She sat in a chair and pulled her knees up to her chin. With a negligent wave of her hand, she summoned a drink from the wet bar, it appeared with a soft clink of ice, and likewise she pulled a cigarette from the pack in her bag, still where she had dropped it. She stared at the smoke slowly wending its way upward into the darkening sky. God, had it been only three hours since she had arrived home? It felt like time had alternately crept or fled, she couldn't decide.
She had been so reluctant to let him out of her sight, more than half afraid that he was still an hallucination and the rest afraid that he was indeed real. She wasn't sure which would be easier to deal with, reality or insanity. She snorted softly. Insanity definitely, it fit with her current lifestyle much better than a long dead husband. She sipped the Glenfiddich in the glass, her breath catching in the medicinal aftermath. Taking a drag from the slim black cigarette, she blew the clove flavored smoke toward the bay. A warmth against her shoulder had her turning her head to the small grayish area that had appeared.
"You really get your jollies doing shit like this don't you?" she asked the avatar that flickered and wavered in the half light of dusk.
*I had nothing to do with this.*
"Right. And the Pope isn't Catholic." She took another drink.
*Despite what you would care to think, Fledgling, not all that happens in the universe falls under my purview. Some things are the responsibility of chaos, this just happens to be one of them.* the Phoenix whispered into the air. *Are you not happier now, Fledgling?*
"Why should this make me happy?" she snapped.
The smoky form shifted and a small flame took its place. *You have him back. Does that not please you?*
"Oh, yeah. I'm as happy as a pig in shit." She groused. She stubbed the cigarette out and lit another. "Look, yes I am thrilled beyond thrilled that he is alive. It's just the timing really sucks." She blew another smoke trail at the avatar. "I want him. Ancients, Phoenix, I still love him. But I can't have him. Not with all the shit you guys have dumped on us. It wouldn't be fair to him, or to me, or to our son. Listen to me, I mean hell, I don't even know that he still wants me."
Phoenix winked out for a second, then came back perched on her shoulder, a smoldering coal. At his touch she felt her world shift slightly and she could "see" the interior of the limo Napoleon and Illya were in.
'She's still my wife, Napoleon.' Illya was saying obviously in response to something. 'I love her and whatever else, that will never change.'
'Illya you don't know her. There is something wrong in that house. She's hiding something.' Napoleon argued.
Illya shook his head. 'It doesn't matter Napoleon. Not to me, not now-not ever.'
'What if she wants you to leave?'
'If that is what she wants, I won't like it, but I will. Doesn't mean I can't keep an eye on her.'
Napoleon shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Illya but everything I know tells me that she's a danger to you, to UNCLE. I just don't want to see you hurt again, tovarich.'
'She's my wife, Napoleon. She deserves my trust for that reason alone.'
'Sometimes, Illya, you surprise me.'
She felt Phoenix move away and glared at the avatar once more. "You know, there are rules about eavesdropping."
*You needed to know. I showed you.* Phoenix shrugged. *I do not see a problem with that.*
Shado dropped her head onto her knees, "It's nice that he still cares that much. But it still doesn't help me."
*Fledgling, things are never as difficult as you would make them. Think for a moment. What is your biggest worry?*
"You mean other than the price of cigarettes and gas?" she looked out at the bay now shrouded by darkness. "That I won't be able to keep the kids safe. That one day, I'll come home and find MPs parked at the door."
*Your Illyusha, what does he do?*
She chuckled. "Well last time I looked, he was a spy. Now, hell who knows?"
*Did not the dark one say they had gotten a transmission that led them here? Does that not indicate to you that they are still with the UNCLE?*
"Yeah, so, he's still in the game."
*Could he not use his position to help you? To keep the wolves from your door?* Phoenix asked.
"Oh hell, no, Phoenix. I am SO not about to involve either of them in this mess that you have us in." she growled.
*They are already involved, Fledgling. If you look at them, you can see the hand of the fates already on them.*
"Phoenix is right, sensei." Keeper said from the doorway. She jumped, she hadn't heard him open it. "The guardians saw them, watched them the whole time they were here. A couple of them actually wanted to follow them back to the hotel." He joined her on the deck, frowning at the cigarette in her hand.
"I am sorry, Shado, that this happened. Honestly, we hadn't meant to pry. But once the cat was out of the bag, well," he shrugged. "We couldn't really help it."
She sent a gaze toward the hovering avatar. "I think you probably had a little help there, Keeper."
*On that note, I shall take my leave of you. Fledgling, realize that all things happen in their own time. Now is yours to trust your heart.* and the avatar fled.
"I really hate it when he does that." She said to no one in particular. "Don't get the idea that you all are out of trouble for this. I just have to think of a suitable punishment for you."
"Whatever." He said. "The others and I have reached an agreement on this. It's up to you what you want to tell or not tell. We trust you."
