Deception
Chapter 2
The second move was much more to Gaby's liking than the first. For one, the agency Illya was now working with seemed to have a better idea of what a struggle it would be for a one person to try to organise the move while looking after a child and they had given Illya enough leave for them to organise everything together and put it into action. She didn't even want to think of how difficult it would have been for her to travel alone with Klaus, and found herself already with a very favourable opinion of Illya's new employers.
The flat they had been provided with in London had clearly been chosen to accommodate for a small family, and while Illya dealt with their boxes of belongings she had wandered around, holding Klaus to her hip as she explored their new home. There was a room that had clearly been designated the nursery and was already furnished with all the essentials that would have been too inconvenient to bring over from Russia. Upon entering that room her initial elation at the comfortable surroundings immediately turned sour as suspicion descended over her. This all seemed a little too generous and she couldn't help but worry that there was some ulterior motive at play. The KGB appeared to have given their blessing to this new international group, but what if this was all some sort of cover to try to wheedle a defection? Present them with enough shiny baubles to convince them to put themselves into danger just for some greater comforts. With her paranoia stoked, another uncomfortable thought came to her mind. They were in London now, Waverly's playing ground. What if he got wind of her being around? Or worse what if he already knew? It was very convenient that of all the KGB agents it was her husband that ended up relocating to England. She felt stupid that the thought had not entered her head earlier, but when Illya had first told her the news she had been too distracted by the thought of having to pack all her things and cross several countries again to really consider the implications.
Illya distracted her from her thoughts by dropping a box by her side and suggesting she set up the playpen so Klaus could play while they continued to unpack. She let the innocuous tasks occupy her mind and once they were both finished and she and Illya tiredly settled down on the couch, she found her gaze travelling over to her son. He gurgled happily as he played with some wooden blocks, and she felt a sudden rush of protectiveness come over her. Regardless of what happened, she and Illya would always make sure to put him first and there was no bribe anyone could offer them that would change that. She dropped her head onto Illya's shoulder and felt one of his arms slip around her, allowing her to move deeper into his embrace.
"I have to go into work tomorrow." He told her, and she nodded acceptingly.
"Do you have any idea how long we will be staying?" She asked tentatively in Russian, the strange sounds coming from her mouth hesitantly. The struggle was worth it for the wide smile he sent in her direction.
"No idea." He replied in kind. "Could be months, maybe years. The intention seems to be long term, but it will probably end as soon as relations between the US and USSR collapse." For one insane moment she almost hoped for it, her worries only making her want to go back to somewhere which while dangerous and unpredictable was at least more honest in its intentions. "Would you be upset to leave?" Illya asked, a slight lilt to his voice that hinted at an unsaid worry. He had never been totally confident in their relationship, not even when she'd said 'I do' in badly accented Russian or handed over Klaus with proud happy eyes. To look at him you would never think that he would have such bad self-esteem but she had learned that he harboured a constant fear that eventually the uncertain life he provided for her would not be enough and she would wise up and move on, potentially taking Klaus with her.
"No." Gaby said honestly, and tilted her head so she could look him in the eye. "I don't care where we are as long as you and Klaus are with me." He leaned his forehead down so it touched her, and she closed her eyes to savour this quiet intimate moment.
Living in the West was not what Gaby had thought it would be, as she learned over the first few weeks. Her expectations had always been high, and it was only now that she faced reality that she realised she had placed it on a pedestal that the real thing could never hope to reach. It was not some perfect ideal world, yes perhaps it did have some advantages over the USSR in that she could listen to whatever music she pleased and she had access to some more controversial literature. But strangely she found that there were many things she missed- the vodka wasn't as good for one. That particular problem was very quickly rectified by Illya and before she even had a chance to complain a case of bottles with familiar Cyrillic lettering appeared in the cupboard she had reserved for such items. She also found their sudden anonymity quite jarring. Without realising it, she had become quite used to being treated with a certain level of respect while she had travelled around their neighbourhood. Illya's success and position within the KGB earned him a certain degree of admiration and fear, and her association to him meant that some of that was conferred over to her. It was only now that she lived in a flat complex where no one really spoke to one another that she realised how different the experience had been. It had been nice to be regarded so highly and she found that she strangely missed the experience, even though she knew in the back of her mind that it was not necessarily motivated by positive intentions. Illya barely seemed to care about the change, and it reminded her that he was all too used to being shunned and disliked due to his father's actions and that he likely preferred anonymity over either alternative.
