By SUMMER

A MAN FROM UNCLE STORY

Class Slash, NC 17 (Graphic Sexual Content)

Parings: Solo/Kuryakin

Writer’s Note: I wrote this story several years ago and forgot all about it. Finding it on once more I now place this along with my other MFU stories.

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Man From Uncle.

PART ONE

He died in his arms; his partner, his dearest friend and lover. Napoleon Solo was an UNCLE agent and as an international spy who worked for the organization called UNCLE (Short for United Network Command for Law and Enforcement) he had always been prepared to die in the field. Sometimes he even courted it. But he hadn't expected this to happen, and never to his Illya.

The blond haired, ice blue-eyed prince lay still in his arms, blood on his chest. The tears came to his eyes and he allowed them to fall. It had been his fault entirely. He had tried to charge the main house, and the unseen assassin had fired a deadly shot at him. It would have proven fatal but Illya, his ever-faithful pouting Russian comrade, had seen the shot and dove in front of it. He took the bullet in the chest.

Fellow UNCLE agent Mark Slate arrived just in time to fire a shot in return and managed to give the killer a fatal wound in his head right between the eyes. It had been ten seconds too late. His Illya lay in his arms shivering slightly.

A smile came to his lips, and then he looked up into his American partner's face before his eyes closed forever.

Solo wept openly and he mourned the loss of his friend.

He went to the funeral dressed in black and barely sober. He avoided the wake and the reception after the funeral. His heart just wasn't in it. His Illya was gone and he just couldn't bring himself to be around anyone.

He found himself somehow in Illya Kuryakin's apartment. It was sparse and nearly empty containing just a bed, a couch, a black and white t.v. set, and a shelf filled with technical books which he lightly played his fingers over subconsciously knowing that Illya's hands had touched these at one time.

The kitchen and refrigerator were even emptier. All he found there were two bottles of vodka. He downed the first bottle in a matter of seconds. The second bottle he sipped at trying to make the pain deaden. Instead it just became deeper and more ingrained. After emptying the second bottle, he realized he was still sober and still hurting, so he angrily threw the glass against the wall shattering it. The glass glittered on the ground at his feet. Depressed and unable to bear it a moment longer, he took the pistol from his holster and checked to make sure it was loaded.

He remembered six years ago when he was saddled with a wet-behind-the-ears 'Mister Know It All' Russian partner. He'd resented it and shouted furiously to his superior, Mr. Waverly, that the boy wouldn't last a year in UNCLE. It took only one mission for Solo to warm to the blond haired unblemished and handsome youth who was several years younger then he.

Sure, Illya was a bit cold, and had an automatically propelled self-esteem, but underneath that fluency in ten languages and quantum physics master's degree the Russian was also a very shy and very endearing young man. It didn't take long for Solo, ladies' man that he was, to find his eyes starting to linger more towards his partner. Illya always seemed to be there to get him out of a jam, and to tease or get him in trouble with their boss. The relationship between them became stronger than just being partners and friends.

They relied on one another to protect each other's backs. They were there for each other when one was hurt or in some emotional pain. It was an unbreakable bond.

The lonely nights ceased when last year at a New Year's Eve party Solo took a drunk Illya to his apartment. In his Russian friend's drunkenness he found that Illya talked much easier about the past and learned how much he loved his partner. Solo in return showed Illya a night he would never forget. The two were rarely apart after that. Solo never again looked at another woman. Every day Illya made his empty life full of light and happiness. Worth living.

Now that Illya was gone, he didn't want to go back to the man he was before he knew Illya, and he didn't want to go on without the Russian in his life.

With tears in his eyes, he prepared to fire a shot in his head, clicking the hammer back in place.

Suddenly his head began to spin and a feeling of uneasiness swept over him. He felt dizzy and everything seemed to be out of focus. Then everything went black.

He awoke to find himself lying on a bed. The room he was in was small and empty. There was a door and it was open. He sat up and saw that his gun was gone.

Where was he? What happened?

He rose to his feet feeling no longer sluggish and went to the door. He could see a small hallway; one way was dark and the other had a shining light in the distance.

