First Date
by Batwoman

Originally published in Past and Present, still in print.

A/N: This is a prequel of sorts to Ducky's Pain, which is also still in print. I played with the timeline in this universe, so it doesn't go along with the series (MFU) exactly, there are some liberties taken. For instance, April was a part of the team sooner than she appeared on the show.

Disclaimer: I'm broke and just playing with these, so please don't sue.

September 10, 1965

The current mission had been a challenging one, to say the least. April and Illya had been partnered as a British married couple looking to purchase a suitcase nuke from a less than desirable arms dealer, while Napoleon and Mark were their backups. The mission had been a delicate one. April and Illya had to convince the suspicious arms dealer that they truly were looking to buy a suitcase nuke to use on some unsuspecting city. They weren't the only ones vying for the weapon; there were a handful of other interested parties there as well. Wanting to keep a close eye on all of them, the seller, Mr. Booth, had invited everyone to stay at his lavish manor until the night of the auction.

Mr. Booth was a charismatic, ruthless arms dealer. He trusted no one and always insisted his bidders stay at his opulent mansion on the outskirts of Garrison, New York. The home was decorated with furnishing and decorations from around the world.

Very little was known about the man known only as Mr. Booth. The only intel U.N.C.L.E. was able to find was that Booth was from New Zealand, paranoid and that he had a penchant for only dealing with the most dangerous people in the world. The deeper their pockets, the better. Booth stood an even six feet tall with mouse brown hair and hazel eyes.

The two bidders staying at the manor with Illya and April were Gustav from West Germany and Stavros from Greece. Gustav was in his early forties but was a firm believer in Hitler and his insane rhetoric. He was planning to rebuild the Third Reich and take over the world. Stavros was a heavier-set man in his late forties with a full head of salt and pepper hair. He was the head of the Greek mafia and had plans to take over the Italian mafias.

The other guests were a mystery. When the agents had arrived earlier that week, Mr. Booth had told the buyers that there were others coming in a few days, but didn't say who.

Each day they were at the mansion, April and Illya carefully searched the house and grounds for more information on the mystery guests and the nuke. Despite having been there for three days already, they still had not finished searching the house. They had to be very careful about their moves; Mr. Booth rarely left the grounds, making their work even harder. It was the third night of their mission and April and Illya were in the parlor along with Stavros, Gustav and their host. "You know, Sophie, it's not every day a man brings his wife along for a trip to buy weapons." Stavros the Greek, another bidder, commented to April. "We are in this together," she replied, placing her hand high up Illya's leg. "Harry and I have been called a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde. Besides, watching my husband work makes me want him even more. I can hardly keep my hands off him," she said, sensually running her hand further up Illya's thigh.

Illya found it hard to fight the feelings April's touch had on his body. She was taking her role too far, he thought. Not one to back down from a challenge, he decided to play dirty. "What can I say? Sophie does things to a man that he could only dream of," Illya said, running his hand along her leg, under her skirt. "I can't deny my wife her pleasure," he added, kissing her neck.

April was finding it difficult to ignore her partner's touch. His hot breath on her neck coupled with the feel of his hand dangerously close to her panties made it hard for her to focus. Needing a moment, April took a sip of wine hoping it would help clear her head.

Stavros was enjoying the show a little too much. He was about to ask for details but knew he wouldn't be able to listen without stroking himself. This wasn't the time or place for such a thing. He decided to go out in search of a brothel to take care of his needs. "It's such a nice night," the Greek said, pushing himself up from the wingback chair. "I'm going to go out for a drive."

Like Stavros, Gustav found it hard to watch the couple without being aroused. He excused himself, hoping to reach his suite to take care of his growing erection while the others were still downstairs. Illya mentally smiled to himself; two of the three of their competitors were easily distracted by their show. Deciding he would take advantage of the near-empty house to do a little snooping, Illya took April's hand in his and said, "Join me upstairs, love," while planting a kiss on the palm of her hand. Unable to say anything, April simply smiled at him as she followed Illya. "Good night, Mr. Booth," Illya said, wrapping his arm around April's waist. Mr. Booth smiled at the couple as they walked out of the room.

"Good night," he echoed as he sat alone in the parlor.

As the couple walked up the stairs, April slid her arm around Illya's back, not wanting these strange feelings to end. When they reached the sanctity of their suite, April and Illya each took a room to search for bugs, April taking the bedroom while Illya took the bathroom. Not finding any, she turned to Illya to ask what he had in mind for their next move. Illya looked at her, not saying a word, suddenly finding it hard to resist the feelings their playful act had elicited in him. Without warning he captured her lips in his, giving her a deep, passionate kiss.

April gave into the kiss, letting Illya take her wherever he wanted. Afterwards, the couple lay in bed as April rested her head on his chest, Illya wrapping his arms around her. Neither agent said a word; instead they were each lost in thought. Both were wondering what they had just done, and more importantly, why. And even more importantly, what did it mean to the mission? As agents they were friends but knowing how complicated sex could make things, they had agreed not to be friends with fringe benefits. They had crossed a line tonight and now they wondered if there was any going back.

The next morning April woke to find Illya spooning her. She laid there allowing herself to enjoy the feeling a moment; it had been a long time since any man had treated her the way Illya had the night before. As she lazily reached under her pillow, the feel of her Special brought her back to reality; they were on a mission and had a job to do. She carefully extracted herself from her partner's embrace, knowing any false moves would result in his hand tightly clamped around her neck and his gun in her face. Sitting with her legs over the edge of the bed, April placed her hand on his arm giving it a gentle pat as she called his name. "Wake up, Illya. Time to get back to work."

To her surprise, the dangerous Russian had not flinched as his eyes fluttered open. Instead he woke up like any civilian would, peacefully. "Morning," he murmured looking up at her. "What time is it?"

April glanced at the clock on the nightstand on the far side of the bed, "7:00. I'm going to take a shower. So much for looking around last night."
Illya gave her a small smile, "April abou..." he quietly began but was stopped by her fingers on his lips.

"Illya, don't," she murmured. Looking into his eyes, April saw the vulnerability Illya so rarely showed. She let her fingers linger a moment longer than necessary. Forcing herself to focus on their assignment, April stood from the bed and walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. Once in the safety of the shower, April's mind wandered over her feelings for the Russian. When she had arrived at Survival School and found she was the only woman in her class, and after talking to her classmates, found she was the first female agent in Section Two, she had guarded her heart. She wasn't there to find a husband; she was there to do a job. And that job was to save the world. Something she couldn't do if she was sitting home tending to a house, a husband and children. When she met Mark, it was clear from the start that their friendship was nothing more than brother and sister. Napoleon had already been married when she arrived in New York.

