Napoleon was driving the "happy" family to their new home in the Suburbs. He kept glancing in the rear view mirror at the small blonde figure in the back, who was still sulking and hadn't spoken a word to him all morning.

April was looking behind at Illya. "Don't worry Napoleon, Illya's just amercing himself in his role as the moody child," she turned her attention to Napoleon again, "what happened between you guys last night anyway?"

Napoleon saw Illya stiffen in the back seat, "nothing happened between us."

"Then what was it?"

"An incident occurred between, Illya and my date," he saw Illya glare at him in the mirror, "he only has himself to blame."

"How was I supposed to know your date didn't like children?" He knew he'd been a nuisance all evening, he never would have acted the way he had if he'd known that Candy was the eldest of 9 children, and had been forced to look after them. Now in her adult life she couldn't stand children. Especially small blonde ones who tried their best to drive a wedge between her and the man she was dating. Napoleon should have warned him. Still she had no right to do what she did and Illya was determined to make Napoleon suffer for not standing up for him more.

"Hey I broke up with the woman, what more did you want?"

"You should have kicked her out when the incident occurred, not slept with her first."

"Hey I didn't know about it till she told me, you didn't say anything. It's actually rather funny you know."

"It is not. It hurt."

"Illya Kuryakin, you've been tortured by Thrush, a spanking is nothing in comparison."

"Illya, what exactly did you do?" asked a curious April.

"Well I…" he launched enthusiastically into a tale of one small boy against the vastness of Napoleon Solo's seduction vocabulary. April couldn't help herself, she burst out laughing at the thought of Napoleon trying to defend his romantic notions for the evening from a very sneaky Russian boy. Oh yes, Illya deserved the punishment which he received, but she couldn't imagine what kind of a person would be willing to lay a hand on the adorable little boy.

"Napoleon Solo, don't you dare stick me with all the cooking just because I'm pretending to be your wife."

"Well Mr Waverly did say we should amerce ourselves in our roles. Yours is that of housewife and mother. Now I'm going to prowl around for a bit, see if anything or anyone looks suspicious."

April fumed when Napoleon had left.

"Don't worry April, it isn't just you. He did the same thing with me on our last mission in Suburbia. I ended up doing all the cleaning and cooking even though we promised to share household tasks." Illya smiled when a thought occurred to him, "April."

"What?"

"I know how to make a soufflé."

April recalled the story of Illya's soufflé and she smiled too. They say revenge is a dish which is best served cold.

"April? Illya?" he called.

"I'm in the kitchen," a boyish voice sang out.

When Napoleon entered the Russian was standing on a stool, so he could reach the workbench. He was covered with chocolate.

"Er, what are you doing?"

"I'm helping April make chocolate pudding."

"Isn't some of it supposed to go into the bowl?"

The Russian ignored him.

"Where is April anyway?"

"She's upstairs putting clean covers on the beds."

"Maybe I should give her a hand."

"She already has one, two in fact." He said coldly. "Helping in domestic chores is hardly in your job description as father provider is it?"

"No, there's just something about beds which peaks my interests."

"Forgive me, I should have known."

"Yes you should."

"Have you found anything? Assuming of course that you were looking for suspicious activity and not prowling for the next likely prospect."

"What me? I'm a happily married man. No there was nobody acting out of the ordinary. Besides I have all the likely prospects I'll need for the moment," he said favouring April with a seductive smile as she walked through the door into the kitchen. "What's for dinner April?"

"Soufflé," Illya announced rather coldly, drawing Napoleon's attention back to him.

Napoleon shot him a bemused look and then winced, as he remembered the previous soufflé Illya had ruined. "Em who made it?" he asked with obvious concern.

"We both did," Illya and April said simultaneously.

Napoleon got the feeling he'd been ganged up on. He sighed, it was going to be a long mission, and getting longer by the minute.

April took a look at the Russian, she wiped off some of the chocolate which was covering the Russian's face and tasted it. "At last we know what little Russian boys are made of. It's chocolate. Illya you're a mess. You're going to have a shower before you even have any dinner." He made no objection, as April picked him up and carried him out of the kitchen and to the bathroom, he'd seen the look of jealousy on Napoleon's face.

He reached out with one of his hands to where April should be and felt a mop of hair. Strange, he thought to himself, he distinctly remembered April putting her hair into a plat before she got into bed. He flicked on the bedside lamp and realised that April had found her own teddy-bear to cuddle. He wondered how the Russian had managed to creep into the room and April's arms without waking him. He lay fast asleep with his head on April's chest and she had her arms wrapped protectively around him. Oh well, he thought as he switched out the light and wrapped his arms around April and the Russian babe, if you couldn't beat them, join them. He snuggled closer to enjoy the heat.

His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was that he might enjoy the assignment after all.