Mr. Waverly was annoyed with himself. He tamped his favorite tobacco blend into his current favorite pipe, a Half – bent Dublin. He was standing looking out his office window at the Manhattan skyline but, not really seeing it. He fished around in his pockets for his matches to no avail. He sighed in a combination of displeasure and frustration and then returned to his desk where he sat and picked up the matchbook from his desk blotter. He lit his pipe but, instead of the momentary relaxation he usually felt, he just felt disquiet.

He was expecting Mssrs. Solo and Kuryakin at 10AM to discuss their last affair's report and had ordered them to bring the child. He was planning to tell them what he had decided. The problem and the reason for his annoyance was that he had not, as yet, reached a final decision.

Their mission had been to obtain the plans for THRUSH's latest weapon and then destroy the South Korean satrap that had been built especially to house the lab where the weapon was being manufactured. As was expected of his most successful team, they managed to achieve their objectives and remain alive, even though they accidentally destroyed their jeep in the process and therefore, had to walk to meet the helicopter at the extraction point. It was during that trek that they encountered a young orphan that Mr. Kuryakin determined would be in imminent danger if she were left behind, so he and Mr. Solo brought her to the rendezvous with the chopper and subsequently, on to New York.

Upon arriving at UNCLE headquarters, Mr. Solo had reported directly to Mr. Waverly for debriefing while Mr. Kuryakin had taken the girl to Medical for a checkup. Mr. Solo had requested and been granted a week's vacation for both he and his partner. When he had finished his verbal report, he relieved Mr. Kuryakin in Medical so that he could type up the written report and deliver it to the Section One Chief. He had left the report with Mr. Waverly's secretary because the Old Man had been on a conference call with the other Continental Chiefs.

Officially, Mr. Waverly did not approve of, or listen to, gossip or rumor mongering. Unofficially, Miss Rogers kept him abreast of all water cooler topics. It added to his mystique that he always seemed to know about everything that went on in HQ, from Del Floria's flirting with the widow who lived around the corner to which agents were dating which secretaries. For the past week, the usual lurid tales of sex and romance had taken a back seat to a little half – Korean, half – American Negro two year old girl and the Section Two CEA and his Russian partner who seemed to have fallen in love with her. Leona Nicole, as they had named her, had made two appearances in UNCLE HQ; her initial visit to Medical and her follow up visit three days later. Mr. Waverly was well aware that most of the single, female UNCLE employees have always practically swooned at the sight of his top two agents, a fact that his CEA likes to use to his advantage though Mr. Kuryakin very rarely indulges himself. But apparently, seeing the two men in parenting mode now had these same women virtually throwing themselves at their feet. He knew that UNCLE's grapevine was fast but, when it came to Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin, it operated at the speed of light. Both times she was in Medical; women from all over the building arrived presenting with headaches, cramps, aggravated carpal tunnel syndrome or just general malaise, anything that would give them an excuse to go see a doctor or nurse. The medical staff was entertained watching each woman make sure she spoke with one or both of the agents to comment on how cute the child was or to offer to babysit and/or shop for her.

Mr. Waverly extinguished his pipe and sighed heavily. He had hoped that Mr. Solo would have convinced Mr. Kuryakin that the best thing they could do for this little girl is hand her over to the City of New York's Department of Children's Services for placement in foster care. Dr. James had told Mr. Waverly that while Mr. Solo was affectionate toward Leona, it was Mr. Kuryakin who was completely besotted with her. He had known the young Russian man before his CEA did; indeed, he had made the decision to pair them in the field because he knew their strengths complemented each other. He also knew that Mr. Kuryakin was not the glacial Ice Prince he pretended to be but rather, a man of deep emotions and passions. He has lost much in his lifetime. If he has truly bonded with this child, he thought, losing her might break him. He would still perform his job effectively but, a part of him would be irrevocably damaged. And, how would that affect his partnership with Mr. Solo? His thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of the intercom. He pushed a button and said, "Yes, what is it, Miss Rogers?"

"Mr. Waverly, Agents Solo and Kuryakin are here as is Miss Reilly."

"Very good. Send them in, Miss Rogers."

The door slid open revealing his agents. Mr. Solo walked in first and sat in his usual place. Mr. Kuryakin was looking down and shuffling his legs. The table blocked his view but, Mr. Waverly knew from doing it with his own children and grandchildren that the Russian was "herding" the toddler into the room. He bent down and quickly picked the girl up and moved toward his seat where he sat with the girl on his lap. "Good morning, Sir," they said in unison.

"Good morning, Gentlemen. Let's get on with it, shall we? Introduce me to Miss Leona Nicole and let's talk about her future." The Old Man watched as his Russian agent glanced quickly at his partner, and then nodded.