He followed the light that opened up to reveal a large lab. It was huge, with technology that he had never seen before even in THRUSH or UNCLE labs. There was also a woman sitting at a table looking over a small black instrument. It looked to be some sort of gun, only larger and the metal didn't look like the average kind of material he had seen before. He cleared his throat.

"Ah, you're awake," the woman replied with a grin. She turned and Solo confronted a blonde- haired woman with blue eyes, with a slight accent he noticed immediately.

"Have a seat, I'll be with you in a moment."

Not seeing a choice he took a nearby chair and watched her at work. She was using some sort of screwdriver and was piecing together several units.

He watched for a moment and then shook his head. She reminded him of Illya at work in the lab; so dedicated.

"Excuse me, but could you tell me who you are and where I am and how I got here and why I am here?"

The woman didn't look up. Seeing her, he could see that she had to be in her forties. She also had a strong smell of perfume. It reminded him of roses and lilacs.

"Just a moment, you must learn patience, Mr. Solo. You and Kuryakin were always short on that. I suppose it's your youth, but...ah there, that does it." She then lowered the instrument and turned to face Napoleon.

He realized she had a pair of glasses in her lab coat and apparently wasn't going to use them. Under the lab coat he saw that she was wearing a white shining dress that flowed around her curves. She had white milky skin and was quite beautiful; not your typical mousy scientist. In other circumstances he probably would have hit on her.

She smiled at him. "The second bottle of vodka was laced with a sedative. I figured you would try to kill yourself after the funeral at Kuryakin's apartment, some place near him...."

Solo felt the pain hit him from all directions. The tears came and he angrily got to his feet and looked away.

"Waverly sent you? Whether I choose to live or die is no one's business but my own. Now, please, show me the door."

She didn't move.

He turned back to her angrily. "If you don't, I will kill you!"

"Before or after you kill yourself?" she asked.

Her demeanor was low and non-threatening. Her whole manner seemed to be soft and gentle. Not typical at all for his usual capturers; still, she had a firmness to her tone of voice.

"What do you want? Just tell me so I can go!"

She nodded and gazed at him gently. "You loved Illya very much didn't you?"

He swallowed. At first he wanted to slap her hard across the face, or hurl some swear word at her, or at the very least walk out. Instead he sat down on the chair again and lowered his eyes to the floor. "Yes...with all my heart and soul."

"He loved you too. You were both so good for each other."

He looked up at her crossly. "You mean for two gay guys."

She shook her head. "Love is love, no matter who it is, male or female. I have watched both of you for a time. You were so beautiful together...."

He choked and started to sob. He buried his face in his hands. He couldn't take this. What was this, a THRUSH trap, to lure him to the dark side, or worse, to torment him until they decided to kill him? He took a breath and gathered himself up pushing back the tears.

"We will be again as soon as you give me my gun."

She shook her head. "Suicide is never the answer."

"I can't and I won't go on without him in my life. I need him. I have no one else, no family, no other friends. Please, let me end it..."

"Napoleon, every life has a purpose, and every purpose comes to pass. You were a light that saved people.... do you realize how much your just being born has changed the world and made it a better place?"

"Illya made it a better place."

"Yes... he did...and he sacrificed himself in the end to make sure it stay a better place; by making sure you lived. If you end your life you will betray what he lived and died for...."

"I don't care," he replied furiously.

"Yes, you do. You care very much. No matter where you go, or where you are, you make a difference. You make the world shine with your light. To see it end would be a very sad thing. So, I am going to give you an alternative to the ending of your life that you seek."

Solo laughed. "What, are you going to send me back in time so I can save Illya? So I can stop him from running into that bullet that was meant for me?"

"In a way, yes, and no." She got to her feet and paced the room.

"I am going to give you another reason to live. The past cannot be changed, it has been written in stone from eons ago. Don't you see Napoleon, you were meant to be born, as was Illya...? Your lives were written out and placed in the book of life, so to speak. Your life has helped shape this world so that I have been given the opportunity to present you with a gift." She turned and nodded at the instrument that she had been working on.

