Nallya's P.O.V.

When our guests left, Illya went back to assembling his wooden plane in the library and Napoleon was probably looking for the paintings that were mentioned earlier. I couldn't blame the guy, all he wanted in his life was to steal art and have them or sell them. Atleast that's what Illya told me. The only thing Illya told me, actually. I got curious. I knew things about Illya but I didn't really know any about Napoleon. He seemed like a sophisticated version of money,lady,booze that you'd think is shallow enough to figure out. But it isn't easy. You can't tell if he's faking it or 99% of his personality is literally made out of sassy mouth and the remaining 1% his skills.

I walked around the manor to go find Napoleon, asking the butlers now and then if they've seen the eldest brother. None of them had, but I kind of knew from the beginning that he was just in the basement, figuring things out. My doubt made me do work for nothing.

I went back to the kitchen and came down the wine cellar. I recall the room having one of those barrels with a box on the lid where the tap was mounted on. It had a line down the middle unlike the rest and I figured it was something, but probably not an entrance to some secret lair or anything.

I walk to the very end of the room to find the exact barrel and check the structure. No super suspicious devices attched. I turned the tap on and wine poured out of it.

"Oh, not the shoes. Good one, Nallya."I cursed under my breath as the liquid splashed on my leg. I shake it off and stopped when the trickles came off, but my socks got soaked. Slowly removing my right shoe, I leaned on the barrel for balance. I successfully took it off  and passed it to my other hand. It hit the barrel as I went back to taking off my sock and that familiar hollow sound rang.

I put down my shoe-less foot, ignoring the wine soaking my sock thouroughly. I can always just wash it.

I knock on the barrel and it was all hollow, but it still poured wine.

I take out a tiny signal receptor from my jacket, scanning the cylinder from any but it wasn't detecting any technology.

"Come on, man. Do it for Napoleon. I just need to know things.." I whispered to the device that was clearly incapable of responding to me.

A few more inches, it started beeping on the tap.

"Please be a handle. Please be a handle"

I turn the tap to the right and the whole thing opens. The round lid getting seperated from the left half of the barrel and behind it a pipe that connected to the tap. It looked like it went through the other end of the barrel and to seperated stack of wine.

"Yay."

There was a staircase going down and it looked a bit dim. So I took out a flashlight and a gun before coming down.

The barrel closed and lights lining up the walls of a tunnel started turning on. It was almost endless. I looked back and there was nothing under the stairs.

I put my shoe on and start walking down the tunnel, occasionally looking back to see if there was anyone. When I finally reached an end, it was a vault. Not a regular vault. It has an ancient cryptex and a bunch of weird puzzles on one vault that looked straight out of a fictitious adventure novel. I was absorbed in the locks, I didn't notice Napoleon then on his knees trying to unlock them in his full black gear. His hair wasn't like how it was earlier. It was wet and a strand was out of its place and over his forehead. His eyebrows were knitted in focus and his eyes never leaving the bottom lock. That one looked normal.

"Are you going to help me or do you open secret passages for fun?" This time, he took a pause and put down the lock. He looks at me like he knows I will help either way. Without answering, I just start helping. I got three locks out of the way in the middle of our silence.

"Why are you here?"Napoleon halts from picking a lock.

"What? You think you're the only one who likes paintings?"

"Fair enough... or is it because I'm down here?"Napoleon sent me a shit eating grin and stands up from his position.

"Keep telling yourself that.... could you pass me my pick. I can't let go of the lock, it's going to clamp down." I held the lock with both my hands, trying to keep it from closing down on the key hole inside. The more I moved it the tighter it closed and it left me with only a bit of space to unlock the last piece for the vault to open.

"Where is it?"

"Uhh...... it's in my right sock. It should be on the cuff."Napoleon squated down and folded my pant leg up neatly and felt the sock. Probably because the pick blended in.

"It's wet."

"Ignore it."

"Is that wine?" I shoot him a glare while he looked up at me and he just smirks holding my leg.

"Do you want your priceless art or do you want to die?"

"I got it."Napoleon stood up and once again he was taller than me. He flashes me the pin and holds it still.

