Illya decided it was best to speak to his wife at home rather than at headquarters. Luckily she had not gotten wind of Bill Klein being in the building or she probably would have gone after the man for having the audacity to encroach upon U.N.C.L.E. territory. As well has she had learned to curb her fierce Irish temper, there were certain things that he knew would set her off and Klein was one of them.

She had never had the satisfaction of belting Klein, as she put it when she and Napoleon went to the debrief in Waverly's office. Though Napoleon stopped her from throwing herself at the man like a raging she-wolf, he at least got his sucker punch in and decked Klein with a solid uppercut to the jaw and sent him flying on his arse, as Elliott liked to say when recounting the story.

She would have genuinely loved to have gotten her hands on the C.I.A. agent, and would have definitely inflicted more damage than Solo had.

Kuryakin harbored his own dislike of the man, but understood that these sort of things happened in the dirty little game of espionage that they all played. But that didn't mean he had to like it, or the man.

Elliott was home early in the afternoon, having finished her training seminars and demonstrations in the gym before her husband and his partner had their little boxing fiasco.

Illya avoided her all day as he knew that he was in a foul mood and was not ready to talk things over with her while he was in such a contentious frame of mine.

Napoleon was right, he had made up his mind already and would do his best to convince Elliott that his was the right decision, but he had also made up his mind as well to listen carefully to what she had to say and be fair. He would not be a stubborn bastard and be sure to let her have her say on the matter.

If she really was against it for good reasons, then he would refuse Klein's offer. Better Elliott was happy instead of Bill Klein. And if that was the way it went, then so be it.

He had tolerated the C.I.A. and other agencies tormenting him over the years so it would be nothing new. And as to the idea that he could be deported...he doubted that Waverly would let that ever happen. The idea of becoming a U.S. citizen was more so for the sake of his family, than for himself; though getting these agencies off his back would have been a nice change of pace.

Illya arrived home just after five, walking into the house, quietly slipping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen behind his wife but making just enough noise that she'd hear and not cause her to react thinking he was an intruder and try to kill him.

He stopped for a second, looking at her and her admiring her shapely bottom. She was as in as good a shape as when he first seen her in that saucy little maid's costume in Paris in spite of her having given birth to two children."*

"Illuysha ye are home early...good, dinner is just about ready so we can eat together for once."

"Smells good," he whispered as he wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing the back of her neck before he leaned forward giving the stove top a sniff." What is it Anya?"

"Something I haven't made in a long time...Irish stew."

"Mmmm smells wonderful, just like you," he laughed.

"Gee thanks?" she said sarcastically, " I've never been compared ta stew before but then again given how much ye love yer food, I guess it must really be a compliment?"

"I suppose so, considering at the moment I could eat you up," he said giving her a solid kiss on the lips."Where are the children?"

"Demmy is in his room and Lourdes is asleep in the playpen in the living room...at least I thing she's asleep, as it's been awfully quiet in there for about ten minutes."

"You haven't checked on her?"

"Of course I have ye ninny, but lately she's been just laying there being really quiet, just looking at her hands and feet and then around the room...she's thinkin' that one. I'll lay good money on that."

"And what do you think our little angel is thinking about?" Illya asked very seriously.

"Escape."

"From the playpen?"

"Oh yah! She'd been pulling herself up ta her feet, standing there holding onta the bars, pushing herself up on her toes and pulling herself up. I swear, she'll get out of there before she can walk. She's half monkey like ye are I think?"

Illya laughed heartily this time. "Yes I can see her escaping, crawling away at breakneck speeds now. We may have to use a pursuit car to catch up with her or perhaps a helicopter?"

"Be serious," Elliott said as she poked him in the stomach with the long handle of her wooden spoon." Ye just wait for her ta start walking, that child's going to be a terror! Be a darlin' and go check on her, and I'll finish up here...would ye like some biscuits as well with yer stew?"

Illya stuck his finger into the cooking pot, tasting the gravy with a look of satisfaction. "Mmmm, what do you think?" he smiled, walking backwards out of the kitchen before he turned, heading to the living room.

"I'll take that as a yes." she called after him, then mumbled to herself." I don't know why I ask...I swear that man will eat anything I put in front of him."

