wildernesstales | MFU: December Drabbles

On mfuwss , they're prompting each day a word related to Christmas/winter. I'm posting in batches, so here are the next four days worth of drabbles. No slash in any of these, though there is an insinuation in Mittens. I have also noticed that my interpretations of some of the prompts tend to have little to do with Christmas...

5 – Mittens
Whatever Napoleon had been expecting to find in the small parcel his partner had given him for Christmas, it certainly hadn’t been the garishly colored woollen mittens he was now holding. What was wrong with his suede fur-lined ones?

The day after Napoleon unwrapped his present, he wore the mittens in to work, not wanting to hurt his partner’s feelings. His reward was the smile on Illya’s face as the Russian caught up with him outside HQ.
“You’re wearing them.”
“Yeah, it’s cold.”
“I made them.” Napoleon vowed there and then to wear them more often, regardless of the color.

6 – Icicle
They held their breath, their position far too easy to be observed if they moved too much. The icicles were undisturbed at the moment, but the tinkling they could hear did not fill them with confidence that they would stay that way.
Grateful for the labcoats they had ‘borrowed’ on their way out of the Thrush base, Illya huddled a little closer to Napoleon, keeping a wary eye on the icicles hanging from the eaves of the cottage they were hiding by. The snowdrift concealed them, aided by the labcoats, and as long as no icicles fell, they were safe.

7 – Eggnog
For a Russian used to drinking vodka, the fact that Illya was rather drunk amused Napoleon. Possibly far more than it should do. Supporting a staggering Illya, Napoleon headed for the bedroom, fully intent on putting him to bed and leaving. Yet, as he made Illya comfortable, he found he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to see the look on Illya’s face in the morning. A little vindictive perhaps, but the Russian had insinuated that he could drink Napoleon under the table.

Napoleon was wide awake by the time Illya emerged the next morning.
“What happened?” He groaned.
“Eggnog.”

8 – Boots
As a child, he’d learnt that you could tell a person’s status by the shoes they wore. The KGB wore pristine black smart shoes. His father wore shabby boots.

Napoleon wore smart black shoes. But Illya trusted him, unlike the KGB. Since moving to America, Illya had stopped wearing the boots he used to wear. First it had been those resembling his father’s. Then the boots the Russian Navy provided. Even at the Sorbonne, he’d still worn his boots, a memory of how his life used to be.
Now he would be wearing them again, this time for a mission.