Illya had gone out first thing in the morning to run errands, leaving Napoleon at home to handle the housework. Ever since they had progressed from friends to lovers and had moved into Napoleon's penthouse together, they had divided chores based on their strengths and weaknesses. UNCLE had staff that stocked and cleaned agents' apartments when they were away on affairs, but the CEA and his partner preferred doing it themselves when they were working out of headquarters.
By Illya's own admission, he was basically useless when it came to cooking and housework, so he did not mind dropping off and picking up dry cleaning, taking the car to be washed or serviced, heading to the supermarket (albeit with a detailed list from Napoleon who swore death upon him if he dared deviate from it) and almost any and all jobs outside the home that needed to be done. On this Saturday, he had gone to the Post Office and Bloomingdale's to purchase white shirts for Napoleon.
As he approached the penthouse door, he could hear the radio playing. It was the Top 40 station WMCA and the DJ, he thought it sounded like Harry Harrison, was counting down the Top 10 hits. Illya unlocked the door just as he was announcing the next song in the countdown.
"Moving up one spot to Number 3, here is Tom Jones singing "What's New, Pussycat!" The music, which always struck the Russian as sounding like a circus calliope, began to play as he walked into the living room where Napoleon was dusting the furniture.
Seeing his partner, Napoleon straightened up and began to sing in his slightly off-key voice as he walked towards him. "What's new, Poosycat? Whoa, ooo whoa ooo whoa!"
Illya rolled his eyes as Napoleon took the Bloomingdale's bag from him and tossed it on the couch while at the same time taking Illya into his arms and waltzing him around the room.
"Poosycat, poosycat, I've got flowers and lots of hours to spend with you! So go and powder your cute little poosycat nose!" Napoleon sang as he leaned down to kiss Illya's nose. "It is cute, you know," he said.
"Why do you not take all this energy you are displaying and put it into preparing lunch?" Illya groused, but inwardly, he was enjoying his lover's silliness and display of affection. He allowed himself to be twirled around and pulled into Napoleon's body who began to sway them back and forth to the music.
"Poosycat, poosycat, you're delicious and if my wishes can all come true, I'll soon be kissing your sweet little poosycat lips! Poosycat, poosycat, I love you, yes, I do! You and you poosycat lips"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
Napoleon's eyes lit up and his smile positively dazzled with delight when Illya sang the backup vocal. "You and your poosycat eyes!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
Napoleon stopped swaying them and turned Illya to face him. "You and your poosycat…nose," he whispered before bending down to kiss the man who, against all odds, had captured his heart in a way no one else, not Brianna, * nor Clara had managed. "I love you, Partner Mine."
"Show me, Napoleon."
The taller man's smile turned devilish. "I'm about to; lunch will be ready half an hour."
"Napoleon," Illya snarled, "It is not often I turn down food, but you have awakened another one of my appetites and it will not be denied." He stepped closer until their bodies melded together. "Show me you love me, Napasha." He reached for his partner's hand and started leading him to the bedroom. "Now."
*his wife, who perished in a car accident