"My my, you're not looking well at all my dear...I heard you had a little difficulty with the STASI recently? I hope it wasn't too painful? They can be so thorough can't they, so how are you holding up...I hope you can still rise to the occasion darling?"

Illya rolled his eyes wondering if the entire espionage world knew his business...and of his humiliation. He showed his annoyance by simply frowning at her. "I repeat Angelique, what is it you want?"

"Always right to the point aren't you, never any foreplay at all, you know all work and no foreplay makes for a dull boy? Here I am trying to make polite conversation with an old friend and you treat me so shabbily."

"Angelique when it comes to you and I, the word friendship hardly applies; especially after the last trick you pulled on us in East Berlin?"*

She clicked her tongue at him, already finding the Russian bothersome.

"Well Illya darling, if you must know; I was in town for a few days between jobs so to speak and thought I'd visit dear Napoleon, but I don't seem to be able to find him. Do you know where he is?"

"He is out of the country and will be back tomorrow; but where he is at the moment; I would not tell you." he modulated his voice, conveying to her a seriousness to his words; then realized mentioning when Solo was returning had been a mistake. That was careless of him. Given his current state of mind and the fact that he was so distracted by it; he would have to remind himself to keep up his guard, especially where this woman was concerned.

She laughed. "How true, you and I have never mixed well have we?" She ran her finger aimlessly around the lid to the potful of green tea that sat on the table "Oh Illya don't you ever just relax? Napoleon has learned how to do it so well."

"I am not like Napoleon, nor will I ever be," he retored. Yet he could not resist to seize the opportunity to play 'cat and mouse' with her; trying to find out what she might be up to.

"Have you eaten...would you care to join me for lunch?"

Angelique was surprised at the Russian's invitation; it being seemingly out of character for him.

"Why Illya Kuryakin, I think there is hope for you yet mon cher? She batted her large, beautiful eyes at him. "But sadly I must decline, perhaps another time n'est pas?"she said offering her hand to him as she rose gracefully. Illya took her graceful hand in own hand and in a very Napoleon moment, kissed it; then watched Angelique as she walked seductively out of the restaurant.

Illya growled in revulsion as if he had just kissed a corpse, then quickly wiped his lips with a napkin, wondering how in the hell Napoleon could involve himself with her. It was the one thing to sleep with one's enemy to facilitate the completion of a mission, but to have an on-going affair with a woman that would kill him in the blink of an eye...that rationale escaped him completely.

Illya looking at his meal in disgust, now having lost his appetite; he asked for it to be packaged to go, but promising Mr. Lee he would return again. He left the restaurant, scanning the street carefully for the Thrush agent, or any one else who looked suspicious for that matter, then hailed a taxi to head home.

Once he arrived, he pulled his communicator, suspecting that it was near midnight in Porto Villa in Vanuatu; Napoleon was more than likely enjoying the company of a local melanisian beauty, though not in the biblical sense, or so he said...not since he became engaged to Bella Graziani.

Surprisingly his partner had remained true to her, which deep down inside surprised even the Russian; being all too familiar with Napoleon Solo's inumerable amorous adventures over the years. As his partner had once joked, it was such stuff as legends were made of. Yet in spite of that he belived his partner to be a man of honor.

"Open channel D, overseas relay-Solo."

"Solo here," he answered with a husky voice.

"Enjoying the weather?"

"If I were out in it I suppose, but I'm actually in bed. So you didn't call to discuss the weather did you?"

"Can you talk?"

"Yes... I'm alone if that's what you're trying to find out and why are you calling me at this hour, checking up on me? I have a very early flight back to New York in the morning and you just woke me out of a sound sleep, so this better be good?"

"My are we grumpy? I thought that role was usually reserved for me. So you have just answered several of my questions without having to ask and to answer yours, Angelique DuChien is in New York and looking for you, I thought you would like to know? I suspect it is not entirely for a social call."

"Angelique, really?"

Illya could practically hear his partner grinning in the pause that followed and he knew that he had gotten his full attention.

"Honestly Napoleon, I do not understand this relationship you continue to have with this woman after she has betrayed you...us, time and again. Are you going to continue your dalliances with that creature, now that you have Bella in your life?

"Illya, I have my reasons. And as to whether or not my associations continue with her...well we'll leave that as my business? Look, thanks for the heads up, I'll contact you once I'm back at headquarters." Napoleon hesitated for a moment as if he were not sure he should ask, " How are you doing?"

"Fine, I am just fine."

Napoleon was tired and didn't feel like delving into the fact that meant his partner was still not doing well...

"Yeah right. It's been a long day, I have to get back to sleep. Out."

Illya closed the communicator, laying it down on the kitchen table, then stashed the take-out into the refrigerator as he sighed, shaking his head at Napoleon's cavalier attitude. He was good at all these sorts of games, where as he was not. He knew he possessed many talents that his American partner did not; that was why Waverly had paired them as partners so many years ago for that very reason. The were good at what they did as individuals but as partners...that was what made them the best in the organization.

For the most part he knew Napoleon well, his life story, and had met his family. Napoleon had never hesitated speaking to him about personal matters; yet there were things about the man he would probably never understand. But what did Napoleon really know about him? Just bits of information that he had let slip over the years. He had let Solo become more privy to his life after he had met Elliott, but he had always hidden his past from his best friend, under the mantra that 'the less people know about you, the longer you live'. But was that really true when it came to Napoleon...or was it his pity that he feared, of seeming less in his partner's eyes? It was only with Elliott he had shared details of childhood and how he grew up, but even she did not know everything.

