Chapter 4

"Illya, what are you doing…." She shouted, but he grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the way he came in. Just as quickly, she pulled her hand back.

"Follow me," she said, pulling him to the front door.

"Are you crazy?" he shouted.

"Sometimes," she answered as they both ran for the door.

Violet took out a device and used it to open the door. He could hear the quick approach of the guards when they exited. He cursed himself for following her out this way. Should have gone through the sewer no matter how unpleasant the task.

On the other hand, something had triggered the alarm. Perhaps the little birdies had used his entry through the sewer.

Now, they were outside and still not out of the woods. Illya could hear fast approaching footsteps. The guards? THRUSH? No time to consider. Hedges lined the sides of the building, so he pushed them inside, providing perfect cover. Moments later, he saw three museum guards run past. Then Illya rose and they both headed towards the parking lot. It was too dangerous to try for his car, because he still believed the sewer had been used by THRUSH. He couldn't chance it.

And Violet was now in danger too. She was obviously not THRUSH. He needed to stick with her and keep her safe.

"Where's your car?" Illya shouted. He figured she had her car in the parking lot because all the cleaning staff had walked that way at the end of their shift.

"Over there!" she shouted, pointing to a white convertible, top down.

"Couldn't you have a more practical car?" he said, still running towards it. They would be on display like participants in a parade with the small two-seater.

"It could come in handy considering a certain smell in the air," she countered back.

Illya was just about to say something when two men stepped in front of them. One was a tall man with red hair, the other just as tall and barrel chested. Their lack of uniform meant they were not museum security, which meant he and Violet were both in trouble.

The men were considerably larger than Illya. And no doubt aware of their advantage over the slight Russian and petite woman.

Normally, this would serve to give him an advantage. Many underestimated him due to his size. But this time he was not alone. Even if he were lucky enough to take one of the men out, the other could attack Violet.

He grabbed Violet's hand, pulling her behind him.

"Run," he shouted.

But instead of running, Violet stepped to his side. He was with a crazy woman.

"Run, I tell you."

"I'll take Red," she shouted.

And Illya wondered where she planned to take him.

Then their opponents were in front of them, smiling, looking self-assured.

"Hand over the microdot," the red head shouted.

"Not in this life," Illya countered.

"Have it your way."

Then the brown-haired agent threw a punch meant to land soundly against Illya's head, but the slight blond managed to duck, coming up at the last minute with several punches to the larger man's stomach. He then countered with a blow to the jaw. The man bent over, then threw a punch that nearly knocked Illya off his feet. Thoughts of Violet being killed by Big Red provided Illya with the adrenalin surge he needed. He managed to grab the man and landed one final punch to the side of his head. He was grateful to see him fall unconscious to the ground.

Illya turned just in time to see Violet leap in the air, spinning as her foot connected to Big Red's head, knocking him to the ground. He lay motionless.

Violet was a martial arts expert!

No time to ask questions. Illya saw two men racing towards them. Neither wore uniforms. Illya and Violet ran for the car. He needed to get them to headquarters. He was about to give her directions when she started up the car and floored it, smoke rising behind them.

"Who are you?" he shouted as she sped down the streets.

"Violet Westerly."

Illya spared a glance behind them and noticed two cars gaining speed.

"We've got company," he shouted as he removed his pen communicator. "Open channel D."

He heard the connection click and Waverly's voice. "We're being pursued," he shouted as Violet made a quick turn. "In need of help."

"Violet here. Route 223.5," she shouted as they rounded another corner.

Illya nearly dropped the pen. Route 223.5 was the code number for the direction they were traveling to reach UNCLE headquarters. Was it possible he hadn't been informed of a new Uncle agent? It didn't seem likely.

Illya replaced the pen in his jacket.

"I'm a private detective who was hired to obtain some compromising letters my client left in the cake sculpture her husband donated to the museum." Violet spared him a glance. "I can't tell you anything else about my client, but I can tell you that it is going to take months to get the smell out of my car. What on earth happened to you?"

Illya was still at the private detective part when she added that final bit. "Well, I lacked the necessary equipment to impersonate the cleaning staff," he said, referring to the fact that the entire staff consisted of women.

Violet laughed, turning another corner, then crossing the interception, redlight be damned. Illya was glad the streets were deserted. He looked behind him and saw a large black van pull out of the alley they'd just passed, cutting off their pursuers. UNCLE to the rescue.

Violet didn't slow down until they reached headquarters.

She parked the car in front of Del Floria's tailor shop. And they both got out and Violet unpinned her hair, shaking silky blond hair that reached her shoulders.

Illya only hoped he wasn't standing there with his mouth hanging open. She was gorgeous.

"Let's get inside," she said and headed for the door.

