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Rejection hit him like a bullet to the chest, as he watched Gaby's hand slip behind the door. He liked her of course but maybe this was for the better. After all, the three of them would be parting ways the following day. And, it was for the better. A kiss would only make it harder to leave. A kiss would lay his emotions bare and he can’t have that. He couldn't hurt him- her. He couldn’t. He quickly returned back to his phone call, with his boss.
“Professor Teller’s research disc, do you have it?” The voice hummed over the phone static, saying the words in Russian. “It went down with Victoria Vinciguerra and the boat.” He was quick to respond, superiors don’t like to wait. “Then why am I being told that the American has it? Again! Whoever holds that disc, can control the world.” He knew what was coming next before his boss could get out the words. He would have to get the disc one way or another. The problem is he doesn't want the disc, and he sure as hell doesn't want to hurt Napoleon trying to get it. He is his partner, more importantly his friend. His only friend besides Gaby. He couldn't betray him like that. He was sure Napoleon was already feeling the burden of having the disc; he didn't want to make it worse. No, he wanted to help. Rage began to build, dropping his stomach and causing his mind to race.
“Complete your mission.” The voice hummed once more. Illya hoped that was all he had to say, that no more words would come over the speaker of the phone. He had a long day, his mind already full with the grief of leaving the people he had grown so close to, with the poisonous sting of rejection making its way through his blood stream, and trying to figure out how to get the disc with the least possible damage to Napoleon. He stood frozen waiting for more, his eyes unable to leave their place on the wall. And no, his employer would not be quiet. He chose his words to pack the biggest punch they could and continuing in Russian said. “That is unless you want to end up in Siberia like you father. He is an embarrassment. You don’t want to wear this kind of shame. Is that clear? Am I making myself clear? Get it done.” The Phone disconnected with a click.
Illya could feel an episode coming on. The rage overflowing and having no wear else to go. His vision became spotty and his hands began to tremble. He tried to tap a calming pattern on his thigh. He bent over in frustration trying to steady and ground himself. He couldn't hurt him. He couldn’t. Couldn’t. COULDN'T. His ears began to ring, blood rushing and filling the space. To no avail he had lost control. He had lost himself and the only thing he could do was go mad. He needed to let it all out. So he could face Napoleon. So he could peacefully retrieve the disc. Still he had lost himself in the animosity. He began by smashing two vases, and flipping over the table they once sat on. He stopped for a moment, even so it didn’t help. So he went back to his destruction. All thoughts had left his mind, he had lost himself. He shoved lamps off of tables, threw chairs across the room, and smashed the tv over the couch. He felt better but not quite. His vision returned but the adrenaline was still there making his face twitch. The need to break faded out of his system. However he still had a mission.
He cocked his gun and slid it back into his waistband. Breathing heavy, he ran out of his room and up the stairs to Napoleons. He wanted to look steady before knocking. Unsure of Napoleon's reaction if he came to him startled. He rapped against the door, straightening his jacket before he was seen. Before too long Napoleon answered the door “Ah, Peril Come in.” He takes in the sight of Napoleon in a loosely tied robe with freshly washed hair, a single curl hanging over his forehead. He doesn't realize that he is staring, and still panting from his episode. Napoleon raises an eyebrow in confusion and his partner. He has yet to see him in such a state. “Take a picture, Peril. It’ll last longer.” He decides to keep the conversation light. A grin makes its way across lips, as Illya snaps out of it and strides into the room. Napoleon's bag is open and all his suits sprawled over his bed. Illay observes the room scanning from the disc. He can feel Napoleon's gaze burning into his back. “What was happening downstairs Peril?” He asks, softly letting the door shut. Illya is quick to turn and stare. Panic seeping through the not yet mended cracks. “You heard that?” His voice wavering. “Yes. Your room is directly below mine. Believe me, I heard it.” Now it was Napoleon's turn to stare. His grin angled up at his furrowed brow.
“I- uh.” He can’t find the words to explain; explain that he loves Napoleon and can’t hurt him. He loves him. Couldn’t. He loves him. Can’t. Loves him. Won’t. Loves. A single tear rolls down his face. He can’t love him . Napoleon, still staring, walks up to him. This is different from an episode. His thoughts are still there but running wild, but all he can focus on is keeping his face neutral. He is well practiced in the sport, his face is cold and direct, a statement of his strength. Something that few people have been able to see past. A calm and collected façade. But he is not calm and collected now. He is not cool and distant, far from direct. The emotion seeping through the not yet mended cracks was all it took for him to break. “Illya.” Napoleon was in front of him now, apparently saying his name. He raises a hand to Illya’s face, he flinches at the touch. Illya’s eyes make their way to Napoleons. He sucks in a breath - when was he not breathing? “Illya what is going on.” Napoleon asks. “They want the disc.” He pushes through his teeth. “I figured as such. Told me the same thing.” Illya was trembling now. “I can’t hurt you.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to Peril.” Illya stepped back at that. Just now realizing how close Napoleon was. His hand dropped to Illya’s arm. “You weren’t ?” His face was soft now, lips resting in a subtle frown, worried eyebrows pinched. “No, peril. I don’t want the disc anymore than you do.” The tension from his shoulders released, as he let out an unbelieving breath. He shook his head at the notion. “I got you something.” He grabbed Illya’s wrist, pulling something from his pocket. Illya knew what it was within a second; His fathers watch. Illya watched in astonishment as Napoleon buckled the watch around his wrist. In the midst of this mission Napoleon took the time to get his fathers watch. Just one more reason to love him. Just One more reason to want him. One more reason to believe that Napoleon reciprocated something similar to Illya’s feelings. He turned over his arm to make sure it was his - to make sure it was real. He reached to hold Napoleon's jaw, one hand sliding to his waist, pulling him close. Napoleon realized what was happening and closed the space between them, pushing his lips into Illya’s. The kiss was soft, timid in a way that Napoleon had never seen Illya. He was nervous. Napoleon relished the thought that he could make Illya this way. With Illya practically melting in his arms. Illya pulled away his lips, Napoleon still pressed up against him. “What about the disc?” He asked. Napoleon tilted his head, and frowned at Illya. “Seriously. After what just happened your only thought is about the stupid disc.” Illya grinned. “Well I was thinking about how much I love you.” He leaned down to Napoleon's ear. “And all I can think about now is how your hand made its way up my shirt.” The words rumbled low, and thick with his accent. “You love me?” He asked, his face red to the tip of his ears. “Yes.” Illya answered. “I suppose I love you too.” They both smiled and leaned in for another kiss. “Still, the disc.” Illya said. “We could burn it. Then no one could have it.” "I like the way you think, cowboy."
They invited Gaby up for a drink, and told her the plan. They now sat outside on Napoleon’s balcony, drinking and telling jokes. Napoleon's hand silently resting on Illya’s Knee under the table. Just the three of them watching the sun set with a nice little fire to keep them warm. Waverly made his way up to Napoleon's room to tell them the good news; They would get to stay together as a team for at least one more mission. All were happy.