Illya Kuryakin stood inside the dressing room adjusting his shoulder-holster, which was far too big for him. He had made sure to take it from his locker, when April had said they were going shopping and concealed it along with his gun beneath his pyjamas. It felt heavy and bulky under his new suit, which Del Floria had just made for him. But as the senior agent Illya knew that it was up to him to be prepared for any ambush by THRUSH or anyone else who might be out to get them. He thought about telling Napoleon he was taking his weapon, but then thought better of it. Napoleon would assume that he wouldn't be leave his gun behind and he hadn't ordered him not to carry it, so it must be alright.

"Illya, are you alright?" April called rather impatiently from outside the dressing room.

"I'm fine April, I'm just coming out," he had one last try at pulling his gun out of the holster and then putting it away, just to make sure he could get at it easily, then walked out to join April. "So what do you think?"

"Oh you look very cute, Illya," then noticing his expression, she rephrased it, "I mean handsome, you look very handsome. Hold my hand Illya," she held out her left hand expectantly. He looked at it as though it were a snake which was going to bite him, then with a sigh he placed his little hand into hers. He realised that she was doing it for the sake of appearances but he didn't have to like it.

As they were moving towards the car Illya automatically broke his hold on April and went to the drivers' side of the car.

"Illya you're not driving, you can't reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel at the same time."

"Okay April, you drive and I'll ride shotgun," he spoke with a smile. Something told her that he had given in too easily. She wondered if she should ask him if he'd brought his gun with him, but thought better of it. Surely Napoleon had made sure he'd left his gun back in his locker, a six-year old Illya Kuryakin armed with a Walther didn't bare thinking about.

The mall was quite crowded when they got there. April decided to start looking for Illya's clothing first, rather than trying to replace her own clothing which was damaged on her and Mark's last assignment. After all his need of clothing did seem greater than hers.

Illya and April were in the communal changing rooms of the children's department. Unbeknownst to them they were being watched by a female Thrushie, who'd followed them in. She and her boyfriend (a fellow Thrushie) had just happened to be shopping in the mall when they'd spotted April Dancer with a child. They'd figured that the boy must be important for April Dancer to be guarding him. The two Thrushies were the kind of people that stuck out like a sore thumb. The man wore his sunglasses even in doors to hide a scar on his face, which lead people to give him the nickname scarface. The woman although quite pretty hid her good looks beneath, thick glasses and her hair was tightly held in a bun, whilst her legs were covered with fishnet stockings.

"Come on Illya, try on this underwear," she coaxed.

Illya gave the underwear, which April had chosen a disdainful look, he thought the teddy bears which were covering them were completely unnecessary. Of course he had seen the other choices available and even he had to admit they were the best of the bunch. He couldn't exactly keep wearing the same underwear each day, Napoleon, the fastidious person that he was, wouldn't let him. Besides, he thought, it's not as if anyone was going to see them.

"No, I'm not having you watching me while I strip. Turn around."

She did so with a heavy sigh. She wondered if it were Napoleon or Mark to have been turned into a child whether they'd be quite as embarrassed about stripping in front of her. Probably not, she decided.

"You're such a spoilsport Illya," she teased. When she received no answer she tried again, the Russian would often give people the silent treatment when he was upset, "Illya." She peeked over her shoulder expecting to be rebuffed by a very angry Russian, but Illya was gone.

The fishnet stockings had saw her chance when April turned around. Illya was bending down to untie his left shoe and didn't notice her until she had one hand across his mouth and the other around his waist. He tried to flip her over his shoulder, but his movements failed to have the desired effect and she lifted his struggling body quite easily. As he struggled he silently cursed his sense of dignity and modesty with April. Okay so he wasn't exactly modest, after all there was really little to see, which was entirely the problem. April with her back turned wouldn't notice he was gone, straight away.

