouldn't have sent us if he didn't think we were." April said.

As the agents stood next to the plane arguing Paul pulled up. Without turning to look Harry asked, "Any problems?"

"No," Paul replied.

Mark and April stood silent shocked that they were followed. "You were saying something about being capable of transporting Illya to the states on your own," Napoleon said.

The partners fumed at the situation, they were getting tired of this. "Fine," Mark growled. After a quick trip to the car for his bag Harry boarded the plane.

The flight to the US was strained; the U.N.C.L.E. team did their best to avoid conversation with the former men from U.N.C.L.E. while the former agents sat in quiet conversation. "You didn't have to come this far Harry," Illya said.

"I'm not exactly a big fan of Waverly or his lackeys. I've lost more than enough; I'd rather not lose anymore."

Illya nodded he was glad to hear their earlier strained reunion wasn't still a problem. "Did you ever have any suspicions about the girls' safety," he asked.

"Yes. I asked Waverly to let me assign a couple agents to keep an eye on them but he said I was being paranoid. He denied my request and…."

"…I'm sorry," Illya quietly said.

"Before Vickie died I sat with her in the hospital. The day of Becky's funeral Waverly came by the hospital to apologize," he said in a distant voice.

"At least he apologized," Illya offered.

Napoleon snorted with derision, "too little too late." Napoleon took a deep cleansing breath; he didn't think the memories would be this strong. "I miss Laura," he sighed.

Anya walked past the men on her way back to her seat when she changed course. She sat next to Napoleon and placed a comforting hand on his back. "Why don't you go see her when we get to New York," she said.

"She wasn't exactly happy to see me the last time we were in the same room," he replied.

"Harry she's your wife, go see her," Anya said. "You still love her don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then you should go see her," she insisted.

Harry glanced at Illya, "It can't hurt," Illya commented.

Harry sighed in defeat, "Alright I'll go see her. Happy?"

"Yes," the Russians said in unison, smiling.

When the plane landed in New York an unmarked van was waiting for the group. Mark and April watched as Harry climbed into the back of the van. They contemplated saying something but knew it was useless. The mystery man was going to do whatever he wanted, regardless of what they had to say.

The ride to U.N.C.L.E. headquarters was uneventful, Napoleon dreading the visit while Illya looked forward to his last visit to the old place. As they walked through the entrance Napoleon began to rethink his decision to come this far. The last thing he wanted to do was see or talk to his old boss. He couldn't forgive the old man for the way he brushed off Napoleon's concerns resulting in the death of his first wife and little girl.

Mara the receptionist was surprised to see Napoleon with the group. Though she hadn't been with U.N.C.L.E. long when Napoleon left, she had heard of his decision to leave. Seeing him walk through the door wasn't something she ever though she'd see again. She reached into the drawer and pulled out a set of badges. She pinned a yellow number 11 on Napoleon then handed a yellow number 2 to Illya.

Mark and April were shocked as they watched Mara pin a yellow badge onto Harry's jacket. Once all badges were pinned April stayed back to talk to Mara. She waited until the doors hissed shut behind the group before she leaned onto the desk, "So tell me, was Harry an agent?"

Mara looked at her confused, "Harry?"

"Yes Harry, the man you just pinned a badge onto."

"That man was Napoleon Solo, Illya's partner," Mara explained.

"You don't say," April said seething.

Before reaching Mr. Waverly's office Illya pulled Napoleon aside. "Would you do me a favor and take Anya to infirmary? I'd like her to be looked at by a doctor before we leave."

"Sure thing buddy," he replied. "Come on dear, I'll give you all the gory little details about Illya that he never told you," he said offering his arm.

Placing her hand in the crook of his arm she replied, "I can't wait."

April stormed the halls of U.N.C.L.E. HQ on her way to records. She wanted to find out all she could on this Napoleon Solo and decided to start with his file. She didn't like being lied to like she had and she was about to find out why. Finding Martha in the records she asked for any files pertaining to him.

