The Now You See Him Affair
by Charlie Kirby

Napoleon Solo looked up at the gentle tap on his office door, "Yes?"

The secretary peeped through the crack in the door at the head of UNCLE - North America. "Mr. Solo, your new desk is here. Security just finished going over it and we're bringing it up."

"Fine, Ms. Halbreath. Show them in." Napoleon stood, picking up his coffee cup and pausing to run a hand over the marred surface of the old desk one more time. He'd given lots of assignments from this desk, received several, too, for that matter. Mr. Waverly had been found dead, slumped across the mahogany top almost twelve years earlier. The desk itself had watched Solo grow from a nervous field agent to a confident Section 1, Number 1. It was almost a shame to have it go.

"Is everything out of this?" he asked his secretary as she stepped fully into the room to direct the furniture movers.

"I think so, but you might want to check one more time." She smiled at her boss. "We wouldn't want anything to get away."

Napoleon nodded in agreement and pulled open each drawer in turn; then, almost as an afterthought, he began to remove them completely, stacking them on top of the desk.

"What a mess. There must be a year's supply of paperclips in here." Then he stopped. Something among the accumulated dust, pens, pencils, and other garbage on the bottom had caught his attention. It was a piece of paper, no, not a piece of paper, an old assignment folder. He knelt and reached in, jabbing a knuckle on a screw as he did. "Ouch."

"Did you hurt yourself?" The woman leaned close enough for Napoleon to catch a whiff of her Chanel No. 5. A few years ago, he would have made a play for her, but those days were long gone. In a normal office, if you treated women like meat, you might well end up out of a job. Here, you could just as easily end up dead.

"Not badly, but I believe I found an old report folder." He worked it loose from where age had glued it to the wood and pulled it out, shaking the debris from its cover carefully into his trash can. "It's marked 'highly confidential' and... oh my God, it's dated over twelve years ago. We've had an agent out that long?"

"Impossible. That would have been in Mr. Waverly's days."

"Are we missing anyone?" Napoleon ignored the groan from the furniture movers. They were being paid by the hour, so they could just wait until he was ready for them.

Ms. Halbreath's brow furrowed with thought and she slowly shook her head. "No sir, as far as I know all our agents are accounted for. That folder was before either of us came to this office."

"Come on, mister, where do you want dis? We don't got all day!" One of the two furniture movers was obviously champing at the bit to get to lunch.

"No, I imagine you don't, to your way of thinking." Napoleon smiled gently at his secretary and used his handkerchief to brush off the folder. "I'll take this home tonight and see what it has to say." He tucked it into his briefcase and snapped it shut. "In the meantime, I think over here by the window would be good."

Wearily, Napoleon balanced the glass of scotch and sank down onto his bed, sighing. Some days, this job was harder than other. He'd lost four good men today, his Section 2, Number 1 was critical and the man's partner was in no condition for questioning. It had all seemed so easy when he and Illya had done it that he had forgotten the bad parts until nights like these.

Illya... Napoleon smiled at the name and looked over at a photograph. It was one of the few he had of them together, taken at some UNCLE function, although he couldn't remember what it had been. The years sped by now, but Napoleon could still see the Russian, smirking at some comment, still half expected to hear the accented voice over his shoulder, making a suggestion or a joke. Tomorrow, he would visit Illya's grave and see how the new flowers were doing. Perhaps even have a little talk with his old friend. However, it had been thirteen years since he'd had an answer.

Napoleon still blamed himself for his partner's death and had been inconsolable throughout the funeral and the graveside ceremony. Waverly had sent Illya out into the field alone. Napoleon ignored his gut feelings and let Illya go. They made plans for dinner that evening; Napoleon even had the chessboard set up when the call came through that Agent Kuryakin had been killed in the line of duty.