"You see life differently, going in one direction. That is not life. There are many worlds and many lives.... running parallel to this one."

"I don't understand..." Solo was starting to get a headache.

"Let me make it simple then. There are infinite worlds and times and places identical tothis one; another world where there is still a living Illya Kuryakin."

He didn't move, he didn't know how to respond. A part of him wanted to laugh and another part of him wanted to start running. "Lady, you are nuts!"

"Perhaps, but what does it matter..." she replied with a grin. "If my plan is false all you lose is a few hours more of life, and if not...you could be holding your Illya in your arms again, loving him..."

He thought about that; it was true... he had nothing really to lose. "All right, go ahead. I am listening."

"Good."

She moved to the table and picked up the black gun. "As I said, there are many alternate worlds, and I am sure there is one that will have Illya and would need you while...."

but before she could continue Solo cut her off. "Fine, let's play your little game...say that it does work. Isn't there going to be a little problem...you know...like, say, another live Napoleon Solo waiting...who just might want his Illya himself...? Well?"

She shrugged. "A small problem easily handled. You send him back in this time, therefore eliminating the problem and leaving you alone with your Illya. Remember there are alternate lines and just because in this world you were lovers does not mean that you and Illya would be lovers in the next...or at least not yet."

"Wait, you mean go to this alternate world and throw a guy who belongs in that world to this time...to this place allowing me to stay there? Isn't that a little cruel?"

"I will be here for him.... I will care for him; you need not concern yourself. Whatever he needs will be fulfilled. Well? Do you want to try...or would you rather..." Pulling out his gun from her lab pocket she held the two out to him. "It's your choice; yours to make."

Rising, Solo looked at her in confusion, his mind a whirl of temptations and desires that called out to him.

"Who are you?"

"I have many names, but who I am is not important. Just know that I am giving you this chance; one that you can reverse. Know this.... you will have only one week. One week to decide if you want to stay in this alternate world. If you decide you do not want to stay...and want things back to as they were, then just simply say you wish to return...that is all...and remember.... this gun will open a small vortex that will remain open for only twelve hours. You must get the other Solo in that time into that vortex. If you don't...' fall back' will occur. 'Fall back' is something more complex to explain. Put simply, it will short circuit both alternate worlds, and you and your alternate self will cease to exist.... body and soul.... clear?"

Napoleon nodded. He took his gun and pocketed it, then smiled at the woman. He had already made up his mind.
"Why not...I have nothing to lose...nothing...."

She smiled at him. This time the smile was not soft or gentle, it was of pure delight as if she had known all along how things were going to happen.

PART TWO

He would never understand it or how he got there. He just remembered her pointing the gun at a blank wall and then this black hole appeared with swirling mists that seemed to beckon him. Without fear he walked into the vortex and then vanished. Then suddenly he found himself standing on a street, in the middle of New York City. People were rushing about going in their different directions. No one seemed to pay him any mind. Shaking his head in confusion he started to walk. It looked like his world, the world that he had come from. Maybe that woman was a crackpot and he had just simply left her hidden lair.

He stopped pacing when he realized that he stood in front of Del Floria's clothing shop. Same old worn paint, same littered stairs, same...

"Napoleon, what are you doing back from Hawaii?"

The familiar Russian accent sent his spine tingling. He spun around wildly and saw the form of the blond haired, blue-eyed partner he had fought along side for so many years. He was dressed all in black with a white coat. Being so close he caught the familiar masculine odor that often aroused his body just by simply being near.

For a moment he couldn't speak, he wanted to hold him, take Illya into his arms and kiss him hard to be sure that he was actually there, alive, standing in front of him. But, the middle of the street was not a good spot to do so. Besides, Illya would kill him for the public emotional display. He then softly wondered if this Illya would mind? Could it be true? Could he actually be here in another world with a live Illya Kuryakin?

"Napoleon...are you all right?"

"Illya..." He finally got the word out. He was just so stunned.

"How was your vacation trip? Did you and Laura have a good time?"

The voice was almost taunting. Ah, that's my Illya.