Inside, Violet greeted Del like she'd known him forever. The man beamed, holding her hands and looking at her like a kindly uncle.

Nothing made sense to Illya regarding the beautiful blonde.

What did make sense was his appearance. If she were a new recruit, this would hardly impress Waverly to see him covered in dirt and smelling like a skunk. Already he noticed Del staring at him, and squinching his nose in disgust.

Illya headed for the dressing room. At least he had successfully completed the mission.

Violet joined him as he opened the entry to UNCLE headquarters, Illya still desperately seeking a way to clean up before meeting with Waverly.

Sadly, it was not to be. He found his boss standing on the other side of the dressing room a smile on his face and his arms open. For one crazy moment Illya wondered if the man was going to hug him. Just as quickly Violet stepped forward and into his bosses' arms.

"Violet. You didn't tell me you were coming this way."

"Uncle Alexander. You know how I like to surprise you."

And both walked away, arm in arm, leaving Illya standing there with his mouth open.

He finally remembered where he'd seen her. It was a family portrait in Waverly's home during the annual Christmas party three years ago.

EPILOG

Illya sat on the veranda of the Victorian house, a cold glass of Vodka in his hands, his best friend at his side.

It was a sultry evening, the moon splashing silver on the Queen Anne Victorian. Illya was grateful for the screened-in porch which not only protected them from mosquitos, but THRUSH bullets as well. The windows and screens were all bullet proof, courtesy of UNCLE technology.

So now, he was completely relaxed as he related his adventure with Violet Westerly.

"I'm telling you, Napoleon. She took out a man twice her size. She didn't even seem nervous."

His partner raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you like her."

"Of course not, Napoleon. I'm merely critiquing her superb martial arts skills."

Napoleon gave him a wry look which Illya decided to pretend he hadn't noticed.

"She is beautiful," Napoleon said.

Illya put his glass on the table, looking at his partner, more than uncomfortable that he may have had a romantic past with the beautiful blonde.

Napoleon shook his head. "Now, partner mine, don't go getting your panties in a bunch."

Illya stared at him, not understanding why he would consider such a thing, still picturing his partner with Violet and not wanting to admit how much it disturbed him.

"I met her a few years ago at Waverly's Christmas party," Napoleon continued. "You know, the one you managed to weasel out of."

Illya nodded. He couldn't help if he hated socializing at those things.

"Well, Violet was there. We struck up a conversation about her detective agency and how it was so difficult for a woman to be taken seriously in the field."

Illya sat back, still eyeing his partner with suspicion. It would be a rare day for Napoleon to not make a play for a woman who looked like Violet."

"And that's all," his partner said. "I'm not crazy. Waverly would have my head if I went after his niece. And I suggest you consider the same thing, tovarish."

Illya picked up his drink, twirling it his hands as he looked at it. "Who says I'm thinking of her in that way."

"You don't have to say it."

"I'm surprised I haven't heard of her detective agency," Illya said, hoping to distract his partner from what he'd just said. "There aren't that many women in that line of work and I've never heard any of them with her name in New York."

Napoleon smiled broadly. "Well, that's where I come in. I told her that one of the challenges she faced was her name. Violet sounds like a lady who sips tea. A delicate flower type. Not someone you'd hire as a private eye."

Illya had an idea where this was going.

"So, I told her to pick a nickname and use it for the agency."

Illya knew of only one detective agency headed by a woman in New York. He couldn't see why he hadn't figured it out before. But then, maybe he had been just a little distracted.

"Honey West," Illya said, looking at his partner.

Napoleon nodded his head. "You got it. H West Detective Agency. I heard she's doing quite well."

Illya thought back to their adventure. She was talented, beautiful, and he had to get her out of his mind or spend his career dodging Waverly. That is, if he even had a career.

"Hey," Napoleon said. "She still got that Ocelot?"

"You mean that man-eating cat?"

Napoleon laughed.

"Yes," Illya said. "It slipped into my apartment. It's how we met."

Napoleon looked confused. "You mean. She's your neighbor?"

"Yes."

"In your building?"

"It is the usual way it is done."

Napoleon whistled, shaking his head. "Tovarish, you are in deep trouble. I don't envy you having the temptation of the beautiful Honey West as a neighbor."

Illya took a sip from his glass, recalling Waverly's comment about how easy the affair would be.

But now, it was anything but.

An easy affair indeed!

Fin

A/N: I've always believed that the character of Honey West would have made a better entry in the MFU universe than April Dancer. This is my attempt at doing just that.

Honey West aired for one season in 1965-1966 and can be seen on YouTube. I've made changes to the character, including moving her from the west coast to the east coast, but the Ocelot and the car remain.

Please review.