He lifted Leona up, smiled at her, pointed at his boss and said, "Leona, he is Mr. Waverly. 인사. Say hello." He placed her on the table and then slowly began to rotate it. She laughed when Napoleon stuck his tongue out at her and blew a quick kiss as she glided past. Illya continued to move the tabletop until she was sitting directly in front of the Continental Chief.

She was tickled at the ride around the room and giggled at the old, strange man in front of her. She wasn't afraid at all and reached out to be held. To the agents' surprise, Mr. Waverly picked Leona up and stood her on his leg. She grabbed his nose and he laughed and grinned at her.

"Leona has a predilection for pulling people's noses," Illya said solemnly.

Remembering the young men sitting opposite him, he harrumphed to regain his dignity and sat her on the edge of the table. "Mr. Kuryakin, how is the young lady's health?"

"Dr. James gave her a thorough examination. She was malnourished and dehydrated but, he said considering that she had received no care whatsoever for at least three days, she is in remarkably decent shape. She does not seem to have any developmental delays. In fact, he thinks she is quite bright. She already seems to understand a few English words. He's not one of her favorite people, though. He drew blood from her and gave her four shots. I need to…" Illya corrected himself, "She'll need to see a doctor in six weeks to get the rest of her immunizations. He said if Napoleon or I don't hear from him it means nothing was wrong with the blood work."

Mr. Waverly nodded and asked a question, certain he already knew the answer. "So, which one of you has been taking care of this little one?"

His Chief Enforcement Agent, who had been sitting quietly since coming into his office, leaned forward and replied, "Well, ah, both Mr. Kuryakin and I have been caring for Leona, Sir."

Mr. Waverly raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Both of you? Do you think it's good for her to be shuttled back and forth between your two apartments?"

Napoleon squirmed ever so slightly in his seat. Only Illya's knowledge of his partner caused him to notice; Mr. Waverly noticed because his years in the Game totaled more than the combined ages of the men sitting in front of him. He placed Leona on his lap, spun his chair around so he could pluck his Woodstock pipe from the pipe holder that sat on the small file cabinet, handed it to the toddler and placed her on the rug. Confident that the girl was occupied for at least five minutes, he swung back around and laid his gaze upon the dark – haired agent. "Well, Mr. Solo?"

"As I said, Illya and I have both been caring for Leona. For the past week, they've, ah, been staying with me in the penthouse because it's larger than his place." Napoleon studied his boss closely to see how he took that news but, couldn't get a read on him. If the Old Man has a problem with us living together, then nothing we've planned will be able to happen. When Mr. Waverly said nothing, he continued, "The main reason I requested a week's leave was so that Illya and I could discuss the possibility of keeping Leona." He looked at the Russian and thought, It's out there now, partner, there's no going back. Napoleon turned his attention back to his superior. "We know this situation is more than a little unusual but, we've given this a lot of thought."

Mr. Waverly stared down at the little girl sitting quietly on his office's carpet engrossed in playing with his pipe, his face an expressionless mask. "Have you now," he replied in a dry voice. "Tell me what your thoughts are." He gazed at both men expectantly.

Illya spoke up. "Mr. Waverly, this entire situation can be laid at my feet. I saw the girl in the village; I claimed her and brought her with us. I had the bad judgment to become attached to her. Her circumstances reminded me…" his voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and almost whispered, "I couldn't leave her. On the trip back to New York, Napoleon tried to get me to voluntarily give Leona to Child Services but, I don't believe that would be in her best interests."

Napoleon broke in, "Sir, if you allow us to keep her, we would continue to live together, for lack of a better term. The penthouse next door to mine is for sale. I know the real estate agent and I convinced her to hold it until I let her know what I plan to do. I would tear down the wall separating the apartments and that would give us more than enough space to live comfortably."

Illya elaborated, "We have ten more years before we age out of the field. We've spoken with Agent Greer of Section Three and his wife. They already have a four year old girl and they would be willing to keep Leona Nicole with them when we are on assignment. It would be good for her to live with a black family as that is half her heritage. We would each assign part of our pay to be directed to them to pay for her upkeep. We would obtain a birth certificate listing me as the father of record; my will would name Napoleon as guardian if he survived the field and I did not. We would change our wills so that If we…if we both were not to return, they would have guardianship of Leona and money to care for her until she was old enough to claim the inheritance we would leave her."

Leona had managed to pull herself up while Illya was speaking and had walked to where Napoleon was sitting. She offered the pipe to him, which he took and placed on the table. "Thank you, Leona," he said as he picked her up and hugged her. She put her thumb in her mouth and laid her head on his shoulder. He turned his head to kiss her gently.

Mr. Waverly harrumphed and leaned back in his chair. "Have either of you thought about how your proposed living arrangement might be perceived by your fellow agents and coworkers?"

