"Excuse me Eileen, "Napoleon spoke to the Section II secretary, "Have you seen Illya lately? I checked and he's not in the lab, and even Security hasn't a clue where he is."
"He's up on the roof," she whispered, as though it was a state secret.
"Eileen, why are you whispering?" He leaned closer, doing the same thing to her.
"I don't think Illya wants people to know he's up there for some reason."
"Oh," Napoleon straightened himself up, shooting his cuffs and tightening the knot on his silk tie." Did he seem...okay to you?" He wasn't surprised Security hadn't spotted him there, given Illya had set up the majority of the new surveillance cameras in the building; the sly Russian knew exactly where the blind spots were...
"To tell you the truth, he didn't...well it's sort of hard to tell with him, but he seemed unhappy."
"Thanks Eileen, you're a doll," Napoleon smiled to her and turned, heading to the elevator. He and his partner's last mission had been a success, no one was hurt, no innocents involved, and that set him to wondering what could have made Illya unhappy. He was prone to bouts of melancholia, but those always had a trigger.
The elevator opened to the top floor of headquarters, revealing a flight of stairs the lead to the secure door and the rooftop. Only security and key personnel had the code to unlock that door, and Solo was one of them.
He stepped out onto the gravel-covered roof top, the crunch beneath his feet no doubt signalling company to the Russian.
Napoleon found him sitting on the ledge of the building, with his legs dangling precariously over the side.
"Hello Napoleon," Illya greeted him, taking a long drag of the cigarette held between his fingers.
"How'd you know it was me? Solo stepped up beside him.
"Only Eileen knew where I was, and I presumed you would have asked her my whereabouts, since Security does not even know I am up here...I suppose that is not a good thing. I had better have more cameras installed to cover those blind spots, especially up here."
"I thought you quit smoking?"
"I did, yet again my body craved the need for one or two more smokes."
"You told me once they calmed the nerves, so what has you feeling the need for them?" Solo sat down beside him, keeping his feet firmly on the surface of the rooftop.
Illya let out a long exhalation. "It is family related, and before you blurt out that I have no family...it is something from my past, that is all."
"Would you like to talk about it? That does help sometimes, believe it or not when it comes to family, I do understand."
Illya snapped at him. "How could you possibly understand when your family is alive and well. Remember mine were all murdered."
"No I suppose I can't, but I do know how I'd feel if I'd lost my family. It would be pretty devastating."
Illya suddenly felt guilty at having lashed out at the man who only had the best of intentions.
"Napoleon, today is the anniversary of my sister Katiya's death at the hands of the Nazis."
"Oh," was all Napoleon could say. He knew more of Illya's sister than he let on, recalling an incident when Illya had been heavily drugged and hallucinated that fateful day when his sister had been burned to death in the family home, just outside of Kiev. Though under the influence of the drugs, the Russian cried like a baby in his arms that night, reliving his childhood terror after they'd escaped a burning THRUSH satrap.*
"Illya, I'm not only your partner, I'm your best friend. You already trust me with your life, why not other things? I'm not only here to cover your back."
"Indeed, why not other things," Illya thought to himself, unsure as to what made him put up this wall between not only Napoleon, but others as well. Lowering his head and his guard just a little he tossed his cigarette into a coffee can left there for butts and he recounted that night his sister died, not knowing Napoleon already knew the story.
"I left Katiya alone in the attic of our small home in search of food, and promised to return. She was very weak from not having enough to eat, and was not making any sort of sound." He paused, composing himself.
"When I did return, the house was being searched by Nazi soldiers. One of them threw a grenade inside as he left and the explosion set the dacha on fire. It went up like a tinderbox, with my helpless baby sister inside. She was nearly four when she perished."
Napoleon watched as his partner struggled to restrain his emotions.
"I could do nothing to save her," he whispered. "Had she lived, Katiya would have been thirty years old in a weeks time. She would have been a beautiful woman," he paused, "she had auburn hair just like my father and my brother Dimitry."
Napoleon refrained from any physical sort of gesture. "Come on tovarisch, I'll take you out for drinks and supper. We can toast to your sister...she is after all in heaven with the rest of your family.
"Heaven Napoleon? Do you really think so?" Illya shifted around to face him, his feet settling on the rooftop.
"It's a matter of faith chum, and right now I know you don't want to believe, so I'll have faith for the both of us."
.
* ref " Bayushki bayu_hush a bye"