That night, as Lyov lay crashed out on his bed, Illya and Napoleon curled up on the rat-torn sofa.

"There is chance they will find us out here." Illya stated out of the blue, looking up at the ceiling.

"Maybe." Napoleon shrugged, muttering a soft apology when he dislodged Illya slightly, "We don't know how the next few days would unfold, or what's going to happen in the future… but I want you both in it… for as long as possible."

Illya turned to Napolleon, staring at him in silence for a few moments, before a small, uncharacteristic smile appeared on his face.

"Did not know you were romantic." He whispered, before falling back into silence.

For a moment, they just lay there, until Illya quietly spoke up again.

"I cannot help but think… that life was much easier before we learnt about all this." He whispered.

"Maybe… but would you change it?"

"… Nyet… Never."

Illya woke up the next morning, appreciating the chill in the air. Slowly, without waking Napoleon, he carefully shuffled out of bed, getting changed and heading towards the door. Opening it up, he stood in the doorway, taking a deep, soothing breath as the snow outside continued to fall.

"Snow! Snow!" A gleeful and shrill voice broke the peaceful silence, as Illya was forced to catch his son before the child could run barefoot out into the snow.

"Shoes first." He ordered, "Frostbite is a terrible thing."

Lyov seemed content with simply watching the snow however, pressing himself up against Ilya's leg as it continued to fall steadily down.

They stood there, watching as the snow started to pile up.

It was then that Ilya remembered that they would be spending their first Christmas together soon.

Lyov's first Christmas ever.

They would have to make it spectacular.

Would Napoleon insist they go to the local church for the Christmas service and carol singing? Or would they stay at home and open presents and watch those terrible Christmas films all day?

Or would be they still be on the run?

"Daddy?"

Ilya glanced down at Lyov, forcing a smile onto his face, "Come. Let us warm ourselves by the fire. I am Napoleon will appreciate the living room being warmed up before he awakens."

"Soft American!"

"Da… soft American."

…..

Unaware of this conversation, Napoleon didn't wake up until he was being bounced on, making him yelp when tiny feet came too close to his delicate areas.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He reached out and grabbed Lyov, pulling him to lie back down on the bed, "What's with all this energy?!"

"Unhand me navy scum!"

Napoleon did, but mostly out of shock as he heard a familiar chuckling from the doorway.

"You were the one who packed the book on pirates." Ilya smirked, watching as Lyov wriggled free of Napoleon's grasp and continued bouncing about, "I added some proper history into the story for education."

"Navy scum!"

"You know…" Napoleon sat up, "…. Most pirates actually used to be in the navy. And some even took commissions from the navy, working with them instead, making them privateers, not pirates."

Lyov 'oohed' in interest, before pointing at the window, "It's snowing!"

"Oh?" Napoleon then started to notice the slight chill in the room, "So it has."

Ilya and Lyov shared a look, and Napoleon just knew that they were both thinking the same thing.

'Soft American'

"Okay, okay." He sighed, "I see how it is."

…..

"It will be Christmas soon." Ilya whispered, watching Lyov playing in the snow.

"Hmm, our first Christmas as parent…. I have so many gift ideas for him." Napoleon then seemed to notice just how tense Ilya was, "What? Has he stopped believing in Santa already?"

"I am not sure he ever did."

Ah… that made sense. Why have a child assassin who still believes in Santa?

"Well…. He'll still get the same number of presents, Santa or not."

"If we are not caught."

"…. If we're not caught."

…..

"Wake up! Wake up!"

Napoleon groaned as a heavy weight suddenly landed on top of him.

"Wake up! Wake up!"

"Where has all this energy suddenly come from?" He whined, rolling over to try and avoid having his delicates jumped on, "You were asleep an hour ago."

He just wanted a little nap with Ilya.

"Up! Up!"

"He usually trains." Illya mumbled sleepily beside him, "Lot of energy to burn off."

Napoleon hated the thought of a five-year-old training to be a KGB assassin, but the idea of Lyov bouncing up and down on their bed to get rid of his energy was even less ideal.

"Alright, alright…" He groaned, "…. Give me five minutes kiddo, and I'll teach you some bona fide American moves."

"Yes!" Lyov somersaulted off the bed and raced out of the room, as Illya chuckled.

"My money is on him."

"Hey!"

As he emerged from the room, he knew that he must still look half-asleep, hair sticking up in all directions.

The sun had barely risen in the sky.

"Come on! Come on!"

"Okay, okay." Napoleon yawned, grabbing two cushions. He had no official boxing equipment, so this would have to do, "Right. Follow my directions and hit these cushions when I say, okay?"

"I know how to hit!"

"But do you know how to hit like a proper gentleman?" Napoleon smirked, "You know how to fight like a wild cat… a trained wild cat, but a wild cat nonetheless."

Lyov pouted.

"Hey, sometimes a surprise punch to the noise is way more effective that leaping at someone." Napoleon then narrowed his eyes, "You don't know how to do that weird nerve thing your Mama does, right?"

"What nerve thing?"

"… Forget about it." Napoleon braced himself, "It's a stupid trick anyway… alright, right fist first!"

…..

"I thought you were teaching him true 'gentlemen' boxing?"

Napoleon glanced away from the small, shitty TV for a moment, "I did… he wore himself out, and now we're watching a true spy classic. James Bond."

Illya sneered at the TV, clearly not thinking much of it as James Bond pressed himself up against the Bond girl.

"He is not doing much spying." Illya critiqued, "In fact, he is not spying at all."

"I distinctly remember us doing this a view times on official missions." Napoleon smirked, "Remember Cairo?"

Illya flushed bright red, as Lyov glanced between them.

"What happened in Cairo?"

"…Watch the movie."