Martha disappeared in the bowels of file cabinets for what seemed like a few minutes, only to come back empty handed. "Sorry April, I don't have any files on him."

"What do you mean you don't have anything on him? He was an agent before I joined."

"I know, but for some reason any mention of Napoleon is gone. Sorry," she shrugged.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Not much sorry. I was here before he left but I didn't work with him and barely talked to him."

A seething April thanked Martha before turning on her heel to leave. She stalked the halls looking for any information on the mysterious Napoleon Solo. She found it increasingly difficult to gather any smidge of information on a former agent. April was beginning to think Alexander Waverly was to blame. Getting fed up with the hunt for information, she went on another search, one for her partner.

Harry and Anya were in the commissary enjoying a cup of tea while waiting for Illya when April walked in. She walked up behind Harry and said, "Enjoying the coffee Harry? Or should I say Napoleon?" Harry's smile faded as she continued, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Without turning to face the U.N.C.L.E. agent he said "That was on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know. Besides, Napoleon Solo is dead."

"And yet you're sitting in U.N.CL.E. HQ with his badge," she snapped.

"You don't say. Listen kid; don't waste any more of your time trying to find out about Napoleon Solo. Now if you'll excuse us, Anya and I are having a private conversation," Harry said returning his full attention to Anya.

April stood shocked at the way Harry had treated her. As she stood seething her communicator warbled. She quickly assembled her communicator and replied, "Dancer here."

"Would you come to my office right away Ms Dancer," Waverly said.

"On my way sir," she said. April reassembled her communicator as she stormed out of the commissary.

When April walked into Mr. Waverly's office she found her partner sitting in a chair next to the old man. "Have a seat," Waverly said.

April took the chair next to Mark glancing at him questioningly. He gave her a slight shrug not knowing why they had been called to his office. They couldn't imagine being sent out on another assignment so soon after returning from a defection. "It has come to my attention that several inquiries have been made regarding Mr. Solo. I want all inquires to stop immediately. As far as you are concerned, Napoleon Solo is dead." He looked sternly at both before dismissing them.

Illya had joined Harry and Anya in the commissary when he finished with Mr. Waverly. "So where are you going to live," Harry asked Illya.

"I was thinking the Midwest," he replied.

"What do you think Anya?"

"This is my first time in America," she shrugged. "I trust Illya's choice."

"Apparently she doesn't know you very well," Harry teased.

"She apparently knows me better than she does you," Illya playfully shot back placing his hand on her belly.

Anya shook her head at the men wondering if they were always like this. "Mr. Waverly is letting us stay in an U.N.C.L.E. apartment until we're settled."

"Since when is he that generous?"

"It's not like him I know, but it will help. How did things go in infirmary," Illya asked.

"She was given a clean bill of health," Harry replied.

"Good. What about you? What are you going to do now that we're safe and sound," Illya asked

"I don't know."

"Why don't you go see Laura," Anya asked.

"I don't know," he quietly replied.

Sensing Harry's need for privacy Illya said, "Well while you're thinking about it why don't we get out of here," while rising from his seat.

The trio stepped onto the sidewalk outside of headquarters. Anya snaked her arm around Illya's as they walked down the street in their new freedom. "Why don't you come over for dinner," Illya said.

"Please do it's been nice getting to know you Harry."

Harry smiled, "I get the feeling you won't let me say no. Ok I'll bring the wine."

The Kuryakins made their way to their temporary home while Harry went for a walk. His mind swam with thoughts of his wife and son. He knew where they were staying, he could go see them. He wanted to see them but Laura didn't want anything to do with him. He missed them.

Harry sighed; thinking about his family was gnawing at him. He needed to squelch the thoughts. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and lost himself in the afternoon crowds of New York's streets.

Later that day Harry walked up the stairs of the apartment building. There was a part of him that was beginning to rethink this. As he stood outside the apartment he prepared himself for what he was about to endure. When ready he knocked on the door and waited. When the door slowly opened he stood motionless unable to think.

fin