"Oh how magnanimous of you." She snarked. "It was always my decision anyway."
"Um, actually no it wasn't." he argued. "Since it would involve us and our safety it's a mutual thing."
"You all blew that the moment you activated that communicator." She finished off the scotch. "That's when you compromised our security which then makes it MY decision on the appropriate action. Since I'm the only one with the resources and the ability to hide us."
"We really need to talk about your ego." Keeper muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Look it really doesn't matter at this point. It's been done and now we need to deal with it. All we are saying is that if you decide to trust them, we won't object." He stood and headed back into the house.
"Hey Keeper." She whispered, he turned and looked inquiringly at her. "In case I haven't said it-- thank you. For everything." He smiled, knowing exactly what she meant.
"Our pleasure, sensei. Just try to get some sleep at some point tonight ok?" he pulled the slider closed, leaving her in the dark with her thoughts.
"Sleep. Right." She muttered. The sounds of the group moving around in the house were muted by the glass but she knew the routine well enough that she knew what they were doing. Eventually, as the hours passed the lights went out one by one, until the only one left was the security light from the basement door. She stared out over the bay, hearing the soft wash of the waves as the tide turned.
From around the point she could see the pulse of the lighthouse at the Coast Guard station there. She had counted on that beacon to help her martial her thoughts on more than one occasion, but tonight it couldn't help her. The sight of him standing in the living room, the feel of his strength wrapped around her all ganged up on her, making rational thought impossible. She bit back a soft sob, knowing that Brit and Faln had their window open. Last thing she wanted was one of them crashing this party.
The running lights of a freighter caught her attention and she watched it make its careful way through the dark shipping channel, wondering as it passed where it had come from and what its cargo might be. As it slowly moved out of her line of sight she let her mind wander to happier times, flashes of Illya brought a smile to her face. The way he would get so lost in the Lab, how he moved through the halls, the sound of his breathing in the night. She shook her head, she hadn't known when they had first met that she would come to like him, much less fall in love with him.
1967.
The two agents her father had assigned to her, left her alone in the small apartment for visitors once she had been cleared by Medical. It had taken her father putting in an appearance to explain her "seizure" as normal before the doctors had stopped with the tests. She sat on the edge of the small twin bed, her kit on the floor by the door. Now that she was alone, she let the residual of the vision wash over her, trying to make some sense out of it. But all she knew was that the event would happen in the future and be devastating when it did. Pulling herself together she unpacked, placing the few changes of clothing she had in the drawers of the dresser provided.
She would have to see about civilian clothes, since she hadn't brought but a single change and seriously doubted that there would be time to send back to the base for her things. Luckily, she had brought her checkbook so that shouldn't be a problem. She was just hanging up her class Bs when a soft knock came from her door. She reached for her side arm, a reflex movement, before opening it. She eased the hammer down to the same half grin on Kuryakin's face when he saw that she had answered armed.
"While I can appreciated the thought, I don't think you need that here." He said his voice amused. She motioned him in and shrugged.
"Habit." She laid the small pistol on the night stand.
"Nice habit." He looked around the room. "I came to see if you would care to join Napoleon and myself for dinner." He appeared to be ill at ease and she had the feeling that he didn't socialize much. For about half a second she considered refusing, on general principle, but she was going to have to work with these two, her orders left her no choice.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked, running through her limited wardrobe choices. She had single pair of patched hip huggers, something guaranteed to piss off the old man, and a tie dyed shirt, packed for the same reason.
"There's a jazz club in the village that is very pleasant." He said shyly.
"Great. I like jazz." She smiled taking him up on the invitation. "Can you give me a few minutes to change?"
"Certainly. If you would like you can meet us in Napoleon's office? Give me a chance to finish up a few things." Illya said. He handed her a yellow triangular pass, similar to the ones that he and his partner wore. "This is your pass to the offices. Napoleon's is easy to find, just follow the sound of women's voices."
"I understand." She said smiling as she took it from him. "That'll be just fine. I need to finish unpacking and change. I'll be there in say, thirty minutes?"
Illya nodded. She saw him out and watched him walk away, wondering what had sparked the invitation. He hadn't struck her as the social type, but then, he might be. She was about to find out.
She took a few moments to check out her appearance, so radically different from the uniformed officer she had been just fifteen minutes ago. Her hair hung loose except for a braid at her temple to her mid shoulders, she had tied the braid with a feather fetish that she had gotten somewhere. The tie dyed shirt came only to her midriff, baring her belly button. The hip huggers were painted on, she had to lie down to zip them, but now that she was up and moving around they were loosening up. A chain belt swung from the loops and bumped against her knee. One of her ankles rang with bells from the anklet she had, her toe nails shone with brilliant purple nail polish easily seen with the sandals she had on. She topped off the whole look with a pair of purple tinted shades ala the Beatles.
