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Work Text:
Avoidance Tactics
Napoleon paused just inside the door, astounded. Illya was sitting up in his hospital bed, calmly working last Sunday's Times' crossword in ink. Other than the setting in Medical and the large bandage on his temple, Illya might have been at home relaxing.
"Is there something I should know, tovarich? I thought I'd find you half-dressed, snarling at the nurses, determined to leave."
"No, it is just a graze." Illya brushed his bandage with the hand holding the pen. "But the doctors say I should remain under observation until tomorrow, and they are the professionals." He looked back down to the paper.
Having no idea what brought about this complete change in his partner's view of all things Medical, Napoleon decided it was best just to humor him. 'All right, then, I'll… see you tomorrow morning when you're released?"
Illya nodded absently, chewing his pen, leaving Napoleon to make his puzzled way back to their office.
He sat down just as Mr. Waverly's secretary buzzed him. "Mr. Solo, have you found a replacement for Mr. Kuryakin for the party this evening? Santa can't hand out gifts without his elf."
"Sneaky Russian," Napoleon muttered, rubbing his face. Illya hated that costume.