Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin

Category: slash

Rating: G

Word Count: 542

Notes: Written for the Poetry Table Prompt – “Azure and Gold”

 

 

 

“Azure and Gold” (excerpt) by Amy Lowell

The high sky of summer dropped down
Some rapturous ocean to woo.

Such a color, such infinite light!
The heart of a fabulous gem,
Many-faceted, brilliant and rare.

 

“Why is the sea blue? Because it reflects the sky.  Why does the moon shine then hide her face? She pines for the sun, her lover,” he read aloud from the book he held.

“Refraction and rotation, Napoleon.”

“You are singularly unromantic, partner mine.”

“And you are unusually sentimental.”

Napoleon looked up at Illya, gazing out the window beside him.  He stood and looked over his partner’s shoulder, holding his place in the book with a finger.  Nothing but sea and sky out the window, both brilliant and blinding as the sun reached its high point above.

“Our young scientist is sentimental, or was at one time if this diary is anything to judge by.”

“As long as the diary gives up the secret formula, he can be as sentimental as he wants.”

“I suppose being lovesick with unreturned regard makes one a little sentimental.”  Napoleon continued to look out at the huge expanse of blues on the other side of the window, even when Illya turned to face him with a question in his eyes.  The look was quickly gone when they heard a knock at the door.  Napoleon turned sharply and went to answer, book exchanged for weapon in hand. 

They successfully handed off the recovered diary of the fugitive scientist to their local counterparts and returned to the dock without incident, possibly because it was siesta time and there was no one out and about in the heat of the afternoon.  Illya’s communicator went off, Mr. Waverly’s timing perfect as always.

“Kuryakin here.”

“The exchange went smoothly then?”  Waverly had obviously already spoken with the local headquarters.

“Yes, sir.”

“How long will it take you to return the borrowed sea craft to its owners?”

“We should have her back in two days, sir.”  Napoleon spoke up.

“The weather forecast is for calm winds, Napoleon, we should make that three days, just in case,” Illya suggested.

“I will expect you back in New York in five.”

“Yes, sir.  Anything more?” Illya asked.

“That will be all, gentlemen.  Carry on.  Waverly out.”

Illya capped his communicator and moved toward the boat.  Napoleon caught his arm.

“Illya, I know you hate sailing.  I can get some local crew to return the craft.”

“I do not hate sailing so much as the accompanying illness.  And Medical has provided enough seasickness medication for an entire fleet of sailors.  If we expect to take off with the tides, we should be about it.  We will need supplies.”

“Already on board, the local headquarters was hard at work this morning.”

“Good, I’ll have time to enjoy the last of the siesta before we have to leave.”  Illya jumped the gap from dock to boat and disappeared below.

Napoleon just shook his head and followed, somewhat more slowly, wondering what had possessed his partner.  They could have the boat back to her home port overnight if they used the engine the whole way. 

He wondered briefly at the look that flashed in Illya’s eyes as he had turned away.  Napoleon shook his head again, dismissing the thought as imagination, as wishful thinking.  He did not see anticipation in those sapphire dark eyes, it was just the heat of the siesta hour baking his brain, he was certain.