Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to 'The Man from U.N.C.L.E' film or television series. This is a non-profit piece of work made solely for the purpose of entertainment.
Six Months
Chapter 1
One of her happier memories of that six months was surprisingly mundane. It was the simple pleasure of a shared meal- prepped and cooked twice over since the first attempt resulted in an inedible charred mess that may once have belonged to an animal. That in itself would have been enough to ruin the evening had it not been for a low chuckle accompanying the sound of a pair of hands, much larger than her own, beginning to chop vegetables for a stew. Before she could even begin to protest that she was supposed to be cooking a meal for him, a large glass of vodka was quickly pushed into her hands and she was sent away from the little kitchen. She had spent the next hour with a content smile, sipping her drink and watching him work with the same efficiency he applied to any other task. Later that evening, pleasantly tipsy, she had fallen asleep in his lap as he told her about what he had done that day at his boring accountancy job. Her last conscious sensation before she drifted off was of his lips pressing against the top of her head.
The news that the American delivers quite callously initially strikes Gaby with an unexpected feeling of numbness, but it does not take long for that feeling to heat into a quiet fury that she is quick to conceal. She had always thought that her father was being held in a prison somewhere, or even dead. Hearing that he has been living cosily in the USA while she has spent most of her life in fear of being reported for her Western sympathies and apprehended by the Stasi, ignites the flame of an old anger that she had thought she had moved on from. At least now she has the chance to escape over the wall with the American's help, although she is sure that Waverly will not be pleased when he hears about the unexpected intervention.
In her late foster father's garage, the American points at the window as he persuades her to go along with his plan. Curious, she peeks out to see a tall figure concealed in the shadows, and for a moment she starts in recognition. The height and build of the man are achingly familiar. She moves slightly closer to the glass to try to get a better look at him, but the cap that is pulled low over his face prevents her from confirming or rejecting her suspicions. Not wanting to linger on such thoughts, she steps back again, almost bumping into the American in her haste to get away from the window. He quickly leads her towards the car, and as she gets into the driver's seat she shakes her head slightly, trying to dislodge the stupid stubborn idea.
After a short period of driving, she notices they have a tail that is gradually creeping closer to them, and despite his position in the back on the car the American notices as well. As the other car edges nearer and stops beside them, he quietly asks her questions as she resolutely stares ahead and tries to subtly answer him.
"Is he looking at us?"
Gaby turns her head slightly to look at the other driver, supposedly KGB if she believes the CIA agent, and as they make eye contact she feels all the air in her lungs suddenly escape through her mouth to emit a slightly strangled gasp. She has not seen him for half a year, but his face is not one she would easily forget. She flushes slightly as she realises how ridiculous she must look at this moment with her mouth slightly agape and her eyes open with shock. He looks back at her without any surprise, his expression unreadable. Of course, she thinks suddenly, he will have been given her photo by the KGB. He has likely had hours to digest the news. So distracted is she that she almost misses her companion repeating the question, she answers quickly, still not taking her eyes off the man in the other car. He maintains eye contact before suddenly flicking his gaze to the backseat of her car and back. She thinks this might be a message of some sort, and as she hears the agent's next question she realises what he is trying to tell her. The gun he is no doubt holding in the hand not resting on the steering wheel, is not intended for her but for her passenger.
It is a small reassurance to know that he is not there to kill her, but it is quickly followed by a large pang of anxiety as she realises that regardless of what is going to happen this evening is not going to end on a happy note. If he manages to incapacitate the American, he will have to take her to some KGB safe house for interrogation, an interrogation she suspects will be far less amiable than one involving the CIA. But if they manage to evade him or kill him, then she will never see him again and this short time spent side by side, separated by the metal of two cars, will be a reunion that is far more bitter than sweet.
