Waking Up – Napoleon

Waking Up – Napoleon.

By Gevaudan

Ow. My head. Hmm. I wonder what made it ache like that? OK. Think… lying down. Eyes do NOT want to open.

'BEEP.'

Typical. I'm in the infirmary. Again.

Illya? He'll be there. I hope he'll be there. If not I'm going to get into all sorts of trouble breaking out of here so I can haul him out of the fire. Again.

That isn't nice. He'd do it for me. Any day. Probably has seeing as I'm flat on my back in here.

'Napoleon?'

It's a moot point anyway. He's here. One thing less to worry about. You have no idea how much worse a headache can be when you are worrying about where your  best friend is.

Best friend? Where did that come from? I shouldn't be surprised. What's surprising about a debonair, stylish, well let's just say outgoing, American being best friends with a quiet, reserved aloof Russian? Illya is always there for me. Ready to lay his life on the line for mine if need be. As I would do for him. If that doesn't make us best friends then nothing does. Even if he does do it with stoicism and a sarcastic quip when I'd do it with flair and bravado. Never mind. So long as the job gets done.

Or maybe not the job. Maybe duty… no that isn't right either. It would be…sacrilege… if I left him behind. Sacrilege to an oath we both made. To each other. And to any other UNCLE agent. And I have the scars…well scar…to prove that I made it. Illya does do. I'll uphold that oath. To my death if necessary. And I'm here today because my rational, unsentimental partner feels the same. Or seems to.

'Napoleon?'

I try to blink. To my surprise my eyelids respond.

'Napoleon?'

I should answer him. I'll never get any peace until I do.

'Yes?' I try to say, but it comes out as,

'yeuuaa….'

Or something equally pleasant. For once the taciturn Illya is not swayed from making conversation.

'So you've made it back to the land of the living?'

 I open my eyes to prove it to him and receive a slight smile of relief as my reply. I assess my partner. He looks OK. Now all I need to do is persuade him to get me out of here and we'll be back in business….again.

 

Yes I know it's drabble but send me feedback anyway. I cant improved it if I don't get any feed back. Thanks as always to Thea my beta reader and stalwart comrade in a war against the non-UNCLE fans of a small high school somewhere in the vicinity of Yorkshire. England.

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