Once they were outside the shop the fishnet stockings handed Illya over to scarface, who carried him away from the mall crowds to a more secluded area. Illya struggled with scarface, who dropped him after a particularly viscous bite. He landed on his feet, pulling out his weapon as he did so, the Thrushies were obviously unimpressed probably believing it was a toy. As they moved towards him, his hand squeezed the trigger. Illya wasn't exactly sure what happened, one minute he was on his feet and the next the force of the gun firing, knocked him on his butt. He shook his head, slightly dazed and suddenly remembered Newton's third law of motion. Briefly he thought about the equal and opposite force exerted on him when he fired and how he should have thought of that earlier. The force of the blast which had knocked him on his butt, had also thrown off his aim and he had missed both Thrushies. They approached him more cautiously realising that he was more dangerous than he looked.

He felt beneath his Micky Mouse watch remembering how he'd hated it when Napoleon had given it to him earlier that day and now he was thankful for it. He had a knockout capsule hidden underneath the watch face. As they came closer he held his breath, he smashed the capsule on the floor at their feet. They fell to the floor and he walked off as if nothing had happened.

"Napoleon it's not like I set out to lose him on purpose, it just sort of happened," April said to a very angry Napoleon who was on the other end of her communicator.

"Okay, I'm coming to the mall, to help find him…"

"Wait Napoleon, I think that announcement is about Illya… Be quiet a minute."

"Would April Dancer please pick up her son from Gino's ice-cream parlour…" said the woman on the loud speaker.

"Oh that'll be Illya alright, only he would manage to get lost near a place that sells food. You'd better hurry before he eats all the ice-cream. Oh and April?"

"Yes Napoleon?"

"You will make sure he doesn't leave your sight after this."

"Yes Napoleon even if I have to handcuff him to my wrist to do it."

When April finally got to security she found Illya, shovelling ice-cream in his mouth at the same time as he was telling security exactly what had happened with the Thrushies and how they should go and arrest them. They were nodding their heads clearly not believing one word he was saying.

When April finally managed to get Illya away from his ice-cream and security, she called in to headquarters to have someone pick up the Thrushies.

"I hope all that ice-cream you had isn't going to ruin your appetite?" At the indignant look Illya give her, she realised her mistake, "my goodness what am I saying?"

"You were saying you'd like to buy me lunch."

They were sitting down to eat lunch in a small café. They both looked at the menus, when a waitress came over.

"Are you ready to order yet?"

"I'll have the special," April replied with a smile.

"We have a children's special too, for your son."

"Oh he'll have that," April said before Illya could open his mouth to speak. She realised she'd most likely be paying for this little meal, and she didn't want to have to pay a fortune. Especially since Illya would probably be having seconds. She remembered with a smile, how he'd managed to con a load of ice-cream out of the security men.

When the meal came Illya looked at his with disdain, what was it that he found more degrading, he wondered, the smiling faces which had been cut into his potato slices or the fact that his meal seemed so much smaller than April's was? He thought about it for a moment. Yes it was definitely that his meal was too small. He'd have to teach them a lesson for their scrimpy potions. After he'd finished both his and April's meals he proceeded to do just that.

After they'd been urged to leave the café, they continued their shopping until Illya decided he wanted to attend to a call of nature and tried to go into the men's room, only to be stopped by April's hand on his arm.

"April what are you doing?"

"You're not supposed to leave my sight Illya."

"Then what do you expect me to do? Stay out here and water the potted plants?"

"No you'll have to use the ladies, and don't you dare think of causing a scene like the one you made back at the café. I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed and the things those people were saying about me not being able to control my own son. I'd have spanked you if it wasn't for the fact you'd probably put me on report."

The rest of their shopping trip continued without incident, April decided to drive back to headquarters to fill in her report on the incident. The Russian looked to April to be very weary and she realised it was probably due to the fact that he was smaller now that he'd walked twice as far as she had that day.

They saw Napoleon as they entered headquarters.

"How are you?"

"Fine."

"Then why are you limping?"

"It seems six year olds have problems firing guns due to Newton's third law of motion they tend to wind up on their butts. I'm going to need a smaller gun."

"Children aren't supposed to have guns."

