Who is Illya Kuryakin?
By Periwinkle
Ducky was glad he had not been present for the
conversation. He probably would have
given everything away by the look of shock on his face. As it was, he nearly dropped his cup of tea
when Kate came up to him and asked, “Ducky, who is Illya Kuryakin?”
“What?” said Ducky, stunned.
“Well, I asked Gibbs today what you looked like when
you were young and he said ‘Illya Kuryakin’.”
American swear words, then Scottish ones, followed by
Russian ones, all went through Ducky’s head as he tried to think of an
answer. Luckily something came to him
before he had to start on Mandarin.
“Kate, I’m not actually sure. I think he was in an American movie or
something years ago. I don’t think he’s a real person. But he had blond hair and blue eyes and was
small in stature, like me.”
“Oh, okay, Ducky,” said Kate. It wasn’t really
important anyway.
Gibbs was sitting at his desk sipping his coffee. He was a little concerned. He knew he had slipped up badly
when he made the Kuryakin remark but he was doing a remarkably good job of
convincing himself that Kate hadn’t really cared about the answer and that
Ducky would never know. He had almost
talked himself into believing that when the temperature in the room suddenly
appeared to drop about twenty degrees.
Even his coffee seemed to freeze.
Well, he hadn’t really believed Ducky wouldn’t learn about it. Not with
his team’s penchant for gossiping. He
turned to face a pair of eyes that had turned steely
gray and were
shooting sparks.
“I take it you heard,” he said.
Ducky glared at him for a moment. “Whatever possessed you to do that?” he
gritted out between clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry, Duck. I was distracted and I goofed up.”
“You certainly did, Jethro. If you ever do that again, you’ll be coming
with me to my next autopsy demonstration. As the subject.”
Gibbs shuddered as Ducky left the room. He was a little worried that Ducky was
serious. There had been no
humor in the voice.
Arriving home, Ducky gave his mother a cursory
greeting and then announced he was going upstairs to change. When he got to his bedroom, he went to a
secret compartment which was cleverly hidden in one of the walls. Opening it, he reached in and picked up a
silver pen. He looked at it for a moment
with a sad little smile on his face and then reached into the compartment again
and pulled out a phone. There wasn’t any
dial on the phone; Ducky just picked it up and started talking. “I need a secure line to Channel D.”
“Channel D?” asked the person on the other end. “I
don’t think there is such a thing.”
Ducky sighed.
The pens had been much easier in some ways. “Please check your code list. I believe
you’ll find it.”
The voice went silent for a moment, but Ducky could
hear computer keys clicking. Then the
operator returned. “I’m sorry sir. I’ve never had anyone use it before. I’m connecting you now.”
Ducky couldn’t manage his customary grace and simply
settled for not growling at the voice.
After a minute he was rewarded when a familiar voice said “Solo here. Illya, is that you? What are you doing calling me on Channel D?”
Just hearing the voice of his oldest and dearest
friend made Ducky relax. “Napoleon, I have a
problem. Can you come see me?”
“See you?
What’s wrong? You’ve told me to never meet you there, that it wasn’t
safe. That’s why every month we always meet somewhere halfway between us. Are
you okay? Are you in trouble?”
“Napasha, I’m okay.
But there’s a problem I need to discuss with you. Please, can you come out to see me?”
“For you I’d even leave my warm bed, you know that.”
“What if it was someone else’s warm bed?” Ducky asked,
falling into the rhythm of their banter of many years.
“Well, it might take me a few minutes more... Unless it was your bed.
Then you wouldn’t be able to get me out at all.”
“Well, if you don’t get here to get in it, you can’t
try to get out of it.”
Napoleon laughed.
“That’s my impatient Russian.
I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Ducky hung up the phone and started to head
downstairs. Just talking to Napoleon had made everything seem so much better.
Then he recalled that he’d told his “mother” he was going to change and quickly
threw a cardigan over his shirt. With
his luck, this would be the night that she remembered what he was wearing.
Around
“Mother, this is my friend Napoleon Solo. You’ve met him in the past. He came for a
short visit. I’ll have him stay in the
guest room on my floor.”
Mrs. Mallard frowned.
“Solo. That’s Italian, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Napoleon, oozing charm, which only
made her frown worsen.
“I warn you, young man. I keep a knife by me. If you try to sneak in and have your way with
me I’ll use it on you.”
Napoleon’s grin slipped just a tiny bit. “Ah, I’ll be sure to remember that, ma’am.”
As soon as they were out of the room, Ducky started
grinning. “I see your skills with the
ladies aren’t what they used to be.”
“That was no lady, that was
your mother.”
Ducky rolled his eyes, took Napoleon’s hand and led
him upstairs.
