Though Illya Kuryakin sometimes came across as a stiff necked, inflexible man who rarely showed his emotions, he actually had a soft spot for children, unless of course they were annoying spoiled little brats; it was there his patience with them ended.
Susan Waverly was well known to him, and a delightful young girl. He'd first met her as an infant, having been assigned to watch over the Waverly household while the proud parents were visiting Alexander Waverly and his wife Estelle with the newest arrival to the family.
Mr. Waverly was well aware of Kuryakin's way with little ones, and thought he'd be a good fit for such an assignment. The man knew how to feed an infant as well as handle a dirty nappy with the best of them.
He had a pleasant voice and could rock and sing a fussing child to sleep. Preparing a bottle and feeding were handled with ease as well.
Illya was more than willing on manys the occasion to watch the child while the parents, specifically the mother could get a bit of a break.
When he was only a youngster, Illya helped his mother care for his younger sister Katiya and the infant twins Sasha and Misha. He lost his entire family during the war, but he never forgot the life lessons he learned while helping to care for his siblings.
Over the years he watch Susan and her brother Thomas grow up to be well behaved children who still enjoyed a good story or a game of chess. They'd often request Illya to spend Halloween at their grandparents home where he'd oversee the children while they, in their costumes would 'trick or treat.'
Mrs. Waverly would always have plenty of chocolate on hand for her favorite Russian. At the end of the night Illya would read 'The Raven' for them all, making a perfect end to the holiday.
The children never had nightmares in spite of Illya's dramatic reading of the poem.
Napoleon Solo on the other hand, knew little about child care. Though he was raised with a younger brother and three younger sisters he saw very little of child rearing per se. There were nannies who took care of everything, and the children as a rule were to be seen and not heard.
His parents did a lot of traveling, a his father was in the military and always off to something important around the world. The Solo children were left in the care of their very capable nanny, though Napoleon had other ideas and rather than being left home with his siblings, he would stay with their Aunt Amy who lived nearby during the summer months in her own house.
It wasn't until Napoleon was older that the new nanny caught his interest. She was gorgeous, he was sixteen and full of raging hormones...enough said.
That particular nanny was sent packing as was Napoleon, who was sent off to a military academy.
His father said it would do him good and make a real man out of him, and perhaps it did, well that and entering the military and going off to fight in Korea. Going to war would make or break any boy of becoming a man.
After taking Susan Waverly back to the The National Gallery of Art, the two spend hours together touring the paintings, and statuary while stopping off to discuss ones that caught the girl's interest.
"I think I'd like to learn to paint someday," she wistfully said."Do you paint Illya?"
"No I am afraid I not but I do some sketching...nothing serious though. Did you know that many artists sketch out their paintings on their canvas before applying the many layers of paint. Perhaps you could start with learning to draw. There are certain basic rules that need to be grasped and followed such as perspective and…"
He was interrupted by an announcement over the public address system, informing all visitors that the museum would be closing in ten minutes.
"Oh dear," he looked at his watch."I am afraid we lost track of the time. I'm sorry Susan but it is probably too late to go out for ice cream. Perhaps the hotel kitchen might still be open though."
"That's okay Illya, I don't have to have ice cream. I'm glad I got to do this with you. How do you know so much about art?"
"I read a lot and remember most of it as I have what is known as an eidetic memory. What you might know as a photographic memory."
"I bet that comes in handy,"she giggled.
"It most certainly does, having such a gift as well has having lived in Paris for a few years before I came to work for your grandfather gave me the opportunity to visit the Louvre and the many other galleries around the city."
"That must have been pretty cool living in Paris. I'd like to go there someday."
"If you study art, then perhaps someday you will. I may even see a painting by you hanging in a gallery someday and I will smile, remembering that I knew you when you decided you wanted to become an artist."
"I could give you my autograph and then when I'm favous it would be worth a lot of money," she giggled again
"That I think is putting the horse a bit before the cart Susan," he winked.
As they headed out of the museum through the exterior tall columns, walking down the steps together into the night air, Illya felt the girl slip her hand into his.
It warmed his heart to have the trust of a child like that, and for a brief second he hoped someday he might be lucky enough to have a son or daughter of his own...that was if he lived long enough to retire.
"Illya?"
"Yes Susan?"