As Gaby adjusted to the new environment, she was also surprised to see that Illya's first few weeks at his new headquarters were surprisingly uneventful. She had expected him to disappear shortly after they had settled in, but he hadn't and according to him it was due to extra training sessions and assessments by the new organisation. She guessed it was due to them wanting to make sure they understood their agent's capabilities, but she couldn't be certain as Illya didn't elaborate any further on the subject and she never really pushed him to talk about his job more than he would naturally reveal. She knew he didn't do it intentionally to keep her out of the loop, he had always had the attitude that the less she knew about what he did the less trouble she would be in if anything went wrong for him.
After the first few weeks, Illya did eventually start being sent away again but Gaby found his absences were no longer quite so distressing now she had more to distract herself with. Her father and later her foster father had taught her English, believing it a very important language to learn, and this meant she did not face the same difficulties as she had done in Russia. Similarly, she found that once she acquired some new clothes she tended to fit in a lot better, her slight accent far less noticeable than when she butchered Russian. She did find herself becoming wary whenever anyone enquired as to her son's name while she was out for the day. 'Klaus' was very obviously not English, and it garnered a few negative reactions as people connected the dots. The cooing quickly stopped and was replaced by withdrawal and disdainful looks in her direction, some more rude than others. It had been very different in Russia, she had always clearly been seen as a foreigner but no one had dared to show her any disrespect.
Two months into living in London, Gaby was idly peeling carrots in the kitchen while Klaus entertained himself in his high chair. She sometimes regretted the decision she had made shortly after delivering him, she and Illya had talked it through and she had eventually come to the conclusion that it would be best for her to stay at home and look after Klaus until he was old enough to go to school. Childcare was too difficult and expensive to come by, and she even found herself surprisingly reluctant to let a stranger look after her baby. It had been the compromise they had reached, and when Illya was home she would sometimes spend the day away at a garage, refreshing her skills for the time when she would be able to work again. It was a refreshing change from dealing with nappies and tantrums. She was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, the noise also getting Klaus's attention. Quickly washing her hands, Gaby headed over to the door, feeling a surge of curiosity as to the identity of their visitor. She knew it couldn't be Illya, he would not bother ringing the bell and would just walk straight in, give her a kiss and pick up Klaus.
The face that greeted her at the door was a handsome but unfamiliar one, and he seemed equally baffled to see her.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I think I have the wrong flat." He said immediately, his accent giving away the fact he was American. "But what a pleasant mistake that turned out to be!" The charm was turned on smoothly, and had Gaby not been so wary she might not have noticed the very quick way his gaze scanned over her features and body, quickly assessing her age and attractiveness.
"Who are you looking for?" She asked in English, pointedly ignoring his comment.
"I was looking for my colleague, but I could be looking for you instead." He said, a charming grin lighting up on his face as one of his hands went to lean on the doorframe. She felt her initial annoyance harden into dislike as she knew that in his perusal he had not failed to notice the wedding ring on her finger.
"How convenient." She said blandly. "I've been looking for a babysitter so my husband and I can go out for the evening. My baby is sick at the moment, I hope you don't mind getting that nice suit of yours covered in half-digested milk." She nearly laughed at how quickly he seemed to recoil, his hand dropping from the door in his haste to step away. He might have been willing to seduce a married woman, but lifelong bachelors always seemed less comfortable with the idea of a squawking child.
"Ah, children are not my speciality." He said uncomfortable. "You wouldn't happen to know if one of your neighbours is a large and perpetually grumpy Russian?" The questions caused one of Gaby's eyebrows to rise and she opened the door wider, stepping out of the way to allow him passage into the flat.
