Napoleon watched the snow slowly falling this New Year’s Eve outside the penthouse he called home. He thought back to the years that passed. It had been a journey full of joy and pain, happiness and sadness, successes and failures, but always with someone there to support him.
His first meeting with Waverly, that frightening man who, with one flick of the wrist, could send men, and later women, to their death was frightening yet exhilarating. Napoleon knew the ‘old man’ suffered every one of their deaths in private. Yet the twinkle in his eye when he told the agents they did well made it worthwhile.
Then the introduction to his partner who Napoleon believed was a skinny kid who looked as if he hadn’t had a good meal in years. How could he trust someone who didn’t look able to take care of himself much less his partner’s back? Yet whether in the field or out of it, Illya never failed to back him up sometimes at the cost of his own well-being. Never asking for friendship, but accepting it as a gift he was surprised to receive. And those eyes, so blue, a measure of his soul.
The first glance of Josephina Kuryakin, so proud yet unaware of what she was doing to his heart. She changed his once lonely one night stands to something beautiful while fulfilling a desire he himself didn’t know he had. One woman to love and have by his side who gave herself freely to him without strings attached. Another set of blue eyes that calmed his spirit by just looking into them.
Stepping up to take over Section One when the Old Fox stepped down after telling Napoleon he was ready. Waverly expressed confident that convinced Napoleon that he was equipped to deal with the challenges of the office. Always there to offer a word of encouragement and to allow him to grieve privately with someone who understood what it was like to have this responsibility.
His partner still having his back as Napoleon moved up the ladder with him. The woman he loved agreeing to marry him, along with giving him the support he needed to deal with the everyday life and death decisions. And his eyes looking into everyone he met echoing a conscious of his decisions.
Finally the children, father to a son and daughter and an uncle to Illya’s boy and girl. They kept him young, making him laugh after a tough day. Oh, the ups and downs of childhood. Just being there for their cries and shout of joy, able to support, guide, and love. His children, now his future, were almost grown and ready to go out on their own. And their eyes, the joy so innocence that infected all that held them close.
“Moya lyubov, are you alright?” Jo Solo asked sliding into the comfortable arms of her lover and husband.
“Just thinking,” he answered looking into those eyes that calmed his troubled mind so often.
“A dangerous pasttime for you as it makes you too serious. Come on we need to get going. The sooner we get this over the sooner I can get out of this dress and back into my turtleneck and slacks.” She honored him with one of her small smiles that went all the way to her eyes.
“I love you all dressed up, you looked like an angel.” He kissed her gently pushing her hair off her face to see her eyes better.
“An angel with a gun and two knifes. Now, come on. Illya, Gloria, and the children are waiting in the limo to go to UNCLE’s New Year’s Eve party. Illya’s Section Three agents are getting nervous waiting in the open for you. They’re concerned it gives Thrush an opportunity to attempt to kill you again.”
Pulling on his coat over his ever-present gun, Napoleon knew his life was all he could hope for and those in it gave him all he needed. One last look into the mirror while straightening his tie and that’s when he noticed his own eyes. They were smiling back after him, a mirror of his contented soul.