Gallya Shorts

Roasted Chestnuts

Taksim was such a beautifully intricate place. It was unlike most of Istanbul. It was hard to get lost, because it was a curving line with little souvenir stores, bakeries, delis, hole in the wall restaurants but complete with homemade food, and a few historical landmarks. Unfortunately, it was missing the trams that made the entire experience a little more fun.

Illya Kuryakin had been here a few times as a child with his parents. He and Gaby Teller were once again fated to share a room, which had been no problem for them. In an odd way, they had become very trusting of each other in their first mission. This time they had opened up about their childhoods. When Gaby had heard that his family had vacationed here, she requested a view of the sights from his perspective. She thought he could see what was the same and what was different. That had been a couple weeks ago. Today, he decided to surprise her.

As they were waiting for the taxi, Illya blindfolded Gaby. He guided her to the back seat when the taxi arrived. The driver was an elderly man who's eyes widened at the sight of Gaby. He gave a small smile and said, "Taksim, lütfen. Bu bir sürpriz için eşim." Taksim, please. It's a surprise for my wife. He knew Turkey was a very traditional country. They had come out of the same apartment, and one could only be attained by a couple if they were married.

Before Illya was even able to shut the door, Napoleon Solo squeezed into the left side and Alexander Waverly to the front passenger seat.

Solo asked, "So, where are we going?"

Gaby sighed loudly, and let go of Illya's hand to rip off her blindfold. She stared daggers at the two men and asked Illya, "What. Are. They doing here?"

"We saw you blindfolded, and it looked too exciting not to join." Solo replied with a wink.

Illya threatened Solo and Waverly, "Get. Out. Before I throw you out."

"As your commanding officer, that would be a negatory, Kuryakin." Waverly smiled. "Driver, proceed, lütfen."

Now, here they were, standing in front of Taksim, enjoying the view. Solo interrupted the silence, "So, now what's the master plan?"

"We eat dinner." Illya waited for Gaby to grab his arm, and they started off.

Gaby was in amazement of it all. She paused to watch different pastries being made before her eyes. When each batch finished, it was added to a pile forming some sort of geometric shape.

Illya looked around then guided Gaby inside a little restaurant. He told the waitress four, and they were seated immediately. He growled at Solo's attempt at getting the waitress's number. Obviously the American had nothing better to do, but Illya was already angry at him for ruining his evening with Gaby.

"I was worried you would pick out a dump, Peril, but there's still beautiful women here and the aroma is delightful. How did you know of this place?" Solo asked.

"I came to Taksim when I was boy with my parents. We ate here, and I never forgot restaurant." His face was stoic, but everyone knew him enough now that it was obvious there was a small softness in his voice from remembering his parents in the way it used to be.

Gaby decided to change the subject to ease the mind of her tall Russian bear. She huffed, "I don't understand any of these words on the menu."

"I'm sure I could get our darling waitress back and ask her for some suggestions." Solo winked.

"Hmm, something tells me I wasn't asking for your or her opinion." Gaby scoffed.

Illya inwardly laughed. He turned his head toward his menu and said, "What would you like, and I will find closest thing to it."