Napoleon unlocked his door and reset his alarm system before putting his suitcase in his bedroom. He had just gotten back from visiting his brother and his family in New Hampshire. He and Illya had been given a few days off by the Old Man and since he hadn't seen Anthony in over a year, he decided a visit was long overdue.

He unpacked, changed into sweatpants and long – sleeved T shirt, headed into the living room and poured himself a Scotch neat from the bar. Illya knew he was coming home today and had promised to bring dinner by at six since Napoleon had told him he wouldn't feel like cooking.

Promptly at six, Illya's coded knock sounded on his door. "I'm coming!" When he opened the door, a large shopping bad was thrust into his hands. "What's all this?"

Illya pulled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of one of the easy chairs. "Roast beef heroes, potato salad, Cole slaw, Pepsis. My vodka is in this bag," he said as went into the kitchen to put the bottle in the freezer and grab plates and cutlery. "How was your visit with your family? Did you have a good time?"

"I did. Did a lot of hiking, got lots of fresh air, played touch football with Ant and my nephews; I had a great time. After the kids got on their school bus, Tony, Julie and I had some more coffee before they walked me to my car. I hugged her and kissed her cheek and then, I went to hug my brother and he…he pushed me off and stuck out his hand. He said, 'C'mon, man! What are you doing?'"

Illya, as usual, had wolfed down most of his food while his partner was speaking. "Anthony would not let you hug him? What did you do?"

"What could I do? I shook his hand, got in my car and left." He had passed on the soda Illya had bought and stuck with his Scotch. He refilled his glass at his bar and sat on the couch. He looked at Illya and smiled. "I'm glad I do what I do, but I forget sometimes that not all men are like us."

"What do you mean?"

"Working for the Command, it makes me appreciate things that civilians take for granted. Ant hadn't seen me in a year and he couldn't hug me goodbye?! Regular guys with regular jobs seem to be afraid of intimacy. I wanted to hug my brother and tell him I love him; what was the big deal? He acted like I was trying to mount him!"

"American men, compared to Russians are, what is the new phrase? Uptight? Yes, American men comparatively speaking are very uptight when it comes to physical affection between them. It is almost like they think they can catch homosexuality somehow."

Napoleon took a long draw of his drink and sighed. "It's sad. I don't mean to sound morbid, but doing the work that we do means that sometimes we don't know if we're going to be alive an hour from now. I may never see Ant again. Hugging him was important to me and he wouldn't let me do it!"

Illya took the dishes to the kitchen and placed them in the sink before pulling his vodka from the freezer and getting a glass from the cupboard. "Napoleon," he said as he re – entered the living room, "I am sorry you were not able to show your affection to Anthony, but to be fair to him, he does not know what you really do for a living, does he?" At the CEA's head shake he said, "He does not realize how close to the edge you walk, so he feels justified that he does not have to show his feelings for you. You are the younger brother; he probably thinks you will always be there."

"I guess," Napoleon replied.

Illya watched his partner as they sat and sipped their drinks. He could tell that Napoleon was really bothered by what had happened (or not happened) with his brother. When he finished his drink, he decided to take action. "Stand up, Napoleon." He put his glass on the coffee table and stood.

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Do you have a problem with my request?"

Napoleon shook his head. "Not really, but to be accurate; that was an order, not a request."

"Stopped splitting hairs and stand! Now!" The Russian huffed in exasperation. "Why are you such a blockhead?"

"Okay, I'm up! Now what?" He was surprised when Illya stepped up close to him.

"Now, we hug. I am not Anthony, but I am your brother in arms, am I not?"

Napoleon smiled broadly. "You are," he said before hugging his partner. He hugged him the way he had wanted to hug Anthony; warmly and affectionately. He could feel himself relaxing as the hug lengthened.

Illya sighed contentedly. He had never completely understood how British and American men were so cut off from one another emotionally. He was grateful that Napoleon had always been open with him and insisted that he be the same with him. He finally patted the American on his back as a signal to break the hug.

"Thanks, Partner," Napoleon said as he dropped his arms and stepped out of Illya's personal space. "And just so you know, you are not my brother in arms. You are my brother. Period."