Napoleon hadn't even been permitted to say good-bye properly; they wouldn't let him see the Russian down in the morgue and the damage to Illya had been so extensive that a closed casket had been necessary. When he tried to open the coffin, Napoleon had found it locked. He'd pulled his gun and was preparing to shoot it open when Section Three took him down.

Napoleon sniffed and shook his head. It was hard even now. He needed something to take his mind off of it. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he remembered. The report folder; of course, that would do the trick. A bit of a mystery from days gone by was just what he needed tonight.

He got his briefcase, another shot of scotch, and put on his reading glasses. He flipped the cover of the folder open and began to read. He was halfway down the first page when his hands started to shake uncontrollably. His heart came to a near stop when he read the assigned agent's name - Illya Kuryakin. This had been Illya's last assignment, the one he'd died on... He couldn't continue the thought, so instead he kept reading and the more Napoleon Solo read, the harder it became to believe the words before him.

Daniel Westin sprawled out on a towel on the warm concrete around the swimming pool and dozed. He had an ice cold beer within easy reach, and two whole days off, with not a single blessed thing to do.

Kate Westin appeared at the gate to the pool, looking trim in her bikini and paused, obviously looking for him. He grinned happily and decided that he had one or two things he could manage to work into his schedule this weekend.

"Danny, where are you?" She didn't take any chances these days, not after tripping over him a couple of months earlier. It hadn't been her fault entirely, as she didn't know he was partially unconscious on the floor of the hotel room. He'd caught an accidental left hook that had slammed him back into the wall. She'd heard the fight and rushed in to help him. Kate ended up with a sprained wrist for her effort while Dan got a cracked rib and a stern lecture about the importance of calcium for older men for his part. Life with an invisible man was seldom simple, but it wasn't the sort of problem you wrote to Ann Landers about.

"Here, Kate." He propped himself up on his elbows and lifted the beer can to her in a salute. "What do you need?"

"Two things really. First, be careful of the sun. That experiment didn't end well as I recall. We both now know how susceptible you are to UV rays."

"Yes, there are parts of the human anatomy that should never get sun burned --"

"Two, Walter is on the phone for you and he sounds a little anxious."

Dan groaned, "Tell him I've flown south. Tell him you can't find me. Tell him I've decided to pursue a life of crime."

"Nice try, sweetheart, but he said urgent and that it involved the KLAE Resource." She paused. "Danny, he sounds really concerned about something."

"This is truly what I needed to round out this God-forsaken week. We are never going to find all those invisible mice. He's working us into nervous breakdowns, you know that." Dan rose, still grumbling, and walked to the gate, using the opportunity to caress Kate's shoulder and run a finger down her spine. He walked into the house and picked up the phone.

"Hello, Walter."

"So what if I am?" came the immediate reply.

"What?"

"What if I am working you to a nervous breakdown? It's my prerogative. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about having to bother you. I need you here, Dan, ASAP."

"But, Walter, you promised that Kate and I --"

"This is really important, Dan. Don't argue with me this time... please."

"All right, Walter." Dan was puzzled by the urgency in the voice. "Give me a few minutes to dress and we'll be along --"

"No, just you, Dan."

Dan frowned at that. Never had just his services been requested. He and Kate were a package deal. "If that's what you want."

"Thank you." There was audible relief in Walter's voice and Dan shook his head slowly as he hung up.

"What was that all about?" Kate watched the receiver cradle itself as if by magic. Then she smiled as she felt arms encircling her waist, as lips nuzzled her neck.

"I don't know. Walter is all upset about something. He even said please... to me, of all people." Dan kissed the soft skin, inching closer to her ear.

"Strange." Kate tipped her head a bit more to the side. "Not our Walter at all."

"Even stranger, he just wants me."

She pulled away to look where his face would be if she could see it. "Is that some sort of code?"

"I don't think so." He dipped in to kiss her cheek. "But there's one way to find out." He hugged her and then released her. "Don't forget where I left off. With any luck, I'll be back before anything cools off."

