Scrawling a note for Napoleon, leaving it on the mirror so he would see it, he turned and headed out into the night. He contemplated actually walking the streets of downtown Seattle, but he was too smart for that, where once he could have done it without a care, now his infirmity screamed 'victim' and he really wasn't in the mood for a fight. Thinking for a moment, he remembered a sign in the lobby for the rooftop gardens, and that's where he headed. This time of night he doubted that there would be anyone up there so he might be able to think things through.
The gardens were actually pleasant, semi-tropical plants tastefully arranged the roof, a pathway winding through them and in various places, benches and chairs beckoned for a moment of peaceful contemplation. He found such a place, toward the back of the garden there was a small koi pond and a break in the foliage. He sat stretching out his legs, resting his arms against the back of the wooden bench. He canted his head upward to take in the night sky.
There were stars, for once it was a relatively clear night, and he was high enough that the lights from the streets didn't cloud the view. He stayed that way for a while, watching the stars, just letting them settle into his bones. A bright orb, the three-quarter moon, peeked over the rooftop of the building in front and he smiled slightly.
Southeastern United States, 1967.
Something woke him and he lay there waiting for the sound once more. There it was a soft footstep as someone walked passed the couch. He could hear Napoleon in the connecting room, talking to someone, making their report he thought, the drone of his voice almost too soft to hear. Then the footsteps stopped, by the door he guessed and he waited carefully. It had to be Paige, she was the only other person in this room. Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of her face in the light from the hallway as she slipped out. He sat up grabbing his gun, swearing under his breath. Damn her anyway, he thought. An attempt had already been made by THRUSH to steal her away, thwarted as planned of course, didn't want to make it too easy for the bad guys. But this was really not a good thing, her sneaking off in the night.
He followed her as she crept away from the motel, heading away from everything. He frowned trying to figure out where on earth she could be going, and he sped up a bit to keep her in his sight. As she walked he thought he could hear her talking with someone. A couple of times she would stop, toss her head back and listen as if she was waiting for an answer but evidently her answer never came for she would shrink in on herself and keep walking. After the fourth time she had done this, he looked up curious as to what she could possibly be looking for, but saw only the moon shining among the stars. He had to admit it was a really nice sight, but hardly worth the scrutiny she would give it. Finally they must have reached her goal, a small wooded area and she slipped into the trees, bringing another curse to his lips, it would be so easy to lose her in the dark and trees. He broke into a jog, listening for the sounds of her footsteps, but they had stopped. He slowed though, as the sound of her voice floated through the air.
"You know I never asked for much, Lady." She was talking softly but it was so very quiet that her words carried quite clearly. "I still don't understand why things have to be this way. It's really hard sometimes to just accept that it has to be this way."
He leaned against the tree finally seeing her where she sat under a similar tree. The moonlight was shining through the limbs and he could swear he saw tear tracks on her face. When had she started crying and why? He wondered. She punched the ground hard.
"Damn it, why can't you all just leave me alone? I don't want this, I never wanted this. But did you ever take that into consideration? No. I don't think so." she buried her face into her arms and he could just barely hear her. "I am so very tired, Lady, so tired of the visions, the fear, my father, I just want it all to end." She waited a moment then raised her face once more, "I just want to know one thing. WHY?"
Obeying an impulse that he still didn't quite understand he had gone to her then, wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried. She never asked why he was there and they never spoke of the night under the trees.
"She never got her answer." He mused out loud looking at the moon. He had often found her after that talking to the moon and stars, looking for answers to questions that he never knew. All he knew was that she never seemed to get an answer.
"Actually she did." A voice at his shoulder spoke making him turn and reach for his gun, but there was no one there.
"What?" he asked into the darkness. He hadn't heard anyone approach, and couldn't see anyone in the garden.
"I said that she actually has gotten the answer to her question." The voice came from some place different this time, and he whipped around, covering a small ficus with the sig sauer he carried. "If you would put that away, we can talk." There was amusement in the voice that had moved once more. He shook his head.
"I don’t think so. Who are you?" he said softly, the hairs on his neck standing on end. The stranger chuckled and he felt something brush against the back of his neck. He whipped around so quickly he almost over balanced, but there was no one there.
"A friend of your wife. Really Illya, you mind if I call you Illya? I feel as if I have known you for years, in fact I have." The voice came this time from the pond directly in front of him. Illya's eyes were narrowed as he tried to locate a PA system or something, that was the only logical explanation for the occurrences.
"Who are you?" Illya demanded once more. This time the voice sighed heavily and Illya felt something ruffle his hair.
"Put the gun away, and we'll talk." Came the reply. "Otherwise, I'm leaving and you will never get your answers."