Illya was the stray in the group. The one she was friends with but had to be careful not to think of him as anything more than a friend.

Now here she stood in the shower, water washing over her after a night of making love to Illya. Why did they have to take their playful act so far? Why did he have to kiss her last night? She closed her eyes and touched her lips; she could still feel his soft lips on hers. Could still feel his lips on her body and his strong hands gently caressing her back. A part of her didn't want it to end, but she knew it had to. They were on a mission and she had a job to do. She would have plenty of time after the mission to think about her feelings. Right now she needed to bury these newfound feelings deep down.

Illya lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind running a million miles a minute trying to analyze the events of the last eight hours, including his feelings. This was not the first time they had been partnered together. The first time was shortly after April joined Section two. Illya had quickly became enamored with the young agent and had to emotionally take a step back. Though they didn't have sex during that mission, they had plenty of time to talk before and after the mission. They agreed not to be friends with fringe benefits. Neither had wanted to cheapen their friendship that way. Now here he was; they'd crossed the one line they'd said they never would. That brought his feelings flooding back. He could kick himself for taking advantage of April like that. Did he really take advantage of her? She could have said no at any time last night, but she didn't. April had willingly followed Illya wherever he went. He hadn't seen regret in her eyes this morning; he'd seen vulnerability and confusion. Tired of trying to analyze everything, Illya buried his thoughts and feelings down. There would be plenty of time after the mission to figure things out.

An hour later, the agents strolled into the ornate dining room, joining their host and Gustav for breakfast. "Good morning," April sang, walking to the buffet.

"Good morning to you, too," Mr. Booth said. "I trust you had another pleasant night?"

"Oh, very pleasurable," Illya suggestively replied.

"Good morning," Stavros said, joining the group.

"And how was your drive, Stavros?" April asked.

"Very refreshing, thank you."

"And the brothel?" Gustav added. Stavros glared at the German, wondering just how the man knew where he had gone the night before.

"I keep an eye on all of you. I like to know who my competition is and what they are doing," Gustav shrugged.

The agents shot each other a glance. Illya wondered if Gustav had the two of them followed whenever they left the house. "Mr. Booth, when is the auction going to take place?" Illya asked, hoping to quickly wrap up this mission.

"Tomorrow night. I have a couple more interested parties flying in then. Once they're here, we'll start," Mr. Booth replied.

"Good. I've been making a list of places I'd like to use it on. Now Harry and I can narrow it down to just one location," April commented. The other men in the group looked at her questioningly; Illya glanced at the men when they didn't say anything. "As I said last night,"

Illya said, turning to walk to the table followed by April. "I can't deny my wife her pleasures."

The rest of their meal was filled with the usual small talk, no one wanting to give another an advantage by even hinting at how much they were willing to pay for the bomb. Needing to check in with their regular partners, April and Illya excused themselves after they were finished. They informed the group they were going to go to town for a few hours, but would be back for dinner.

Illya casually drove into town, keeping an eagle eye on his mirrors, making sure they weren't followed. Once in town, he parked the car along a side street, being sure to keep it in full view of the shops. The agents exited the car and made their way to a boutique, always maintaining their cover. They shopped for a few hours before walking into a small, used bookstore. April and Illya casually browsed the shelves for a couple minutes before a thin man approached them. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked.

Illya turned to face the man, eyeing him a moment before replying, "Yes, my wife is looking for a rare copy of Macbeth."

"I can help you with that. Follow me to the office and I'll see what we have in stock. If we don't have what you're looking for, I can always hunt it down for you. Follow me," he said, leading the couple to the back of the building. "Oh, one moment, please." He stopped to turn towards the front of the boutique and called out, "Penny, would you mind the store, please? I'll be in the office with customers."

"Yes sir," she called back.

The couple followed the manager to the office. Once inside, he closed and locked the door. "How are things going? Anything new to report?" Mark asked. "The auction takes place tomorrow night; Booth said there are more people coming," Illya relayed to him.

"He said they'll arrive right before the auction," April added.

"Any idea who the newcomers are?" Mark asked.

"Not a clue," April said.

"Were you able to uncover anything at the house?"

"No. We, ah, weren't able to look around last night," Illya replied.

"We're going to look around tonight. Make sure you and Napoleon are close to the house in case we need backup," April put in.

"Be careful though, Gustav keeps a close eye on things. He must have a network of people helping him out," Illya added.

Mark nodded. "Noted."

April looked at Illya and said, "We should go."

Illya nodded. "Agreed."

The agents stood to leave the office; Mark unlocked and opened the door. "I'm sorry we didn't have what you were looking for. But I'll call you if I find anything," Mark said as the team walked out of the office.

"Thank you, we appreciate it," Illya said.

"Good bye," Penny sang out as the couple walked past.

"Good bye," April cordially smiled.

With their daily check-in completed, the couple walked to a nearby bistro for lunch. Deciding to go back to the manor early, they paid for lunch and then walked back to the car. Illya drove back to the manor, always keeping an eagle eye out for tails.

"Back already?" Stavros asked as he passed the couple on his way to his car.

"Yes, Sophie wasn't feeling well," Illya replied.

"I'm going to lie down a bit. I'm sure I'll be fine for dinner," April added.

"The others are out, I'm sure you won't have any problems taking a nap," Stavros said.

April thanked him as they walked to the house. Illya was close behind, carrying her shopping bags. Once in their room April searched while Illya placed the bags on the floor. Never knowing if their room was bugged, Illya said, "Why don't you lie down for a bit? I'm going to go downstairs..."

"It's clean," April announced.

"Good. Let's take a look at Booth's study; I want to know who the mystery guests are," Illya said.

April nodded in agreement and the agents went down the stairs to Booth's study. Both agents remained alert as they searched the office.

"Find anything?" April asked after several minutes of carefully examining Booth's desk.

"Nothing. You?" Illya replied from the other side of the room.

"No, I'm starting to think he has..." April stopped mid-sentence at the sound of a door closing. Illya shot her a glance before turning towards the door. He quickly walked to it, opening it a crack to listen to the sounds in the hall. Kuryakin heard footsteps coming towards them. Thinking quickly, he quietly closed the door and ran to April.

