Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Twilight has been a spy for a decade. All this time, he’s only known how to work, which consists of going undercover, manipulations, information gathering, and occasionally engaging in battle. In all those missions, Twilight didn't need any emotions, let alone attachments. 

His latest mission, Operation Strix, has forced him to start utilizing them, despite his reservations. Maybe the internal conflict is the reason he’s so exhausted as of late. 

Emotions and attachments involve the secretion of unnecessary hormones by the brain, affecting all the organs in the human body. It makes him worry over trivial things, such as what to cook for tomorrow's breakfast, would the family love the idea of an outing, would the kid be able to befriend the target's son, would the mother loved the new cleaning kits, would the dog be freed from lice using the new shampoo, etcetera.

Twilight takes a deep breath as he shifts through the kitchen drawers, cupboards, and even chillers of those who are suspected of playing a part in a drug-dealing circle. For the day's extra mission, he has disguised himself as a comish, a job that reminds him of when he was still in the army.

A slab of something in the fridge suddenly catches the spy's eyes. Judging by the color and consistency, it’s a high-quality tuna.  

"Hmm…I think it's about time I introduce Anya to fresh seafood ingredients. She will need extra proteins and iron as she ages." 

The blond man continues his search meticulously, pretending he is trying to adapt to his new workstation, and stops near the sink. 

"Oh? I’ve never seen this cleaning chemical before. It looks like it could clean even the dirtiest dishes. Yor is going to love this."

Glancing at the clock hanging on the wall, Loid calculates that he could still make a detour to the nearest supermarket to buy groceries and extras before returning to the apartment. 

.

Thorn Princess has been an effective killing machine since before she hit puberty. She diligently practiced every training over and over again until she had honed almost all the skills needed to spare her targets from pain when she had to take their lives, simultaneously teaching her to avoid or endure any possible injuries that could result from her  job. 

After all, the very reason she took this job was to provide a carefree life for Yuri. It wouldn't do if all the money she made failed to bring a smile to Yuri's face because he had to worry over her. 

That’s why she’s always motivated to leave her missions spotless, leave no witness that could endanger her family, and do it with little to no injury. Should she receive any minor injuries, she endures it with a smile on her face, so that people around her don’t need to worry. She had always managed to endure it before, and she would manage to do it now. 

Sure, the Forgers are a bit different from Yuri. Sometimes Anya asks a question a bit too close to the truth of her job, Loid states his observations of her with a bit too much detail, and Bond sniffs her as if he is able to recognize the smell of blood. 

But they have accepted her for who she is, and her life has never been happier. That is why she makes sure she can give them something in return and always looks forward to immediately returning to the apartment after each job. 

As she finishes cleaning the warehouse, a base for human traffickers, something catches her eye; a pristine suit hanging in a cupboard that might belong to one of the ring leaders. 

"Ah! I have to pick up Loid's suit from the laundry, and on the way I can also buy the special peanut cake from the bakery that Anya has been wanting for weeks!" 

She then returns to work and doesn’t waste any more time daydreaming. 

.

"I'm home!" Yor calls out as she walks into the apartment. 

"Mama, mama, look!! Anya made a pah-pper-craft today!" The pink-haired girl proudly shows her creation. 

"Oooh!!! This is beautiful, Anya! Amazing job!" Yor lifts the bag in her hand, "A perfect reason to celebrate with a special peanut cake!"

"Whooaaaahhh!! Gimme!! Gimme!!" 

Big, round green eyes full of excitement make Yor giggle with glee.

"Anya, at least let Yor take off her coat first." 

Loid turns off the stove and approaches her, taking the paper bag from her hands before turning back towards the kitchen, most likely to serve the cakes. 

"I also bought a coffee dessert for you." 

“Oh? Thank you!” comes Loid’s reply amidst the clinging of plates.

A nudge at her leg makes her look down. She chuckles at the pleading eyes of their faithful hound. She pats the dog's head and whispers, “Don’t worry, Bond. I’ll add your favorite snack after dinner.” 

Bond responds by wagging his tail faster.

She looks to Anya and puts her index finger up to her mouth, and Anya clamps her hand over her own mouth in response, a silent promise to keep their little secret. 

She smiles and turns her attention briefly towards her husband, as she hangs his suit on a  hanger, pointing to the lapels.

"They also did a great job in removing the stainings here." 

"Oh?" Loid curiously approaches his suit. "They really did! Amazing. I thought this suit was ruined for good."

"Told you I know the best laundry in town." Yor grins at him. 

She is actually the one who cleaned his suit using one of her special cleaning tools, before dropping the suit at the laundry. Now that she owns different colors of clothes (not just black and red) at Loid’s behest, she’s learned a method to remove any blood stains from any kind of fabric. Wine stains are nowhere near as difficult to clean as blood, after all. But of course, she will never tell her husband that.

"Mind if I have the address of the laundry, so I can go there myself if I ever need it?" 

Yor flinches. "You can just leave it to me." 

"I can't always bother you for this kind of mundane thing."

"It’s not a problem at all. It's the least I can do. Besides…I get a special discount if I go there myself."

Loid raises his brow. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Yor pushes her facial muscles to form a grin, hoping that Loid will believe her. 

He sighs and smiles sheepishly. "Okay then. I'll leave it to you. Doesn't mean that I'll be sloppy next time." 

Yor can finally relax and return the smile for real. 

"Papa and Mama are gonna kiss?"

"We're not!" 

Their daughter just raises her brows with a smug face Yor didn’t know she was capable of making.

When did she learn to do that?

A waft of something nice makes Yor sniff. A perfect chance to change the topic. "What's for dinner?"

Loid's face brightens immediately. "A simple Steckerlfisch with mashed potato and salad."

"Eeewww, Papa…" Anya visibly grimaces at the mention of fish as their dinner.

"You need your proteins, young miss." He speaks sternly to his daughter. "Besides, fish are one of Ostania's best products." 