Illya didn't have to think beyond that. He holstered the gun carefully but still was ready to move if he was threatened.
"Much better." The voice came from beside him and he turned. The air in the space next to him seemed odd, it was shimmering and at first he thought there was something wrong with his eyes, and he rubbed them lightly. He must have been more tired than he thought, or the wine at dinner- for he could swear that a pair of eyes was looking at him from a face that he could only describe as a cross between a cat and a crocodile, hanging in mid air, but that couldn't be possible. The cat's eyes glowed and he felt a chill run down his spine as the mouth, containing lots of teeth, he noted, opened and the voice came from it.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Illya closed his eyes and rubbed them, this couldn't be possible. It must be the wine and stress he had been under. Maybe he should make an appointment with Mental Health when he got back to New York.
"Why is it that humans always think they are seeing things?" the voice mused.
"Maybe because what I'm seeing doesn't exist." He muttered pragmatically. He opened his eyes to find more of the creature beside him. It appeared to have the body of a lion, sort of, if you discounted the scales that glimmered in a red gold rainbow, and the wings, that he noticed didn't have feathers per se, but instead were covered with long fur. He nodded.
"I think it is time for me to retire at last." He said softly starting to stand. He had obviously gone over the edge.
"Would you please sit down?" the voice ordered and a ruby claw plucked at his sleeve which really caught his attention. It pulled him back onto the bench and he stared in total shock. It had touched him, he had felt it, therefore it must be real, not his mind finally giving out on him. "Oh believe me Illya Nickovetch, I am very real, more real perhaps than you are. But let's save the metaphysical discussion for later. There are many things you must know before you meet with your wife on the morrow."
"What the hell are you?" Illya choked out as the cat-crocodile-lion-bird moved restlessly.
It snorted, a small flame of fire puffing out of its nose. "Now that's an original question." The sarcasm was sharp. "I am many things, by the way, this is a most interesting form if I do say so. Something from your Russian past or could it be something your Romany grandmother used to frighten you as a child?"
"I don't remember my grandmother." Illya said automatically.
The creature snorted again. "Oh, I think you do. As for your question, I am what I am. To Pagan, or Shado, I am the Phoenix, her teacher and friend, well sort of, depending on the day. To someone else I am the Elemental of Fire. I have many forms, many different names." It looked at itself reflected on the still pond. "Obviously." It moved its attention from the reflection to Illya's still stunned face. "You know Dr. Kuryakin, it's amazing that you have managed thus far, to live as long as you have. Can you not suspend disbelief for a moment and consider that there are things beyond your perception? Things that possibly have watched over you since you were a boy? How else would you explain your continued existence, given everything that has happened to you in your life?"
"Skill, luck." Illya said.
"Uh huh. And maybe, just possibly that luck was not luck as you would think of it." There was a flicker of movement at the corner of his perception and he turned toward it instinctively and a startled exclamation was pulled from him. Lying a few feet from him, curled into a small ball, was something that he had seen only on the verge of unconsciousness a few times in his life. It looked like a winged wolf, and as he stared at it, it raised its head, smiled toothily at him and winked a deep blue eye, then faded slowly out of his sight.
"Bozhe moi." He whispered.
"Illya," the soft voice of his partner floated to him through the garden and Illya grabbed onto that with both hands calling for Napoleon to join him.
"I got a little worried when you didn't come back." Napoleon said moving past the trees on the path.
"How did you find me?"
"Deduction. Actually I didn't think to look here, I just ended up coming up here on a whim." Napoleon appeared to Illya's left. He took one step toward the bench and promptly froze, his mouth open.
"Napoleon?" Illya asked softly, not daring to hope that Napoleon could see his hallucination as well.
"Illya, I hate to ask a stupid question, but that seems to be all that I have right now. What in the hell is that thing?"
"You can see it, Napasha?"
"Well yeah."
"What do you see?" Illya asked desperate to hear that he wasn't crazy.
"Well it's kind of- odd. Like someone ran mad and crossed a cat with a crocodile with a dash of lion and bird thrown in." Napoleon stared at the oddity crouching next to his partner. It preened it's wings and grinned at him showing a lot of tooth.
"Thank you Napoleon. I thought for a moment that I had lost my mind." Illya said in relief.
"Oh that may still be a possibility tovarich. It is possible that we have both lost our minds."
"Humans, you are so very predictable. Now come over here, Mr. Solo and take a seat. I don't have all night and there is a lot we need to talk about." Phoenix said stretching out his wings. He snapped his jaws shut with pleasure. He liked this form, he would have to remember it for future reference. He waited until Solo had joined Kuryakin on the bench, then he began to talk. This was going to be so much fun, he mused.