Chapter Text
Illya was staring at the spot of sunlight slowly moving over the ugly beige carpet. The only sounds in the room were a clock ticking rather loudly and his quiet breathing. It had already been ten minutes of this relative silence and Illya wondered how long the Doctor would let it go on. He would not be the first one to speak, that was sure.
Another minute, and then … “Mister Kuryakin.”
He slowly raised his head, looking at her without blinking, but she just stared back. Her eyes were a deep dark brown and her smile annoyingly open and honest.
“You know why you are here, yes? Don't you think it would be better to … actually use this time?”
“I do not believe there is any use I could get out of it,” Illya replied, biting back a smirk.
“Concerns have been raised about your behavior in the recent weeks. Does that not make you pause and think?”
“It makes me think that people put their noses in things that do not concern them.”
“So … you admit that there is some cause for concern.”
“I … do not,” Illya furrowed his brow, deciding that it would be better not to say anything anymore.
“It has been suggested that your change in behavior correlates with the arrival of Agent Khan.”
Illya did not move a muscle.
“She and Mister Solo did an admirable job during their mission in Kentucky. It would be only natural if you felt … jealous.”
Illya lowered his head, noting that the sunlight had moved a few more inches.
“Or maybe it's not jealousy per se, maybe it is concern that she could threaten your partnership with Mister Solo.”
He shifted a bit, his back starting to complain. Weren't couches in psychiatrist's offices usually comfortable? Apparently Doctor Miller had not gotten that memo.
“Alright,” she closed her file, her tone suddenly matter of fact. “This seems to be a waste of time for both of us. I just want you to know that this meeting is not on record. If your behavior should continue to be cause for concern, there will be other steps to take. You are a professional and I know you care about the work you do. So maybe you should think about taking care of it yourself, before it will have official consequences.”
Illya looked up at her again. “Are we done?”
“Yes, we are done,” she sighed, drawing a hand through her black, curly hair. “You can go.”
He got up and left her office without another word.
Illya made his way from the UNCLE medical ward to the office he shared with Napoleon, navigating the chrome corridors easily. Doctor Miller's words were going round and round in his mind – she was absolutely right, he somehow had to get a grip on himself. If even Waverly noticed that something was off, and sent him to see the Doctor … He could not let some silly emotions interfere with his work. However, what really annoyed him was the fact that Waverly had also noticed the reason for his erratic behavior and had shared that insight with the Doctor. Was his frustration with Agent Khan really so obvious? At least, he thought while he approached their office door, they only knew half of the story.
Speaking of Agent Khan, when he went into the office without knocking, she was there. Leaning against a wall, Napoleon's hand next to her waist, halfway closing her in. They were laughing about something before Illya's arrival startled Napoleon, causing him to move away from her. She, in turn, did seem unperturbed.
“Don't mind me,” he bit out the words, walking quickly to his desk. He shuffled through his lab notes, glancing at the pair, wondering if there really had been a flicker of guilt on Napoleon's face.
Chae chuckled nervously and handed Napoleon a folder. “Anyway, good luck with your mission, Napoleon. Waverly sent me to give you the briefing documents, so … there you go.” She smiled at him and then, without acknowledging Illya, left the office.
Illya collected the papers he needed and then looked up. “What mission?” he asked.
“I'm just investigating a new number station. It'll be probably just me in a hotel room listening to gibberish all day,” Napoleon mumbled distracted, opening his folder. There was something about the way he held his shoulders, in the lines around his mouth that told Illya to tread carefully.
“Where do you have to go?” he asked.
“In a few hours,” Napoleon said and Illya had to swallow, noting the uncharacteristic coldness in his partner's voice.
“I asked where,” he replied. He got out his tinted glasses from his pocket, fiddling with the sides. Normally Napoleon was the one to ask if they would spend time together outside of work, but lately he had not. Maybe it was time he took some initiative himself ... “When you come back, maybe we could go out for dinner? There is this new Russian place I've been meaning to go to. I promise I won't make you try kvass again.”
Something softened in Napoleon's eyes and then, he smiled. “Of course we can. And it's down in LA.”
Illya nodded and put on his glasses. “Then, I will see you soon.”
“Yes. And … maybe try to be a bit nicer to Chae. She's a great agent and you would get along well if you gave her a chance.”
Napoleon had gone to his own desk, collecting what he needed for his mission.
Illya stared at him for a moment, not sure how to respond. In the end, he only mumbled a goodbye and left quickly for the labs.