"Heard that!" he called back to her."And no not quite everything...remember I do not like fish broth or whale blubber and come to think of it roasted scorpions and grubs are not high on my list.

"Oh thank ye for that lovely image...now don't be schmart with me!" she laughed as he finally disappeared from her sight.

It was as Elliott predicted, Lourdes had pulled herself up to the railing of the crib and her little feet were dangling as she tried to catch them on the bars. She squealed with delight when she saw her father.

"Laaaaaalalalala! Bababababa!"

"I swear you are part monkey, my sweet, " he laughed as he picked her up into his arms." that is it...say papa, come on you are almost there. Pa-pa, pa-pa?"

"Ba bababa baba."

"Papa?"

"Ba-ba."

"Papa...pazhaluista? Skazhite, chto dlya papa_ please say it for papa?Who am I Lala? Pa-pa?"

"Pa...pa. papapapapapapa...pa-pa."

"Da! Papa! my sweet yes!" Illya laughed in delight. " Can you say it again for me...who am I?"

"Pa-pa." answered the tiny voice.

"Annushka! She called me Papa!" he yelled. "She...Lourdes said her first word!"

His wife walked into the living room grinning from ear to ear.

"Ah sure there'll be no stopping her now! Right Lala?

"Da." the baby answered, making her parents both stare at each other.

"Did she just...? Illya ask her a question."

"What is my name?"

"Pa-pa."

"And is your name Lala?"

"Da, Lalalalalalala!" Lourdes giggled.

"And who am I Lala?" Elliott asked, "Ma-ma? Can ye say Ma-ma?"

"Lalalalalalaaaaaa!"

"Ah sure so much fer that!"Elliott said.

The baby continued babbling for a moment then surprised her parents again. "Lalalala...Ma-ma. Lalalaaaa."

"Mama? Say it again, Mama?" Elliott prompted her."Who am I?

"Ma-ma."

"And what is my name?" Illya asked again, just to make sure it wasn't a fluke.

"Pa-pa."

"Oh Lord, on top of her walking soon, now we'll have a little chatterbox on our hands," Elliott laughed.

Demya walked into the room behind his parents, but his sister spotted him first. "Dem-ah!" Lourdes said as she pointed at him.

"Who is that Lala?" Illya asked.

"Dem-ah!"

"Hey Lala said my name!" Demya laughed, " Can she talk now?"

"She's trying darlin' boy." His mother smiled at him.

"Dem-ah Dem-ah! Unnnnn?" She called out to her brother, extending her arms to him.

"I think you are right Annushka?" Illya said rolling his eyes, but inside he was beaming with pride.

They fed the children first and then let Olga take them for a bit while they enjoyed their dinner together in peace and quiet. Illya placed a pair of candlesticks on the table then lit them with a match.

"Oh and what are ye angling for Kuryakin? A night out carousing with Napoleon perhaps?" Elliott asked.

"No not at all, and what makes you think I am up to something? Can a husband not want to have a romantic evening with his beautiful wife?"

She eyed at him suspiciously, not that what he was doing bothered her, romance was a good thing after all.

"I have a little surprise for you." he smiled.

"Really? I can't imagine what that would be?"

Illya handed her two tickets, concert tickets. "It is for a tour of the All-Ireland champions. I thought you would like to attend."

"They're here in New York?" Elliott was taken completely off guard.

"Yes for one night only, but in Queens."

"Oh Illuysha this is wonderful. I haven't heard good traditional music in ages." she smiled. In truth Elliott had not picked up her fiddle in a long time, not since they had moved to Washington Square and she had not found time to go near a session in any Irish bar.

"Oh that would be grand, " she sighed, "thank you my love!"

They finished eating, piling the dishes into the sink and leaving them to be taken care of later. Then headed off and drove off in Illya's green mustang heading towards the concert venue out near Breezy Point . They had a bit of a ride as it was being held at P.S. 114 in Belle Harbor out on the Rockaway peninsula.

There were at least two hundred people there, a fair amount of them from Ireland and the rest being Irish American, all there to listen to the concert being given by dozen young men and women who had competed and won in the All-Ireland Championships... competitions on various traditional instruments as well as singing and dancing held each year in Ireland as a way of preserving their heritage.