"With you, that's unlikely." She slapped and grinned as she caught part of one side of his ass.

"Ouch..."

"Warned you about the sunburn... you should wear sun block..."

"A walking mass of zinc oxide, now there's an image for you..." He caught and kissed her hand. "Back by five, I promise."

"You'd better be. You're barbecuing tonight..."

"And later, I shall be 'grilling' something else far more pleasing."

"Dan, just go! I can't take much more! The faster you leave, the sooner you'll be back."

Dan Westin tucked his ID badge back into his jacket pocket and walked hurriedly to the private elevator to his boss's office. The lobby was nearly deserted and no one paid him a second look. And that was just the way he liked it.

Ever since Dan's attempt at invisibility had gone awry, he'd been tied to Walter Carlson and the KLAE Corporation. Nowhere else could he get the money or facilities to rebuild his machine and recreate his computer programs that he needed to correct his situation. Here he had a well furnished lab with enough funding to do what he needed and the privacy to work.

In return, Walter got his pound of flesh by calling upon the KLAE Resource, as Kate and Dan were referred to nowadays, as often as possible. At KLAE, only Carlson knew about Dan's invisibility and he used that knowledge to his advantage, accepting only the most difficult and highest paying jobs for Dan's special talents.

And they both knew that the clock was ticking. Dan was getting close to perfecting that machine and Walter was anxious to bring in as much money as he could exploiting Dan's current condition. Success would mean a double edged sword for them both. Dan would have his life back, but could in effect, lose his lab and funding. Walter Carlson would lose the KLAE Resource, but have a machine of immense power and capability. Both of them would be losers and winners.

Dan waited for the doors to slide open and walked into Walter's office. "All right, Walter, I'm here. What is so important that it couldn't wait until Monday?"

"He is." Walter nodded at someone seated in front of his desk. Dan could see the back of the man's head in one of the two leather chairs and it turned slowly and looked at Dan.

Dan felt his world shift just a bit that moment. He'd not seen Napoleon Solo in thirteen years. At times, he wasn't even sure he'd not just dreamt the man up. When he was visible, he could look at the scars and know the truth, see the evidence that UNCLE and that life had been real. Now it was harder to separate the man he used to be from the man he was.

Worse, Napoleon knew him, possibly better than anyone on the planet. Not even Kate knew all the truth about her husband, the things he'd seen, the things he'd done. He had told her just enough to satisfy her curiosity.

"Hello, Illya." The voice was still strong and confident. Napoleon was looking a little older and a little heavier, but so was Dan. The man was still the suave and debonair Napoleon Solo, still his partner, if no longer his friend.

Sometimes life just kicks you in the ass when you least expect it, Dan thought, stopping midstride and taking a deep breath. He wanted to rush to the man and gather him in his arms, tell him how much the separation had hurt him, how much he'd missed him, anything that would take the tightness from Napoleon's voice and the constriction from his throat. But Dan knew he couldn't. One touch and Napoleon would know, just as he always knew.

Napoleon stood slowly, as if in pain, and took a step towards him and Dan retreated a step. "So that's how it is, is it?" The resignation in Napoleon's voice threw him.

Finally, Dan ventured, "I was wondering when someone would finally check up on me." There was an undertone of bitterness in his voice that his face failed to carry.

"Is that all you can say after all this time? Twelve years and that's it?" Napoleon stood, obviously furious and conflicted. Dan had the advantage. Nothing played in his eyes or across his face. The mask and contact lenses took care of that. People only saw what he damn well wanted them to see these days. So, while Napoleon's anger and angst colored his face red, Dan's was neutral.

"Why don't you sit down, Mr. Solo, and we can discuss this like adults?" Walter was very protective of Dan these days and that brought a smile to Dan's lips. Walter's hand was drifting towards the security button and Dan shook his head slowly.