But who the hell is Laura? And if he were on vacation why hadn't his alter ego taken Illya with him? Unless.... they weren't lovers here in this time and place. Damn. That would make things a lot harder. Though not necessarily; surely he could use his old charm and lure Illya into his bed easily and make him realize just how much in this world they could be lovers, too. The very thought of emptying his seed in the Russian stirred his emotions and something else. Not now, he thought.

"Yes, ah, we, ah, cut it short.... Got bored and missed you."

Illya looked at him rather shocked by that statement.

"How about supper at my place tonight...that's why I stopped by.... Say seven?"

Rather confused Illya shrugged. "Sure...I guess...."

Heading into Del Floria 's shop Illya glanced back once more to look at Napoleon who quickly called a cab and got in. He gave Illya one glance and then leaned back and began to make his plans.

Illya headed to Mr. Waverly's office still very confused about Napoleon's early return. It didn't make sense; usually Napoleon played his time off to the hilt and usually with every pretty girl he could get his hands on. Oh, how he wished he would look at me once that way....

Oh damn...what am I thinking? He shook his head and went into Waverly's office. As he did so he spotted a brown haired man seated in front of Waverly. He did a double take.

"Hi Illya, just got back from Hawaii. Laura got a little home sick so...ah, what's the matter?"

Illya couldn't believe it he was staring down at Napoleon Solo. But he just saw him outside?

"Mr. Kuryakin?" Called the brusque boss, Mr. Waverly, who sternly glared at the Russian.

"You look like you've seen a ghost...?"

Illya swallowed. "I think I have...."

***

He whistled a tune as he prepared the dinner table. A little candlelight and some great take out Chinese food would soften that bottomless pit Illya had for a stomach. Then he would lure Illya in with a bottle of rum and plant him on the couch. That would be when he would strike.

He would take Illya into his arms declare his undying love and devotion and make mad passionate love to him. He thought about the other Solo; he wouldn't arrive back in New York until early this morning. He would have to find a way to lure him here in time before the vortex closed. When he came walking in to his apartment he would knock him out cold and send him through. Easy as pie. Then it would just be him and his Illya. He suddenly felt a little guilty about doing all this to that other Solo, his other self. Still that female doctor promised that he wouldn't be harmed and besides, in this time zone apparently this Solo preferred women and that just simply left this Illya out in the cold. That was just not acceptable.

The doorbell rang and he hurried to the door.

"Come in." He opened it to see Illya standing in front of the door. Dressed now only in his black pants and matching shirt. He looked on at him keenly and then walked in to the apartment. Damn he looked so sexy!

"Ah, Chinese food, my favorite." Illya at once went to the dinner table and started shoving in the food as quickly as he could. For a moment Illya noticed the candles and the soft music in the background.

He paused and looked up at Napoleon who had closed the door and was coming towards him.

"Ah, last minute date? Change of plans?" Illya glanced at the food wondering how much he could gobble up before Solo would throw him out so he could be alone with another beautiful woman.

He leaned against the door and smiled. Illya looked as adorable as ever. He was just so damn cute.

"No, I just thought it would lighten the mood a little."

Heading over he sat down at the table and quickly made himself a plate. Illya took the opposite seat and continued to dig in.

"Napoleon, tell me...what was the name of your father, the general in the army?"

Solo picked up his glass and smiled in confusion. "Illya you know my father was an admiral not a general...and his name is the same as mine, but if you call me 'Junior ' I will put you on report..."

Illya sniffed. "Oh, right."

He picked up the glass of rum and sipped it thoughtfully. "So, ah, where is Laura this evening?"

"Home I guess. Why?"

"Oh just curious...you always seem to share your nights with women, it just seems strange you wanted my company tonight over a female."

Solo was starting to get a feeling like he was being tested or that Illya was suspicious about him. But why would he be?

"Well, maybe I had a change of heart and would prefer to have my company spent with you."

Illya felt his heart beat faster. For a moment, his mind went off to a fantasy world that he had always dreamed about, but never allowed to even imagine that could come true. Then he remembered what he was dealing with. This had to be a double from THRUSH. It just had to be. It just wasn't possible that Napoleon loved him.

