Prompted by: A Casualty ~Robert Service

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Oh, I've thought and I've thought of him all the day.

Illya lay in medical; out cold for days now. One of his explosives

caught him unawares...a defective timer. He barely got away.

And now he was laying here, bandaged and plaster-casted.

There was eye movement under those lids of his, and I hoped that was a good sign.

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Blown off by a bomb. . . . So, lad, go slow,

His eyes finally fluttered open; asking what had happened to him.

"You don't remember?"

"Nothing..."

"Your timer went off early.

"Timer?"

"You don't remember trying to blow up the satrap?"

"Nyet."

"Do you recall anything?"

"I remember we went to the 21 Club last night."

"Illya we haven't been there in six months..."

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"Tell me, old chap, have I `copped it' bad?"

The look on Illya's face was one of total bewilderment.

"Napoleon, I remember like it was yesterday...are you sure you

are not just playing a joke on me," he huffed.

"Sorry chum no joke. You really took a bad hit to your head...look at yourself.

You blew yourself up."

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'Twould be hard to get knocked out now, you know."

You were lucky and could have been blown to bits. Maybe you're developing a bit of Kuryakin luck...at least when it comes to explosives.

"What happened?"

Napoleon hesitated, "Can't tell you. The doctors don't know about your memory lapse, and they need to know."

"To blazes with them, Napoleon I need to know."

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Says I: "Is there nothing that I can do?"

Illya looked at himself, taking stock. "I do not remember it all...perhaps you can fill me in on the details of the mission? That might help me remember at least something. It is very unsettling...losing part of one's life."

Napoleon crinkled his nose, pausing in thought. "Let me ask the doctor first."

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My feet, please wrap 'em - they're cold . . . they're cold."

Medical approved. Napoleon's hesitated to tell him an innocent died in the explosion. A woman who was just passing the building...

Illya turned cold at that news; rolling over with his back to Solo.

He said nothing, but the look in Illya's eyes said it all. Napoleon let him be.