"Perhaps you should come in." He looked shock at this abrupt change in attitude and a look of confusion crossed his face. She nearly sighed at his utter obliviousness. "Illya's not home yet." She told him, and saw that even with this extra information he was still visibly struggling to connect the dots. "We've not met," she outstretched a hand for him to shake, "I'm Gaby Kuryakin, Illya's wife." Her hand continued to hover in the air for some time as Gaby found herself greatly amused by his look of utter stupefied surprise, and concluded that her husband had probably not disclosed his marital status to his partner.
"Peril's married?!" The American blurted out, still not making any move towards going into the flat.
"Yes." She said slowly, as though speaking to someone very dim. "He's getting some groceries, he will be home soon if you want to speak to him." She made another gesture for him to come in, and mutely he stepped through the door, allowing her to shut it behind him. "You must be the annoying American he works with." She commented mildly as she headed back into the kitchen, the sound of footsteps behind her confirming that he was following her. Gaby had heard a great many things about the man that was now in her flat, mostly uncomplimentary. From what she could understand, their relationship had an oddly brotherly vibe in that they both seemed to dislike each other while at the same time not be willing to allow the other to come to harm.
"Annoying?" He asked incredulously. "He has no room to talk, he is a giant stick in the mud!" She immediately shot him a look that informed him she would not listen to any more disparaging compliments, and he seemed to understand, shooting her a sheepish smile even as his eyes turned towards the other human in the room. Klaus had put down his toy when the stranger had entered, and now looked at the man with open curiosity. "Peril really is full of surprises, he didn't tell me he had a clone." Gaby felt her lips twist upwards at the joke.
"Illya doesn't really talk about personal matters often." She said. She was not surprised Illya had said nothing about his family to his partner, aside from being a deeply private person he also worked hard at keeping her separate from his job, not wanting her to get involved and be put into any danger.
"I've noticed." He commented. "I'm Napoleon." Gaby had picked up her knife to continue her task of chopping vegetables, but at that she set it down to give him a hard look. "I'm not lying!" He insisted. "My mother was obsessed with French history." She shook her head in bafflement, and continued working as her guest settled down onto one of the dining room chairs. "How long have you been married?"
"Nearly a year and a half." She said after some thought, using Klaus's birthday as a marker and thinking back. They hadn't really celebrated their anniversary, unfortunately Illya had been stuck in a hospital in Poland at the time and she had been too anxious and waiting for rare updates as to his condition to really think about it. It was only afterwards they had realised that their anniversary had been and gone without either of them really acknowledging it. Illya was more upset about it than her, and despite her insistence that it was fine he had made it up to her with a special dinner while Klaus was taken care of by the same neighbour who had been so helpful to her before.
Turning her attention back to Napoleon, she saw him glance between her and Klaus, clearly attempting the arithmetic and she saw a wide grin cross his face once he worked out that Klaus's conception likely took place sometime before her wedding day from what he could guess. She could almost see him try to figure out a delicate way he could ask the question he was clearly dying for an answer for, but before he could say anything they both turned their heads as the sound of a door opening and closing echoed clearly through the momentary silence.
Illya walked in with the large brown bag, and paused in the doorway as he took in the scene before him of his wife and partner in the same room.
"Cowboy." He greeted cordially, and kissed Gaby on the cheek as he deposited the bag on the counter beside her. "What are you doing here?"
"Well I wanted to talk to you about Singapore, but I've found a much more interesting subject now." Napoleon grinned wickedly. "I see you've been hiding some secrets away, Peril. Scared I might steal her away?" Illya snorted derisively from beside her, and gave her a smile when she rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him.
"Hardly. Gaby isn't an idiot." Napoleon made a noise of protest at that, and the two men bickered for some time like children over whether or not Napoleon could have eventually won her over. Gaby ignored them both as she realised the conversation was not actually serious, and busied herself with the preparation of the meal now that she had everything she needed. Without Illya needing to ask, she increased the quantities and set the pot on the stove to cook.