"But fishes are yucky..," Anya whines, pouting. 

Yor intercepts. "Are you sure? Don't these smell delicious?" She kneels down to whisper in her daughter's ear. "And if you finish your meal, I'll give you my share of peanut cake."

The change in Anya's face is astounding as her pout turns to a grin. "Let's eat dinner, Papa. I'm starved!" 

Yor chuckles. Bribery is not a good thing, but if it’s to spoil her family, sometimes (many times) Yor does it anyway. 

She looks to her husband for approval, who can only sigh in defeat before turning to prepare their meal.

. 

It’s a bit astounding for Loid, but seeing the satisfied faces, especially from his daughter, when they gulp down his new creation, feels …nice. Moments like this remind him of one of his rare passions incidentally discovered during a previous mission, which is cooking. 

He makes a mental note of the ingredients he used that night, to recreate some other time.

I could probably add more types of seafood, as long as Anya doesn’t have any allergies. He ponders absentmindedly as he brings their dirty dishes to the sink. 

He notices how hard Yor is scrubbing the mesh that he’d used to grill the fish. Seeing the amount of force she needs to use to remove the stains, Loid immediately grabs the cleaner he bought earlier. "Hey, look what I found."

"What's this?" 

"New type of cleaner. Apparently it’s meant to clean cooking utensils faster."

He sees the bright face of his wife and can feel himself smiling in turn.

"Woah?! Really? I guess this is the perfect time to try it!!" 

"Yup. Oh, but always use these rubber gloves. Stronger chemicals might cause harm to your hands."

"Always so thoughtful. Thank you."

Loid shouldn't feel the swell of pride blooming in his chest.

.

Loid hangs his favorite suit on the door of his armoire. He squints, and is again amazed that the blood stains are truly gone, while the color of the suit remains pristine. He had seriously thought that his favorite suit was gone for good. 

He clicks his tongue. It would be much easier for him if he could just go to the laundry himself. It would only be a matter of time until Yor became suspicious if his suit had a 'wine stain' over and over again. He needs to be more careful during future missions. 

The man stretches his stiff shoulder, before sitting in front of his desk. His desk clock shows it is 11 PM, meaning he has more than enough time to write his reports.

Yor's chamomile tea always manages to relax him and clear his mind. While for other people it might help them sleep, which he is sure was the exact reason his wife chose the tea to brew as their midnight tea in the first place, it works a bit differently in Loid's case. Still, he appreciates the gesture, as he always does.

Spies never have the luxury of routine. He is one of those lucky ones to get a mission that provides him with one. So he better make full use of it and finish his reports.

Chapter Text

Throughout his career as a spy, Loid has never felt as much stress as he does now. Aside from being a slow-moving, long-lasting operation that needs constant maintenance, Operation Strix forces him to involve other people (innocent civilians no less!!), pulling him out of the shadows and exposing him to the public eye. These variables are often out of his control. 

But he is considered the best for a reason. And one of his fortes is using his environment and adapting to any situation. 

"Flower festival?" 

Loid raises his brow when he receives the flier from one of the doctors. 

"Yeah. The annual event." The red-haired doctor tilts his head in confusion. "Don't tell me you forgot about the biggest annual event in Berlint, Dr. Forger."

Loid sheepishly replies, "No, of course not. It's just….. it's already that time of the year, huh?" 

His colleague laughs. "Geez, you always work so hard, eh? Don't your family ever complain about you never being home?"

"Uhh…. Well….."

He prods, "You lucky bastard. I would never hear the end of it if I didn’t find spare time to bring my wife. She would say 'It’s open for a week! Can't you spare even one day for your family? What would the neighbors say?! Or are you going with someone else, huh??!'" 

Loid chuckles at the high-pitched voice the doctor uses to mimic his angry wife. 

"I don't know why girls are so fond of this event. Flowers are just flowers. Why don't you just buy it at the florist and be done with it?" The doctor sighs.

For some unknown reason, his mind suddenly wanders to his wife and her fondness for flowers. Yor has never mentioned it, but Loid notices her change in demeanor whenever she has an opportunity to talk about flowers and their meanings. To himself, or to Anya. 

And if he remembers correctly, it’s been months since the last time he bought her flowers too. 

He frowns. That carelessness could have dire consequences. 

What if Yor is actually upset about his negligence in noticing one of her likes, but had chosen not to say anything? She has a tendency of keeping things to herself, after all. What if it had made her so upset that she would suddenly pack her belongings and leave him? What should he do if-......

His train of thought is stopped when he hears his colleague continue talking; "But having a day out for once is good for us, I guess." He then whispers and wiggles his brow mischievously, "Besides, you can also look at other gorgeous women that visit the place for a change."

Loid splutters, "Ex- … Excuse me?"

His colleague guffaws and slaps his shoulder. "Oh right! You don't need to see other women ‘cause your wife is so gorgeous already." 

On instinct, Loid furrows his brow and glares at him, which is apparently enough to make the man flinch and lift both hands. "Whoa! Easy there. Despite all her quirks, I love my wife." Then he whispers, "Though as your friend, I have to warn you. If you keep neglecting such a beautiful woman, I'm sure there are men out there who wouldn't be so subtle in offering their assistance in your absence. So you better be careful!" 

See? Even his colleague notices his negligence. 

This is bad. Really bad.

Loid nods firmly, "I see. Thank you for the warning." 

His colleague blinks, and then starts to laugh again, "Geez Forger!! You don’t have to treat jokes that seriously!! I think you really need this outing, huh?" 

The blond spy blinks and scolds himself for slipping out of character for a moment there. He then lets out a nervous laugh as he replies, "I guess I do."

.

And that is why on one bright day, Loid finds himself holding Anya with one hand and firmly holding Yor's hand in the other. 

