Ghost from the Past AffairThis is a featured page

By Jkkitty
Chapter 1
"Would you please stop looking over my shoulder and let me get this done." Illya Kuryakin said with exasperation.

"How much longer will it take to finish that report?" Napoleon Solo looked at his watch, a sure sign he had somewhere else he wanted to be.

"If you would stop asking me every five minutes or maybe helped with the details, I would be done quicker. Where is it that you are in such a rush to get to?"

"Your sister leaves tomorrow on assignment, and I have a sumptuous night planned for us." He said raising his eyebrows.

Illya leaned back in his chair, waiting for his partner to continue. He knew his sister had left earlier to get ready for the evening.

"Can you please keep typing? Waverly expects my signature on that report too, so I can't leave until you are done." Impatience could be heard in his voice.

"From that, I assume Mr. Waverly has once more talked to you about not doing your share of our reports."

"Well he did mention that you seemed to be doing most of them. He just doesn't understand that you type better and faster than I do. After all as senior agent, I help with the details of the assignment."

"Is that why you leave all the reports to me?"

The phone rang rescuing Napoleon from having to answer.

"Solo here."

"Mr. Solo is Mr. Kuryakin with you?" Waverly asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Then put this call on speaker phone."

He did as requested.

"We just received word from the USSR embassy that a Russian Thrush operative is heading toward the US with the intention of going after Mr. and Miss Kuryakin because of events that happened during their time in Russia. Because of this I'd like you Mr. Solo to check on Miss Kuryakin while Mr. Kuryakin remains in headquarters until more information is obtained."

"Yes, sir. However, we're finishing up our report. You did state you needed it immediately." He said with a smirk.

"Mr. Kuryakin can finish it up this time. Check on Miss Kuryakin," Napoleon's smirk increased. "And Mr. Solo next report you can do all by yourself to make up for not helping with this one."

A smile spread across the Russian's face.

Napoleon looked at the dead phone on his desk, sighed and headed out the door toward Jo's apartment.


The doorbell chimed and Jo hurried to the door drying her waist long hair. This was her last day off before going on an assignment to Africa and she was looking forward to a romantic evening with Napoleon.

"Solo, you are early. I am not even dressed yet," she said as she threw open the door without looking through the peek hole.

Raising her head, she saw an unexpected man standing there. Going toward her gun in her waistband, she stopped when he spoke.

"Certainly you did not forget me?"

She took in a deep breath saying softly, "Pyotr?"

"Yes it is I, may I come in?" He pushed her aside entering without waiting for her to invite him in.

"Are you surprised Josephina? You were told by the General I was dead, am I correct?"

He pulled her toward him, kissing her hard as she tried to pull out of his embrace.

"I have missed you, my dear."

Letting her go, he strolled further into the apartment as if he owned it.

"Pyotr, how can you be here, I understood you were executed. Where have you been?"

"As you know and helped him to find out, General Skobelev became upset with my other activities and allegiances so he had me convicted of treason. I think he did not want you to suffer because of our relationship, so he lied to you."

He reached out grabbing her roughly, pulling her toward him again, this time biting her lip as he forced himself on her.

"Jo, are you ready yet?"

She heard Napoleon's voice and realized that the door hadn't been closed all the way. He saw her as she pulled away from Pyotr.

Her lover's presence caused her to glance down at the ring he had given her promising a future for them. Now, with the appearance of the man before her, everything would change.

"I am sorry, please come in," she said closing the door before moving back toward the middle of the room away from both men.

Napoleon looked over the man who had moved closer to Jo placing an arm over her shoulders. As the two men looked at each other, she felt trapped in a nightmare.

Stepping forward, the CEA offered his hand to the other man, "Napoleon Solo."

With his free arm, the man put out his hand, "Pyotr Ivanovich Baskov, Josephina's husband. And how do you know her?"

Without losing his smile, he said, "I'm her boss and friend."

She felt her life slipping away; most wouldn't have heard the pain in Napoleon's voice, but she could. She knew she needed to explain to him what was going on, but honestly wasn't sure herself what the situation was. All she knew was that the General needed to be contacted to get an explanation.

"Napoleon, I will talk to you later." She pulled out of the arm that held her and walked to the door with the man she loved. He opened his mouth to argue but she placed her fingers on his lips.

"Please," she whispered. "Let me find out what is going on. I believed him dead."

He touched her face gently, "Later."

She watched him walk down the hall, looking as if his world had collapsed. After he had entered the elevator, she slammed the door turning angrily to look at Pyotr who was grinning at her.

"Did I cause a problem between you and that man?"

"You had no right to tell him that we were married."

"But we are my dear. You are my wife even if the General demanded it at the time. He never had the marriage set aside, or am I wrong, and he took care of it?"

"I need to talk to him," she began walking toward the phone.

She was grabbed, turned and hit causing her head to snap back sharply, taking a second slap before she could rebalance herself.

"You will do no such thing. I have plans that involve you and my employers."

Pulling the gun from her waistband, she pressed it into his stomach.

"If you touch me again, you will find it is the last thing you ever do. Now get out of my apartment. I will contact you after I speak to the General."

He smiled at her, "You win this round, but I have plans for you, my dear, and I do not think you will like the outcome. Do not doubt that I will return to finish this."

With that, he sauntered out the door. She quickly secured the door before collapsing on the couch in tears.


Illya looked up as his partner walked into their office and was concerned by the look on his face.

"What is it my friend? You look as if you lost your last best friend."

"That's you, tovarisch. What do you know about Pyotr Baskov?"

"Pyotr? He was a traitor who was shot for treason. Why is he of interest to you?"

Napoleon shook his head as he picked up the phone calling Section Four.

"Hello Amy this is Solo. Can you get me all the information we have on Pyotr Ivanovich Baskov? He is a Russian Nationalist that was supposed to have been executed a few years ago or so."

After a few minutes of discussion, he hung up the phone answering his partners questioning look.

"I thought you and Jo were supposed to go out today. What happen? Did she come back with you?"

""I just met him at Jo's apartment, and he introduced himself as her husband."

"Are you sure it was he?"

"Jo didn't deny it. She asked me to leave."

Illya didn't understand what was happening. The General, he was sure that the man was responsible for whatever it was.
He watched as Napoleon paced the office. It was strange to see him this way; normally he was the one who paced while his partner waited patiently.

The American couldn't get the image of the man out of his mind and the controlling attitude as he had pulled her close to him when they had met. He could see she had been uncomfortable, yet she hadn't denied his comment.

He remembered the hurt he had caused her when he had cheated on her but keeping the fact that she was married from him seemed worse.

'Oh hell," he thought this wasn't the same thing and he knew it. She had to have a reason for not telling him, and he needed to give her time to explain.

It would work out for them of this he was sure. He looked at the phone again, why didn't it ring. Illya head snapped up as he heard the sound of Napoleon slamming his desk.

"Why is it the two of us can't live our lives the way we want? How many other secrets will come back to interfere with our plans?"

"You know my friend, that you also have secrets from her. I do not believe she did this on purpose."

After a deep breath, Napoleon said softly, "I know, but every time we seem to be achieving a balance, something else comes along to interrupt it."

Illya's communicator beeped requesting both of them in Waverly's office immediately.

Chapter 2

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