"What are you saying?"

Napoleon got up from the table .Putting down his fork; he reached for Illya and pulled him up into his arms holding him in a warm embrace. For a moment the two looked at each other questioningly. Then Napoleon bent down and drew Illya into a soft deep kiss.

Illya froze. For a moment he drank in the masculine taste of his partner and felt his heart fly skywards. Then he pulled away. Out came his gun.

"Hold it, you're not the real Napoleon Solo...."

Stunned, Solo didn't make a move at first. Then he shook his head. Ok, so he went a little too fast.

"He would never...he prefers women! Who are you?"

Napoleon smiled lightly. "Illya, it is me, it is Napoleon.... Now I don't know why you are acting this way...we have been partners for a long time. Look at me."

He kept his hands to his side and waited. Illya looked at him.

"I repeat who are you? Did THRUSH send you? Why?"

"Illya, I am telling you, I am Solo. Check my fingerprints, ask me anything...."

He nodded. "All right. When Partridge and his daughter Victoria captured us."

"His niece. Illya..." he corrected.

"His niece, who had her eyes set on me..."

"I think it was the other way around my little Russian friend."

Illya's mouth dropped. "Who is your White Knight...?"

"You."

Confused Illya was now completely lost. This had to be Napoleon, but then who was...?

"But I saw you with Mr. Waverly this afternoon?"

Oh, damn. That's why he was suspicious. Solo almost swore under his breath. So his altar ego had returned home early. Cursing himself for not at least checking the airlines for his return Solo tried to fix things.

"I don't know who you saw Illya, but really it's me...?"

Illya turned and without stopping ran out of the apartment.

Solo watched Illya leave in his car. He was probably going to try to find the other Solo who he thought was now an imposter.

He had to move fast and had to find the other Solo first.

Ok, if you were Napoleon Solo...which I am, but preferred women, where would I be at this hour of night?

Smiling, he picked up his coat and headed out the door.

PART THREE

Sweet Julie. Solo lapsed into the lady's arms and drew her into a deep kiss in the quiet French restaurant. He had left Waverly's office after picking up his pay check and was still a little confused at Illya's response to his early return from Hawaii.

Well, Illya was always damn confusing to understand. In so many ways he loved Illya well, I Mean, like a brother, of course. I mean, he was a great pal and partner and was always so good to have around. In so many ways, he just couldn't imagine Illya not being a part of his life.

Still, he just wished the blond Russian would stop staying in the lab all the time and go out and have a good time like he was having with this brown-haired dancer, Julie. She was so soft and smelled so good. Yet again, his thoughts strayed to his blond Russian partner. Oh, this was ridiculous. Solo curbed his thoughts and tried to focus only on his latest fling.

Of course that was what this was; the latest fling of many. He never had more than a passing interest with these women, and as Illya often pointed out to him they were all brain dead. Well, not brain dead, just empty headed. Illya had a fine intellect and was so smart....

Pulling away he suddenly felt tired and bored, and he wanted to go home.

After a brief interlude, he called it quits much to Julie's surprise, although she did give him her phone number. Outside the restaurant after paying the bill he threw her number in the nearest trash bin. He thought about calling a cab but he was only a few blocks away from his house and the walk would do him some good.

It was dark and cold and he pulled his coat to his chin. He already missed the warm tropical climate of Hawaii.

As he walked he thought for a moment he heard echoing footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned and saw no one.

He returned to his walking.

Illya...his thoughts went back to his partner. They had been together now for almost six years. In that time, Napoleon couldn't imagine life in UNCLE without his Russian partner. He vowed that as soon as he took over Waverly's place in Section One he would appoint Illya head of Section Two. Illya deserved the promotion. He worked very hard risking his life over and over again for me.

Watching my back, and always being there; he was a true friend. Sadly, Napoleon realized he had not always been a good friend to him. Well, tomorrow was another day and he would change that. Maybe ask Illya out for lunch, invite some girls.

