Title: "The Wassail Affair"

Fandom: Man From U.N.C.L.E.

Author: Kei

Pairing: Illya / Napoleon

Rating: PG (C'mon...It's a Christmas story.)

Warning: Are you kidding?

Disclaimers: Man From U.N.C.L.E. (and its characters) belong to MGM. I'm just borrowing them for a little while -please don't sue me. I'm always broke.





THE WASSAIL AFFAIR

by Kei




Impossible.

He couldn't believe that this was happening to him.

But it was.

All the symptoms were there.

Nausea...

Palpitations...

Cold sweat...

Dread.

A panic attack.

He -Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin- was having a panic attack...or something pretty close to one.

And it was all Napoleon Solo's fault.

A cold hand surrepticiously wiped at the trickle of moisture that trailed down the side of Kuryakin's slightly flushed face. He wasn't a nervous person by nature -he prided himself on that- but this mission...this affair had a swarm of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

And it was so Napoleon's fault...

...but then again, maybe it was just as much his for falling for the elder agent's reasoning. "Illya," he had said with that frustratingly winning smile of his, "it's not an unreasonable request. You know *I* would do it. You know I *have* done it before -I just need to know if *you* can."

No-one had questioned Illya Kuryakin's sense of commitment or courage before...and he hadn't liked it. He'd liked even less that his partner had made sense. They had to know -*he* had to know.

So, here he was, in a room full of people (wall to wall people, in fact), looking for his target, determined to fulfill his mission on one hand and on the verge of succumbing to nerves on the other. Maybe a glass of champagne would help.

Just then...

*There*.

A small determined smile curled Kuryakin's lips as he spied his target at last, champagne and nerves forgotten as he focused and single-mindedly made his way through the crowd. He was resolute -when he and his target met, the man would know it. "You!" His target whirled on his heel, eyes wide, apparently not believing after all that the Russian U.N.C.L.E. agent had actually come. Kuryakin's smile widened further as he quickly reached toward his target, grasped him by the head...

...and kissed him.

Hard.

Under the mistletoe.

After several seemingly endless minutes, pressed by a need for oxygen, Illya Kuryakin and Napoleon Solo pulled apart, barely aware of the clatter of clapping hands and one or two whispers of "It's about time" from the other attendants of U.N.CL.E.'s annual Christmas party. "So..."
Kuryakin whispered, "do you *still* think I'm too shy about our relationship?"

For once, Napoleon Solo couldn't think of a word to say as he captured his partner's lips and swallowed his words.



**The End**



MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
-Kei