Tonight there were fiddles, harp flutes, the Irish Uilleann pipes, accordions and concertinas all creating a marvelous sound together.

Illya had developed a deep appreciation of the music from his wife's home and could see why she loved it so much, but jazz still remained his favorite style.

The musicians began with a soft lilting jig, then moved to more lively tune as a pair of curly haired girls... dancers dressing in colorfully embroidered moved out to the stage, followed by a young boy dresses simply in black trousers and a white shirt. They proceeded to dance beautiful and intricate steps to the music.

"Ah sure that's one of my favorite jigs, the lark in the morning," Elliott leaned over whispering to her husband then giving him a peck on the cheek.

As the night went on the music became faster and livelier and by the time the show was over, even Illya had to admit that he was disappointed that it had ended.

They drove back home, filled with a carefree and happy feeling from the night's entertainment, though Illya knew he had to eventually broach the subject of the mission for the C.I.A.

"I think I'd like for Demmy ta take Irish step dancing lessons...he is after all half Irish?" Elliott mused, then paused," It'd be up ta him though, I wouldn't force him inta it.

Illya mused, thinking he already knew his son's answer to that. Demya was like his father in that he was not outgoing and tended to keep to himself, more so since their return from Germany and that was nearly a half a year ago. Though Illya himself could dance and was fairly good at it, as was his mother. Demya showed little interest in it. His curiousity seemed to lie in all things mechanical.

They arrived home late and the children were asleep downstairs with Olga, so Illya still feeling lyrical from the concert turned on the the radio in the living room, adjusting the lights down low, then he pulled Elliott into his arms, slow dancing to Johnny Rivers' Tracks of my Tears. The next song was theirs...Unchained Melody and they danced together holding each other close to each other, dancing in the dark.

Elliott giggled like a school girl as he twirled her at the end of the song, giving her a long slow kiss. After several more dances, the two of them sat on the sofa, necking like two young lovers.

"Alright, she sighed coming up for air, "what ever it is ye want...fine. It's alright with me."

"You do not even want to know what it is?" he said, knowing he'd been outed. She knew him too well.

"I suppose, but what ever it is, it's okay."

"No Annushka, this one I need to talk to you about, and if you are against it, then I will not go through with it. This is your decision."

She sat up looking straight at him. "It's serious then is it?"

"Da."

"Alright, out with it," she said, turning up the living room light.

"I have been asked by the Bill Klein to help a Russian scientist defect to the United States."

"Ah that explains why that bastard was at headquarters this morning and why ye were in a foul mood," she said knowingly.

"And how do you know these things," he smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Ah Kuryakin, that's my secret. I have my sources," she whispered.

"So you knew Klein was there and you made no attempt to confront him? I am impressed."

"Ye know...he's just not worth the energy. I said my peace to him that day in Waverly's conference room, though I much rather would have knocked his block off. So what is making you want to take the chance helping him after what was done to ye last time?"*

Illya filled her in on the details of Klein's offer, trying to get her to understand how much it meant to him for their sake that he get his citizenship.

She huffed, then became very quiet for a minute as she thought it over.

"Ye bastard ye, I had a feeling ye were up ta something with these tickets." Elliott pace back and forth for a minute as she calmed herself before speaking any further.

"I don't like it, and I think it's too dangerous for ye ta go back home right now given the KGB has branded ye a traitor and that the U.S.-Soviet relations are very bad and besides that, there's trouble brewing there anyway with the Warsaw pact countries. Ye can't do this, 'tis too much of a dangerous mess, "her voice cracked" ye have two children ta worry about."

"Then I will not accept the mission." He cut her off."And just for your information, I bought those tickets weeks ago. Klein just made his offer, so the two events are completely unrelated."

"Sorry." She was embarrassed now on top of being concerned. "I'm sorry I cursed at ye. I understand how much the citizenship means ta ye, and since ye will be masquerading as yer brother; ye have a great cover? The Soviets don't know he's dead and would have no reason to suspect that it's ye in his place. I may regret this, but I say go fer it. That way the bastards at the C.I.A. will finally have ta leave ye alone. Ah Jay-sus, this'll be dangerous and the risks..." She began to vacillate.

"Will be acceptable. There have always been and will be risks as long as I am still in the field."

"And what about when ye are not?"