"Okay right, I need you to put it in." I could have worded that better. But who has the time. I mean especially when you're talking to someone who has non-stop sexual innuendos. I didn't think that through at all.

"Excuse me? Shouldn't you be buying me dinner first?"

"Napoleon." I said sternly and he does what he was told.

"Do you need me to pick it? Or do you have this?"

"I'm fine." I bit down on the pick and started working on the lock. It took a bit longer than how I usually would, but given that I'm both stubborn and capable, I did it myself.

It unlocks and there were a few clicks from the vault until the handle unlatches. In my defense I was having a moment of relief and my guard was down because the very moment I reached back for my pick, I was handcuffed to the deuce.

I lift our hands up and study the cuff.

"What the fuck."

"Whoops."Napoleon said smiling and walking in the vault while I was being pulled behind him.

"Do you not trust me?!"

"I don't trust anyone, sweetheart." Okay, that was a dumb question. He continues walking in and I saw the door closing behind us just 3 feet away.

"Wait, Napoleon, uncuff me right now we're going to get-" I tried my best to interrupt the cuff's mechanism but sadly it didn't work fast enough the door shuts and the click from it just confirmed that we were, in fact, stuck inside the Vault.

"Locked in..." There was another click and it wasn't from the door. It was the damned handcuffs on me again.

"You were saying something?"

"Мудак..." (asshole)

Normal P.O.V.

Nallya was obviously livid after Napoleon cuffed her again when the vault door closed. She's so worried about getting locked in, she probably wouldn't realize that there's a way out so he decided to have fun with it.

"Я ненавижу тебя..."(I hate you..)She said, grinding her teeth and pulling her hand from the cuff.

"You know you love me and please stop tugging on it."She stops and crosses her arms. Which also had Napoleon's because they were chained together after all. She looks down at the cuffs and sighs. Some pieces of her hair fell on her face and she got rid of it by blowing it away and going back to sulking.

"You're angry.."He says as they walk through stacks and crates.

Silence.

"I know you are, but I can't trust you. If I left you outside because who's to say You wouldn't have locked me yourself. I don't know a lot about you, you don't know a lot about me... Not even in these past few weeks. Think of this as a team building exercise. We're going to be spending a lot of time together" Napoleon elucidates. Making sure she knew it was just to build the trust. He liked Nallya, but he couldn't trust anyone. Not yet, anyways. So he just builds on knowing them. Analyzing the Russians. Nallya noted his words. So she cooperated.

While they were browsing towers of wooden boxes, Napoleon felt a hand envelope over his and he stops roaming to look back.

"It looked like a very uncomfortable position for your arms."She shrugged and looked away. He simpered at this when he went back to walking and searching through the stacks, tightening his grip from Nallya's hand every now and then.

He already knew what was inside the vault. The original Starry Night was one of them. He was there before Nallya went down and the reason his hair was wet was because there was a little barrel of wine that he accidentally knocked over when he was upstairs. He tried to catch it with his hands but it ended up on his head.

He felt Nallya let go and extend her hands into one of the crates that had the initials D.V. carelessly carved on it.

"Wait.." Napoleon helps her take the crate and her eyes twinkled when she removed the heavy cloth over it and took a look of what was inside.

There was a leatherbound book inside with wrinkled paper sticking out of the side. Napoleon knew exactly what it was and he knew Nallya did too by the look in her eyes.

"It's the journals... It's HIS journals." She mutters. Napoleon was entertained by the childlike reaction.

"May I?" He asked and she hands one to him. He opens it and shares the contents.

They both eventually got tired of standing and reading the exceptionally long journal and sat down on the floor to read the rest; Their back were against some of the crates and Nallya's head was resting on Napoleon's shoulder and kept her hand in his as they both scanned the pages. He mindlessly traced circles on her hand while he read.

"Is it okay to turn the page?" He asks and he recieves a hum of approval. Hours passed and none of them realized it until Nallya started yawning and they only had at least 35 pages left to read.

Napoleon was mindful of this and checked his watch.

"Hey... We better head back up. Peril is probably looking for us."

