Previously: Her and her father's relationship had at least finally been given some closure, and she should have known better than to think everything would turn out fine. She feels a warmth on her back as Illya's hand guides her away from the command centre and to a boat that will transfer them to the mainland.
Six Months
Chapter 10
When they arrive back at the hotel, Waverly gives her twenty minutes to gather her things before she is due to meet him at his room for a talk. She suspects he intends to tell her about what is going to happen next, and she thinks it will likely involve transportation to London and some more training. Now that she has fulfilled her side of their bargain he needs to do his own part, but she is not stupid enough to think this will be the end of her career as an MI6 agent. She has done well this mission, Waverly will not be quick to give her up so easily. She and Illya look at each other with regret as they realise they likely won't have time to talk, and she throws dresses haphazardly into her case, wanting to have as much time with him as possible to say a proper goodbye. She finishes relatively quickly, but before she can celebrate a short phone call reveals they have even less time than they thought.
"All packed? The bellboy is on his way up." She tells him, trying to hide her annoyance, as she hangs up the phone.
"It's time to go home." Illya says, voice tinged with resignation as he closes his own case. "How about you?" He enquires.
"MI6 have arranged for a flat for me in London." Gaby says honestly and hesitates. "I'm sorry that I never told you about being a British spy, I really wanted to." She holds his gaze as she speaks, wanting to communicate as much sincerity as possible. He hasn't really said anything about how he feels about her being a spy, in fact he has taken it surprisingly well. She can't help but wonder if he does resent her for it.
"I suppose that is the reason why you were not angry at me for being KGB?" He asks, she gives him a small smile in response.
"It would have been very hypocritical of me if I had been." She replies truthfully. They have both lied to each other, and neither really can hold it against the other. She imagines he probably felt the same momentary anger and betrayal that she felt when she first suspected his actual job, but like with her his was quick to fade once he remembered his own deception.
"I'm sorry about your father." He says quietly, and she lets her gaze fall to the floor as she shrugs. The emotional impact of it is still quite fresh, but she's finding the news quite difficult to really accept.
"I lost him a long time ago." It is difficult to feel grief over someone she barely knew, there is still a void in her life where her father should have fit but it has been empty for far too long than his momentary presence could mend. Illya moves over to comfortingly squeeze her shoulder before he seems to suddenly remember something.
"I forget, I got you something." He rummages around a pile of items on the floor until he rises again, triumphantly brandishing a small piece of paper. When he hands it to her, she sees that it was the photo of her and her father that she saw in the laboratory. It is strange to think that her father has had it all this time and she is glad that she gets the chance to keep this memory of a long-forgotten time. She looks up at him gratefully, but he speaks again before she has the opportunity to thank him. "Cowboy has invited us for a drink up in his room, if you would like." Her smile turns to a slight frown as she realises she can't accept the invitation.
"I have to see Waverly." Her time is nearly up, she turns to grab her case but remembering the ring still on her finger she moves to face him again, already twisting the ring off. "In case we don't see each other again." He takes it from her and gives it a pensive look.
"No." She is too surprised to resist as he places it back on her finger. "You should keep it, as souvenir. And that way I can keep track of you." She almost hits him, but instead chokes out a laugh.
"So this is goodbye." She says, smiling weakly at him. He looks like he wants to kiss her, and if she is honest with herself she wants him too as well. But she stops him anyway, the tips of her fingers pressing against his mouth as he leans down. "We shouldn't make this more difficult for ourselves."
He nods understandingly and steps back. The gap between them suddenly feels insurmountably wide, and before Gaby quite knows what she is doing, she has wrapped her arms around him in a final embrace. "I love you." She whispers into his ear, a confession that is only meant for his ears and not for any of the listening devices Solo may have placed in the room.
"I thought we were trying to avoid making this difficult." Despite his words, she can see that her admission of the depths of her feelings has made him happy. She thinks that it may have been worth saying, even if it means it will take both of them longer to move on.
"I know, but I owed you that." He doesn't have to ask her what she means by such a cryptic comment, he already knows. Their previous goodbye is still a fresh wound that hasn't yet stopped bleeding.
When Gaby heard about the sudden series of arrests at her lover's workplace, she knew that Viktor would soon be leaving Berlin. He had never directly confirmed her suspicions that he was a spy, he hadn't needed to and after the argument they had nearly a month before, she had not wanted to pry and risk casting a dark shadow over their last few weeks together. She knew that he had been involved in the sudden downfall of the company, his job as an accountant would have given him plenty of access to the accounts and likely to other incriminating evidence.