"It's okay, Walter, I used to work with Mr. Solo... many years ago. Could you excuse us for a few minutes?" Dan shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and nodded to the door. It was taking everything he had to control his temper, his anger at having been sent out into the cold with no support. He'd not go back now. He couldn't go back now.

"I don't know... will you be okay, buddy?" Walter rose slowly, obviously doubtful. He walked around the desk and placed a proprietary hand on Dan's shoulder squeezing it gently. Dan nodded and smiled.

"I'll be fine, Walter. If things get bad, I'll just... disappear."

"I'll be right outside if you need me."

"Thanks."

Dan waited until his boss reluctantly left before he turned back to Napoleon. "I think we both need to sit down, Napoleon."

"How can you be so damn calm about this?" Napoleon sank back down into the chair, his fingers gripping the armrests hard enough to dimple the stiff leather.

"Because losing my temper is not going to make things any better." Dan nodded to the security cameras, a necessary precaution after Walter had been held hostage by a crazed inmate. "If I go on a rampage, security will show up and remove you from the building. That most certainly won't solve things."

"You've got some explaining to do," Napoleon said tightly. He was looking around the room now, apparently realizing for the first time that he wasn't on UNCLE turf. Here KLAE called the shots.

"Me? You hang me out here to dry for thirteen year? No recall, no nothing!" Dan flopped down in Walter's vacant seat. All he could think was that UNCLE had somehow found out about his experiments and was here to make a prior claim on him and his work. As far as he was concerned, that UNCLE was no better now than the government officials he fought against. "Why has UNCLE all of a sudden decided to pay me a visit?" He poked his chest with his finger. "I can't believe this is a social call and I don't believe in coincidence."

"Do you think for one minute I give a damn about what you believe?" Napoleon snapped.

Nobody talked to Dan like that, not anymore, and as refreshing as it was to be given a little flack, Dan wasn't in the mood. "So you were just in the neighborhood and decided to drop in? I'm amazed you even remember what I look like."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, Napoleon, nothing! No friends, no contacts, left out here to dry with no support or back up. Do you have any idea what that was like? You couldn't even be bothered to pick up the phone. I thought we had something special... I guess I was wrong."

He leaned back in the chair and studied his former partner, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm down.

"We just found the file." Solo tossed the wrinkled folder at him none too gently. "It was lodged in the bottom of his desk. None of us even knew it was there."

"So Waverly just conveniently forgot about me for thirteen years? The Old Man's memory is going." Dan tossed it aside.

"Illya, he's been dead for over twelve. I came in one morning and found him at his desk. He'd just dropped in his traces. It was hard on all of us. It was hell, Illya. UNCLE very nearly didn't survive. And there wasn't one day that went by that I didn't wish you were there backing me up."

"I didn't know --"

"Of course not! You were too busy wallowing in self pity, Illya. You never gave a damn about anyone else in your life and I guess that hasn't changed."

Napoleon was on his feet now, leaning over the desk, closer to Dan than he'd prefer. He leaned further back in the chair. In the old days, his eyes would have sent a 'back off' message to Napoleon, but not today.

"You're wrong," he said, finally.

"You were dead, Illya! Do you know what seven kinds of hell I went through?" Napoleon's voice was getting tighter and louder. "I had never felt like that ever before. I never want to feel like that again. All because of you!"

Now Dan was on his feet, leaning forward on his knuckles. "And you think I had a walk in the park? I was undercover, so far undercover that only Waverly knew. Do you think I didn't know what it was going to do to you?"

He took off, pacing to the window. Outside, it was a pleasantly warm and sunny day. The birds were singing, Kate would be moving around the house, humming to herself, her mind on happy weekend things, while Dan was in a fight for his entire existence. "Did you ever think what it did to me? I lost my right arm, Napoleon, so don't play the 'you didn't know' card. I know very well what you were going through because I was going through exactly the same thing."

"But you knew I was alive!" Napoleon stormed over to him, arms waving as he walked.