Mr. Booth walked into his study and found the couple standing with their backs to the door, Sophie leaning into Harry's embrace. "Harry, Sophie, you're back early. What are you doing in my study?" he said in surprise, walking into the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Booth. Sophie wasn't feeling well," Illya said.

"I have a headache, I tried to lie down but that didn't seem to help. I remembered this remarkable view and thought that might help," April added.

"Ah yes, I tend to get migraines myself. You're right, this view is very soothing," he answered, smiling, as he walked towards his desk. He rummaged through a desk drawer and produced a bottle. "Here," he said, shaking out a couple of aspirin. "Take these; they'll help with the headache."

"Thank you." April accepted the proffered pills. "We've intruded long enough. I'll get a glass of water."

As the couple turned to leave, Illya turned one last time and said, "Again, please accept our apologies for the intrusion."

"No worries," Mr. Booth said. He suspiciously watched the couple exit the room and walk to the kitchen. The arms dealer quickly glanced around, looking for anything out of place. He waited until he saw the couple walk past his study once again, on their way to the other side of the house, before he made his way to his hidden lair. Sure now that the couple was away from the room, Booth walked to the bookcase along the north wall and tipped a series of books back in a combination. He stepped aside as the bookcase slid to the right. When it stopped, he put the books back as they were and then stepped inside. No sooner did he step onto the first stone step than the bookcase moved back, once again hiding the secret entrance.

Later that afternoon, Stavros decided to invite April to dinner in an attempt to find out more information on the couple, including how much they were planning on paying for the weapon. April accepted the invitation and went up to her suite to change for dinner. When she walked in, she found Illya lying on the bed with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling and lost in thought. "There you are," she said. "I was wondering where you wandered off to."

Without looking at her he said, "I needed some place quiet to think."

"About what?"

"Our host and the mystery guests."

While she was talking to Illya, April stood in front of the closet and looked through her clothes trying to decide what to wear. "And what conclusions have you come up with?"

"I think one of the mystery guests will be from Thrush."

Having decided what to wear, April grabbed the hanger and took the dress out of the closet. As she reached down for her shoes she said, "Thrush wants to take over the world; why would they buy a nuke?"

When he heard the noises from the closet, Illya turned to face April for the first time. "Where are you going?"

"Stavros invited me to go out to dinner with him," she said as she laid the dress on the bed, placing the shoes on the floor.

Illya rolled over on his side, propping himself on his elbow. "And you accepted?" he asked, trying not to sound jealous.

"Of course I accepted his invitation. Why shouldn't I?" She asked, digging out a slip from the dresser.

Illya looked at her intently; suddenly he did not like the idea of April going off on her own with one of the men they were trying to stop. "He's dangerous."

April pulled the bottom of her blouse from her trousers as she said, "I can take care of myself. Or have you forgotten I scored just as high as Mark at Survival School? Besides, this isn't the first time I've spent time alone with a dangerous man." She smirked, as she was alluding to Illya, while she continued to change.

"April, this is serious," Illya said, sitting up on the bed. "Mobsters are dangerous people. You can't take them lightly."

The redhead paused while changing and looked at the Russian. "Illya, I'll be fine. I know how dangerous everyone in this house is, including you." She slipped the dress over her head and continued. "I'm going. This will be a good opportunity for me to gather some intel." She turned around and said, "Zip me up please."

Illya sighed as he stood from the bed and did as she requested. When finished, April thanked him and walked to the dresser to touch up her makeup. Not another word was said as April finished getting ready to go out. As April reached around her neck to put her necklace on, Illya walked up behind her and placed his hands on hers. He left them there a moment and the partners' eyes met in the mirror.

April was suddenly finding it hard to focus on the mission. When Illya placed his hands on hers they brought back the flood of feelings she'd buried down earlier that morning. Those same hands had assembled bombs as easily as one sets an alarm clock. Strong deadly hands that had taken lives, yet had been so gentle as they caressed her body the night before. She looked at him in the mirror to find him looking at her. April quickly looked away, not wanting to let Illya see the confusion as she struggled to keep her new feelings for the Russian in check. She slowly withdrew her hands from his. Illya held the delicate chain in his hands and opened the lobster claw with the thumb of his left hand. He gently eased the o-ring into the clasp and closed the clasp. The blond moved his hands down to her shoulders and let them rest a moment. "Just... be careful," he quietly said.

That caused April to look back at the mirror. She briefly saw the worry Illya allowed to cloud his eyes before he removed his hands from her shoulders. "I will," she said.

There was a knock at the door as April walked to the bed to put her shoes on. Illya walked to the door and opened it, "Henry, I hope you don't mind, I invited your lovely wife to dinner," Stavros said.

"Not at all," Illya replied, plastering on a fake smile.

With her shoes on, April stood from the bed and walked towards the men. "I'll see you later, my love," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek. The redhead turned to Stavros and the pair walked down the hall, down the stairs and out of the house to Stavros's car.

When April walked out of their suite, Illya closed the door and walked to the dresser. The blond placed his hands on it and leaned forward, dropping his head. He had let his emotions slip, not his proudest moment. The Ice Prince needed to regain control of his feelings, or else he and April could both end up dead. He took several deep breaths before looking up. Illya stared at his reflection; the cold deadly look he gave the enemy was back. Satisfied, he pushed back from the dresser and made his way downstairs.

Just as dinner was wrapping up Illya heard a voice that sent chills down his back. He glanced at the direction of the door to find Angelique talking to the staff with her back towards him. The U.N.C.L.E. agent racked his brain for ideas, wondering if there was any chance he could get out of the room without being seen by the Thrush agent. He had to warn April and to let Mark and Napoleon know what had happened. Illya quickly scanned the room in a futile effort to find another door but knew there wasn't one. He was trapped, a feeling he hated more than he hated Angelique.

The platinum blonde turned to walk into the room and immediately spotted the Russian. "What's he doing here?" she snarled pointing a perfectly manicured finger at the U.N.C.L.E. agent.

"What are you talking about Angelique?" Booth asked unaware that there were two U.N.C.L.E. agents in the sanctuary of his home.

"He's U.N.C.L.E.," she said, stalking forward.

"What? You fool! You let an U.N.C.L.E. agent into our meeting," Gustav spat.

"I didn't know he was U.N.C.L.E.," Booth said.

"Where's your partner?" Angelique asked.

"Napoleon? Probably screwing his wife," Illya shrugged, knowing Angelique held a torch for the American.