“So, I’m staying in the guest room, hmm? Worried about
your mother?” Napoleon leered and wriggled his eyebrows.
“Actually, Mother sleeps downstairs. You and I will be
the only two on this floor. But the
guest room is a good place to put your suitcase so it’s not in our way,” said
Ducky.
“Good thinking as
usual, IK,” said Napoleon, grinning.
“Let’s go in my room and discuss the problem.”
However, when they got to the room, Napoleon reached
out and encircled Ducky with his arms.
Ducky sighed and laid his head on Napoleon’s shoulder. Napoleon gave Ducky’s hair a kiss and then
said quietly, “I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me, but it seems to me,
Illyusha, that you need some comforting first.”
Ducky snuggled in a little bit more. “Oh, Napoleon, I do love you, you know. You always take such good care of me.”
Napoleon held Ducky just a little more tightly. “That’s because you’re the most valuable
thing in my life. Not to mention that
when I have problems or need someone I can always count on you to take care of me. We’re partners – equals – remember?”
Napoleon walked Ducky over to the bed and sat on the
edge of it, just holding him, feeling the tension in Ducky’s body. Ducky wrapped his arms around Napoleon and
for a few minutes they just sat there, enjoying the feeling of being
together. Then Ducky raised his head and
gave Napoleon a soft kiss on the lips.
It felt so good that Napoleon just had to give him one back. For a little while, they just continued like
that, exchanging soft kisses and holding each other, feeling each other’s
love. Then Napoleon’s back began to hurt
from holding Ducky and he eased them backwards onto the bed, being careful to
keep their shoes off the bedspread.
Ducky sighed and ran his hand down Napoleon’s back as Napoleon toed off
his shoes and then Ducky’s. Then the two
men moved as one into the middle of the bed, never letting go of each other,
never stopping the kissing. They lay
there, exchanging little kisses and strokes, unhurried,
savoring the moment. Their relationship
had long ago moved from simply friendship, to passion and release, to this
point in time where they were everything to each other and sex was no longer
the major point of being together, and the shared love was the most important
thing in their world. But eventually,
soft kisses turned into open-mouthed ones, caresses became arousing and clothes
came off, until they reached the height of joy, in tune with one another as
always, finding their release together.
For a long time they just lay together, happy at being
with each other. Eventually, Napoleon stirred and spoke. “Illya, I hate to spoil the moment, but if
you have to go to work in a few hours, you’d better tell me what the problem
is.”
Ducky turned in Napoleon’s arms and said, “Tell me
again why Sir John thought Gibbs should know my past.”
“Let’s see, originally, when he was trying to keep you
from being sent back to Russia, all he did was arrange for ‘Illya Kuryakin’ to
die, and get you this whole new identity, is my memory right?” Ducky
nodded. “He and I were the only two
people who remembered your past. But
then Thrush was trying to sniff you out and he, ah, wanted someone nearer to you
geographically to know the situation in case one of your old enemies came after
you. Why?”
“Because I think Jethro may have blown my cover.”
“What?” Napoleon sat up suddenly. “I thought you trusted him.”
“I do. He’s my
oldest and dearest friend,” said Ducky.
“Not me?” said Napoleon, hurt.
Ducky, who was attuned in every way to Napoleon, heard
the tone of Napoleon’s voice and reached up to caress his face. “You, moi droog, are much more than a
friend. You are my partner and my lover;
you are everything to me. And you will be my partner
forever even though I am no longer at U.N.C.L.E. You are the one I am committed to.”
Napoleon gave a shy grin. A real one, that only Ducky
was ever allowed to see. “I love you,
Illya. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course, my dear. But to get
back to the problem, Jethro told one of his team that I looked like Illya
Kuryakin when I was younger, and she came and asked me about it. And I’m afraid she’ll ask other members of
the team.”
Napoleon’s eyes turned dark. “Would you like me to take care of Agent
Gibbs? I’d be more than happy to.”
“No, it was an accident. I know you want to protect
me, but I don’t think he needs to be threatened – he already realizes he
slipped up. And I don’t think it really
justifies killing him or harming him, no matter how much you feel like it.”
Napoleon made a small grimace. “However,
I appreciate the offer. But how do we prevent others from finding out about
it?”
Napoleon lay back
down, and wrapped his arms around Ducky. “Tell you what.
You go to work tomorrow and trust me to work on the problem while you’re
gone. Can you do that?”
“Trust you? Napasha, if I let you go off on your own
you’ll get in trouble. You never could
manage anything without my help.” Ducky smirked and then laid his head on
Napoleon’s shoulder. “Will you be here
when I get home or do you have to go back to
“I’ll be here. And, Illyusha, don’t get too
worried. It’s been forty years now. I
doubt anyone cares about Illya anymore. At least not enough to want to kill you. And I think I’m old enough to manage a few
phone calls without you dialing the number for me.”