Out of all 478 plans he had prepared, he hadn’t anticipated the large volume of visitors at the event. They really have to maneuver slowly in the sea of people, who are walking in all different directions. Loid will not take a chance on losing one of his family members in the chaos. 

"Papa….. it’s so hooooottt……." Anya whines and wipes her sweaty brow dramatically. 

"Oof… pardon me." Yor squeaks beside him as she bumps shoulders with other visitors while trying to keep a steady hold on their picnic basket.

It’s a good thing that Loid had steeled himself that morning against the barrage of begging to bring Bond to the event from his daughter and wife, and even the dog himself. Even though it stings a little, leaving Bond at home and planning another trip with him is the best decision. The poor dog would suffer at this place. 

Loid's brow furrows deeper when he hears Anya’s stomach grumble. They need to get to their picnic spot A.S.A.P. 

.

After walking around the place for nearly an hour, they finally give up on the idea of a picnic in the middle of the flower festival, and end up at the nearest park outside, somehow managing to snatch the last open spot available.

Yor is honestly relieved when they finally manage to settle down in one spot, and she quickly starts unpacking their lunch. 

She’s noticed how uncomfortable Anya becomes in the middle of a crowd. The poor kid had sweat profusely and had been clutching at her father's collar tightly. At the same time, Loid had been scowling more and more, while keeping his eyes peeled for a spot. As a perfectionist, Yor understands that Loid must've prepared the best plan for the day. And not being able to fulfill a plan always sours the man's mood. 

She opts to start by pouring the cool beverages and giving them to her family to drink before preparing their lunch.

"Puwaaaahhh……. This feels awesome!!" Anya chimes after finishing the whole glass of cold orange juice, lying down on their picnic cloth, spreading her arms and legs.

Yor chuckles while she serves their sandwiches on paper plates. "Nothing beats cool beverages on a hot day, right?" 

Then she heard her husband grumbling under his breath. "I can't believe we didn't manage to get a good spot. I should've come at dawn to…."

"But this spot is also wonderful, Loid." Yor cuts him off. She won’t let her husband beat himself up too much for things that are out of his control.  "You can actually view the rows of flowers that have been arranged to create mosaic pictures."

She then gestures to the view before them, "The arrangement over there should be our flag, while in the middle is the map, and…."

"Oh!!! Mama is right!! So coooll!" Anya stands up excitedly. 

"Right? We couldn’t appreciate the arrangement if we were seated in the middle of the festival itself."

Her husband slumps his shoulders in defeat, "That's true. But I thought you'd like to introduce different types of flowers from around the world to Anya."

Yor's eyes widen in surprise. 

How did he know?

"I'm so sorry, Yor. I should've….."

She smiles and touches his hand in reassurance. “I am already overjoyed that you had the time to take us here, despite your busy schedule. So, please, don’t beat yourself up for things you couldn’t have possibly known would happen.”

“Besides,” she gestures around her, “This park also has so many flowers that aren’t commonly found at our neighborhood park.”

“Reabbyy???!!!” 

An excited voice chimes beside her, making Yor turn her attention toward their daughter. She giggles when she sees that Anya’s mouth is already full of sandwich, its sauces smeared around her little mouth.

“I will tell you all about it, as soon as we finish our lunch!” She gently cleans the girl’s face with a napkin.

Then she offers a sandwich to her husband, who finally looks relieved, and then starts digging in herself.

Today will be a very fun outing, where she is finally able to visit the annual event with her family (a fake one, but still she wasn’t coming to the place alone!!) and Yor decides to make the best experience out of it.

.

Loid watches in amazement while Anya drags Yor around the park to ask about the flowers around them. And Yor patiently explains the information to her in simple words. Whether the kid will retain the information or not, Loid bet on the latter. But the most important thing is that their bright smiles are a constant sight for the day. It assures him that Operation Strix’s maintenance is a success, but the extra warmth he feels in his chest might indicate a different matter. He decides to put those thoughts aside for the time being though. 

“Oh!! Look!! These flowers are tiny and cute!!” Anya crouches to look at the flowers at the side of the park’s path.

Yor trails over to crouch beside her and starts to explain, “These are called snowdrops. They are named as such because they always are the first to bloom after a chilly winter. That is also why they represent hope, innocence, and purity.”

The little girl’s eyes shine and her mouth shapes an ‘o’ before she runs to the rose bushes. “Anya knows this one!! They are roses!!”

Yor smiles brightly, “That is correct, Anya!! You’re so smart! AH!” the mother stops her daughter’s arm from touching the flowers, “Careful, they have thorns.”

“Tor… thro…”

“Thorns, Anya.” Loid corrects her before he carefully moves the petals to the side, and points to the spikes at the stems. “These spiky things over here. If you aren’t careful, it might hurt your hands.”

The child is astounded and hugs her mother’s leg, “But why do such beautiful flowers want to hurt Anya?”

Yor chuckles and caresses her daughter’s head lovingly, “No, dear. They don’t want to hurt anybody. They just want to protect themselves from animals so they can bloom. Bloomed roses in some cultures symbolize enlightenment.”

“En…. en-lait…”

“Enlightenment. That is when someone finally knows their goal in life. And the thorns represent the effort needed to achieve that goal.” Yor continues while looking tenderly at the roses.

Loid thinks that maybe the flowers have special meanings to her when his daughter suddenly chimes, “Just like Mama?”

He curiously looks at Yor waiting for confirmation. He isn’t expecting to see her eyes widen in surprise and her mouth opening slightly, clearly showing that the innocent question has sucker-punched a sensitive spot. He feels his stomach churn.

“Anya!!” Loid scolds, and immediately turns to his wife. “Yor… I’m sorry… you don’t have to-...”

She snaps awake from her shock, and shakes her head, “No. It’s okay, Loid. I was just……” She takes a deep breath, “I was just surprised. My father did call me his rose.” 

Yor then caresses the petals of the roses, “My mother was a florist. My father learned about flowers after they married and shared the same passion. He would always refer to us as flowers in his garden. I was the rose, Yuri was the carnation.” 