Angelique glared at the Russian and pulled her gun out of her purse, aiming it at him. She would have loved to shoot him dead where he sat but they needed to get information from him. First and foremost, where was his partner?

Illya quickly assessed his options. He could throw his steak knife at Angelique but he was still outnumbered. For all he knew, Gustav and Booth were both armed.

"I don't know about a Napoleon, but there was a woman with him," Gustav said.

"A woman? Who is she?" Angelique asked. "No one, just some hooker I picked up on my way here," Illya remarked.

"Since when do you pick up hookers?" Angelique wondered.

Illya wasn't normally crass, unless he was dealing with someone he didn't like. Angelique was one of the few women Illya didn't like and enjoyed toying with. "It's been a while since I got laid," he smirked. The more he could keep the focus on him, the longer April would be safe and the better his chances of his friends rescuing him. He could take whatever beating they dished out.

The Thrush femme fatal advanced on the Russian; she liked having him trapped. "A hooker? You expect me to believe that you brought a hooker with you on a mission. And just how do you expense that? Or are you paying her out of your own pocket," she said.

Illya leaned back in his chair and glanced up at the woman, "Work-related screwing, I can expense this," he shrugged.

Angelique glared at the arrogant Russian and hit him with her gun on the head. She smiled when he slumped forward, unconscious. "Now, I need someplace to interrogate him," she said.

Booth turned to the Thrush operative, smiled maniacally and said, "I know just the place."

"And where would that be?" Gustav asked in the hopes of finding out where the nuke was hidden.

"None of your damn business," Booth growled as he pushed his chair back from the table. He walked over to where Illya sat and picked him up in a fireman's carry. Booth led the way out of the room with Angelique hot on his heels. "Shut the door," he commanded the wait staff that stood in the hall. Booth led the blond bombshell to his study where he easily moved a series of books to open the secret passage while still holding their captive.

"I can't believe you let an U.N.C.L.E. agent into your house," Angelique griped.

"I ran a check on everyone invited to my house," Booth growled as he led the way down the stairs. "Harry and Sophie's check came back clean. Just like yours."

"That's because they were faked," she spat, still stewing over the sight of the U.N.C.L.E. agent.

"I know that now," Booth growled as he dropped the Russian onto the stone floor of the massive room under the house. Illya moaned when his body hit the cold, stone floor; he was slowly coming to. He tried to focus on the voices but was not conscious enough to make out the words. The Russian was aware of a pair of strong hands lifting him off the ground and moving him to something cold, hard and tall? He wasn't sure about the height of whatever it was he was no doubt being tied to. His arms were roughly yanked behind him as his hands were tied with rope. When she finished with the bonds, Angelique walked around the column and slapped Illya hard across the face. "Wake up," she snarled.

Angelique's voice was like nails on a chalkboard as he came fully to. "Why don't you go play in traffic, Angelique?"

Angelique raised a hand to smack him again but was stopped by Booth's hand tightly clamped around her wrist. "Don't waste your time," Booth said. "I can get him to talk," he added as he took off his sport coat. Booth walked to the desk and tossed his jacked on the chair. He rolled up his sleeves as he walked back to the U.N.C.L.E. agent. "Now tell me," he said, looming over the slight man. "Who is the woman that came with you?"

"I told you, she's a hooker I picked up on my way here."

Booth punched Illya across the face. "Do you expect me to believe you brought a whore with you on a mission? Who is she really?"

Illya flexed his sore jaw. He briefly thought the arms dealer had dislocated his jaw. He looked at Booth and said, "It's true."

Booth eyed the man, not sure he believed the Russian. "What's her name?"

"Sophia. She has aspirations of being an actress."

Booth thought it over a moment, wondering if it was worth pursuing. From what he'd overheard as he passed Illya's room the night before, the pair were going at it like dogs. "Fine, she's just some filthy whore you picked up on your way here," he finally said.

It took a great deal of self control to keep from glaring at the arms dealer. Though he was protecting April by claiming she was a hooker, he didn't like Booth calling her a filthy whore. "Yes, a filthy whore," he repeated.

Booth hit the U.N.C.L.E. agent again, "Where's your partner?"

"I told you, screwing his wife," Illya said and was rewarded with another punch.

An hour later, April and Stavros walked back into the mansion. The pair ventured into the parlor for an after dinner drink where they found the German. "You two missed all the excitement," Gustav said.

"What do you mean?" Stavros asked.

"It seems Harry and Sophie aren't who they said they were."

April's heart stopped when she heard Gustav say that. She wondered what had happened while she was out. The redhead took a hearty drink as she listened to the men.

"Who are they then?" Stavros asked.

"Turns out Harry is really an U.N.C.L.E. agent."

"What about Sophie?" the Greek asked, glancing at April.

"Sophie? She's nothing more than a whore," Gustav leered.

'A whore,' April thought. Why would Illya say she was a whore? Something must have happened while she was out for Illya to be protecting her like that. "Excuse my ignorance, but what is U.N.C.L.E.?"

Gustav looked at her oddly; he thought everyone knew what U.N.C.L.E. was. "You don't know?"

"I'm a whore remember? No, I don't know," she said in the hopes of maintaining her new cover.

"U.N.C.L.E.," Stavros said, "Is the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement."

"Really? Sounds fascinating," April said, leaning forward.

"Speaking of Harry, where is he?"

"And Booth, for that matter," Stavros added.

"I don't know," Gustav shrugged. "He and the woman took the U.N.C.L.E. agent out of the dining room and disappeared."

"How long ago was that?" April inquired.

"Why do you ask?" Gustav said, leaning forward.

April shrugged, "I just want to know if I should stay now that Harry has been found out, or if I should leave."

"At least an hour," the German said.

"Ah well, they may be back soon. I think I'll wait for him in our room," she said, standing from the wingback chair she had been sitting in.

Stavros grabbed her arm as she walked past to stop her. "Since Harry isn't here, what do you say we go to my room and you take care of my, ah, needs."

April was repulsed at the notion that the mobster wanted to have sex with her. She did her best not to think of the things he would want her to do. Plastering on a fake smile she said, "You can't afford me," as she continued past the men. April walked up to the room she has been sharing with Illya as quickly as she could. She needed to contact Napoleon and Mark for help. When she reached their suite, April quickly checked the room for bugs before pulling out her communicator to contact the other U.N.C.L.E. agents. With her call made, April then changed into more appropriate clothes before carefully sneaking out of the house to meet the men.