"Children aren't supposed to have PhD's either."

"Are you hurt bad?"

"I just fell the wrong way, I'm not as young as I used to be," he said dryly. "The only thing that's really hurt is my pride."

"Oh so that's where you keep it?"

The Russian ignored him and walked away.

"April you're still alright with taking him for the night aren't you?"

"Oh sure Napoleon, we'll have a swell time."

"Em not too swell a time."

Illya limped into his own office with April in tow and surprised her by typing up the report on his own typewriter very quickly. She wondered for a moment why on earth he hadn't made her do it. When she worked with Napoleon Solo there was no question who would be writing the reports and she wondered whether it was because the Russian was so used to writing them. He'd stopped typing and was staring into empty space, his eyes slowly closing and April realised that he was going to sleep.

"Illya?" She called softly. The Russians eyes snapped open, "why don't you let me write it? You're going to fall asleep any second."

"If I let you write the report we'd never get home."

"Hey I can type."

"I'm almost finished anyway." He finished typing the report and promptly fell asleep in his chair. April realised that she was going to have to carry him. She picked him up in her arms resting his head against her chest.

She looked at the packages, which she'd dumped in one corner of the office. How on earth was she going to move one sleeping Russian and half a dozen large packages from UNCLE headquarters to her apartment?

It was then that Mr Waverly entered the room.

"Ah Ms Dancer, I see Mr Solo has you looking after young Kuryakin."

"Er yes sir, we were just leaving for my apartment."

"May I take him Ms Dancer, they're so adorable when they're that age, of course you don't tell them that."

April handed the sleeping Russian over to Mr Waverly and picked up the packages. April thought that Mr Waverly looked very much the Grandpa and it was hard to associate him with the same stern man who sent them on their missions. April wondered what on earth Illya would do if he woke up to see Mr Waverly carrying him?

Luckily she didn't have to find out they reached the changing rooms of Del Floria's and Mr Waverly rather reluctantly it seemed, handed him back, after April had once again dropped her packages.

She clutched the Russian securely as she phoned for a cab to pick her up outside of Del Floria's and after she'd put the phone down she remembered that she still had all those packages to carry. She realised that she probably should have asked the cab driver to come into Del Floria's to assist her.

She needn't have worried though, Mr Del Floria seeing her predicament, helped her carry the Russian outside. While she once again was stuck carrying packages. What was it about these men anyway? Couldn't they see that she could carry the boy perfectly fine and it was the packages she was having trouble with?

"I have a grandson his age," Mr Del Floria mentioned as he handed the Russian back to her once she and the packages were settled in the cab. April wondered if Del Floria realised that this was the same young man who entered Del Floria's on his way in to work each day. Somehow she didn't think so.

The sleeping Russian seemed oblivious to the commotion going on around him. April looked down at him, as he lay in her arms. He looked very cute when he was sleeping. Not that he didn't when he was awake, but at least like this she didn't have to put up with his crankiness.

When the reached their destination, the cab driver quickly got out to hold the door open for her, and kindly took the child whilst she got out. Though once again, the cab driver was reluctant to give up the child and she was delegated once more to baggage handler.

The cab driver returned the sleeping child to April's arms outside the door of her apartment. She adjusted the Russian's position on her shoulder until she could reach inside her purse to pay the man. After he was paid the man left and April was once again stuck with a sleeping child and packages, she unlocked the door and was pondering what to do when she sensed someone behind her.

"Can I give you a hand there April," said one of her neighbours, and she tightened her hold on her precious bundle.

The Russian didn't stir until she settled him on the couch in her living room, then his eyes flickered open sleepily.

"How'd I get here?"

"By relay team."

"What?"

"Never mind. Do you want something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry, just very tired. I usually sleep much better after I've had a couple of glasses of vodka, though."

"That may be true, but I don't have any vodka."

April stripped the sleepy Russian down and put him into his blue pyjamas', then carried him into the small guest bedroom. Illya protested throughout, but was too exhausted to fight her very much.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8