But with Napoleon, for some reason he guarded his past with a ferocious tenacity and yet he he still had regarded Napoleon more as a brother than his partner or a friend. But in spite of that lack of knowledge, Napoleon Solo could read him like a book. Giving Napoleon his trust with his life was all his partner seemed to need of him.

But now Illya was questioning if he still had the wherewithal to even continue to continue as a partner to Solo much less function as an agent,beside questioning his abilities to be a good husband and father. He had never felt so lost and confused in his entire life.

Waverly knew what each of them lacked the other made up for, but Illya now felt that he was lacking more than ever. He was once confident and self-assured of himself, sometimes even to the point of cockiness but now he was not sure of anything.

He laid down on the livingroom sofa feeling quite exhausted and this from doing little to nothing. He closed his eyes and drifted quickly off to sleep.

Elliott entered the vestibule with Demya in her arms having brought him upstairs from Auntie Olga's apartment in the basement. She entered the alarm code, setting her son down as soon as they were inside.

"Illusysha? Are ye home?" she called out. She had not seen or heard from him at headquarters even though she was aware he was there for his therapy. She was not surprised though as he was keeping to himself, trying to work things out. This last mission had given him terrible scars both physical and emotional, affecting him more than any other since she had known him. But this was different from an assignment that had gone bad, those he would brood over for a few day but then when he had worked it out in his head; he came back to her. But this time he was not coming back to her...he was caught in the personal suffering he experienced from this one.

Illya's eyes opened wide as soon as he heard the lock click open on the front door and watched quietly as his son peeked around the corner into the living room.

The boy had become quite astute at reading his father's moods. He walked into the room straight up to Illya, climbing on the couch with him, not saying a word until his father draped his arm around him.

"Papa, don't be so sad. You didn't do anything wrong."

Illya closed his eyes as the tears began to fall. He knew that was the truth...out of the mouth of babes, yet he could not face accepting it.

Elliott stood quietly watching Illya, crying as he held their son. She had told him time and again that he needed to let the pain go and would not repeat it again. He was going to have to solve this himself and realized that nothing she said or did would help wanted so badly to hold him, comforting him but she knew that wasn't what he needed. She too had to fight off the feelings of sadness, and prayed that she wasn't losing her husband to his pain and depression.

Demya reached up with his small hand, patting his father's cheek, wiping the tears away; imitating what his parents did for him when he cried. " Would you like a cookie papa?"

Illya let out little laugh, then sniffled as he sat up, hugging Demya to him. "Thank you Demyachka, you are a very kind boy, do you know that?"He looked up, seeing Elliott standing in the door way watching him, but said nothing.

Illya spent the night on the couch, even though he knew that upset his wife, but he could not bring himself to lay next to her feeling so disconnected. Either way, it was not fair to her...something else to add to his list of burdens that seemed to be becoming heavier as each day passed.

The next morning he left, not even seeing his family; walking across the street to the part, then finally he hailed a taxi; going to headquarters in the afternoon. Illya greeted Wanda politely as she sat at the reception desk at the agents entrance, but today he did it without a smile as she handed him his badge.

"Has Napoleon arrived yet?"

"No Illya as a matter of fact he's very overdue. He contacted us when his plane landed at JFK but we haven't heard from him since. He was supposed to come straight here?"

That did not bode well in Kuryakin's mind as he headed up to Waverly's office.

As always, the door opened silently as he entered.

"Mr. Kuryakin, what the devil are you doing here? You are not due until Thursday for your therapy and appointment with Dr. Mansur, if I am not mistaken...and don't try to deny that you were haunting the halls here yesterday. You are on not authorized for light duty.

"But sir..."

"Don't but sir me young man. What part of medical leave don't you understand?" Waverly seemed quite annoyed at him.

"Mr. Waverly," Kuryakin raised his voice slightly, "Sir I believe Mr. Solo may be in trouble?"

"And how would you know this?" he said, tapping his pipe in the ashtray; now giving his agent his full attention.

"Last night in Chinatown I encountered Angelique DuChien and she was looking for Mr. Solo. She tried to get me to reveal his where abouts. I am afraid I let slip that he was due back today and now he is overdue. Yet he reported that he would be coming directly to headquarters."

"Was Mr. Solo made aware of Miss DuChien's presence?"

"Yes sir that I spoke to him around midnight."

"This is indeed troublesome," Waverly said now popping the mouthpiece of his pipe into his mouth. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention; I'll assign agents to look into this immediately."

"But Mr. Waverly I can..."

His boss cut him off. "You are not to get involved Mr. Kuryakin, remember you are on medical leave and for a good reason and that's final. You are not permitted back in this building until Thursday morning to keep your appointments. When you are finished; you are to leave the premises and go home."

Illya Kuryakin left the conference room in a huff and as decent has he had been to Wanda coming into headquarters; he was rude to her on the way out, throwing his badge on the desk as he walked out without a word.

"You have a nice day too Illya," she called to him sarcastically.

Napoleon having gone missing had made him forget about his own problems for the moment as he now focused on the issue at hand. If Alexander Waverly thought for one moment that he would stand idly by and let others search for his partner; he was sorely mistaken.

Illya arrived home with a plan already formulated in his head as he picked up the telephone, dialing a private telephone number back at headquarters, ringing several times before it was answered.

"George Dennell here, how can I help you?"

"George, it is Illya...I need your help."

* reference to "The East Berlin Affair"