It's no less than he deserves.
Even though spying was what he did, what he was, and had been for years upon
years, it was still his own fault. Curious ears heard many things, useful
tidbits to be tucked away for later, tasty little morsels of information. But
there was the inevitable flip, the dark side of the peephole and they also heard
things that they shouldn't. Curiosity and cats and rabbits down holes, and Illya
wanted nothing less than to tumble in after them.
But how was he supposed to have known Napoleon would be on the telephone? He
hadn't really meant to listen; he had only come to ask Napoleon what he wanted
from room service. It was only a habit to lean against the door, to slow his
breathing so it wouldn't be heard. He'd only been trying to be helpful and
instead, he learned something new. A tidbit, a morsel. A single word to change
the meaning of his private universe.
"Yeah, I'll meet you there." Napoleon's voice was soft with amusement,
the subtle edge of flirtation as delicate as lace. Paris was a city for lovers,
and it was no surprise that Napoleon, the consummate of lovers, would want to
venture out while he could. There was barely a flicker of disappointment in that
before his thoughts turned easily to the book he'd been meaning to finish,
perhaps at a the coffee shop downstairs rather than spending the entire evening
in this stifling hotel room.
It was the word that he almost didn't hear that cracked his looking glass, that
shifted the continents and waters of his world. The word that caught on his
curious ears just as he would have turned away, shaking his head yet again at
one of Napoleon numerous conquests. A word. A name.
"Fine, fine, that'll be great. I'm looking forward to seeing you again,
Jean-Pierre." There was no mistaking the dark, sweet seduction in that, the
velvet lining of his voice, the tender warmth, and suddenly it was difficult to
breathe.
Jean-Pierre.
With one word, the axis shifted, the polar caps melted and Atlantis sank into
the sea, Napoleon was going out on one of his many dates but this one was on the
other side, through the glass because it was a MAN he was meeting, a man,
another man. This wasn't the right world then, because Napoleon was a man for
the ladies. Ladies by the dozens, by the hundreds, used and tossed lightly aside
as one might a tissue and that was fine, that was acceptable but this...this
meant...something else entirely.
A wall that had seemed insurmountable scaled by someone else.
And Illya hadn't even known to try.
Napoleon nearly bumped into him at the door, blinking in surprise to see him
standing there.
"Oh, hey, don't order me anything," he said, seeing the menu hanging
uselessly from Illya's limp fingers. "Going to meet an old friend." A
familiar smile and a wink, and Napoleon walked through the looking glass and out
the door.
And Illya, without a white rabbit to lead the way, merely sank into the nearest
armchair and didn't say a word.
-finis-
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