"Why aren't you married with kids of your own?"
He rolled his eyes; it was if she'd read his mind but he reminded himself that she definitely was a Waverly, and perhaps had inherited some of that prescience that her grandfather seemed to possess.
"We as agents for your grandfather's organization are not permitted to marry and have children until after we reach retirement age."
"Why?"
He knew that Susan was well aware of UNCLE, though most definitely not the darker side of it. The life of a spy with a licence to kill was not exactly the stuff of which bedtime stories were made.
"Because ours can sometimes be a dangerous job and it would not be fair to leave behind a family if something were to happen to us."
Susan became silent for a moment, the wheels turning in her head. "How old do you have to be to retire? And couldn't you just retire early?"
"Forty, one must be that age. Early retirement is not possible as we have agreed to work until we retire, that is unless we are injured and unable to perform our duties."
"Or if you're killed."
"Yes Susan that too." She deduced that from him merely saying it was a dangerous job. "Impressive," he thought to himself.
As they walked along the lonely mall, Illya planned to catch a taxi to return them to their hotel, and once they reached the street, he whistled loudly.
"How'd you whistle like that Illya?" Susan asked. "My brother is always trying to do it but can't get it right."
"I will show you," he smiled.
"Great, then I can rub it in Thomas' nose that a girl could do it before him. Ha!"
He'd once told Napoleon that he believed in the old European custom of a girl having a dowry when coming to a marriage. His way of thinking had slowly changed as he found he liked strong and independent women, intelligent ones of course. That didn't quite fit with the old fashioned belief about dowries and wives being subservient to their husbands..
A yellow cab immediately appeared curb side and after letting Susan in first, Illya slid in on the seat beside her.
"Where to Mac?"
He gave the driver the name of the hotel, no need for an address as any self respecting driver would know Washington D.C.
"You got it," was the reply.
A second later the locks on the doors closed by themselves and the interior of the cab filled with a noxious green gas.
Through the haze Illya could see the driver had put on a gas mask, that was before Kuryakin passed out with his arms wrapped protectively around Susan.
.
Napoleon returned from his little rendezvous with Luciana...though she preferred to be called was a pleasant enough evening, a light supper after all the kiddies had be tucked in by she and Mrs. Gracey.
Illya was with Susan, so all things were good.
His evening with Lucy was pleasant, just an intimate dinner at one of the city's more exclusive bistros.
As for the romance, he decided after thinking on what Illya had remarked that it was probably best to cool it. He walked Lucy to her hotel room door and they shook hands, though he couldn't resist kissing the back of hers.
That was it. Napoleon actually felt good about it; he knew he didn't have to sleep with a woman to enjoy her company, and besides this was a situation for which discretion was apropos.
The fact that Lucy lived in Connecticut would make it more difficult to manage seeing her, and neither really wanted a longer distance relationship. They left it on cordial terms but she did say if he were ever up her way in Ridgefield to give her a ring.
"Fair enough," he smiled to himself. Napoleon opened the door to the room where he and Illya were bunking together and was surprised there was no sign of his partner.
Given the time of night, he thought that odd and assembling his communicator he tried contacting his partner. Nothing, nada…
The next step was to see Mrs. Gracey to make sure Susan had returned and was tucked in her bed safe and sound.
The den mother opened her door after checking to see it was in the peephole. She was dressed in her nightgown and robe and her hair put up in hair rollers.
"Oh Mister Solo, I'm not fit for visitors at the moment. Is there something I can do to help you?"
"I do apologize for disturbing you at this hour but could you please verify that Susan Waverly is in her room?"
"Oh...OH! I don't recall Mr. Kuryakin telling me he'd returned with her from the museum. Goodness gracious."
She shut her door and charged to the next room, key in hand. As she turned on the light several of the girls woke, shielding their eyes.
"What's wrong Mrs. Gracey?" One asked.
"Nothing child. Susan Waverly? Are you here?"
"She's not Mrs. Gracey, she left with Mr. Kuryakin but didn't come back."
After doing a bed check on the other rooms, Susan was indeed nowhere to be found, and of course Mrs. Gracey began to panic.
"Take it easy, we'll find her. I'm sure Illya is with her and she's fine," Napoleon said, though he thought to himself.' she better be fine, they both better be."