Napoleon looked over Leona's head at Illya before he spoke. "Sir, the rumors about the ah, nature of Illya's and my partnership have floated around UNCLE New York, and for all I know, all of UNCLE since we were first partnered. I'm sure there will be some who, if we're allowed to do this, will be saying 'I told you so' and winning bets and office pools but, I've never cared to respond to the gossip and I certainly have never felt that I have to explain myself to anyone here, except you." Napoleon thought, Oh no, Mr. Waverly! That idea hadn't occurred to me! With some trepidation, he inquired, "Ah, sir? May I ask you a question?" At the Old Man's nod, he stated, "Everyone knows that Illya and I wouldn't dare attempt this without your knowledge and permission. So, might you concerned at all about how you might be perceived by the organization if you were to give us a green light?" Out of the corner of his eye, Napoleon saw Illya pale slightly and sit even straighter, something he wouldn't have thought possible. It didn't occur to you either, did it, Tovarisch?

"I assure you, Mr. Solo, that all my decisions are uninfluenced by what others may think of them or me. What does influence my thinking is what will be best for the personnel and organization of UNCLE. Mr. Kuryakin, if I were to permit this…adoption to happen, tell me: What would Leona's life be like when you are not on a mission? What do you think you can do for her?"

Illya knew so much was riding on his answer. He gathered his thoughts and replied, "Agent Greer's wife, Rosie, gave me the contact information for the daycare center their daughter attends; the center accepts two year olds and I have been assured there is room for her right now. I arrive at the office between 6:30 and 7AM. Napoleon comes in between 9AM and 10AM so we've agreed that he would drop her off and I would pick her up on the way home. She has her own bed now and would have her own room, both in the penthouse and with the Greers when necessary. I've been speaking to her in Korean, English and Russian. Napoleon speaks to her in English, French and Italian. We would continue to do so. We both want her to be multi – lingual, like we are." Illya took a deep breath to steady himself and leaned forward to place his hands on the table. "Mr. Waverly, I want to say I did not bring Leona to New York to make her life harder. I do not know how or why it happened but, I loved her almost from the moment I first saw her. Napoleon has grown closer to her since deciding he wanted to be involved in raising her but, I would want to raise her even if he wanted nothing to do with her. We have taken good care of her, so far. I want her to be happy, healthy and well – cared for; I would do anything to make that happen even if, even if it means I have to give her up. I promise you, Sir, if I cannot be an effective agent and parent, I will let the Greers adopt her. Napoleon and I have already discussed this with them and they are in agreement." The Russian's face worked itself back into its unreadable state but, both Mr. Waverly and his partner had seen the emotions that Illya now suppressed.

The Old Man was quiet for so long, Illya was certain he had failed in his attempt to convince him. Well, he thought, Rosie and Lamont will give her a good life and I will be able to take comfort in the fact that she is not going to have the life her mother had. I am going to miss…"

"Mr. Kuryakin, did you not hear me?"

"Sir?"

Mr. Waverly rotated the table to reclaim the pipe he had allowed Leona to play with earlier. "I said, Agent Kuryakin, that I intend to hold you to your promise." He smiled inwardly at the way the Russian's eyes widened before he regained his composure. "All of your plans regarding the child sound good, Gentlemen. You may proceed with them but, do understand that I will be reviewing your work and your missions closely and if either of you do not operate up to your usual standards…"

Napoleon spoke up, "I will, as CEA, ensure that that does not happen. Thank you, Mr. Waverly."

Illya had gotten over his shock enough to echo his partner. "Yes, thank you, Sir."

Mr. Waverly reached for his humidor and his Half – bent Dublin. "You're quite welcome. I suggest that you go to Personnel and file all the necessary changes in to your records and then head to Legal to draw up your wills. Mr. Kuryakin, they will also draw up an Adoptive Birth Certificate. After that, drop your daughter at daycare and report to the labs. Mr. Solo, there are a weeks' worth of agents' reports awaiting your review and signature. Have a good day." He turned around and picked up papers to peruse, effectively dismissing them.

"Yes, Sir. Have a good day." Illya stood and took the still sleeping child from his partner and headed toward the door with his partner close behind.

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Later that evening, as Leona slept peacefully in her bed, Napoleon and Illya sat in the living room, each with a drink in hand contemplating how much their lives had changed in eight days. Illya stretched and commented, "I didn't dare to think this before but, I want Leona to call me 'Papa.'"

Napoleon smiled and replied, "Good, because I plan to be 'Daddy.'"

"Thank you, Napoleon. I don't think the Old Man would have approved of me keeping Leona if you had not been onboard with the idea. That means a lot to me."

"You're welcome, partner. Are you going to tell me what it was about that little girl's plight that resonated with you so strongly that we are parents now?"

Illya smiled and sipped his vodka. "That is a story for another day, my friend."