"I'll give Klaus his bath." Gaby said, providing the two men with an easy opportunity to have their private discussion without having to ask her to leave. Gratitude shone from Illya's eyes, and she made a mental note to collect on that later when they were alone.
Klaus enjoyed his baths and she indulged him in it for longer than normal, hoping that by the time she went back down the two men would be done with their business. Once he was clean and dressed in his bed clothes, Gaby carried Klaus back into the kitchen and placed him into his playpen, noticing that Napoleon was now relating a story about a play he had been to see, their discussion on Singapore clearly having been concluded before she returned.
Napoleon took over the conversation as they ate, and Gaby found her previous dislike of him start to fade away. He still flirted outrageously with her, but she could see now that it was more out of an attempt to rile up Illya than of genuine interest. Underneath the table, she caught Illya's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, giving him some reassurance that Napoleon's empty compliments were not having any effect.
It was dark when Napoleon left, Gaby and Illya both escorted him to the door and waved him off, Gaby leaning into Illya's side as they closed the door.
"He seemed nice." She murmured, slipping her arms around him now that they were alone again.
"Cowboy is annoying."
"You like him, admit it." Her suspicions from what he had told her had been confirmed over the night, had anyone else dared flirt with her so blatantly she was sure Illya would have decked them. The fact that Napoleon had left without a scratch spoke volumes about her husband's respect for him.
"Maybe." He allowed, and he tilted her head up so he could lean down a press a long, lingering kiss on her lips. He made to pull away but she caught the lapels of his jacket and held him in place, her mouth moving against his in increasingly urgent movements. His hands, which had gone to rest on her waist, untucked her shirt from her skirt so he could touch the skin underneath, fingers tightening around her and pulling her close.
A sudden noise of protest behind them interrupted the moment, and they reluctantly parted, shooting a fond look over at their discontent child. Illya moved away, the place where his hands had been still warm from the heat of his touch. He picked up Klaus and bounced him lightly.
"Maybe you'll be a good boy and go to sleep quickly tonight so your mother and I can spend some time together."
Gaby let out a laugh, and followed them into the nursery. To their surprise, Klaus had only needed to be rocked for a few minutes before his eyes had shut and his breathing evened out. Very slowly and quietly, Illya edged over towards the cot and carefully put him down, doing his best to not wake him up.
Already unbuttoning her blouse, Gaby backed out of the room under lllya's intense stare, her own smile reflecting his even as he followed her and pressed her up against the wall of the corridor. One of his hands cupped her cheek before he leaned in and caught her lips, and she returned the kiss just as passionately, somehow managing to wrest back enough concentration to push off his jacket and start attacking his shirt. Her blouse fell to the floor and shortly afterwards she felt a pair of hands on her hips lift her up so she didn't have to tilt so far up to kiss him. With her feet dangling in the air, she hooked them around his waist and looped her arms around his neck to further support herself as the kisses grew even more heated. She was only faintly aware of her back leaving the wall as Illya started walking them both towards their bedroom.
More time passed, and Napoleon started making more frequent visits towards the flat. Illya complained, but she doubted that he meant it and she did appreciate having someone she could share a bottle of wine with since Illya rarely drank. As she spent more in London with very few incidents, she found herself relaxing into the city a little, her previous worries that she might encounter Waverly diminishing by the day.
Queueing to buy groceries, Gaby shifted uncomfortably on her sore feet- juggling a squirming Klaus in one arm and a basket of items in the other. Klaus had recently taken his first wobbly steps and now seemed to object to being held for any period of time longer than a few minutes, unfortunately he still wasn't very good at walking and with a multitude of sharp edges around she was not content to let him explore and risk hurting himself. Reaching the front she managed to relieve herself of the basket but then had to try to wrest her handbag from her son's strong grip so she could get her purse out which was currently full of Illya's most recent pay check. The shopkeeper looked on impatiently as she rummaged around, and she shot him an apologetic look as she tried to hurry up.