“He said that I was beautiful and strong, that I would use my strong thorns to protect the family. While Yuri…." She points to the group of flowers at their left. "Carnations often symbolize purity and luck. They are also used in tea to reduce stress and restore energy. During our darkest time, I felt content and refreshed after a long day of work if I looked at his smile. So I guess my parents were right. He is the carnation.”

Pointing at the flowers at the edge of the park, Yor continues, “My parents referred to themselves as the snapdragon. They are strong, able to live even in rocks, and often symbolize internal strength to overcome difficulties with grace. That is so fitting for them. I feel that they still grace us with their strength, even now.”

Loid notices how she gazes forlornly at the snapdragon bushes while reminiscing. He rubs a comforting circle on her shoulders, which makes her shake her head and let out a shaky breath, “Oh, dear! I’m so sorry! That must be such a boring story.”

“Nonsense, Yor. That is the most beautiful story I’ve ever heard. I’m…Anya and I are honored that you would share a story about your family with us.” He smiles. 

She smiles in return until Anya shakes her leg, “Then what flower is Anya?”

“Well, obviously you’re my little snowdrop.” She crouches and points to the white flowers near the park’s path they had approached before. “Pure, innocent, and full of hope.” 

Anya gasps with glee before pointing at him. “How about Papa?”  

For an unknown reason, Loid feels a pang of sadness. He had thrown away his identity. He has no family. He has no name. How can a shadow who has deceived, manipulated, and even killed people be represented by something as warm and innocent as flowers?

Loid chuckles, “I don’t think there are flowers that can represent me, Anya.” 

“Oh but I think there are!” His wife chimes cheerfully. 

Loid’s eyes focus back on his wife, who tilts her head and smirks. “Really? And what might they be?”

“They don’t grow around here, but I think orchids fit you very well.” She tells him proudly.

“Why orchids?” Loid is now genuinely curious. He, of course, knows orchids. A rare type of flower that usually grows in tropical areas. 

“Because you are elegant. And everything you do is to be revered. Working to the bone for the good of others without expecting anything in return? That’s really amazing, Loid.”

His eyes widen in surprise. Loid is sure that Yor is referring to his cover jobs as a doctor, but a part of him feels that she is approving of his spy work instead. That somehow, Yor knows and understands all the sacrifices he has made for a better world. And she will support whatever choices he makes.

He is genuinely amazed by her ability to soothe his tired soul. 

And he finds himself cracking a rare genuine smile when he replies, “Orchid it is. Thank you, Yor.”

“You're welcome.”

Their moment is cut short as Anya pulls her mother to another corner of the park, and eagerly continues her adventure, while Loid casually follows them.

Who knew this outing could have such positive results. Loid will make sure they visit the event again next year. 

With better preparations, of course.

Chapter Text

Yor looks in the mirror while trying on some of her old dresses. It seems that several of her "working dresses'' need to be modified, as these dresses are often used as everyday dresses too. Either for her to go on a date with Loid, or to City Hall events, however rare the occasion is. 

"Hmm…. I need to ask Monicca to modify the chest part so people won't be able to see the scar," she muses while absentmindedly tracing the long diagonal scar acquired from her work during the cruise. 

Garden special remedies usually work wonders in making wounds heal perfectly; they, at most, leave only very faint scars, unnoticeable for common people. Unfortunately, this time, the medication has failed her. Or maybe she just needs to give it more time to heal. 

For some reason, her mind wanders, wondering about Loid's reaction if he were to see these ugly scars that donn her body.

"To a warrior, scars are a badge of honor." She remembers he once said that to Anya after he fixed her agent Penguinman.

Oh, he wouldn't mind it, I guess….. 

Wait, what?! Why are you thinking like that, Yor?! That's so lewd!!  

She blushes, shaking her head to erase such thoughts from her mind.

She then sighs as she applies the herb salve onto the scar, and puts on her usual red sweater. After folding the dresses and putting them inside a bag to be brought to the tailor the next day, she then exits her room to start her daily routine around the apartment before Anya comes home from school.

.

Twilight drags his feet throughout his long walk home from work. He grumbles under his breath at how ruthless Handler can be. 

Three back-to-back extra missions to be done in a day? Good grief!

Thankfully, there are only a couple more steps to his front door.

His hand stops mere inches from touching the knob of the door. 

Wait, isn't this just another mission?

His shoulder sags upon the realization, but he has no choice other than to put on the Loid Forger mask. 

Opening the door to his apartment, Loid is greeted by its resident. 

"I'm home…"

“Welcome home, Loid.” He sees his wife's smile and the smile he returns feels less like a mask than he would prefer, no matter what his logical brain tries to say. 

He does not have time to ruminate on it as Anya comes barrelling towards him.

"Papaaaaa!!!! Look at the result of my tests!!" Anya proudly shows off several papers with marks ranging from 35-41 points, with big red "D" written on them.

He deadpans, "It's still below average."

"Shock!!" Anya stiffens. 

"But it is still an improvement from F, Loid!" Yor can be heard defending the daughter. 

Her words suddenly make a flash of a long-forgotten memory of him resurface. He frowns at those unwanted memories. 

No. I will not become like him. It….. it won't help with the mission.  

He changes his facial expression and ruffles Anya's hair, "Well, I guess Yor is right. It is indeed an improvement. How 'bout hamburg steak for a reward?"

Anya's face brightens almost immediately as she throws her arms upward, and it warms his heart even more. "Yasss!!!"

"After that, we continue with your homework." 

"Shock!!" 

The opportunity to elicit such abrupt changes in his daughter's face is just too good to pass up. Loid is astounded at how easy it is for him to tease her, and how by doing so he manages to ease his weariness.

He doesn't think about the reasons too much, as this kind of thinking is most probably just a result of his exhausted mind. After enough rest, everything will return to order. 