"A bit over the top, but should get the message across nicely." She said to the room. The yellow badge didn't really go with the outfit so she stuck it to the strap of her large macrame handbag. Pleased that she would make her point, she opened the door and headed out into the halls of the 'establishment.'
The looks she garnered from the people she passed were priceless. She fully expected the office grapevine to inform her father before she had the chance to slip out. She had timed her arrival at Napoleon's office perfectly, he and Illya both looked up as she opened the door. For a moment, she almost laughed at the stunned looks on their faces but they both recovered quickly. Napoleon grinning widely, closed the file they were working on and stood. She wasn't sure what was going on behind the blue eyes of the Russian, but she figured she might just have lost whatever opportunity she had with him, not that she was planning on messing around with one of her father's people. OK, well she had thought about it, for about thirty seconds and had dismissed it as a really bad thing to do.
"Well, we're done here for now." Napoleon said. Illya stood as well and the three of them headed for reception. "You mind if I ask you a question?"
"Certainly, you can ask. Doesn't guarantee you'll get an answer." She said as they moved down the hall.
"Pagan Michelle!" came the bellow from the opposite end of the corridor. All three of them stopped, Napoleon and Illya turning automatically. She hesitated, knowing full well what that tone in her father's voice meant. She wasn't disappointed, he was storming toward them, his face red and his eyes raking over her like mad.
"Yes?" she replied coolly.
He stopped a few feet in front of her, his voice dripping with displeasure. "What is the meaning of this?" he motioned to her attire. "There is a dress code in..."
"Excuse me." She looked at the large clock hanging at the end of the hall, then at Napoleon. "What about it?"
"You will comport..."
She interrupted him once more. "Two things Old Man, first off,it's after hours and I'm off duty. Secondly, I haven't lived under your roof in six years therefore you have no say in my dress." She looked at him. "And if you still have trouble with either of those, sit on this." She flipped him the bird and walked away leaving Waverly with his jaw hanging open. Napoleon and Illya wisely decided to completely ignore the incident after exchanging glances. They hurried to catch up to her. She was fuming silently as she signed out of the register and handed the receptionist the badge.
Neither of them knew what to say after the display of animosity in the hallway. She gave them a slightly apologetic smile.
"Look, I understand if that made you all uncomfortable. If you would rather-" the offer was unsaid but she was willing to let the dinner invite slide.
Illya spoke quickly. "Please join us."
"Yes, it would be our pleasure and besides we need to get to know a bit about you if we are going to be working together." Napoleon agreed, he was in awe of someone who wasn't afraid to stand up to Mr. Waverly.
"You don't think it will cause trouble for you do you?" she asked suddenly reluctant to do so. She hadn't thought about how it might reflect on the two at least not until now.
"I seriously doubt it, Miss Waverly." Napoleon said smoothly leading the way to where he had his car parked. They were going to stop by his place and Illya's to give them the chance to change for dinner, then they would be heading to the club.
"Please, Miss Waverly is someone else." She said as Illya opened the car door for her. Once she was settled, he slid into the backseat.
"Ms. St. John?" Napoleon asked.
"Sounds like my mother." She thought for a second. "Actually I prefer Paige. Pagan is just too odd, and I hate the name Michelle, that's what they called me when I was a kid. But Paige will work."
"Paige it is." They both agreed.
Dinner had been a very nice affair. The company was great, Napoleon doing most of the talking, but Illya had told a few stories and really knew his jazz. She found herself liking the duo despite their employer. She reciprocated, telling a bit about her childhood parent and her "talent". Not that there was a lot to tell about it, it was infrequent and often didn't make sense until after the fact. But it was part and parcel of her and the reason she had been loaned out. At the end of the evening she found herself being escorted back to UNCLE by Illya, Napoleon having plans for later.
With an effort she pulled herself from the past to focus on the here and now. She had no idea what time it was, only that it was getting late and she was still no closer to a decision regarding the morrow's events. She shook her head, she could remember so clearly, their first date, and all the subsequent time they spent together, just as if it had happened yesterday. And seeing him again today, despite the passage of years, he still had the power to make her knees weak.
Her heart was saying that she could still trust him with her life, but her mind countered maybe with hers but there were more lives at stake than that. Then add into that the need she had to protect her son, to keep him safe from any possible repercussions, she really wasn't sure what she should do.
The words of Phoenix bothered her as well. The fact that the hand of fate was on them, and the guardians wishing to go... she sighed. It sounded to her as if the choice wasn't really hers to make. She honestly didn't know what was worse, having to make a choice or having no choice at all.
Finally, just as the night sky started to lighten, she came to a kind of solution. Not exactly her first choice but this would take care of it all. She stood and stretched, might as well try to get a little sleep, she thought and headed up to her room.