"No, I didn't! Do you know how it felt to know that you might walk into something, be killed simply because I wasn't watching your back anymore? You'd die and it would be my fault because I was here and you were.... wherever you were." There was an uncomfortable silence and Dan's gaze dropped as he plopped down on a small settee. "So, Waverly's dead, what does that make you?"

"Section 1, Number 1 for North America and I hate it. Every single day it's knowing that I'm ultimately responsible for the lives of dozens of young men...in some ways, it's tougher than being a field agent..." He caught himself and closed his eyes, almost as if in pain, swaying slightly. After a moment, he opened them and found a chair. His voice became very soft, "Illya, what happened?"

"KLAE was working on a top-secret project that UNCLE was extremely interested in. Because of my background in physics, it made sense to send me in." Dan dropped his gaze down to his hands as he dry washed them. It seemed like yesterday that he'd been called into Waverly's office, told of his assignment and of the sacrifice he was expected to make. He hadn't been asked if he was okay with the decision. He'd argued long and hard, demanding Napoleon be brought in, but in the end Waverly got what he wanted.

"Just another assignment..." The bitterness was back in Napoleon's voice.

"Waverly dreamt up my 'death' to keep THRUSH off my trail. He was concerned that if they got in with KLAE first, the world would pay a huge price. The Old Man figured what I was losing didn't amount to much."

"Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't you?"

"Face it, Napoleon, you are one of the most watched faces in the organization. To make it convincing, you had to think I was dead... really dead." Dan stopped and sighed. Even after all these years, he could still feel the sense of futility and despair. He had hated what Waverly was doing and he had been helpless to stop it. "That was the only way THRUSH would believe it and not go looking for me. Waverly didn't want any mistakes; the project was that important. I was taken directly from Waverly's office without even having a chance to send you a message, although I tried two or three times. Each one was intercepted."

"So, do you mind telling me who I've been mourning at your graveside?"

"Illya Kuryakin. Waverly went to the morgue, found someone of the appropriate size and weight and then fixed it up, just in case you decided to prove it to yourself and dig me up."

"I nearly did, you know." A sad smile had taken over Napoleon's face. "So many days, twice as many nights I sat there and grieved for you. They nearly locked me up."

"Waverly though that you might. I was sent out here that night, given a new name and history, and here I sat, waiting for a recall order that never came. The longer I stayed, the more involved I got in things. My life is here now, just as yours is with UNCLE." Dan picked up a pen and fiddled with it, just to give his hands something to do. "He promised me that he'd tell you after four months, six at the outside. When I didn't hear, I figured at first you were just angry with me... and as the time went on, I figured you were either dead or thought yourself well rid of me." He stopped and studied Napoleon, now so very much a stranger to him. "The sad part was that the experiment failed spectacularly. I sent Waverly a message and waited. When he didn't recall me, like a good agent, I stayed put."

"Are you happy here, Illya?"

The question was so soft Dan very nearly didn't hear it. He glanced over at Napoleon. He was staring at a bookcase, but he wasn't seeing it. Dan didn't know what he was seeing, but he knew he needed to be truthful now. "Yes, although it wasn't easy at first. I now have a job that occasionally depresses, but usually inspires me and when I get home at night, the biggest decision I have is whether to make love to my wife in the living room or the bedroom... or somewhere in between."

"You're... married?" Napoleon sounded amazed and Dan guessed his former partner had never found anyone to fill that spot in his life.

"Almost ten years now. She was assigned as my lab partner and one thing led to another. Here's her picture." Dan squirmed as he dug out his wallet out of his jeans and flipped it open. It was one of his favorites. Kate was laughing because he was just out of camera range, tickling her. "She was trying to be very solemn and I refused to let her. She's at her most beautiful when she's laughing. There was hell to pay later that night." He smiled at the memory, then sobered at Napoleon's melancholy.

Napoleon glanced briefly at the dark haired, dark eyed woman and smiled sadly, nodding. "She looks nice."