But of course, before he can have his rest, he needs to fulfill his promise of hamburg steak.

The man then immediately enters the bathroom to take a shower. 

.

Sighing in contentment after feeling the hot water rub away all of his soreness for the day, Loid then steps out of the bathtub.

He blinks and looks around, searching for a very important piece of cloth that should be in reach.

He groans when he finds no towel nearby.

How could I forget to bring it inside?  

Wet from head to toe, he needs to find a way to snatch the towel from his room. 

Sure, he can always ask Yor to get it for him, but he doesn't want her to enter his room, as he’s afraid of her finding things she shouldn't see. 

Or he can always ask to borrow hers for a while. But then, for some unknown reason, he is too embarrassed to do it. And Anya's towel is way too small for him. 

Tapping his finger impatiently at their sink, he decides to choose the riskiest approach. 

Putting on his used black pants once again, Loid then silently opens the bathroom door. Peeking outside he can partially see Anya's jumping frame, followed by the barking of Bond. They are most likely engrossed in the newest episode of Spy Wars. 

He cannot see where Yor is sitting, due to her usual spot being blocked by the hallway, but he can safely assume that she is either accompanying their daughter or preparing the ingredients needed to make hamburg steak. 

Nodding to himself, Loid counts to three in his head, then he yanks open the bathroom door, and darts to his room.

Or so was the plan.

At the same time he pushes his leg to make a dash into his room, Yor comes out of her room. And his slippery wet feet don’t have enough traction to stop abruptly, making both of them collide and tumble down. 

"Oof!"

"Ouch!"

Out of reflex, Loid's hand curls around Yor's head in order to prevent it from slamming hard to the floor, while his other hand gets ready to block his fall. 

Controlling his racing heartbeat, he immediately checks his wife.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay, Yor?" 

He immediately searches for any sign of injury or discomfort, by looking at her face, and notices several things at once. 

The blushing on her fair plump cheek. The long lashes moving along as she blinks. The dark silky hair fanned out to frame her face. The water drips from him on and around her as she stares back at him, mesmerized and mesmerizing.

And then, Loid just realizes that her palm is resting on his chest and how her nails dig a bit into his skin. 

His heart skips a beat.

Oh God. She's beautiful…….

"Lo…. Loid……??" He hears her anxious whispers as his eyes draw to her lips. 

"Papa and Mama are gonna kiss!!" Anya suddenly yells in excitement. 

They gasp when snapping out of their trance and yell, "We're not!!" 

Loid immediately scrambles up from his position, runs for his dear life to his room, and slams the door closed. 

Leaning on the inside of his door, he breathes hard as he tries to control the hammering of his heart inside his ribcage. 

What the hell was that, Twilight???!!

How on earth can such improper thinking pop up in his mind? 

That kind of mishap is unacceptable. 

Yor is an important personnel involved in Operation Strix. Their arrangement is built upon mutual interest, and he needs to keep it like that. He should never step out of his boundaries. He cannot make her feel uncomfortable, which would potentially make her fed up with him, cutting off their agreement, and she would decide to leave. 

It really could jeopardize his most important mission, where he has currently made so little progress as is.

He groans and wipes his face in frustration. 

I need to get a grip on myself.

.

Loid had apologized profusely to her for their little accident, and Yor had easily told him that it was no problem at all. 

The Forgers then had their dinner and it went very well, as usual. Sure, the steak was a bit burned at the edges, the sauce might be a little bit saltier than usual (but still very delicious!), and Anya's face has been smirking a little bit too long (when did she learn to do that?). After that Loid had been helping Anya with homework, and then came the kid’s bedtime.

All in all, their evening activities have happened like usual. Except the part where Loid has been avoiding Yor’s eyes and has been keeping a slight distance from her. 

While waiting for the water in the kettle to boil, Yor’s mind mulls it over. 

Could it be that Loid still feels bad?

Truth be told, it is not the first time Yor has seen him topless. But it is the first time she sees him topless that close.

When supporting him so that he wouldn't collide with the hard floor, Yor could feel how firm his muscles are, indicating that Loid must be doing a routine workout to keep in shape. A very logical thing to do, considering he has to take care of violent patients on a daily basis. So it’s not his muscles that she might have been staring at for too long. 

It’s the scars. 

Lots of them.

Several are small and almost invisible for untrained eyes, but several others are jarringly huge with jagged edges. 

Oh no, did I stare too long and make him upset somehow? A realization hits her. 

However, Yor can't help but notice that there is one scar on his upper chest that is still reddish. Freshly healed injury that is most likely a result of a knife wound.

Come to think of it, the place of the injury is suspiciously consistent with the wine stains on his suit she’d had to clean several days ago.

Oh no, was he injured back then? Did he decide to keep it himself to not make me worry?

Now that she’s thinking about it, Loid does look like he is way more tired as of late.

Does he need to tend to a well-trained patient lately?

Or maybe he is being stalked?

What if his patients hurt him even outside of work? Just like what happened during our first meeting?

Or maybe he has to do another dangerous job to keep the family well-fed?

All of the what-ifs make Yor's head spin.

A click of Anya's room door forces the Forger matriarch to return to earth and look at her husband.

She notices how he trudges when walking towards his usual spot at the head of the sofa, for their routine midnight tea. 

Yor nods with determination.

Bringing their tea set on a tray, and sitting in her usual spot on the sofa, she then arranges their cups and fills the filters with tea leaves. Pouring the hot water until all the leaves are submerged, she waits for three minutes before taking them out, and slides the tea to him. 

He must've smelled the scent when he curiously asks, "Hmm? A new type of tea?" 

"Carnation tea," Yor answers him. 

When she sees that Loid finally looks into her eyes and smiles his gratitude, the woman gathers her courage and spills the beans. "Loid, I can't help but notice that you seem so tired and stressed out. I hope this tea will help, but maybe there is something else I can help with?"