April met Napoleon, Mark and a team of U.N.C.L.E. agents at the far end of the manor grounds. "Where is he?" Napoleon asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "He's here somewhere though."

"Are you sure?" Napoleon asked.

"Yes. There's something about Booth's study that's been bothering me since we searched it this afternoon. He has no information on the nuke or any of us in there. We couldn't even find the device itself anywhere in the house. There has to be a hidden room in the study some place."

"What does the room look like?" Napoleon asked.

"A large picture window on the west wall, built-in bookcases on the north wall. His desk in front of the window, a couple chairs in front of it. Very little decoration. That's it," April shrugged.

The men were silent for a moment, both giving it some thought. "I'll bet it's behind the bookcase," Mark said.

"It can't be there. Illya searched the bookcase while I searched the desk. If there's an entrance there, he would have found it."

"Not if it has a combination lock," Napoleon said.

"A combination lock? Out of books?" April asked incredulously.

"Why not?" Napoleon shrugged.

"All right then, what's the combination?" she challenged, crossing her arms across her chest.

"If I knew that you would have had it hours ago," he said. "Come on, let's get in there. With any luck we can figure out the combination quickly." Napoleon turned to the backup team and ordered them to wait for a call before they went into the house. He then motioned for April and Mark to follow him. The trio snuck into the house through the kitchen and stealthily made their way to the study. April quietly closed the door behind them as the men made their way to the bookcase. They studied the books looking for any clues to help them. April joined them in their quest, first glancing at the books then at the floor. Noticing something odd, she bent down for a closer look.

"This case," she said, pointing to the bookcase in front of Napoleon.

"That's the one that moves."

"What makes you say that?" Napoleon asked.

"Look here," she said, pointing to the floor. "See the scrape marks?"

"Good catch," Napoleon smiled at her discovery. He focused his attention back at the books in front of him. Napoleon noticed a slight wear along the tops of certain volumes. Deciding to try something, he moved a series of books. To their surprise, the bookcase moved aside.

The agents looked at each other, each one unholstering their Special and taking it in hand, preparing to rescue their fellow agent. One by one the agents descended the stairs, April taking the lead. At the bottom of the stairs, the agents followed the dimly lit corridor. Mark studied the walls as they walked. "Looks like this place has been here for over a hundred years," he quietly observed.

"I wonder if it was part of the Underground Railroad," April commented.

"It's possible; we're in the right part of the country for it," Napoleon added. Up ahead they saw a light pooling into the corridor. Spotting the light, Napoleon took the lead, moving April to the center of their little train. Hearing voices, Napoleon motioned for the others to stop and wait as he went ahead, hoping to get a glimpse of the room. Mark and April nodded and obeyed. Napoleon slithered to the entrance and carefully peered around the corner. He found Illya strapped to a pole. His partner had been badly beaten.

"Where's your partner?" Angelique asked the Russian.

Napoleon mentally cursed; this wasn't good. He glanced around the room, looking for the weapon up for sale. Finding the object, he snuck back to the others and quietly relayed the information. "Let's go," Napoleon said.

The trio stormed the room their companion was being held in. "Step away from Illya, Angelique," Napoleon ordered.

"Sophie, how did you get down here? And what are you doing with those men?" Booth asked.

"Sophie? That's April Dancer, you fool!" Angelique spat. "She's an U.N.C.L.E. agent. They all are!"

"Now Angelique, is that any way to talk about us?" Napoleon said. "True, we are U.N.C.L.E. agents but we're not the people that want to rule the world," he said, advancing on their adversaries. Mark followed his lead, keeping his weapon trained on Booth. April moved in to free Illya.

"You were more fun before you settled down," Angelique pouted.

"I'm still the same Napoleon, Angelique," he commented. "Now if you behave, I'll let you leave." When she eyed the bomb, he added, "Without the nuke of course. That is now the property of U.N.C.L.E." Napoleon walked around their captives so that he was between Illya and Angelique.

Mark looked over his shoulder wondering how April was coming along. "How's it going, April?"

"Almost done," she replied, working on the binds.

When Napoleon spared a glance back, Angelique threw a capsule to the floor in front of Mark. The room filled with smoke, causing everyone to cough. Angelique snatched the suitcase and ran for the corridor leading away from the manor. When the smoke cleared enough for the agents to see, Napoleon caught a glimpse of the Thrush femme fatale making a run for it. Solo went in hot pursuit of the blonde bombshell.

Booth frantically looked around and noticed the weapon was missing. He started to run off in the direction of the other two but was stopped by Mark. "Not so fast Booth. Napoleon will take care of Angelique."

Mark reached into his pocket for his pen communicator. He pulled the sleek stylus out and assembled it, never once letting his aim on Booth waiver. Slate radioed in the team Napoleon had waiting outside the manor grounds. Mark included instructions about the bookcase and combination lock to the other team. As Mark called for backup, April successfully freed Illya from his bonds and laid him on the cool ground. "Illya," she murmured, placing a hand on his bruised face. "Illya, look at me." April breathed a sigh of relief at Illya's soft moan. "Come on, Kuryakin, you can do it, open your eyes," she prompted. It took some effort, but Illya finally succeeded in opening his eyes. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Illya," April smiled down at him. Dancer jumped to her feet, Special in hand, at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

"Dalton, did you have any trouble with the other guests?" Mark asked his fellow U.N.C.L.E. agents.

"Not much," the other agent replied.

"Good, here's another one for you," Mark said, handing their host off to the backup team. The agents accepted their new charge and slapped a pair of handcuffs on him before they marched him up the stairs and out of the house to the waiting van. "Where's Napoleon?" Dalton asked.

"He ran down that corridor," Mark said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "He took off after Angelique and the nuke."

Just as Dalton was about to run in that direction, Napoleon walked back into the room, carrying the suitcase. "How's Illya?" he asked.

"I'll live," Illya replied, less than pleased.

Napoleon smiled at his partner's response. "Can you walk?" the American asked the Russian. Illya attempted to sit up but found his body refusing to cooperate. Napoleon handed the suitcase to Dalton then holstered his gun before walking over to help his partner.

"What about Angelique?" Mark asked.

"Don't ask," Napoleon said, effectively ending any further questions. Without saying a word, he knelt down and helped Illya to sit.

April also holstered her gun and lent a helping hand. It took some effort but they slowly helped Illya to his feet. Napoleon wrapped an arm around Illya's waist and held him strongly as they walked. April went ahead with Dalton while Mark brought up the rear. As soon as she was back in the study, April ran and turned one of the chairs around for Illya to sit in. Dalton quickly made his way to the van waiting to take the other agents and their prisoners back to headquarters.