"Nice? Gorgeous, you mean." Dan smiled at the photo before returning it to his hip pocket as the silence began to grow between them. "I'm not going back, Napoleon, and there's nothing UNCLE can do to change that."

"You'd be welcomed, you know," Napoleon said and it hung in the air between them. "There is always a place for you at UNCLE."

"No, I can't. There's Kate..." Dan sat back and shook his head slowly.

"You could bring her with you."

"You bet your ass I would," Dan snapped, then added. "But I won't ask her to do that. She has a career here too, along with her life and friends. I won't ask her to give that up. You don't understand, Napoleon. I'm no longer Illya Kuryakin - Super Spy. He's gone and I'm Daniel Westin, a whole new person. It's incredibly freeing."

Then Napoleon reached out and caught one of Dan's hands. The reaction was immediate and Napoleon's eyes began to study his face as nimble fingers explored first one hand, then the other. "Illya, I don't... what's wrong?"

"I had an accident... in the lab. It was grandstanding on my part and I deserved the consequences."

"Accident?" Napoleon was immediately all attention and he reached out to Dan's head, presumably to pull him into a hug and frowned when his fingers came in contact with the wig. "What happened? What's wrong with your hair? Your hands? I can't see anything."

"And thereby hangs the problem," Dan murmured, smiling. "A plastic surgeon friend of mine fixed me up, but I'm tethered to this place until I can make things right again. I owe it to Kate to make it right."

"Why? Illya, we have doctors, good ones." Napoleon's eyes continued to search, pleading with him. "We can help you."

"Not for what happened to me, I'm afraid. I'm the only one who can fix me. Well, me and Kate."

"Illya... are you dying? Are you in pain?" Napoleon asked in a hushed voice, his eyes dark.

"One day at a time like everyone else, old friend. And any pain I suffer comes from a misspent youth. You should know, you were there." Dan tried to make a joke, but it fell flat.

"Then what happened?"

"I will tell you, but I need your word, Napoleon, that not a word of this leaves this room. This is a highly classified secret and if the wrong people found out about it, well, let's just say it wouldn't be pretty. Waverly sent me here to keep one secret away from THRUSH and what I discovered made that situation pale in comparison."

"I swear on my life."

"No, swear on our partnership. That was the one thing I always counted on."

"Our partnership then. What happened?"

"This happened." Dan slipped his hands behind his head and felt for the Velcro straps. He ripped them free and pulled off his mask, smiling as Napoleon caught his breath.

Napoleon had obviously been expecting scarring, mutilation, but not the blank void he saw. At first he simply stared and then he got to his feet to move closer, his hand out. It was inevitable, people just had to touch. Napoleon gasped when he touched warm flesh and his fingertips glided over Dan's face and head. "You're... my God, you're bald. Illya, you're bald."

"You're getting a little thin on top yourself, my friend." He eased away from Napoleon's fingers. "I have to shave about twice a day or the itching drives me crazy. No eyebrows either. Kate says that when I become visible again, I'll have to go into hiding until everything grows back."

"Are you like this all over?" Dan could tell the wheels were starting to turn and reality, his reality, was starting to kick in.

"Bald? No. Invisible -yes, unfortunately...or fortunately if you're in Walter Carlson's shoes. He refers to Kate and me as the KLAE Resource. We're sent in to fix little problems that regular agencies can't touch. With my background, I'm a natural. In exchange, I get a lab and funding to work."

"Such as?" Napoleon retook his seat, his eyes never leaving Dan.

"Defection, kidnapping, blackmail, espionage, you get the idea."

"You're in the same line of work as me then. You get shot at, chased, captured, etc."

"Can't catch what you can't see and the Russians only tried to kidnap me once. I... we discouraged them from trying that again."

Napoleon's gaze dropped to his lap as his hand busily smoothed the creases in his trousers. "Illya, could you put your face back on please? It's a little difficult talking to thin air."