He stops mid-sip. “Nothing out of the ordinary actually. Why?”

Yor fiddles with her fingers. “We-... well….. Just now, I saw that healing scar. Could it be that you’ve been recently injured, Loid? Maybe I can-....” She sees Loid flinch at that, and she backpedals. “Sorry! I don’t mean to pry, but…..”

“I’m sorry to make you worry, Yor.” His even steady voice makes her stop ranting.

Her husband then puts down the cup and looks directly into her eyes. “I’m perfectly alright. Maybe my schedule has been packed as of late, but I still can manage. As for the injury, I might have been a bit clumsy one day that I bumped into the front door of the hospital, but nothing of concern.”

Yor tries to search his eyes, and he softens them. “Considering our…agreement, you’ve done much more than you should. For me. For this family. I can never thank you enough for that. And I don’t want to burden you even further. So please, just relax. If it can put your mind at ease, I promise to fix my schedule.”

She just nods and sips her tea. Yor can’t help but feel a pang in her heart when she has to be reminded that she is indeed not in a position to inquire further. Because no matter how much she loves them, their arrangement is a fake one. So even though Loid’s condition concerns her, she may not push it further if Loid doesn’t want to tell her the full story. She has to respect their boundaries.

“Thank you so much for this wonderful tea. I feel refreshed already.” She returns her focus to her husband when he stands up, “But maybe it’s better for me to rest early today. So, see you tomorrow?”

Yor pushes her facial muscle to form a smile, “Of course. Rest well, Loid. See you tomorrow.”

She stares at his retreating figures for a moment, before sighing and cleaning the dishes.

.

Lying on his bed, Loid’s mind races.

That was too close, Twilight.

His mishaps have turned out to have a dangerous outcome. He knows that Yor can be slow at times, but she also can be unpredictably on point in her observation. Of course Yor would notice his exhausted state, his absence from doing home chores, and more importantly, his scars.

What if Yor manages to put two and two together and at a certain point she suspects that he is a spy? That would force him to cut ties with her, or even worse, he would have to eliminate her. Both options are out of the question, as he will not accept any other individual to play a part in Operation Strix. 

Yes. That is the only reason for his anxiety. 

He has worked far too hard to make this fake family work. He has yet to harvest the fruit of his labor. 

Loid curses at his sloppiness. He has to tell Handler to stop shoving new side missions onto him, as he needs to prioritize Operation Strix. It needs more maintenance, pronto. He needs to find a way to ease Yor’s concern. Maybe it’s time for another date for them. 

Forming several rearrangements in his head, he concludes that he might be able to tackle several missions at once tomorrow, so that this weekend, he will be free. 

Satisfied, the man then decides to go to sleep early and leave his reports to be done early in the morning. 

.

After cleaning their dishes, Yor takes a bag to put Loid’s dirty suit inside. She can drop it at the laundry the next day, after dropping her own dresses at the tailor. 

Blotches of dirt on the sleeves make Yor furrows her brow. She sniffs and to her surprise, it smells like gunpowder. 

Oh no. It looks like Loid does currently having a problem with a group of hysteria patients. Just like that time!

It’s no wonder that he’s been so tired as of late. Yor scolds herself for only noticing now.

She spares a glance towards her husband’s room door before entering her own.

After piling the laundry bag together with her own dress bag, she then opens her cupboard and starts to prepare the tools she might need for tomorrow’s appointment with her customers.

Yor will try her best to finish her appointment faster, so she can pick up Loid at the hospital and accompany him on the way home. She will also arrange her schedule for the days after so that she will always be able to walk with him for maybe two weeks until the patients recover and stop harassing her husband.  

There’s a possibility that Loid might be angry with her for meddling with his business, especially after he just reminded her about their arrangement. But if it's still within her power, she will do whatever she can to protect this family. These…new flowers in her garden. Just like how her parents had protected Yuri and herself.

She takes a deep breath as she absentmindedly traces the scar on her chest. For as long as she can remember, she has taken this job, and dirtied her hand with an incalculable amount of human blood, all so the people she holds dear can live a happy life. 

With a determined face, Yor then packs her trusted stilettos alongside her working dress. She will make sure Loid comes home safely by whatever means necessary. 

Chapter Text

The day had started as usual in the Forger household. Loid had prepared breakfast before the two girls woke up. They had eaten their breakfast and prepared for their respective tasks. 

Yor and Loid drop Anya at the bus station for her ride to school before parting ways for City Hall and Berlint Hospital, respectively.

Arriving at the hospital, Loid works to tackle several jobs at once, including several sessions for his patients, writing and signing several reports. After all of the paperwork is done, he hands it to Fiona.

"I think this should be all? I don't have any other appointments today, do I?" 

The purple-haired 'secretary' nods, "That should be all for today, Dr. Forger. You do have a half-day seminar to attend." 

Loid nods as he starts to pack his belongings. "I better get going then. Don't want to be late for the first session."

.

The “seminar” is actually his other mission that he has decided to finish today instead of tomorrow.

Twilight must infiltrate an infamous weapon smuggling ring. He is to retrieve information regarding a new type of weapon they had managed to get their hands on, their delivery schedule, and their customer. This weapon is said to be able to kill the target slowly without leaving traces. A very dangerous weapon, should it fall into the wrong hands.

Donning a disguise as one of the smuggler’s goons based on information WISE had gathered, he infiltrates their base.

"Yo!!! 'Sup, Chad?" One of the guards at the warehouse's entrance lifts a fist towards him. Twilight lifts his own fist to fistbump the man and replies, "Not so good." 

"So I heard. But ya won't repeat the mishaps, will ya?" 

Apparently, this guard has heard about the 'Chad' guy's little mistake in selling armed weapons to small Ostanian gangsters. A transaction that had finally allowed WISE to gather information regarding this particular big player in the weapon smuggling business. If such a small fry has already heard of such news, then Twilight needs to be very careful not to bump into any more people. Especially the higher-ups. 

