Napoleon waited nervously in his office. He had tried to contact Illya all night, even going to his apartment, which was uncharacteristically locked. This concerned him. He and Illya always had access to each others apartment. It seemed that Illya had intentionally had the locks changed and not bothered to inform Napoleon or give him the new keys and access code. This disturbed Solo. Illya was his best friend and being able to get into each others apartment had saved them on more than one occasion.

Now, Napoleon paced the floor. It was going on eleven o’clock in the morning and the Russian had not even bothered to call. Napoleon grabbed his coat and headed over to Illya’s apartment. He was determined to get to the bottom of his friends behavior even if it meant busting the door down to do it.

Napoleon arrived at Illya’s door twenty minutes later. He knocked sharply on the door and heard the quiet shuffle of his friend. Soon the door was opened to reveal a very tired and drawn Illya. He had on a yellow robe which did nothing to hide the ghostly pallor of his skin. The Russian looked totally wiped out. Illya acknowledged Napoleon’s presence with a slight nod of his head and then turned and headed to the couch. He dropped heavily on the couch and covered himself with a thin spread.

Napoleon crossed the room to his friend quickly, touching his forehead to check for a temperature. Illya annoyingly knocked his hand away. “Napoleon, what do you think you are doing?”

“Checking your temperature, what else. You look horrible Illya. I think we better get you to the hospital.

“Don’t even think it. I’m not sick. Just tired. I’m not going to the hospital.”

Napoleon was really worried. He reasoned that Illya had probably passed out lasts night and was unable to answer his pages.

“Illya, I called you last night. Why didn’t you answer? Were you too sick to get up?”

“I couldn’t. I was otherwise engaged.” Illya answered.

“Engaged with what?”

“Napoleon, why do you insist on knowing my entire life…?

“I’m not interested in your entire life. Just what’s happening to you now. You should see yourself.”

“I know what I look like,” the Russian angrily huffed.

“Napoleon, you must have something else to do with your time. Why don’t you go back to UNCLE, catch some wild Thrush?”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Suit yourself.” Illya answered. Soon Napoleon heard the soft snoring of his friend. Well at least he’s getting some rest, he thought.