Okay, he's not Santa, but he did have a very good reason for breaking into the house.
Illya crouched down in front of the window and touched a pane lightly. He was better as a second story man, but the object of his search was dead ahead, nestled happily beneath a glowing Christmas tree.
It seemed wrong to break in with the sole purpose of stealing a gift, but somehow, as always, it fell to him to correct the error.
"Where is it?" His partner was frantically tearing through a pile of unwrapped gifts that littered his living room.
"Where is what?" Illya finished taping the end of his package shut and pushed it aside. He was wrapping, Napoleon was in charge of bows.
"I had a… special gift. It was for my Secret Santa."
"Then it has to be here." Illya gestured to the wrapped gifts. "Nothing has left your apartment."
"Except for the gifts I gave to Mrs. Waverly for herself and Mr. Waverly… oh, no…"
"Napoleon… what do you mean, oh no?"
Sadly, it meant on Christmas Eve he would be outside Mr. and Mrs. Waverly's house, staring in and looking for a certain package. Spotting it only complicated his life. He moved slowly to the alarm console and opened his communicator.
"Open Channel B, please. Security."
"Security."
"Kuryakin here. I'm going to be running a test on Mr. Waverly's security system. It will flash red, twice, then go green. It will probably take me about fifteen minutes to finish my calibrations. I will signal you at the end."
"Understood."
Illya dug a small device out of his pocket. It effectively took the alarm system off line and permitted him time to enter.
He carefully removed a small pane of glass and slipped his arm through it to unlock the window. He held his breath for a moment until he got the window opened and closed without incident.
The rest, as they say, was a piece of cake. He was reaching for the gift when a voice stopped him.
"You seem rather slim for Santa Claus."
Illya's eyes widened when he recognized his boss's voice. "Sir." He turned around slowly, just in case Mr. Waverly had a weapon.
"Mr. Kuryakin. I'm sure you have an outrageously reasonable excuse why you have broken into my house on Christmas Eve."
"I'm sure I do, sir, but I will stick to the truth. Napoleon, Mr. Solo, mixed up presents and gave you his Secret Santa one. "
"I'm taking it that it's inappropriate?"
"To say the least." He tried to look his sheepish best. "I brought the correct gift to replace it. He held up a similarly wrapped gift of the same shape and size.
"Your story is so banal, it has to be true. Go on, Mr. Kuryakin." He turned to leave. "Make sure the alarm system is working when you leave and if you would be so kind as to use the front door? And replace the window on your way out."
"Yes, sir."
"We will see you at one for dinner."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
The next morning, Illya sat with his legs outstretched to the fire. As far as he was concerned, this was what Christmas was all about, warmth and a full belly. Gifts were okay, but this was better.
"So, are we okay?" Napoleon asked as he sat down and offered Illya a glass of wine.
"Why wouldn't we be?"
"Last night. Your gift exchange?"
"Word travels fast."
"You have no idea."
"Alexander, my love, this is from our Mr. Solo." Mrs. Waverly handed a package to Mr. Waverly and he smiled.
"Now let's see what is in this…" his voice trailed off as he looked into the package. "My word!"
"Mr. Solo."
"Crap, I had them right all along, didn't I?"
Illya just closed his eyes and smiled. Tis the season…