The Man from Yesterday
A Man from U.N.C.L.E. Story
by Darklady
Chapter Thirty-Three - Just another Manic Monday
Rated: PG
****
"What do you want to do today?" Napoleon asks brightly as I finish my third double-expresso.
"I *want* to sleep." I grumble. "What I will do is go back to the library, if you will drop me off there. I still have quite a bit of research to complete. And you?"
"Call back on some of these." He ruffles though his own stack of notes. "Go into town. Check into some real estate. If you plan to stay here we will need to get a place."
"True," I answer. Not that Mark and David are not wonderful hosts, but we cannot impose on them forever. We will need a place of our own. Which means we will have to make some decisions as to where we want to live. Which in my case means finding either a school or a job. Better both. Although, I realize suddenly, the interesting financial news I had been given on Saturday makes employment less of a pressing issue. Still, I can not see myself as a social parasite. I will have to do *something*.
Napoleon reaches for his jacket...but not his shoulder holster.
"You are not wearing your gun?" I ask, shocked.
"I'll keep it in the glove box," he reassures me.
"Very well," I nod. "But remember to turn on your new telephone. I will leave mine on as well." I hesitate, then... "I get nervous, now that Channel D is no longer available."
"Yes, Illya." Napoleon sighs, making a show of tucking the telephone into his pocket, "but neither are our enemies." Dropping a kiss on my forehead, he adds "I'll try to pick you up for lunch. If not I'll call."
"Do that." I answer. "And remember to be early back. We have a party invitation tonight."
"Christ, yes." Napoleon smiles as he tucks his notes into his jacket. "Half these calls are from people who want to meet me there. You know, Illya? Of all the things I never expected to see, I never expected to see a university with an Old Spies Club."
********
It is just after one when Napoleon walks into the library. A bit later than I would have wished to eat, given my disinterest in breakfast, but since he had called I had no real grounds for complaint.
He is carrying a shopping bag. A large, heavy shopping bag.
"I see you found something."
"They had a few rather decent men's shops in town." He answers, taking the chair beside me. "I picked up a few shirts and a suit. Need it for the party tonight."
I give that a moment's consideration. Perhaps I should have asked him to purchase a suit for me as well? No. Mark would have warned me if one was necessary; and left to myself? I am inclined to view the abolition of cufflinks as a major triumph of social justice.
Napoleon makes a space for his packages beside the large stack of notes and xerox sheets in front of me. "How did your research go?"
"Very interesting." I answer. "David was right about the physics department. Santa Barbara is much more advanced them Berkeley."
"You're interested, then?"
"Perhaps." I allow, then add. "I have an appointment with the lab director for lunch tomorrow."
"That's good. If you're going to spend all those years in classes, it should at least be somewhere you enjoy."
I separate part of the papers and hand them over. "David was also right about the phone calls."
"Really?" Napoleon reads rapidly through the xerox sheets.
"I have made up files on all of yesterday's companies. Plus six more that called Mark asking for you today. You should go over them before the party. And Laurence Livermore did call me. The director's secretary said he wanted to have lunch."
"What did you tell her?"
"That I was still active KGB. And that I was living with another man."
Napoleon chuckles. "What did she say to that?"
"That she would get back to me."
"I bet."
"She did." I take off my glasses and tuck them carefully into my jacket pocket. "We are both having dinner with the director and his wife at their home tomorrow night. Some project involving a space-station reactor. But I do not believe we will be interested."
"Why not?" he asks, curious.
"As I recall, Russian space launches are from Siberia," I explain.
"Lousy climate."
"Exactly."
END CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE