Another Year's Victory
"I'm afraid Mr. Solo that your partner is in serious trouble."
Napoleon sighed at the doctor's news. "I knew this day would come. With all we have been through, everything he has been through. Our luck was bound to change for the worst."
"All I can say is, he may recover in time, but he will be a changed man."
"Can I see him now?"
"Give it a few minutes my nurse is finishing up with him." Then the doctor walked away to continue on his rounds, leaving Napoleon to contemplate his partner once again.
Fifteen minutes later the nurse left the room and Napoleon was able to join him. He was lying on his side in bed. His skin had a pale cast to it and his eyes were bleak. Napoleon went over and sat next to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
"How do you feel tovarish?"
"How do you think I'm feeling? I'm dying." Illya moaned pitifully.
Napoleon chuckled at his friend's reaction. "Your not dying, but I'm sure you wish you were."
"Uggg, just shoot me." Illya begged even as he rolled closer to his partner.
Napoleon continued as if he never heard his friend speak. He did move his hand to start petting Illya's hair. "Though I must say you were impressive. I think that was a new record."
"I don't care for records, just relief." He groaned into the pillow.
"I don't think I have heard of anyone else downing 59 marshmallow peeps covered in chocolate sauce in under 10 minutes. But I do think you are suppose to use water to wash it down, not vodka."
"Water is not as smooth as vodka. I felt I would need more water to swallow those evil things then vodka."
"Well you were impressive. No one did it better then you. But when you left before they could give out the rewards, they handed yours to me."
Illya looked up into the grinning face of his partner and became wary at what he saw. Napoleon pulled out a six-inch statue that was in the shape of a duck. In bold lettering on the bottom it said.
Master of the Marshmallow.
Three years running.
Three years running.
Illya groaned again, closing his eyes.
"This is the third year you have done this. And like every other year you have ended up with an upset stomach afterwards."
"Yes and its all your fault since you started that stupid contest in the first place. Now the younger agents stop at nothing to become the Master of the Marshmallow."
"You could always give up." Napoleon teased.
"NEVER!" Cried Illya.
"Well then I suggest you get dressed we need to head on home."
"Fine but your driving!"
"Whatever you want love." Napoleon bent over and gave him a quick kiss.
As the pair stood and Napoleon helped him into his jacket, he couldn't stop himself from one last comment.
"But you know Illya, besides this one setback. The Halloween party was a howling success."
"You would think so." Illya grumbled
"Come on lets get you home and you can sleep off your victory for another year."
And together the pair walked out of headquarters. Another year's victory behind them.