Ducky looked up with a small pout. Napoleon sighed; it seemed his partner was
going to go into his sulking routine. Honestly, he’s 63 now, Napoleon thought, doesn’t he know how ridiculous that
looks? And does he know he gets me with
it every damn time? “What?”
“No one
cares?”
Ah, that was it, Napoleon thought.
That devious little... “Well,
of course I care. I care very deeply. I meant none of your
enemies.”
Ducky smiled the broad smile that was only for
Napoleon, and went to sleep.
Gibbs sidled quietly into the office, holding a tin of
Ducky’s beloved Earl Gray tea as a peace offering. But when he got sight of Ducky standing by
the elevator, he realized he needn’t have bothered. Ducky was bouncing on his toes, practically
radiating with happiness and joy.
“Ah, Jethro, my dear. Good to see
you this morning.”
“Morning, Duck.
What’s put you in such a good mood?”
“I think it would be prudent to discuss this is your
‘office’, Jethro, wouldn’t it? Don’t you think It
probably would be a poor idea to have someone overhear us discussing this
matter?” Steel blue eyes stared directly
into Gibbs’. There was still no hint of
the usual twinkle.
Trying not to cringe at the mild rebuke, at least
externally, Gibbs followed Ducky into the waiting elevator. He punched the button for the Autopsy level
and then stopped the elevator’s downward motion. Once the elevator had halted
he straightened his back and turned to face Ducky.
“I called an old friend last night, Jethro, and
explained the problem to him. He’s down
here visiting today. You may remember
him. He was my partner – Napoleon Solo.”
Gibbs sighed.
Could things have gotten any worse?
He really wasn’t in a mood to try to appease Napoleon. People didn’t realize that Ducky’s mild
manner and twinkle hid a lethal personality, one that Gibbs had no intention of
getting turned on him, and Napoleon could be even worse to deal with if his
partner was involved. He remembered how
fiercely Napoleon had fought to protect Ducky from Thrush’s harm all those
years ago. Napoleon might be a charmer,
but he would do anything, and I mean
anything, thought Gibbs, to keep his Ducky safe. And if he was mad at Gibbs, Gibbs was facing
a rather painful discussion.
“Do I take it that your friend has handled things?”
Ducky almost leered.
“Well, he handled some things very well yesterday and today he’s going
to try to block any possible problems.”
Gibbs put the elevator back in motion. “Good. Glad to hear it. Is he planning on
visiting me?”
Just as the elevator door slid open and the men began
to exit into Autopsy, Ducky turned and said, “He did offer to take care of
you. He was very disappointed when I
told him he couldn’t shoot you.”
Jimmy Palmer’s head shot up. “Um,
Dr. Mallard? You are kidding about someone shooting Agent Gibbs. Aren’t
you?”
Ducky turned.
“It doesn’t matter Mr. Palmer; this person can do impressive things
without resorting to guns. Why I
remember one time, he was in the
“Duck!” said Gibbs.
“Yes, Jethro?”
“It looks like a quiet day down here. Shouldn’t you be spending some time taking
care of that other business? I’m sure
Jimmy can handle stuff for an afternoon and I do have your cell phone number.”
“Are you sure, Jethro? I hate to shirk my duties.”
Now Gibbs also turned to Jimmy. “Jimmy, do you think you can hold the fort
for a couple of hours?”
“Um, yes, I guess so. I mean that’s if it’s okay with
Dr. Mallard. If he thinks I can do it,
then...”
“Just do it Jimmy.”
“Yes sir, Agent Gibbs, sir.” And Jimmy scurried off before the day got any
stranger.
“Well, if you’re quite sure,” said Ducky and then he was racing out the door.
In the meantime Napoleon was making a series of phone
calls. While no longer an active agent,
he still commanded a lot of respect within the agency that had succeeded
U.N.C.L.E. and his consultation work for the agency made it possible for him to
access any records he needed.
He started with phone calls to the heads of any
departments that could possibly have records of his and Illya’s missions. Summoning all his charm, rank, and
persuasion, he convinced anyone who might have a 40-year-old piece of paper
concerning agent Kuryakin that a hard copy was no longer needed as all records
were accessible in the computer files.
Once he was fairly sure that as many paper copies had been destroyed as
possible, he turned his attention to the computer files. It certainly didn’t
hurt that he’d also been running a computer company for the last couple of
decades. Tapping away at the keyboard he encrypted, passworded, and hid the
files under so many levels of code that the President of the
As a last chore, Napoleon fixed Mrs. Mallard two of
her iced teas. The
ones with the secret ingredients of gin and tonic.
When Ducky came bursting in the door, Napoleon was
waiting for him, arms outstretched.
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