Illya felt unaccountably nervous while preparing to take Alexandra to dinner that night. Although he felt that he knew her quite well by now, it had been some time since he'd actually been on a real date with a woman, not counting women he was required to romance as a means of obtaining information in the line of duty. In addition, he realized that Alexandra was completely unfamiliar with modern-day courting rituals, so he felt especially protective of her.
When he arrived at her home, he saw that she was wearing a sleek black dress that, while of course modest by today's standards, was still quite attractive. Her light brown hair was tied back with a black ribbon, and she wore onyx earrings with a matching necklace. Illya himself wore black slacks with a white button-down shirt and a black tie with pinstripes.
"You are beautiful," he said softly when he first saw her.
"Thank you." She smiled demurely.
"Shall we be on our way, then?"
He took her to his favorite restaurant. With the lights turned down low and smooth jazz provided by an in-house band, Illya soon felt incredibly relaxed. He smiled across the table at Alexandra. "Are you enjoying yourself so far?"
"The music is completely unfamiliar to me, but it is lovely nonetheless."
"It is called jazz," Illya told her. "It is my favorite kind of music. Would you like to dance?" Several couples were already on the floor.
"Certainly!" They both stood, and he took her into his arms and they began to move to the music.
"The last time I danced was at our Tricentennial Ball in 1916," she told him. "Oh, Illya, you should have been there! The Alexandra Palace was all decked out for the occasion. There were banners and streamers everywhere, and ever so many lights, and everyone was all dressed up. It truly was magic..."
Suddenly her eyes looked very sad. Illya gently swept a stray hair back from her cheek. "You must have looked as lovely as you do tonight."
"Nicky wore his best suit. He was so handsome..."
"It looks like our food is ready," Illya said gently.
Over dinner Alexandra regaled the blond with stories of the Tricentennial Ball. "Everything about it was simply perfect," she told him. "I think it was the last really happy night of my life."
"There may yet be happier nights to come." Illya's hand reached across the table to clasp hers. To him she'd never looked more beautiful.
After an evening filled with magic, Illya drove Alexandra back home and walked her to the front door.
"Dinner was lovely," she told him. The reflection of the moonlight in her eyes made him melt inside. "Thank you for a wonderful time, Illya."
"Thank you, beautiful Tsarina." His lips touched hers for the first time, and she responded in kind.
The following week, Illya was shot several times, in the leg, arm, and chest, while on duty. As he was carried into Medical in agony, Alexandra turned pale at the sight of all the blood.
"Illya! Dear God!" she sobbed as she flew to his side.
"Is he going to make it?" she asked the physician on call.
"A lot depends on how much damage that bullet to the chest did," the physician told her.
Sometime later, the operation was over and Illya was wheeled into recovery.
"He was fortunate," the physician told Alexandra. "The bullet didn't hit any vital organs. However, he did lose a lot of blood, so he's very weak."
The next time Alexandra saw Illya, he was lying in bed asleep, his skin looking very pale against the white sheets. She was reminded so painfully of Alexei after one of his bleeding episodes that it cut her to the heart. Gently she brushed a lank of blond hair back from his forehead, glancing at the bandages swathing his arm and leg, the wrappings covering his chest. She thought how close she and her children had come to death that night in the Ipatiev House, what would have been their fate if Illya and Napoleon hadn't shown up right when they did.
"Oh, Illya, please be all right..."
She was still sitting at his side when he awakened several hours later.
"Zhazhdushchiy," he croaked. She fetched a Styrofoam cup filled with ice water and held the straw to his lips. Quickly he drank every drop. "Spasibo." His eyes flickered open and gazed into hers. "Alexandra."
