Napoleon Solo looking very debonair in his best tuxedo was seated at his favorite table in his favorite restaurant with a glass of scotch awaiting the arrival of the stunning Vanessa.

A waiter arrived at his side, "Are you ready to order, sir?"

Motioning to the chair across from him he replied, "The lady appears to be running a little late."

Nodding the waiter left and soon afterward the attractive hostess appeared. Giving him a devastating smile she handed him a note. Opening it he read that his date would not be able to make it after all. With a sigh, he folded the note and put it away in his vest pocket. He picked up his drink and finished it off. Getting up and garnering several admiring looks, he decided to have one last drink at the bar before leaving, he had never liked dining alone.

"Once more, Bobby" he requested as he sat down. He wasn't really that disappointed that Vanessa had failed to show. Sure she was drop dead gorgeous and an animal in bed, but she was a complete bubblehead. He was so very tired of dating bubblehead. His drink had arrived and he smiled as his thoughts went to another direction. His partner. Now there was a conversationalist, someone who knew a lot on almost any subject. He didn't talk much, but once on a topic he really had interest in there was no stopping him. He smiled into his drink. He wasn't bad looking either…ahoh where was that coming from, he thought with a frown. He'd never thought of his partner in that way before, and he was damn sure Illya had never had such thoughts either. Besides with his partners various skills, he wasn't ready to die in one of a hundred different ways. Finishing his second drink he didn't remember ordering the third or the fourth or….

Illya Kuryakin was ensconced in a comfortable chair catching up on one of the many technical journals he had not been able to read in quite a while. Suddenly his communicator emitted a piercing beep. Barely missing the remains of pizza that he had ordered, he reached over to pick it up off the side table were he had put it when he had arrived home that night.

"Kuryakin here."

"Mr. Kuryakin…Illya?" this was surprising, it was Mr. Waverly's confidential assistant.

"Yes?"

"We've just received a call from the Oak Room."

The Oak Room, ah yes, he remembered now Napoleon was meeting his current paramour there for a romantic supper.

"They requested we send someone over to pick up Mr. Solo."

His eyebrows started rising to the top of his head. "Did they say why?"

"Evidently he's had too much to drink."

"Does Mr. Waverly know?"

"I didn't feel it necessary to inform him."

Thankful for small favors, "I'll leave now. Kuryakin out." He hurriedly walked into his shoes and grabbed holster and gun, it never being safe for an agent to go unarm even when he was not on assignment. Grabbing his coat before leaving his apartment, wondering what could have caused his partner to loose such control that someone had to be called to cart him home.

As he entered the very posh restaurant, Illya noticed the looks of disdain for his casual attire. He did not let this bother him as he searched the dimly lit room for signs of Napoleon.

"Mr. Kuryakin? " It was the very sexy voice of the hostess, "he's gone to the men's room. We've never seen Mr. Solo this way before and thought it best to call." She said softly.

"Do you know why?" Kuryakin questioned.

The hostess shrugged, "He got a message from his date canceling?"

Nodding he turned toward the men's room to see his partner making his unsteady way back to the bar. Behind him trailed an anxious looking waiter. Solo was a regular here, as well as a big tipper, and that meant he was treated very well.

Illya's eyebrows again went up as he saw his partner weaving over to a stool, and almost missing it, sit down. Making his way over to him, he nodded to the waiter who looked relieved that someone had arrived.

Napoleon catching sight of him hailed him. "Hiya, Hiya, Hiya, if it isn't my good friend Illya….hick…what brings you here."

"I've come to take you home."

"Don't wanna go."

"I realize that having the spectacular Vanessa cancel…"

"Pfzzzz, don't care….bubble….bubble…bubblehead."

"If that's the case then why?'

"Why, what?" looking at his partner unsteadily and seemingly surprised.

Illya pointed to the many glasses that set in front of him.

Trying to concentrate he turned to look at the growing number of glasses "Oh, them. That's not it." Waving the thought way.

"Then what is?"

Giggling Napoleon looked fondly at his friend, "Can't tell." Then looking closer he saw there were two Illya's. "Though maybe he would." Pointing to a blank space just to the left of Illya.

Illya looked to the side and saw nothing, with a sigh he reached for his partner, "Let's get you out of here."

With as much dignity as he could muster, Napoleon stood up tall. " I…I'm purfactly capble of walking by myself."

With a slight smile, Illya moved back and waved him forward. Napoleon took three steps before he passed out and Illya, catching him before he hit the ground, put his arm around Napoleon's waist and brought one arm over his shoulder carted him out amid stares from the other patrons.

Arriving at the door to Solo's apartment, Illya propped him against a wall while he reached into his pocket for his keys. Napoleon started to slide down the wall, so Illya quickly pulled him back up holding him place as he opened the door and pulled him in. Napoleon got away from him and staggered to the sofa where he promptly fell over the arm.

Illya grinned, as he went around the sofa, at the picture Napoleon made, face down with his legs hanging over the arm. Squatting down to Napoleons level he checked to see if he was okay. Napoleon quickly came off the sofa, surprising him with the speed with which he could move, and made his way to the bathroom where sounds of retching could be heard. Illya started to follow then decided against it. Soon Napoleon, his tie undone, came back out looking much the worse for wear.

"Are you feeling better now?" Illya had never seen this side of his partner. He could usually hold his liquor better then this.

Napoleon stood holding onto the door jam and nodded. Suddenly turning green he turned back around and headed back into the bathroom. Dry retching could be heard and this time Illya followed him. He found his friend kneeling in front of the bowl and head laying against the rim.

"Didn't you eat anything?"

Napoleon just shook his head no, not having the strength to do anything else.

Illya went to the sink and fixing a glass of mouthwash, gave it to Napoleon as he shakily got up from the floor. After he had rinsed his mouth Illya carted him into the bedroom and dropped him across the bed. He went back into the bathroom and got a wet washcloth, which he brought back to place on Napoleon's head. Turning on the light on the bedside table, he proceed to remove Napoleon's jacket and take of the holster with its gun. He glanced at the man on the bed as he removed the clip from the gun and set them on the dresser, it being better to be safe than sorry.

Going back to the bed he removed Napoleon's shoes and put his feet up on the bed, reaching for the blanket to pull over the now sleeping man. He turned to leave when a hand grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and he looked down to see what looked like a petulant little boy begging, "Don't go."

Turning back and settling on the bed with his back against the headboard he sighed. "I won't." as the hand changed from his jacket to a grip on his wrist. Thinking it best not to leave him alone and leaning back to ponder what could have possible brought the great Napoleon Solo to this state, he finally fell asleep.

Illya woke up with a start the next morning and remember where he was and why. He looked down at his partner who had released his grip sometime during the night and looked a lot more peaceful. Carefully so as not to disturb Napoleon, he got up and went into the kitchen to make some coffee.

He was pouring a cup when Napoleon appeared at the door. He looked better than he had the night before.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Illya asked as he handed him a filled cup.

Shaking his head "No" Napoleon took a couple sips of the hot coffee. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For looking out for me."

"It was nothing. You'd do the same for me."

Napoleon's mouth twitched with a small smile. Suddenly he dropped the cup, put his hand to his mouth and rushed to the sink as the coffee he'd just drunk came up. Straightening up he started to convulse and dropped to the floor. Illya immediately went to him and checked his vital signs, then pulling out his pen he contacted HQ. "Channel D. Emergency, Agent down this location." Not waiting for a response because Napoleon was no longer breathing he started in to give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.