She slams her foot on the pedal as the bullets are fired, not daring to glance back to see what has become of Viktor (if that is his name, she has no way of knowing for sure and now will likely not have the opportunity to ask). She feels an absurd burst of happiness as she glances into the rear-view mirror to see that the car behind them is pursuing them again, signifying that the driver had managed to avoid the two shots aimed at his head. They resume the chase, Gaby doing her best to employ any and all possible evasive manoeuvres, a smile starting to emerge on her face as the adrenaline kicks in. She can practically hear his frustration as she forces his car on to a different section of the road, she imagines that he is cursing violently in Russian as he moves the gears into reverse and her smile gets wider.
Gaby doesn't think the American suspects anything, he has been busy concentrating on the map and she can always excuse her initial hesitation as caused by fear. From their hiding spot among the parked cars, she can see the KGB agent drive past. The American issues some instructions as he gets out of the car, she nods and prepares to follow them before feeling his hand suddenly touch her shoulder. She turns in surprise to look at him attempting to give her a reassuring smile.
"It is going to be okay." He tells her slowly, meeting her gaze. She nods and looks away, hands already moving to the wheel and gearstick.
She is returning to the parking spot when she hears the bullets being shot, shortly followed by the unmistakable sound of a car crashing into a wall. Before she can process what has just happened, the American is back in the car and hurriedly issuing directions. She complies, and less than five minutes later the Russian is back on their trail, this time chasing them without a car. She wants to laugh and hit him at the same time for how stupidly stubborn he is being, the amusement rapidly changes to alarm as she realises that actually he is doing a pretty decent job of slowing down the car with his bare hands. Even her companion is in somewhat disturbed awe at their pursuer. Eventually the trunk of the car is ripped off, and she takes the opportunity to speed away before the CIA agent can try to shoot him.
They don't see him again until they are preparing to zip wire down to the van driven by Agent Jones, and then she can only spare him a glance once they are safely in the back of the van and he is dangling precariously over the minefield. He catches her eye briefly before dropping down to the ground. She flinches instinctively, expecting to hear the sound of a mine exploding beneath him and ripping him to shreds. She breathes out a sigh of relief when she hears no such sound, and the American claps her on the shoulder.
"You're safe now." He tells her, clearly mistaking her relief for the agent's survival for relief at having escaped him. She gives him a thin smile and settles down in the van to wait to see what will happen to her now. She hopes that the man she knew as Viktor is valuable enough to the KGB for them to clear the minefield to safely get him out, but she knows that they won't be happy that he has failed to retrieve her.
At the CIA safe house, Gaby is deep in thought and halfway through a glass of wine when Agent Solo abruptly interrupts her musings by putting a plate of risotto in front of her. The act promptly reminds her of the last time someone made a meal for her and she has to deeply bite her lip to prevent an outward show of emotion. She manages to exchange a few remarks with Solo before he moves into another room to speak to his superiors. As soon as he leaves, she takes a deep gulp of wine and enjoys the numbness it spreads throughout her.
She almost wishes she hadn't seen him again today, the happy memories he brought with him are unwelcome as each one is a painful reminder of something that cannot be. She had always hoped that she would see him again, but each of those wishful fantasies had always involved him returning to East Berlin permanently, and now that she is on the other side of the wall there is no chance that those fantasies will come true. She should have known this would happen eventually, MI6 have already set aside a flat in London for her to live in once she fulfils her side of the bargain with Waverly, but that doesn't soften the blow at all.
She takes a bite of the risotto, she's sure it is supposed to be nice but unfortunately the taste is marred with iron from where her lip has started to bleed. She swallows thickly and forces herself to take another spoonful.
Author's Note: This fic will mostly follow the plot of the film. The biggest changes will be how Gaby and Illya interact, and there will also be several non-chronological flashbacks to the six months they spent together. Once the story is finished, I will put up another chapter will all the flashbacks (plus a few extra) in order. I have pre-written several chapters, and my planned update schedule will be twice a week on Tuesdays and Fridays until I either run out of completed chapters or finish the story. Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter (19th August): Gaby is introduced to Agent Kuryakin.