“THE EYES HAVE IT!”

AUTHOR: Jatona P. Walker
zulumaid@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: They are mine - but only in my dreams!

RATING: NC-17

FEEDBACK: Please do:

DISTRIBUTION: Yes, please!!

CATEGORY: Illya/Napoleon

SUMMARY:   Illya finally gets a clue!!

IKLOVESNS  IKLOVESNS  IKLOVESNS  IKLOVESNS  IKLOVESNS  IKLOVESNS


“THE EYES HAVE IT!”


	Illya lay in the king-sized bed, his soul overflowing with contentment, the arms of
his lover enfolding his sated body in an inescapable embrace.

	Illya had known this would happen since that first time he’d laid eyes on Napoleon
Solo.  He had been asked to help update files by the CEA of London HQ  - he was,
after all, the fastest typist they had ever seen - and he had seen Solo’s photo. 
The eyes had captured his heart - dark, seductive, commanding; yet, there was
tenderness, a vulnerability in their depths that pleaded for someone to free them.  
//I will be that someone! //was his silent vow.

	Oh!  He had heard the rumors: ‘Solo will chase anything in skirts!’ or ‘ I heard
pants attract him, too!’.  Both were often uttered when he was known to be nearby.

	Characteristically, he had ignored these rumors, preferring, instead, to implore
two of his best skills - observation and patience.  The more he observed, as the
years passed, the more he realized their differences were the strength of their
partnership. 

	The man beside him stirred.  Illya turned in the embrace and meets the chocolate
royale gaze of Napoleon Solo.  He had been right about those eyes; yet, when had
they given him the courage to put his feelings into words, to make his countless
fantasies reality?

	Suddenly it came to him.  There second year of partnership - two days before his
birthday, they were on a plane bound for Los Angeles......

IKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSISLOVESNSIKLOVESNS

	“Illya?”

	Illya Kuryakin stirred, opened his eyes, and stared into the brown ones of his
partner, Napoleon Solo.  “Are we there yet?”, he asked around a yawn.

	Napoleon grinned at the childish question, his gaze never wavered.  “We’re about
twenty minutes from landing,” he replied, reaching over to fasten the Russian’s
seatbelt.

	Kuryakin humored his partner.  In his heart of hearts he loved being with Napoleon
- in good times or ill.  His smile teasing, his voice soothing or playful, his touch
comforting.  And, those eyes, always those eyes, boring into his emotional defenses
and winning.....

	“Earth to Illya.”

	“Sorry.”  He knew he sounded contrite.  “Might I ask once more why we are taking
our vacation in Los Angeles?”

	“And once again the answer is....,” Napoleon began.

	“ ‘....it is a surprise, Illya!’ “, he finished.  “You know how I feel about
surprises, Napoleon,” he added, as an afterthought.

	Solo nodded.  “I do indeed, partner mine; however, you WILL enjoy this one.”

	“Will I?”

	Napoleon’s face was inches from his own.  “Want to place a small wager on it?”, he
challenged.			

	Illya swallowed, yet he met that encompassing gaze, inhaled the unique scent that
was Napoleon.  “Very well.  The stakes?”

	Napoleon thought for a moment.  “If I see one hint of positive emotion on your face
when we arrive at our final destination - one, mind you - you will answer the first
VERY personal question I ask you.  Agreed?”				

	Illya considered he wager.  “Agreed; and, by the same token, if my reaction is
negative, you will not only do the same, but we will leave at once.”

	Napoleon’s features were smug.  This was going to be easier than he thought. 
“Agreed.  I’ll even sweeten the pot - if we leave YOU get to pick the destination.”

	“And you will not complain?”

	“You have my word.”

	They shook hands on it and straightened in their seats as the plane began its’
final approach.				

IKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNS

	Napoleon Solo sat, in triumphant, on the driver’s side of the rented car, watching
the wealth of emotions that played across the beautiful features, watching those
sapphire blue eyes drink in the name of the theme park.  			

	“How did you know?”, the Russian finally asked when he could trust himself to
speak.

	“Mrs. Waverly.”

	Illya turned to face his friend, his eyes filled with confusion.  “Mrs. Waverly?”

	
	“Yep.  She had told you about her recent visit to California, and to Disneyland. 
You told her you had never been.”

	Illya stared at Napoleon in amazement.  He remembered the conversation.  It was
doing one of Mrs. Waverly’s extremely rare visits to UNCLE HQ.  He had taken her to
the cafeteria while her husband and Napoleon discussed the results of their latest
affair.  Of course, they would be monitored....  “And you planned all of this with
my knowledge.”  It was not a question.  Napoleon was a master at surveillance.

	Napoleon smiled.  “Thank Mrs. Waverly.  I knew nothing about it until he handed me
the plane tickets the next day.  We have two whole weeks, Illya!!”

	Illya beamed.  “And that VERY personal question, Napoleon?”, he prompted. 

	Napoleon leaned close.  “Why have you never spoken of your love for me?”

	“I thought I could never please you, except in my most secret fantasies”, he
answered, truthfully.  Napoleon had, after all, won the wager.

	It was Napoleon’s turn to stare in amazement.  Illya had fantasized about him!! 
“Well, my sweet Russian, tonight we will learn to please each other.  Yes?”

	“Yes!”

	“Good.  In the meantime, let me show you why we call it ‘The Happiest Place On
Earth’.”

           That night began two weeks neither would forget for the rest of their
lives....together.

IKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNSIKLOVESNS

         	“Together”, Illya whispered.

	Napoleon, ever in tune to his beloved Russian, began to sing: “I LOVE YOU.....”

  	Illya giggled.  “...YOU LOVE ME...”

	And the rest is silence.

FINI