The movement came behind him; Solo turned to confront a man that stood at the same height as he. At first Napoleon was too shocked to speak, and then he reached for his gun. It was too late; the hand came down across his neck.

He slumped to the ground out cold.

The Vortex was waiting for him; the swirling mass.

He didn't know what to do. He held himself and gazed down at the face that was his. Suddenly he felt indecision. He had no right to do this. Not even if he wanted to be with Illya. He couldn't just take this Solo who belonged in this time to his world or to any other. Had he a right to take his place and take this Illya? But Illya isn't... this Solo doesn't even love Illya....

She stepped out of the vortex and smiled kindly at him.

"You cut it close, you had only thirty minutes to go.... give him to me. Then go back to your Illya..."

She reached for him. He didn't hand him over.

"Napoleon?" She asked.

"I can't.... it's not right.... I can't..."

He lowered Solo to the ground then turned and walking to the corner of the alleyway he leaned heavily against it feeling the sadness over take him. The tears and the grief were overwhelming him. She moved up behind him and smiled.

"Napoleon, Napasha...trust me...you have always trusted me in the past and in my alternate worlds... trust me now..."

It was then something hit him. Napoleon turned and confronted the blond-haired female with blue eyes. He reached for her arm and pulled up the lab coat sleeve.

There was a scar; a familiar scar.

"I got it when Dr Egret captured me and I had to cut my wrist to free myself from the handcuffs. Remember you arrived just in time to stop me from bleeding to death?"

Napoleon looked up at her in horror. "Illya?"

"I told you there are many alternate worlds and many alternate Solos and Illyas... one of which is a female Illya.... me, though my name is Illrya. I lost my Napoleon when he leaped in front of a bullet to save my life.... I cried over him for years.... and buried myself in my books and my technical journals and did research and finally stumbled on a theory, sliding side ways in time.... to other worlds identical to mine. Ever since then, I have searched for a Napoleon to take the place of the one I lost.... I promise you in this world you will find great happiness with this Illya.... and I will find happiness with him..."

She pointed to the Solo who lay on the ground. "Trust me...please?"

He stared on at her in awe. He couldn't move or speak. He just couldn't imagine anyone could be as desperate as him for love, except perhaps Illya.

He could only nod numbly.

She smiled and turned away.

She gently picked up the unconscious Solo and without turning back she went through the vortex.

It closed behind her.

"Goodbye, Illya."

He stood there for a moment, then went to the wall and touched it with his fingers. Then after a long time, he turned and walked away.

Illya banged open the door to the apartment in absolute confusion and near panic. His gun in hand he came at Solo.

"Enough with the games! Where is the real Solo?"

Napoleon grabbed the gun and quickly threw it away, then promptly pulled Illya into his arms. Illya struggled for a moment, until the lips met his.

After a long moment he broke the kiss and looked down at his Illya with longing. The Russian's lips were partly open with his blue eyes gazing up at him in shock. His finger-tips gently touched the soft white cheek and noted the scar on Illya's arm where moments before he had pulled up his sleeve to retrieve his gun before coming into the apartment.

"He is gone...don't worry, he came back while you were here and I...took care of him."

Illya gazed up at him unsure. This all seemed so strange and odd to him. Yet, he couldn't help but feel himself leaning into the hard, warm body. He wanted so much to be touched in all the ways Solo had touched women in the past.

"My White Knight, my Illya K, my dearest friend. Trust me."

Illya looked up into his eyes and knew this had to be his Solo but still there were so many unanswered questions. Why now after all these years had he finally realized how much they belonged together?

"Trust me," he replied again, leading Illya into the bedroom.

He lowered the blond on the pillows stroking his locks out of his face. He drew in kissing his lips and cheek and moving slowly down his neck. He wanted to move slowly but desire was winning out, and he found himself needing to make love to Illya here and now. To feel him and know that he was alive and in his arms.

"Na...Na.Napoleon..." Illya whispered in puzzlement. This wasn't happening...it couldn't be happening!

"I love you; I have always loved you from the moment you came into my life. I'm sorry it just took me this long to realize it...but I promise from this day forward I am going to show you in every way how much I do love you."

