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."
"Having been my fiancé, you should know what I like, wouldn't you say?" Gaby asked him, still staring at her menu.
Illya thought of Rome. All the intimate moments with his little chop shop girl in the secret confines of their room flooded him. He tried hard to swim through the savory pictures his mind took of Gaby to the little dinners they shared behind those same closed doors. The candlelight. The laughter. Eggplant. She really enjoyed eggplant. He told her, "Hünkar beğendi."
"Ah, 'the sultan like it.' So, Gaby likes eggplant." Waverly smiled and looked up, readjusting his glasses.
Gaby's eyes widened. It was true. Illya remembered her so well. She had another question, "And how would I order such such a meal?"
Illya replied, "You'll say, 'Hünkar beğendi, lütfen.'"
"Hünkar beğendi, lütfen. That's it? What is lütfen? I've heard that word a couple times today by you guys already." Gaby said, looking at the gentlemen unamused.
"It means 'please.'" Solo winked at the waitress.
The waitress blushed then asked, "Sipariş vermek için hazır mısınız?" Are you ready to order?
"Evet. Lahmacun, teşekkürler." Yes. Lahmajoun, thank you. Waverly smiled and handed off his menu.
"Turkish kebab benim için, sevgilim." Solo said suavely. He hoped he had said, "Turkish kebab for me, my darling.," but it was hard to say. He was certain he could figure it out from this waitress later, if needed.
The waitress turned to Illya, who in turn faced Gaby. He smirked so lightly, "Ladies first."
Gaby was a little shy to say it but decided to be confident about it. "Hünkar beğendi, lütfen." Gaby said with a small smile
The waitress just smiled and nodded. Gaby felt relieved.
Illya looked at the waitress, "İskender kebap, lütfen."
The waitress nodded her head with a smile and walked away. Directly afterwards, a man in an apron came up to the table with a basket of freshly baked bread. He simply said, "Ekmek." then nodded and walked off.
"Gaby, you must try this."Illya told her, cutting up the bread and setting it on her little appetizer plate. He grabbed a piece for himself and let the other two fend for themselves. He poured olive oil and herbs into a plate and motioned her to dip her bread. He watched as she closed her eyes and savored the flavors. He thought it odd that he felt such happiness watching her eat a piece of bread.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Peril. Don't at all feel like a third or fourth wheel. Waverly, would you like some bread?" Solo asked.
"I'd love some, Solo, thank you." Waverly replied.
When they had finished with dinner, the crew stepped outside as they waited for Solo to quit flirting.
Gaby saw a little cart and headed towards it. She thought it was chocolate and felt a sliver of excitement. She was ready for a sweet dessert after having such an incredible dinner. She stopped about three feet out. Were those... nuts?
Illya followed Gaby. She was running towards a cart. He knew what she was wanting and laughed. In Germany, there were food trucks with cakes and chocolates or even brats. She looked so disappointed. He said, "mein Schatz, das sind geröstete Kastanien." My darling, those are roasted chestnuts.
"And that makes it funny?" Gaby asked in an annoyed huff, crossing her arms and popping out her leg.
Illya couldn't stop laughing. He caressed her cheek for only a second so she couldn't slap it away and rushed off.
Before Gaby could yell at Illya and slap that smug face, Waverly stepped up and paid the vendor. He grabbed two and handed one to Gaby saying, "You should try it anyway, Gaby. It's excellent."
Gaby looked down at the chestnut. She knew she should try it. Waverly had bought them just for that purpose, but she was still disappointed that it wasn't chocolate. Nuts weren't sweet. She bit into half the chestnut. She looked at Waverly. It was surprisingly good.
"I thought you'd like it." Waverly winked.
Gaby saw Illya waking back towards. She gave him a defiant look and said, "And where have you been?"
Illya said nothing but opened the bag he held, unwrapping a pastry. He held it up to her mouth. "Here, Gaby, you must try this."
Gaby didn't change her stare. She still wanted to slap him. She took a bite of the baklava. She was impressed. "Wow, Illya! This is amazing. What is it called?"
Illya knew this would make his moody woman happy. He informed her, "This is baklava. It's incredible Turkish dessert but is not eaten often."
"Why is that? Because it's so sweet?" Gaby asked.
"It is because baklava is made with seven pounds of butter, more or less." Illya watched as Gaby's eyes widened. He figured she'd be content with just one piece for tonight. He held out another piece. "Waverly, this is for you."
"Thank you, Kuryakin. I'll remember this when Solo tries to sweet talk me into something about you." Waverly winked.
Illya turned back to Gaby, "Because you are craving chocolate, I got another Turkish treat for you. This is Damak. It is milk chocolate and pistachios."
Gaby opened the package and broke off a piece. Finally, chocolate. And more nuts. She stifled a chuckle and rolled her eyes. Gaby groaned, "The desserts are... I'm spoiled on them already."
Illya winked at her then handed her one more item, ornately wrapped. "Open it."
Gaby tore it open and the package said, "Turkish Delights." She took his hand and squeezed it whispering a thank you and giving him a look that showed she would give him more appreciation later.
Illya's eyes darkened for a moment.
Waverly coughed, "Well, Gaby. Welcome to Taksim. We'll just take a cab back. Something tells me Solo won't be coming home tonight."