When he arrived in the study Illya walked to the chair, silently grateful April had pulled it closer to the bookcase. He plopped down, needing a moment to catch his breath. "Can you make it to the car?" Napoleon asked.

"Yes," came Illya's short answer without hesitation.

"I'll bring the car to the door," Mark said, running out of the room.

April looked at Illya. "What happened after I left with Stavros?"

"Angelique happened. She was one of the mystery guests scheduled to arrive tomorrow."

"Do you think Booth lied about the time they were arriving?" Napoleon asked.

"No."

Suddenly remembering their luggage, April said, "I'll go pack our bags. Mark should be here with the van by now."

Napoleon nodded in agreement. He turned his attention back to Illya, waiting for him to make a move. Illya steeled himself for the trek to the car. When ready, he nodded to Napoleon for further assistance.

Later that night, after their reports were filed and the agents prepared to part ways for the weekend, they stood in Medical debating who would help Illya get home. "And just why exactly am I taking him home? Why don't you? He's your partner," April said to Napoleon.

"I still have to write my report and Michelle and I are taking the kids to the zoo tomorrow."

"I am perfectly capable of going home alone," Illya, who was standing by the gurney, said.

"Which is why you needed help walking out of the house?" Napoleon reminded him.

"What about Mark?" April asked.

"Sorry luv, I have a date." April rolled her eyes at her partner. In response, he leaned close to April and said in a stage whisper, "If you don't take Illya home, you'll have to write Napoleon's report for him."

April grabbed Illya by the arm and dragged him along. "Come on Kuryakin, let's go."

Mark smiled at the annoyed look Napoleon shot him as the Englishman walked out.

The ride to Illya's apartment was quiet, almost awkward, as April drove. April was wishing she had time to herself to mull over her feelings for Illya. She had tried to run out of the office as soon as she had finished her report, but Napoleon had cornered her and dogged her about taking Illya home.

Dancer pulled up to the curb outside Illya's apartment building, parking the car close to the door. "You don't have to come up, I can manage," Illya said.

Exasperated, April said, "Would you stop being so stubborn for once and let someone help you?" Not waiting for an answer, she exited the car and made her way to the passenger side to help Illya. Once inside the modest apartment, April helped Illya into his bedroom. Too tired for an argument, Illya let April help him change.

"Thank you," he quietly said, sitting in bed as April tucked the blankets around him.

April wearily sank down onto the bed, grateful their mission was over. She looked at him trying to figure out what she was feeling for the Russian. Tired of thinking, she impulsively kissed him. When the kiss ended they looked at each other, neither wanting to stop. Giving into their desires, they kissed again, more passionately.

The next morning Illya woke to find April gone. He looked around the room hoping she hadn't left for her apartment. He was relieved when he found her clothes piled on the floor where she had left them the night before. Hearing noises in the kitchen, he slowly slid out of bed and padded to the other room, not bothering to put any clothes on. He was still in pain from the beating he had received last night and was thankful April had been a gentle lover.

He smiled at the sight before him. April was wearing one of his dress shirts; he liked that. Illya snuck up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. "Morning," he murmured, placing a kiss on the back of her neck.

"Good morning," she purred. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you. Smells wonderful."

"You'd say that about anything," she teased. "I made coffee."

"Mmm," he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

"Would you pour us some coffee, please? Breakfast is ready."

"If you insist," he playfully pouted, walking over to the coffee pot.

She smiled at him. "I do." April turned to get a couple plates which was when she saw Illya for the first time. "Illya, would you at least put a robe on? We need to talk, and it's too distracting talking to you while you sit there naked."

"You look sexy in my shirt," he winked.

"You're not going to put anything on, are you?" she asked. He gave her a mischievous grin. "Fine," she sighed in resignation, "Sit down."

The pair settled at the kitchen table, neither saying a word at first, each enjoying their meal. "This is delicious, thank you," Illya said.

"You're welcome."

"You said we needed to talk?" Illya prompted.

April took a deep breath, "Yes. Illya," she began, taking his hand in hers. "I care about you. I want to pursue these feelings, but I don't want a relationship that is strictly physical."

Illya didn't say anything at first. April began to worry she might have made things awkward. Just as she was about to mentally kick herself, Illya gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I agree," he finally said. When she breathed a sigh of relief, he added, "I've been partnered with Napoleon long enough to learn a thing or two. One is a physical relationship doesn't have any substance. I don't want that."

April smiled in response; she was so glad his partner's days of being a Casanova didn't rub off on Illya.

The couple spent the rest of the morning leisurely lounging around Illya's apartment, talking. They agreed to wait until Illya fully recovered from his beating before going on a date. As it happened, by the end of the week, April and Mark had been sent on another mission while Illya continued to recover. Needing a distraction during his convalescence, Illya brainstormed ideas for dates with April. He wanted to do something nice for their first date. He briefly thought of asking Napoleon for suggestions but after giving it some thought, he nixed the idea. Illya didn't want to deal with the questions and ribbing his partner would give him. The Russian then thought about asking Mark, but changed his mind after deciding he didn't want their partners to know they were going out on a date.

April 14, 1966 U.N.C.L.E. HQ NY

Just when he was back on his feet, Illya was sent out on a mission with Napoleon. That was the start of what became a long, busy time for the agents. As a result of that busy time, the four agents became known as the Fantastic Four within the halls of the U.N.C.L.E. When the two teams were sent on missions, the agents didn't accept failure; it simply was not an option.

One day during that period while the four agents were on lunch, the conversation started out with them discussing music and quickly turned to theater. April mentioned a play she wanted to see, but with their busy schedules, she was afraid its run would end before she was able to go.

Illya made a mental note of the name of the play. 'That would be a good date', he thought. It was settled then, he would take her to dinner and the theater for their first date. Not wanting to say anything in front of their partners, Illya decided to wait for later to ask April for their night out.

That afternoon while the agents were strategizing their next mission, Illya managed to slip away from his partner. He strolled into April's office, carrying a file under the guise of needing information from her. Illya waited until the door had closed behind him before he spoke. "April," he began, sliding up to the side of her desk. "I was thinking, maybe we can go out after this mission."

April leaned back in her chair, smiling up at Illya. "You mean a date?"

"We could call it that," he replied, giving her a small smile, sitting on her desk.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Oh I don't know," he shrugged. "How does dinner sound for starters?"