"How? We're stuck in here... you got us stuck in here." Napoleon thought about it for a moment. If it was worth it to still let her believe that they were actually stuck inside a vault under the manor. He saw how worn out Nallya looked and just for that Napoleon was done with the game.

"No, I didn't. You- thought we were stuck in here. However, I- knew there was an exit."

"I am not even going to argue... just get us out. I am soaked in wine and I smell like moldy cheese . I really don't care right now." Nallya stood up and dusted her pants, ignoring Napoleon's hand. She offers hers and Napoleon takes it and got on his feet.

"You're not the only one."Napoleon led the way and the two walked together hand in hand to the staircase that led them inside the wooden isle in the middle of the kitchen. Napoleon opens the door and lets Nallya out first.

When they both got out the kitchen, they sat on the floor and Napoleon starts unlocking the cuffs.

"I guess we're done for today."

"I thought you'd like to spend another ten hours in the cellar." Illya's voice boomed in the kitchen from the archway. He was leaning on the frame that was almost the same height as him with his arms crossed over his chest and surprisingly he wasn't wearing his flat cap.

"Hello, Red Peril."

"You might want to get out of the kitchen. Dinner is ready in an hour. We're having Ossobuco." Illya turns on his heels and almost started walking out when Nallya interrupted him.

"Hey, wait. Catch." Nallya tossed the leatherbound book to Illya and he caught it single handedly. He looks at the thing dumbfounded.

"The original sketches of Da Vinci's flying contraptions are there... that is, if you want to learn about them. I think it's on page... 167?"

"169 to 177." Napoleon corrected.

"What he said."

"I'll read about it while the two of you get ready. увидимся." (See you later). Illya actually walked out this time and the two got up from the floor and followed out.

"See you at dinner."Napoleon says before splitting away from Nallya in the hallway.

"Why do you all keep saying that. Our rooms are literally by each other." She walked away confused and took the stairs by the right end of the manor so that she'd only have to go up the stairs to get to her room.

----

When Nallya got into her room, she didn't know what triggered the episode. She hasn't' had one in the longest time and she usually knows the reason. This one, she didn't know at all. She just thew the table against wall and it broke into multiple pieces. "The hell..." She sighs and slumps down against the door when she reached the bathroom.

The bathroom was big; black tiled floors, high ceiling with a gold chandelier, a golden vanity mirror right when you open the door and there was a gold rimmed, black bathtub in the middle. Nallya looks around and she was calmed by the nature of the room.

Might as well take that bath.

She started stripping off her clothes, folded them them afterwards and put them on top of the console lined up with the door. She didn't have to lock the door because she assumed nobody would really go in her room. It escaped her mind that she just tossed a mahogany table on the wall not too long ago.

She was already in the bathtub when Illya kicked down the door with a gun in his hand, looking both undaunted and apprehensive. Which was a clashing combination.

Nallya was startled by this, but she didn't quite react the way she knew she would have. She just sat in the bathtub, scooping bubbles and blowing them back into the tub.

"I thought you were in trouble. I'll go now."Illya put down the gun and straightened up. The worry was evident on his face when his eyebrows furrowed.

"Please.. stay. If you want." She hummed, moving to the edge of the tub to lean on the rim with her chin on top of her arm.

Illya pauses for a moment and thinks about it, walks to the vanity mirror and pulls the seat from it to the side of the tub facing Nallya. He sits down and she looks up at him.

"Hi."

"Lapochka..."

"I haven't been honest with you." She reaches for his hand and he lets her. She tenderly traced over his knuckles with her thumb.

"That night at the hotel, I went to see you for help... I didn't escape to go see if you were alive. I just escaped. It wasn't even in the same week I saw you. I just found you in Belarus by chance and you were the only choice I had. I knew you could help me."She felt Illya's hand twitch faintly.

"I didn't even get to ask you... I felt too guilty. I mean I didn't believe them when they said you were dead... but at the back of my head I kind of did and I couldn't look you in the eyes and ask you 'Hey, Illya. I totally thought you were dead but now I know you're alive can you help me not get killed?' It sounded awful. Besides that, Napoleon saw me in the middle of leaving. It made me think twice." This time, Illya's hand tightened around Nallya's. Reassuring her.

