Episode Epilogue 6 - Touch is Love. (A Post Bow-Wow Affair story)
"What do you mean, as long as I'm making a fool out of myself? I wasn't making a fool out of myself! I never make a fool out of myself, for your information."
"Well - not unless you're concerned. Then I'm Illya Kuryakin, master fool. How dare you sneer at me?''
"I didn't like seeing you with that silly blonde. Silly screaming blonde. If she'd put those hands over her eyes once more ..."
"How would you know?"
"I have my sources."
"She's an innocent, Napoleon. Have you forgotten what that means? Seeing her uncle torn apart by his own dog, seeing that maniac who wanted her dead - it was more than she wanted to see. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, until she starts making googly eyes at my partner. Keeping him out, soaking wet. You'll probably have caught your death of cold."
"Are you sure you didn't hit your head when you sprained your knee?"
"Ha ha. Very funny. What's a cat doing in an office anyway?"
"Catching vermin. Or, in your case, tripping it up."
"You're repeating yourself."
"So ... nothing. If you had offered the ride nicely, instead of calling us lovebirds, I might have accepted. But no, you have to be snarky and -"
"Me? Me snarky? Look at the Russian pot calling the ... er, the American kettle black."
"You're not even making any sense. What do pots and kettles have to do with anything? Unless you mean it's a fine kettle of fish when UNCLE's number one womanizer has the nerve to say something to somebody else about womanizing. Which I wasn't! She is a very nice girl. Not your sort at all."
"So you didn't do the deed?"
"None of your business!"
"Well, don't worry, Illya. Your turn will come one of these days."
"My turn came last night. That's not what I meant. I meant she isn't one of your vamps. She happens to be a very nice girl, who happens to have a healthy appetite for ... well, for the deed."
"Seeing her again?"
"No. What's the point? It can't go anywhere, so there's no use leading her on."
"You're contradicting yourself. Nice girls don't have one night stands."
"Sometimes they do. With a mysterious foreign spy who can't get involved with them for their own safety, they might."
"Ah. The mysterious foreign spy card. I've played that one myself."
"I told you you would catch your death of cold. Come over my place tonight for dinner. I'll make chicken soup."
"No. I'm still miffed with you."
"Yes. You were sarcastic, and you called me a fool in front of the woman I was with."
"Don't be like that. I just don't like seeing you with somebody else. Anybody else."
"You have a nerve saying that, considering that I see you with somebody else all the time. You just don't like not getting the girl for once."
"I thought about that, actually. I wondered if maybe that was all that it was. But since I wasn't really in on this mission I never had a shot at the girl. Probably why you were able to ... ow!"
"That's what you get."
"Damn, Illya. That really hurt."
"Oh please. It was only your shoe. You should have kept it on your foot, then, if you didn't want somebody to throw it at you."
"My knee hurts. I'm putting it up. And I didn't want scuff marks on my desk. That's a nasty cough you're developing there. Sure you don't want some chicken soup? And brandy? And maybe a deed or two?"
"I think you chipped my tooth, Illya. I really do."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Come and take a look at it for me. Please?"
"Well, all right. No, it's not ... mmph! Mmph, mmm, Napoleon. That's not fair."
"You have the most luscious lips I've ever tasted. But they look lonesome. All they lack is a little chicken soup and ..."
"Come closer. I'll whisper it in your ear."
"Napoleon Solo! But come to think of it, your lips look a little lonely too."
"Well, I'll suck yours if you suck mine."
"And if I don't?"
"I'll suck yours anyway, and perhaps then I'll find someplace else for mine to ... er, be."
"No. You know you'll have to settle for my mouth."
"Well, there's no settling about that. But I thought, after that fiasco with Morgan? You said ..."
"I changed my mind."
"But I was really looking forward to it."
"That's your hard luck."
"Mmm. I like the way you kiss me when you're trying to make something else up to me."
"I like the way you kiss me. Period."
"Will there be crackers with that chicken soup? You know I like crackers with my soup."
"Yes I do know, and yes there will be. And how about a hot toddy instead of just brandy? I'm still on light duty - I'll take tomorrow off. And you?"
"Achoo! Yes, I'll take tomorrow off. Just don't forget whose fault it is if I'm sick. You'll have to nurse me back to health."
"Lots of chicken soup, hot toddies, and tender loving care, Illya mine. And ... Illya?"
"If you ever want to talk about ... anything, you know I'm here for you, right? Even if I am a bit of an ass sometimes?"
"Yes, I know. You've said so repeatedly."
"Okay. But if you want to ... er, drive, or pitch, or however one puts it ... I'm up for that too. I have no issues with it."
"I said no!"
"Okay, sweetheart. We won't talk about it anymore."
"Please stop using the same cheap nicknames you use for your loose women."
"I don't call my women that. Only you."
"Oh. Well, I suppose that's all right then. Just don't expect to hear it back."
"I don't. Six-thirty?"
"I'll be there, Napoleon. Lyublmaya moy."
"Look it up."