Twilight curses in his mind. He really hates when confounding variables pop up that he had not anticipated in the various backup plans that he already prepared. However, that is what makes him differ from any other agent. He is always able to adapt. 

"Of course. I'm not stupid enough to repeat the same mistake!" He grumbles, staying in character.

The guard laughs. "Obviously. You wouldn’t have become our top negotiator if you did, huh?"

Twilight smirks, "That's why I came here. I got a new potential buyer. And by 'potential’ I mean real potential. I could atone for my mistake. The boss should be very happy."

"Oh?" 

"So I'll take a peek for a bit, ‘kay?" 

"Sure…," The guard moves away from his position and lets Twilight walk in. 

Once inside, Twilight makes sure to look around while walking confidently towards the inner rooms. The warehouse’s construction is a bit simpler and more straightforward than any other weapon smuggling operation he’s seen. He does notice the many armed guards dotted about. An indication that a shipment has been or is about to be made. Perfect opportunity for the spy to dig for information regarding their shipment schedule. 

Twilight is about to walk towards the very back end of the location when he bumps into a bulky man whom he recognizes as one of the ring’s higher-ups. His stomach churns uncomfortably. The leader shouldn’t be in this place at this time. Another unanticipated circumstance, but he has no choice now. He has to follow the flow of events and hope for the best.

When the leader’s eyes land on him, Twilight's keen observations catch a micro change in his body language before the bulky man returns to his cheerful demeanor. 

"Yo, Chad!"

Staying in character, Twilight hunches a little when returning the greeting. A normal gesture for someone who has made a mistake. "Boss?"

"What made my trusty negotiator come 'ere? Did ya sniff out our new goods?"

The spy shrugs, "I got a buyer. And as soon as possible, I want to get your approval again."

The leader guffaws, "Atta boy! I knew I could give ya a second chance." He then looks around him towards his bodyguards, "What did I tell ya guys? This chap has good business sense in 'im!"

Returning his attention to the spy, the leader asks, "So I get it ya wanna see the goods with ya own eyes?"

"Can't sell 'em if I don't know what to sell, can I?" Twilight replies at once. 

"Come then!" 

Twilight deliberately suppresses his defensive reflex from showing as he lets the leader approach him and grip his shoulder.

The experienced spy knows immediately to prepare for the worst; the grip on his shoulder is painfully firm as he is led to a place with minimal escape routes that also happens to be loaded with weapons. Several survival plans immediately form in his head when the big guy moves his arm around and proudly shows Twilight their weapons collections. "What do you think of these new additions, Chad?"

Noticing the change in atmosphere, the blond man tries to retaliate, "That's all? I don't see anything new."

"Ahh…curious aren't we?" Then he smirks, "You see, our new weapon can be easily concealed. You do know that huh, Chad? Or, to be precise, Twilight?" 

Fingers twitching, heartbeat pounding in his ears, Twilight tries to stay calm and stay in character, "Of course. Why the sudden urge to call that blasted Westalian dog's name anyway?" 

The bulky man guffaws. "You really don’t know, huh?" He whispers in his ear and the hair on the back of Twilight's neck stands straight up. "I killed Chad last night."

With his superior reflexes, Twilight twists his body and blocks the leader's hand with a knife aimed at his side, simultaneously kneeing the large man in the groin, forcing him to hunch forward. Taking advantage of the momentum for maximum effect, the blond spy shoots his palm upright and slams the enemy's jaw, and the man’s head jerks backward with a noticeable crack. 

Prying the knife away from the leader's hand, he then ducks and slashes the throat of the nearest bodyguard who is trying to shoot him, taking his gun away, and shooting the remaining two bodyguards. 

The commotion obviously attracts all the armed guards in the vicinity. Forming an applicable survival plan in his head, Twilight shoots at a nearby electrical panel, plunging them into darkness, and then starts shooting and dodging bullets as best he can. 

The hangar is immediately swarmed with at least fifty fully armed men, backups from different areas continually flowing in every minute. Surrounded by weaponry, Twilight makes sure to utilize his surroundings to his advantage, aside from using his own gun and martial arts skills. 

If he can’t manage to get any information, at the very least, he will ensure they won't be able to make any deliveries for some time. And of course, he needs to get out of there alive.

.

The door is suddenly thrown open violently by flying dead bodies as he is pushed into a corner. Most of the thugs turn their heads towards the intrusion in alarm. Twilight doesn't care to look at the newcomer and chooses to take the distraction by immediately jumping behind a sturdy desk. Pulling the pin from the grenade in his hand, he throws it towards a large group of goons, and as soon as it explodes, he makes a run for the now open door. 

Unfortunately, the armed men do not fall for his trick. He curses under his breath when his path is blocked, and again he has to engage in hand-to-hand combat. 

Fighting at least six guards at once, he moves to the side on instinct, narrowly dodging a stiletto thrown in his direction. The knife grazes and shreds his mask from his cheekbone upward before it embeds itself into the guard’s skull on his left.

The tear in his mask creates a flap that blocks his view. Twilight curses when he is left with no choice but to rip it off. Now that his face is exposed, he has to eliminate those around him to protect his identity. Including the new intruder, whose arrival was meant to be used as part of his escape plan.

Snapping necks and shooting several heads of his nearest assaulters, Twilight suddenly finds himself blocking rapid hand-to-hand attacks from the intruder, who, without him noticing, has invaded his space.

Fast .

During that split-second encounter, the spy immediately notices the vast difference of power behind each punch between the guards and this intruder. Blocking four of their jabs has already made his limbs go numb and he has lost his grip on his guns. 

So strong .

He also notices when the attack suddenly stops followed by a surprised squeak, “Loid?!”

Finally taking the time to properly look at the intruder's face, his eyes widen in equal surprise as he recognizes the woman. “Yor?!”