"Sorry, I forget how unnerving it is." Dan tugged the mask on and settled the wig into place. "Better?"

"Thank you. That's why I couldn't read you earlier. I thought our connection was gone, but your eyes, they were dead to me."

"Contact lenses. Without them, I have no eyes. Of course, I no longer have to wear glasses anymore."

"Your wife must have been thrilled." Napoleon managed a weak smile.

"Kate's also a scientist and she was working on the project with me, just something to bide our time in between other projects. I was trying to perfect tele-transportation, but what I discovered instead was invisibility. When I found out KLAE was planning to use it for military purposes, I came back in and destroyed the machine, after turning it on myself."

"Still idealistic, I see," Napoleon said dryly.

Dan sighed, long and deeply. "Well, the invisibility was supposed to last just long enough for me to escape. I had an antidote and it worked like a charm, the first couple of times. Then something went wrong. The process reversed itself and... shatzlam kaput," he paused and laughed drily before resuming. "Nick was able to make it right so that I at least have some semblance of a normal life. Then I came crawling back here, begging for them to take me back so I could try to figure out where I'd gone wrong."

"Nick?"

"The aforementioned plastic surgeon. He'd been working on this synthetic skin for burn victims and was able to make me visible again. He gave me the chance to continue my work and in turn, I hope that it will one day help him with his." Dan stood and walked to a bar. There he poured out two shots of whiskey and carried one over to his former partner.

"And this is why you can't leave?"

"Could you? KLAE's given me a lab and all the money and equipment I need to rebuild the machine. I can't leave until I've finished that. Problem is that I was forced to start from scratch as I even went so far as to burn my notes. I certainly don't want to stay as I am now, although there's a certain rush about being able to walk around naked all the time." He downed the alcohol in one gulp. "I owe it to Kate to stay and work this thing through. I'm sorry, Napoleon."

"So am I, but I suppose I was living in a dream world to think it could all be the way it used to be. You and me, back together again, just like the old days."

"Are you the same man you used to be, Napoleon? Things change, my friend. You ...you probably couldn't stand me now."

"At least I know you're alive. It wasn't easy for me, Illya." Napoleon sipped the alcohol carefully.

"You don't know the number of times I wanted to pick up that phone, but the years passed and I became afraid to, worried that you might be dead or about what your reaction would be or whether you'd even believe it was me or think it just another THRUSH trick."

"You're right; I wouldn't have."

Dan crossed to Napoleon and squatted before him. Reaching out, he took Napoleon's forearm and squeezed it. "I truly am sorry, old friend. I never meant for you to suffer. It was just supposed to be me."

"Life has a funny way of kicking us in the ass, doesn't it?" Napoleon covered Dan's hand with his own and squeezed it in return.

"It always has and we always managed to come out on the other side. That's why we survived when others didn't. We were an unbeatable team and Waverly knew it." Dan stood and walked to the window, then looked back over his shoulder. "Come home with me, Napoleon, and meet Kate. It's important you know what a special lady she is."

"Asking for my approval?"

"Not your approval, Napoleon, your friendship. You don't know how I missed that. I love Kate, but you." Dan paused and then shook his head. "You were all that and then some."

The door opened and Walter entered again, his movements cautious. "Have you two come to an agreement then?"

"You might say he's...ahem...seen the light, or lack thereof," Dan mumbled, winking at Napoleon.

"Then get out of my office and leave my whiskey alone. I want to see you first thing Monday morning with the Dominkov file. And bring Kate. And pack for warm weather." He walked to his desk and sat down.

"Kate will be thrilled. She's been hinting about a tropical holiday."

"Money laundering and I don't pay you to vacation on KLAE's budget."

Dan waited for Napoleon to rise before draping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close to whisper. "Don't let him fool you. I'm one of the biggest advantages he has. I make all his nasty little problems just... disappear." He hugged Napoleon then. "Come on, partner. Let's go home."