"You should have just asked."

"I thought you'd be angry."

"I can't ever be angry at you." Illya used his free hand to tuck Nallya's hair at the back of her ear and cup the side of her face. She leaned unto his touch and nodded.

"At least you're alive... I'm glad to know you're the furthest from being dead ." They both chuckle at this but it died down.

"They think I have something that belongs to them... They keep calling it Specter. I think I missed a debriefing when they talked about it because I don't know what it is, but every KGB agent I've encountered for half of the year seems to know. It's not on the books. Not even in the classified files."Nallya detaches her head from Illya's hand, frustrated about the situation. The only reason she doesn't have the same head roasted on a stick by her old superiors is because she's temporarily off the grid and she's with Illya. But she knew it would only last a few weeks because eventually she'd have to get out of the manor to clear suspicions from anyone else.

Illya's heard about it. The word. Not exactly what it is it was out of context. The only thing he's ever heard about it is whoever has it, can win the arms race. When it's fully activated it can do anything even algorithms. It was a talk in the U.N.C.L.E. Facility by this small group of scientists. Until they saw him anyway.

"I don't know what it is.. but all I can do for now is keep you safe..." Illya soothes,

"Mhmm.." Nallya reached for the bottle of shampoo at the foot of the tub, but Illya picked it up for her. He rolled up his sleeves and motioned for her to turn around and as she did, he squeezed a fair amount on his hand and started massaging her scalp with it.

"If I didn't know better I would have thought you were a god.... your hands work wonders."Nallya purred in the middle of finishing her sentence as Illya's fingers weaved through the small knots of her hair.

"Please keep going.. we have thirty minutes."

"все что пожелаете. котенок." (Whatever you want, Kitten.) Illya murmured , continuing his work but Nallya's hands stop his and she brought them to the sides of her face. She craned her neck back to see him better and he looks down at her with complete adoration.

Illya lowers his head and plants a gentle kiss at the corner of her lips and Nallya smiles against the contact.

Illya pulls up and Nallya licks her lips, tasting a hint of a familiar liquid.

"Montepulciano, is it? You've been drinking the wine from the cellar." She asked slyly, fake guessing because she knew it was exactly that.

"I still don't know how you do that." Illya snickered throwing his head back.

"I am secretly Grigori Rasputin. I am wiser than you." Nallya puts her arms up and mimicks Illya's voice.

"Not funny."

"It's a little funny." Illya groans in defeat.

A knock on the door interrupted the silly conversation and they broke away.

"Come in."

Along came Napoleon with a new suit on and a synchronized smile on his face when he saw what he interjected. Illya doesn't look at him, instead he starts washing Nallya's hair with a detachable shower head.

"What do we have here? I'm disappointed that I wasn't invited."

"Just pull in a chair if you're going to stick around. That's what Illya did. Or you can go and close the door on your way out."

"I'd hate to miss such a sight." Napoleon pulls another chair beside the bath tub and he settles on it, offering Nallya his hand after removing his jacket and putting it on the back of the seat.

Nallya takes it and he starts kneading the back of her hand with his thumbs.

"How much time do we have until dinner?"

Illya flips his wrist to look at his watch.

"Twenty three minutes.. "

Nallya nods and put her hand on Napoleon's inner thigh on her left side and the other holding unto one of Illya's arms, eyes clouded with concupiscence.

"What do you two want to do?"

----------

"Grazie, Mama. Come sempre, è molto delizioso." Nallya praised from her end of the table, raising a glass of Moscato in respect.

"Stanno sentirsi male, Signore William?" Mama Agata asked in concern.

The two men were silent the entirety of dinner and Nallya might have had something to do with that.

"Sono Stanchi, Mama. " (They are just tired)

"Ahh.Essi dovrebbero riposare ora."(Oh. They better rest then.)

"Dirò loro due." (I will tell the two.) Agata left and Nallya swallowed down the last ounce of the wine with a razz smirk.