They moved more slowly these days, steadying each other as they walked down the path while the world pushed past them in seeming callousness.
They ran and danced when they were young as time was on their side.
They strode with quiet determination at middle age for they had purpose and reason.
Now, they moved with a calm stoicism to take each moment and make it theirs. And always together.
Seeing his companion falter slightly he knew it was time.
"There's a bench over there, Napoleon. I could do with a rest. How about you?"
"Music to my ears."
The setting sun had warmed the bench and now painting the world golden. Fallen leaves danced a jig to its triumphant journey across the skies.
"Gold," Napoleon said, after they'd been sitting in silence and studying the lake for a few moments. They didn't fear silence between them. It was as familiar and comfortable as an old and much loved companion.
Illya turned to look. His neck was too stiff to twist it. "The day?"
"Your hair. Even after all these years, it's still golden." Napoleon reached out to touch it. His had gone snowy white with age.
"Well, there's quite a bit of silver, too." Illya smiled and caught the hand, no longer steady and strong, but rather now arthritic, but still warm and caring. "Where has the time gone this year? I can't believe it's nearly December."
"The days go too quickly now. I get up and by the time I've dressed, had breakfast, and gotten my shoes on, it's time for dinner and bed."
Illya laughed at that. "I know what you mean. When did we find the time, Napoleon?"
"The time?" He titled his head back slightly to let the sun kiss his face, Illya's hand still on his.
"To save the world." It was said with just a touch of sadness.
"I prefer this." Napoleon smiled back at his partner of nigh so many decades.
"What?" Illya asked. "Sitting here in the sun and wondering if anyone back at the Old Spy's Home is even missing us?"
"Saving each other."
And it was enough.