He spotted the sheet of paper sticking out from beneath the edge of Napoleon's desk blotter. It was very different than the usual sort of paper they used and immediately drew his eye. Of course, it didn't take much to pull his attention these days. Concentrating was more of an effort than it seemed to be worth and his emotions were on the proverbial roller coaster these days. He sat down heavily behind the desk and picked up the sheet of paper.
The paper was expensive and almost parchment in color. It was smooth and cool in his hands and for a moment it was almost more than he could bear to hold it. After a moment, he rallied his emotions and unfolded it, pressing it down smooth. His eyes started to read Napoleon's familiar scrawl.
My dearest Illya,
If you're reading this, then I must be dead. First let me say, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was the one to have the good fortune to die first. I know what seven kinds of grief you're going through. I would never have wished that on my worst enemy, much less you, old friend. I'm sorry I was the weak one and had to go first, but honestly, I fear that I lack your strength. To face life without you would be more than I care to think about.
As Waverly must have informed you by now, you're my executor and sole beneficiary. Again, my apologies for putting you through all the mess of tying up my loose ends. Whatever you decide to do with my things is fine, although if possible I would like to be buried with my ring, for reasons that are best unstated here. I'm sure you can appreciate my decision.
Rather than risk leaving unfinished business behind and running the chance of coming back as a ghost to haunt headquarters – now there's a visual for you. Imagine me with full run of headquarters; the women's showers would never be the same. I hope you smiled just then and shook your head thinking, "Oh Napoleon, you never change." You see my friend, that's where you're wrong and that's the unfinished business I was talking about. You see, I did change. I changed the morning you walked into Waverly's office and he announced we were to be partnered, but never once did I tell you that.
You probably didn't know this, but I fought the partnership at first. I'd been doing pretty well on my own and didn't like about being burdened with a greenhorn, especially one hauling around the reputation you were at the time. Stop frowning like that, Illya, or your face will freeze in that position. It's true I'd had my fill of your countrymen back in Korea, but Waverly knew what he was doing. Doesn't he always?
From the start, I found I could depend upon you, I knew that you were there to watch my back. I probably went out on this last assignment alone, didn't I? I'm stupid that way, but I'm guessing there was a good reason for it. You probably didn't know what it was, but there are…were lots of things that you didn't know about me, in spite of our closeness. We learn from an early age in this business to play our cards close to our chest.
Most of those secrets aren't particularly important now or, probably even then. But there was one I kept, that I guarded so sweetly that even now I'm reticent to share it with you. Never once, in all the years of our partnership, did I ever let you know just how I felt for you.
Oh the friendship, certainly, but it was more than that. Even now, it's hard to put my feelings into words, Illya. Love; it's so easy to bandy that word around. I said it to a dozen women a dozen times, but never meant it. To you, I never said it once and you were probably the only one in my life who deserved to hear it, for I did love you, deeply, passionately, and completely. It's just the stupid rules of our society that kept me from admitting it to you – fear of what others would think, the fear of being ostracized by those around us and the fear of what you might say if the truth were known. That was the worst of it all, that you might scoff or even come to hate me for what I saw as my greatest vulnerability and my greatest strength.
My love for you kept me going at times when I didn't think another step was possible. You made me laugh, you made me humble and you made me a better man. I hope I was able to repay at least part of that gift to you.
They say hindsight is 20/20 and perhaps that's true, but I don't know that I would, or even if I could, change what has passed. For what it's worth, it's been a helluva ride.
God speed and be safe, old friend,
It was unsigned.
Illya sat back and quickly folded up the sheet, tucking it back under the corner of the blotter while he still had a tentative handle on his emotions. He swallowed and thought about the words. All these years and Napoleon never once felt comfortable enough to tell him. Hell, all these years and he'd harbored the same feelings and the same fears.
The office door opened and a familiar head popped in. "Illya are you ready to… are you okay?"
"Yes, Napoleon, I… I am fine." He blinked rapidly to hide the unshed tears.
"You don't look fine. You look like you're about to break down and start sobbing like a little girl."
"I will admit to a touch of melancholy. It's my mother's birthday and I've reached the age of when you begin to think about all that you wish you'd said while you had the time, but didn't." That at least wasn't a lie; he did miss his mother more than he cared to admit to himself.
"Amen to that, partner." Napoleon slapped his hands together. "I know exactly what you need. A little song, a little dance, some appropriate company… we'll have you back on track in no time."
"Yes, my friend," Illya said, smiling slightly. "I do believe you know exactly what I need, but I think perhaps a night in instead."
"Are you sure?" Napoleon's eyes dropped to the desk blotter, noted the changed position of the letter, and then back up, a grin on his lips. "If that's what you want, sounds good to me." Sometimes even the most astute spy needed a little nudge in the right direction.