Illya sighed before wiping his brow with his handkerchief.

"Napoleon this heat is oppressive. How are you not perspiring? And why do you not have a single hair out of place!"

Kuryakin's damp blond hair spiked in every direction as he ran his fingers through it.

Napoleon smiled, "Illya be right back."

He disappeared around the corner and came back with two Italian ices….lemon for himself and blueberry for his partner.

"This is quite nice." The Russian devoured the cold confection with great enthusiasm.

Napoleon couldn't help but snicker. "Illya, whatever you do, don't stick out your tongue."

"Why…?"