"Allow me." A chillingly familiar voice said from beside her and in her peripheral vision she saw an arm suddenly extend and offer the shopkeeper a handful of notes. Removing her hand from her bag, she allowed it to join her other clasped around her son's back and she turned towards the man. "Hello Gaby," Waverly greeted, "long time, no see."
"Waverly." She said levelly, shifting Klaus around so he was further away from him. His eyes followed her movements but he said nothing of it.
"There's a café around the corner, you should join me." He said simply, and after collecting his change he walked out without a backward glance, confident that she would follow him without question.
For a moment Gaby hesitated, and then she retrieved her groceries and sped her pace so she caught up with him. They sat down in a secluded and quiet corner of the café, and after a hard look from Waverly one of the baristas hastily brought over a high-chair for the child in their company. Once their coffees were brought over, and they were left alone again, Waverly leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and although the way he looked at her suggested nothing other than pleasantness, there was a hard edge to it that made her grip on the high-chair tighten.
"I have to admit, Gaby, I was rather distressed to find out you had not felt the need to inform me of your sudden decision to relocate." His tone was deceptively calm, and his implication that she owed him such notification struck at her stubborn streak.
"My apologies, I had a lot on mind." She said it without a single trace of regret.
"Yes I can imagine." He deliberately allowed his gaze to fall on Klaus, who was busily playing with a biscuit the barista had put on the tray in front of him. "Your choice of husband came as quite a surprise too. I don't think I could have thought of someone less likely for you to marry."
"I don't see why." She retorted. "You barely know anything about me. A day convincing me to help you in the future does not equal a sudden in depth understanding of a person."
"Perhaps." Waverly agreed. "Kuryakin is an excellent spy, I don't think I've had many better under my command. I imagine you must be very proud of him." At her shocked expression, he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Did he not tell you? He works for me at the moment, for my international group. I did want the KGB's best on my team, and it was very convenient that in acquiring him I also managed to retrieve you." Gaby felt a cold shiver run down her spine at the implication, with very little effort Waverly could topple the domino to set in motion the complete breakdown of the mutual respect and trust she and Illya had built over the years.
"What is it you want?" She said, hating the tremor her voice took on.
"Your father has been spotted in Italy. We believe that the Vinciguerras, a couple with Nazi sympathies, have captured him in order to force him to force him to build them a bomb with his new enrichment techniques." He paused to allow the information to sink in. "This is a matter I require your help with-"
"No." Gaby interrupted swiftly, already having heard enough and not wanting him to try to convince her with any details. "My agreement to assist MI6 ended the moment I discovered I was pregnant. Before I had nothing to lose, and now I do. I have a husband and a child, and I won't betray either of them for a promise I made before I had either of them. Do what you want, send us back to the USSR- I don't care. Just stay out of our lives."
"I'm afraid I can't do that Gaby." And for a moment, Waverly almost looked sorry. "This is bigger than you and your family. If your father finishes his research and passes on his knowledge, this could start world war three, and if you think that it won't affect you, Illya or your child then you are a fool." He stood up from the table even as she struggled to try to come up with an answer, her eyes desperately following him as though somehow she could convince him he was wrong. "I'm sorry, Gaby." Waverly said, sincerity creeping through the authoritative way he spoke. "I have as little choice in this matter as you. We're in a time critical situation, and you have until tomorrow to tell Illya the truth, or I will. Whatever happens, you will be going to Italy and you will be meeting your uncle. The sooner you reconcile yourself to that fact the better."
Without another word or anymore utter of protest from Gaby, he departed leaving her staring open-mouthed at his back, fighting back tears of horror as she realised she was backed into a corner and out of options. The secret she should have told Illya so long ago, an old skeleton that had been hidden away for so long, and now because of her mistake it would be revealed in the worst possible way.
Author's Note: This was also reposted from my drabble series, I've now deleted the chapters from the drabble series and moved them into their own separate story. I've written most of chapter 3, just need to find an appropriate way to end it and then edit and post.