Illya looked up into his eyes, those deep liquid brown eyes and shook his head.

"You love me?" Was it possible? Was it really true?

"Yes.... Oh, yes, Illya..." He replied nuzzling his shoulders and licking his ears before taking a nibble.

"I have loved you, too, Napoleon, but I thought that you preferred...." His sentence was cut off when he felt Napoleon's hands sliding down his chest to his hips, the sensations rocking him in all different directions. He had always known that his body would respond to his touch.

"I was blind..." replied Solo, taking the time to push the shirt up over Illya's neck and then at once took a small nip at the bare chest.

His pants strained against him and he unbuttoned them and then moved to unbutton Illya's.

At once Illya stopped his hand, fright in his eyes.

He wasn't sure now if he should let this continue; the ramifications would be high. Besides, Solo had always been so flirtatious and what if tomorrow he woke up and moved on to the next conquest? His heart would not be able to take the rejection.

"Trust me...." he whispered again.

Illya released the hand and allowed him to slide his pants off of his body.

In moments the two lay naked in each other's arms snuggling closer. They stayed in that position for a long time, simply holding and touching each other's bodies lightly as if for the first time seeing the other. For Illya it was, while Napoleon was reassuring himself that this Illya was alive and was now his.

Then it went to the next step.

"Illya..." he asked as he slid Illya on to his stomach and nudged his muscle towards the opening of his anus. He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a tube and quickly placed the lubricant around his throbbing cock. Then with his fingers gently placed the lubrication in and around Illya's anus. Just the simple fingers moving in and out and sliding around his body made him shiver and tremble, needing more then just two fingers inside him.

He arched and tried to get more. He needed more!

"Yes Napoleon...." he breathed dreamily in anticipation.

"Don't ever die on me.... ever do you hear me? I can't go through it again... I don't want to ever know what it's like to lose you...."

With that he pushed inside and Illya moaned as he was filled with Solo's cock.

He had longed for this moment for so long, was it was really happening?

He just didn't understand and yet, yes he wanted this so badly; dreamed this for so long.

"Napoleon... if you promise not to as well..."

"I promise," he replied and using his cock stroked along the prostate making Illya jolt against him. Then he began to move in small gentle waves.

In moments he cried out as his seed came shooting out and into Illya's ass.

"I love you, Illya!" he yelled.

The tears came to Illya's eyes, he had never believed this day would come but he had always wished for it, and now he here he was and he never felt so complete and so happy. He only hoped that it would last for a long time to come.

"I love you, Napoleon." Those three little words, he had never thought he would ever get the chance to say them out loud, or ever to the one he had wanted to say them to.

In pure happiness, happiness he never thought he would ever feel again, Napoleon smiled and hoped that the other Napoleon and female Illya would be as happy as they were.Turning his Illya over, he found the pale lips and kissed him soundly. He would never let Illya go now, never! In a matter of minutes he proceeded to make love to his blond Russian all over again.

He slowly opened his eyes.

In doing so he looked up into two beautiful bright blue eyes. A very attractive blond haired woman was looking down at him. Smiling. Well, that's not a bad way to wake up.

"Napoleon, are you ok?" She had a Russian accent.

"Yeah, I think so...ahm, who are you?"

She smiled and then went down claiming his lips to hers.

Solo didn't fight it; he instead glanced at the woman's bare arm and noticed a scar that looked familiar to him. In fact, he felt in someway that she was familiar and though he didn't even know who she was he felt comfortable and safe with her. He did not understand why.

When she pulled away she saw he was smiling.

"Do you believe in dreams come true...?" she asked softly twirling her fingers in his hair.

Solo looked up at her questioningly. She smiled back at him and then removed her lab coat. She wore a long white flowing dress that curved and molded around her body. She was beautiful. He couldn't understand what was happening but it certainly was not all that bad. She lay on top of him and brushed her lips against his again.

"Who are you?"

She only smiled. "Trust me, hold me, love me...." was all that she said.

He took her into his arms and kissed her passionately on the lips. He didn't understand all of this but he would find out more later...much later....

The End!