She had not been surprised when he appeared at her door, looking more grim than happy to see her. She knew what he had come to say, so she had not let him speak. She tackled him to the floor, accidentally knocking a vase off a nearby table and kissed him hard before he could speak. He was too surprised to resist her, and too unwilling to stop her. They didn't make it to the couch or the bed, the floor wasn't particularly comfortable but it wasn't a big enough concern for them to stop and move.
When they had finished, he said something in Russian, and for a moment she had been furious at herself for never bothering to learn the language. Before she could ask for a translation, he had picked her up and carried her to her bedroom, pulling the covers over both of them.
"What did that mean?" She asked once they were comfortably tangled together.
"What did what mean?" He played dumb. She imitated him, probably butchering the language as she did so, judging by his laughter. He repeated the words correctly, and she elbowed him in irritation when he 'forgot' to tell her the German equivalent.
"It means, 'I love you'." He told her eventually. He repeated the Russian again, but this time with an additional word.
"What does that mean?" She said the additional word.
"That means 'goodbye'." The tears came quickly and quietly, but even with her attempts at hiding it, he still noticed, and his large thumbs carefully wiped them away. "No tears." He ordered her gently.
"No tears." She echoed, and kissed him gently before burrowing into the covers and pulling his arm over so it was slung across her waist. When she woke up the next morning, the bed was cold and he was gone.
The phone rings and the door opens, jarring both of them from the memory they had been lost in. As Illya answers the call, Gaby seizes the distraction and slips out of the door before he can notice her leave. She allows herself to lean back against the door for a moment to regain her composure, and then she goes to speak to Waverly as requested, certain that is the last she will see of Illya.
Less than ten minutes later she is returning to Solo's room, accompanied by a very smug Waverly. She is so happy that she feels like she might burst and it is taking a remarkable amount of strength for her to maintain her professional demeanour. The two men are sitting on the balcony, drinking whisky. A plume of smoke catches her attention and her eyes are drawn to the ashtray on the table which is currently occupied by something so burnt it is unrecognisable, but before she can give it much thought, a glint of metal brings her gaze to Illya's previously bare wrist. His father's watch is back in place. She knows that he hasn't suddenly found it as she is sure that she would have noticed him wearing it back in their room. The only possibility is that Solo, thief extraordinaire, has somehow managed to recover it. She feels a burst of affection and gratitude for him, such a gesture will have meant a lot to Illya.
"Good evening, gentleman." Waverly is as polite as ever. "A touching scene. Nice view, a glass of whisky, and a little bonfire to keep you warm. Rather a good idea." He looks at them, a hint of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "So I have news, a fresh little unpleasantness has arisen that I've spoken to your superiors about, and now that we're all such good friends they've kindly agreed to let me keep the team together for a little while." Solo and Illya both look rather astonished at the sudden development, and she wonders whether their reaction has anything to do with the phone call Illya answered before she left. "We leave in an hour."
"Where are we going?" Illya manages to ask.
"Istanbul, Kuryakin. You'll need your curly wurly shoes." Waverly remarks in his usual dry manner. "Oh and you have a new codename."
"Codename?" Napoleon asks.
"Yes, rather a good one: U.N.C.L.E."
Without anything further to say, Waverly leaves and is quickly accompanied by a confused Solo, who is trying to get some more answers from him about their unexpected assignment and what reason the CIA could have not to drag him straight back to America. Unexpectedly, their departures leave Gaby and Illya alone and she advances towards him with a bright look in her eyes.
"It isn't quite goodbye, anymore." She says, reaching for his hands so their fingers can intertwine together.
"Not yet anyway." He says, looking more pleased as the news finally sinks in. "How much time do you think we have?"
"Time before Napoleon gets back or time before we have to return to our respective agencies?" She asks with a mischievous smile. Despite her levity it is a legitimate concern, this mission has given them one week, and now the question is how much longer this one will give them?
"Both." He says with a grin. She removes her hands from his grip and puts her arms around his neck.
"Five minutes maybe, and who knows? Weeks, months, years. It could be anything." She answers, her mind already full of possibilities about the future.
"We should make the most of it then." She isn't sure which he is referring to, and doesn't get to think about it for long as he finally steals the kiss she denied him back in their room. Too distracted, they don't notice the rapidly approaching footsteps and the sudden pause as the door to the balcony opens.
"Uh, you two do realise you don't have to pretend to be a couple anymore?" Solo says awkwardly from the doorway.
END
Author's Note: Well that was fun. The chapter containing all the flashbacks in order (+ a few extra) will be up Saturday. Thanks guys for all the support and reviews, it really does help me keep up the enthusiasm for a fandom and write more. If you guys want more of my writing, I now have 'Sacrifices for the Greater Good' up and I'm doing some work on a drabble series, the first drabble is currently available on AO3 but I'm going to try to build up one or two more drabbles before I post on .