"That sounds great, what else?" She leaned in, interested.

Smiling, Illya leaned forward. "I was thinking about going to a show."

"What kind of show?"

"That's my little secret."

"A secret huh? Does that mean I have to interrogate you to find out what that is?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

Illya's mind ran wild wondering just what she would do to him. "Not this time, but next time you can do whatever you want."

"Promise?" she purred.

"Promise."

"It's a date then."

Illya smiled and stood up. "I'll see you after the mission," he said, turning to leave.

The next day, the four agents went on a worldwide search for the components to a new weapon that Thrush was planning to acquire as part of their bid to take over the world. The agents spent a grueling two weeks dodging bullets, being used as punching bags, sneaking into and loudly exiting heavily guarded installations. By the time they had the last piece in hand, they were all ready for some much-needed time off. All four agents were exhausted and couldn't wait to go home. To sleep in their own beds, and not have to dodge bullets, run for their lives, or be used as a human punching bag or pincushion. To just have a few days to recover and decompress from the rigors and stresses of their job.

The Fantastic Four were back in New York City, their reports written and filed; they sat in the commissary relaxing for a little while before going their separate ways. As a reward for their hard work, Mr. Waverly had given the four agents two weeks off from work. "So, what's everyone going to do?" Mark asked his friends as they enjoyed a cup of coffee.

Napoleon rested his head on his hand, heavily leaning into it. "Hibernate," came his answer.

"Sleep? With twin one year olds running amuck? I'd like to see that," April teased.

Mark and Illya smiled at the jab. "April?" Mark prompted.

"Well, the first thing I'm going to do is take a long, hot bath."

Illya mentally pictured himself sharing a bath with April - that sounded pleasant. As much as he would love to join her in a tub right then, he reminded himself that it was too soon. They didn't want a relationship based solely on physical gratification; they wanted something more. He quickly pushed such thoughts aside, they were going on their first date now; if things progressed as well as he hoped then he would draw a bath for them some time in the future.

"And after that?" Napoleon asked.

"As little as possible," she wistfully replied. "Mark, what about you?"

"I think I'll take my cue from you two and do very little. Illya?"

"The same."

Despite the midday hour and the coffee, Napoleon was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. He placed his hands on the table to steady himself as he pushed the chair back to stand. "Well, as much fun as we've had, I'm going to go home. I'm sure I'll see you before we're due to report back to work."

Without saying a word, April slid his cup towards herself. "I'll take care of this," she quietly offered.

"Thank you," he said on his way out of the commissary.

A few minutes later Mark departed company as well, leaving April and Illya to themselves. "You look tired," Illya observed.

"Nothing a good soak won't fix," April said.

"Are you up for dinner?" Illya asked, trying to decide when to plan their date.

April smiled at the blond; she could see what he was getting at. "Tonight would be great." Illya smiled to himself, he was relieved to hear they could have their first of hopefully many dates. "In that case," he said, standing, "I'm going to take care of a few things. I'll pick you up at five."

"I'll be waiting." Illya gave her a small smile before walking away.

April relaxed for a few more minutes before leaving for her apartment. She wanted to take a bath before her date and she didn't want to rush getting ready for Illya.

After a quick stop at his apartment to drop off his luggage, Illya went to the theater to purchase tickets for the play April had mentioned before they had left on their worldwide scavenger hunt. With tickets in hand, Illya looked around the theater for a nice place to eat. A restaurant close to the theater would give them more time to eat dinner without rushing. He perused the menus hung in the windows as he walked by each one. To his surprise, he found a small Russian restaurant within walking distance of the theater. That was it, he thought, they would have dinner here, then walk to the theater. With his plans set, Illya drove back to his apartment to get ready for his date.

April relaxed in her bath, the hot water taking away all of the stress remaining from their recent mission. She thought of Illya and smiled; she wondered what he had planned tonight. Suddenly realizing she didn't know what she was going to wear on their date, April stood up from the tub and wrapped a towel around her body. She stopped briefly to unplug the drain on her way to her bedroom.

The redhead stood in front of her closet and looked in, wondering what to wear. All she knew about the night was they were going to dinner and a show, nothing else. Sure, she could have found out, but where was the fun in that? Besides she was sure Illya hadn't told a soul about their date. After staring at her clothes for a few minutes, April decided to wear the little black dress that she had bought during the Booth Affair. She remembered the day well, unbeknownst to Illya he let his mask slip long enough for April to see that he liked what he saw. With that decided, she set about getting ready for her date.

Illya parked his car in front of April's apartment ten minutes early. He exited the car and proceeded to walk through the front door. Just as he was about to ring April's buzzer, another tenant from the building walked out of the security door. Illya took the opportunity to sneak through. The Russian easily jogged up the stairs to the third floor and walked down the hall to April's apartment. He took a moment to collect himself before knocking on the door.

April glanced at her watch, wondering who was at the door; it wasn't 5:00 yet. Walking to the door, she asked who it was, as she looked out the peephole. When she heard Illya's voice, she smiled and opened the door. "You're early," she remarked, standing aside for Illya to enter.

"I hope I'm not too early."

"No, not too early. I just need to get my coat." Illya gave her a smile as April walked to the hall closet.

Moving on impulse, Illya took the coat from April and held it for her to slip into.

April paused a moment, not used to having her coworker hold her coat for her. She mentally shook her head; they were going out on a date and he was being a gentleman. The redhead smiled and slid her arms into the coat.

"So, where are we going?" April asked as they walked to the car.

"I found a Russian restaurant by the theater called 'Mamma's Kitchen'."

"Theater? So we're going to the theater? What are we going to see?"

"You tell me," Illya smiled, holding the passenger door open for April.

"What do you mean?" she asked perplexedly, standing next to the car.

"What play did you say you wanted to see?"

April thought it over a moment. When did she mention wanting to see a play with Illya in the room? Suddenly it dawned on her. It was as they were preparing for their last mission. She smiled at him and placed a hand on his. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmured, waiting for April to sit in the car. Once she was seated, he closed the door and walked around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.

The ride to the restaurant was companionably silent, neither feeling the need to fill the quiet. They simply enjoyed the quiet, relaxing time. Illya was silently grateful for the relatively light traffic that Saturday. Making it to the restaurant in a few short minutes, Illya pulled the car into a nearby parking garage and had no problem finding a spot. The couple exited the car and walked to the eatery.