"Elliott I do not think that far into the future, I wish after all these years that you and Napoleon would remember this? A future is a luxury to a field agent, you know that. And yet we have dared to try to have a future with each other and having children. That will have to suffice, if I live long enough to think beyond the here and now."

"Don't five me that fatalistic Russian attitude Illya Nickovich. Ye have a few years left in the field, ye will be CEA after Napoleon and ye'll retire to section one! Period!"

"That my love may not hold true, as I have heard rumors that the Continental Chiefs might be considering someone else for the position of Chief Enforcement Agent in New York."

"And how do ye know this?"

"I have my sources, " he smiled at her.

"How can that be, ye are the number two agent and it's yers by right of succession isn't it? And isn't it a little soon for them ta even be thinking about it, I mean Napoleon still has plenty of time in the field."

"Waverly is not getting any younger, I think that is why it is being discussed. Nothing was ever promised or guaranteed when I came to U.N.C.L.E. I was an agent on loan from the Soviet Union and nothing more. It was and is my duty to serve our organization as they see fit, without expecting anything in return...other than a regular paycheck."

"Yes I know that damnation! Ye lived to serve the Soviet people. But when are ye going to let that go? Ye don't live to serve U.N.C.L.E...ye are not their property."

"Annushka, I have served two masters, the Soviet government and U.N.C.L.E. and now I have an opportunity to be free of that servitude and for my family to have me fully, unencumbered by the yoke that has bound me one way or another all my adult life. This is not just for me that I need to do this, but for you and our children as well."

"Ye are not beholding to the C.I.A." she snapped at him.

"Enough!"This was supposed to be a sensible conversation. He walked out of the room, trying to cool off. What should have been a simple discussion with a yes or no answer had escalated into a near argument."

He was tired of being told what to do, and in truth he no longer wished to serve any master. As long as the contract existed with the Directorate he would be a puppet one way or another. U.N.C.L.E. had treated him justly these many years, and he wished to stay with them, but it would be nice to not have a Soviet sword hanging over his head. This could be his only opportunity at gaining his freedom. Then he would truly work for U.N.C.L.E. by choice and not by circumstance.

Since he had been a child in the orphanage in Moskva and through his entire adult life he had been told where to go and what to do and to think. He had very few choices in his life, though he had been able to make a few important ones such as getting married and raising a family, but even those choices were made with U.N.C.L.E. looking over his shoulder.

Elliott and Napoleon too, needed to trust his judgement and even though he had told his wife it was her decision, that was not really true. He really wanted to do this and if the mission succeeded then all of their concerns would be resolved and if it did not succeeded, then so be it. That was the risk he and Elliott had signed up for a long time ago.

Elliott followed after him, wrapping her arms around him."I'm sorry Illuysha, ye are right, this is something that has ta be done. Go fer then, alright?"

Illya was surprised at her change of mind. "Vy ne uvereny v etot raz _you are sure this time?"

"Da ya uveren v etom_ I'm sure."

"Thank you lyubov' moy, I did not think you would be so agreeable after all that was just said." He hugged her to his chest.

"Ah sure, just because I gave ye the go ahead, doesn't mean that I like the idea of it."

"I know, neither do I."

"Yes, but we do as we must, " she muttered, anticipating his words.

"How did you know I was going to say that? He flashed her his crooked little smile.

"I have my sources." she laughed softly.

They went to bed, holding each other quietly. Then Illya kissed her... a long, lingering kiss. Their hands touched their so familiar bodies as they made love to each other slowly, very slowly. There was no sense of urgency, no frenzy, just tender patience and deep passion. Perhaps it was their fear that they both tried to bury that made their love-making so tender, so much so as if they never wanted to let go of each other.

Then as they both lay in the afterglow, Elliott fell asleep in her husband's arms, yet he lay uncharacteristically awake as he mulled things over in his head.

His children had a wonderful mother, and if he died on this mission; he knew it would hurt them but they would survive without him. Just as his own father had taught him the important things in life, he too passed some of that on to Demya and knew that he would help his sister learn right from wrong.

Better he should survive this mission of course and live to come home, but he was already resigned to what ever would be, would be. He was in the hands of destiny now, but would do his best to stay alive.

.

* ref "The Gambit Affair"

** ref "The Mind Control Affair"