Illya held the door open for April, allowing her to walk in first. April smiled to herself; she liked the way he was being so chivalrous. In their line of work, that wasn't something she was used to. A young brunette approached the couple as they walked in. "How many?" she asked with a moderate Russian accent, reaching for menus.

"Two," Illya replied in Russian. "We'd prefer a table in the back, please."

She smiled at the couple and motioned for them to follow her. Illya paused a moment, allowing April to precede him. They walked through the bustling restaurant to a table in the back of the room. "Here you go," the waitress said in Russian, placing the menus on the table. "Would you like something to drink?"

Illya held a chair out for April to sit. April quickly slid out of her coat and sat down. Illya reached for it and placed it on the back of her chair.

"Just water, please," April replied in Russian.

"I'll have the same," Illya added, sitting in his chair across from April, having draped his coat along the back of the chair. Their waitress nodded and walked away.

The couple browsed the menus while their server gathered their drinks. "What were you thinking of ordering?" April asked, finding it difficult to decide what to eat.

"I think I'll order the borscht."

"That sounds good; so do the pirushkis. I just can't decide."

Before he had a chance to say anything, their waitress returned to take their order. "We'll both have the borscht and a plate of pirushkis," Illya said.

"Meat or potato?" their pleasant waitress asked.

"Both," Illya replied.

"Sour cream or onions?"

Illya looked at April. "Sour cream," she answered, thinking that the last thing she needed tonight was onions. He nodded.

The waitress gave them a smile as she turned to walk to the kitchen.

"You look tired," Illya observed, continuing their conversation in Russian.

"So do you. Did you get a chance to relax or take a nap after you left headquarters?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea, we should have done this another night."

"Nonsense," April said, placing a hand on his. "We just got off a mission, yes, but that's a job hazard. There won't always be a perfect time for a date. We have to make the best of what we have." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Besides, sometimes it's the less than perfect dates that are the most memorable."

Illya gave her a small smile in response; he was relieved to hear her say that. "So, what do you think Napoleon is doing right now?" April asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Smiling mischievously, Illya responded, "The twins are probably climbing all over him wanting to play."

April chuckled at the imagery. "Poor Napoleon, he looked like he could fall asleep where he stood."

"So... what would your dad say if he found out you were dating me?" Illya cared for April but he was nervous about what her family thought of him. He didn't want to cause any strife between April and her family, knowing how precious family was.

"Well, considering the fact that he's the only person in my family that knows I'm working for U.N.C.L.E., I don't think he'd say anything."

"What about the rest of your family?"

"They'll love you," April smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. Now just relax and enjoy the night."

Their waitress returned with a tray loaded with food. She carefully placed the bowls of borscht in front of each of them, then placed the plate of pirushkis between the couple. "Thank you," they said in unison.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, thank you," Illya replied. The waitress quickly departed, leaving the couple alone.

April placed her napkin on her lap and reached for her spoon. She dipped it into her bowl, filling it with the borscht. Illya watched her closely as she lifted the spoon to her lips. "Shouldn't you be the one telling me how this tastes?" April teased. Illya gave her a rueful smile as she placed the spoon in her mouth. She savored the taste a moment before giving her curious date her own review. "It's delicious."

It was April's turn to watch as Illya tasted the hot brew. "Delicious, just like my mother's." "You still miss your family, don't you?"

"Sometimes," Illya quietly admitted.

April placed a hand on his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here for you."

"Thank you," he murmured.

The couple enjoyed the rest of their meal, idly chatting, getting to know one another better. Illya kept an eye on his watch, wanting to make sure they didn't dawdle so long that they were late for the play. When they were ready to leave, Illya placed a handful of bills on the table before helping April with her coat. As the couple walked to the theater down the street, April looped her arm around Illya's. After the play was over, the couple walked back to Illya's car. Illya once again held the door open for April, waiting for her to sit down. Then he closed the door and, as before, walked around the front of the car to slide behind the wheel. Illya gave into a yawn he had been fighting off for a while. "Do you want to stop for some coffee?" April asked.

"No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Illya nodded in response. April decided to not let Illya drive home from her apartment, but instead to have him spend the night. She didn't want him to fall asleep behind the wheel, even though it would have been a relatively quick drive home. "I had a lovely time tonight," April said, giving him a smile. "I really liked the restaurant; we should go there again some time."

It warmed his heart to hear that she was hoping this wouldn't be their last date. "I'm glad you enjoyed our date. We will go back to that restaurant soon," he promised, taking her hand in his.

Deciding to seize the opportunity, April squeezed his hand and covered their hands with her right hand. "Illya, when we get to my place, you are going to spend the night. No arguments; you're exhausted and I don't want you falling asleep behind the wheel."

Too tired to come up with excuses, Illya merely said "Okay," silently thankful for the respite April was giving him.

"Good," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

The rest of the drive to April's apartment was spent in companionable silence. April was glad her stubborn date had not put up an argument about spending the night. She cared about the Russian and had no plans of ending their budding relationship any time soon.

Later in April's apartment, Illya removed his coat and shoes and padded to the couch where he sat down while April locked the door and set the alarm. He gave the couch a cursory feel, wondering if he would be comfortable on it. Overtaken by a big yawn, he thought he could sleep in a Thrush holding cell and still be comfortable, he was that tired. Just as he began to lie down, April grabbed his hand and said, "Come on, the bed is more comfortable."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Illya, we're both adults, we can sleep in the same bed and not have sex. Besides, the bed really is more comfortable than the couch. You look like you need a good night's sleep."

Illya ceded to his date and slowly began to peel off his suit jacket. "I'd offer you something to sleep in, but I don't think you would want to wear a nightgown," April said as she gathered up her nightgown to change in the bathroom.

Illya gave her a small smile. "I'll be fine," he said as he neatly placed his clothes on the bench at the foot of her bed. Deciding to leave his underwear on, Illya crawled into bed, settling himself under the covers. He relished the feel of her mattress. It was very comfortable, he thought. Illya closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her linens; she must have changed them earlier today. They smelled like they were freshly laundered.

Just as sleep was beginning to overtake him, he heard the light switch off. Still keeping his eyes shut, he felt the covers move and a weight shift next to him. April let the covers slip out of her grasp as she settled further onto the bed. She curled up against Illya, resting her head on his shoulder. "Illya?" she said.

"Hmmm," he murmured, wrapping an arm around her.

"Let's do this again."

"Okay."

The couple fell fast asleep, finally getting the rest their weary bodies so longed for.