Unfortunately, the unexpected reunion is cut short, the pair of them turning to counter the continual attacks coming from a horde of guards.  

.

It doesn't help that Twilight has to force himself to prioritize his actions instead of glancing at his wife across the room. He is supposed to concentrate on his own safety and the implication of the fact that apparently, Yor is not a gullible city hall worker as he had believed.

Not on how deadly efficient her moves are in eliminating the guards. 

Not on how beautiful she looks amidst blood splatters, hails of bullets, and even fiery explosions. 

Stop ogling, Twilight!!! Your missions are in danger here!

Shaking his head, Twilight tries to calm down and reassess his condition. 

This new discovery means that he cannot trust Yor. Just because they have lived under the same roof for several months, and he has not yet woken up dead, doesn't mean that he can leave his back exposed to her right now. As far as he knows, her mission could be to eliminate him, being a Westalian spy on Ostanian ground.

After shooting down several men before him, the blond spy glances toward Yor's latest position. His heart races when he can't pinpoint her location.

Where is she?!

The hair on the back of his neck stands up when he senses Yor suddenly materialize behind him. He scolds himself for not anticipating her movement sooner, and now he needs to twist his torso as far as he can, putting himself in a very weak stance, and braces himself for an impact from her. 

The world tilts when his collar is harshly jerked sideways while his wife’s heel simultaneously slams into three opponents at once, whom he had somehow failed to notice before. The clattering of different weapons falling around the collapsing guards tells him that they had been trying to catch him off guard with a surprise attack.

Twilight is slack-jawed as he stumbles to reposition his stance when his wife releases her grip on his collar and disappears as quickly as she had come. 

He blinks in bewilderment. Did she just protect me?

Again, Twilight doesn’t have time to ponder the odd variables that ruin his previous calculations and he forces himself to prioritize his survival. 

.

Twilight doesn’t know how many minutes have passed when the last goon is finally down. He feels his limbs going numb, and his lungs burn from exhaustion. Against all odds, he has managed to ensure this ring permanently stops its operation. A much better result than his previous assignment. 

Regretfully, he manages to achieve this result with Yor’s help. And yet, he hasn’t managed to confirm what her mission is.

He forces his shaky legs to take a firm stance, as he points his gun towards Yor’s heaved back.

He grits his teeth. That's way too careless!

“You should not turn your back towards your opponent, you know that?!”

He notices how she flinches upon hearing his unintentionally harsh tone and turns slowly to face him. She grips her weapon tighter in one hand, which Twilight copies while warily eyeing her every small movement.

He notes that they are both covered in blood. Most probably a mix between their enemies and a bit of their own. However, his eyes are drawn immediately to his wife’s right hand which has been clutching her abdomen, where he can see fresh blood oozing between her fingers. His mind flashes back to the moment when he had been shoved away from a possible surprise attack. 

His throat constricts uncomfortably.

Did she take the blow for me?

Twilight frowns when he looks into his wife's eyes, trying to search for an answer. 

She looks back at him and then narrows her eyes. All of a sudden, she lifts her arm and flicks her knife at lightning speed. 

The blond spy reacts at once, moves his body to the side, and pulls the trigger. 

The bullet successfully lodges in a survivor’s chest that had snuck up behind him, while Yor’s knife embeds in his skull. 

He lets out a shaky breath. 

At least this means she didn't come to kill me, right?

A faint grunt of pain immediately snaps his head towards his wife's position.

Loid's eyes widen in horror as he sees her sway and stagger. “Yor!”

The man leaps to his wife's side in an instant, steadying her. He then sheds his jacket and drapes it across her shoulders. 

"I'm okay…," he hears her whisper. 

Loid clenches his jaw. Typical Yor, trying to brush my concerns aside. She is obviously not okay .

To make things worse, his ears catch the sound of police sirens approaching. Of course the police would sniff out a nighttime gunfight.

He growls and searches his surroundings. Spotting a shallow crevice at a lower level, blocked by debris, he then carefully leads her towards the spot.

“Come on.”

.

They huddle and wait for the perfect moment to make their escape.

Minutes pass as Loid keeps his eyes focused on the area immediately outside their hiding spot while training his keen ears on the police officers searching every nook and cranny for any survivors and taking note of everything that might have happened there.

At the same time, he tightens his grip on his wife’s shoulders when he feels Yor leaning more and more heavily on him. When her head drops to the crook of his neck, he finally glances at her and cups her cheek in worry. “Hey, hang in there.”

“So-sorry…,” she whispers, breathing heavily.

Loid frowns. From his brief inspection earlier, he didn’t find any severe open wounds. But her injuries could be concealed by her dark-colored dress. Or maybe there are internal injuries somewhere.

“Poison…,” she answers, as if reading his mind. 

Loid stiffens and curses. He has limited knowledge regarding poisons. He fidgets nervously. He needs to take her out of here and find someone who can treat her and-

“Antidote…in my…cupboard.”

He glances down again and notices her labored breathing. “Okay.”

Home.  

He can get them home.

As soon as he sees an opening, he scoops up his wife and slips out from the crevice carefully, moving between shadows, avoiding the officers’ view.

Finally smuggling them out of the building unnoticed, Loid runs as fast as he can towards their apartment. 

.

Coming in from the emergency exit to their apartment level, Loid manages to enter their home unnoticed by their neighbors.

Using his heel to close the front door, he moves quickly past Bond, who first wags his tail happily but soon stops and whimpers (such a perceptive dog), and enters Yor's room. 

Carefully he lowers his wife onto her bed, on top of the bed covers. 

"Upper right corner…," she whispers. 

Opening the right corner of her closet, he is greeted by many types of knives, needles, dark-colored bottles, and herb bags neatly placed in order. 

He takes the herb bags and promptly shows them to his wife. When she nods, acknowledging that these are indeed the correct herbs, he runs to their kitchen. 

Clawing the bag open and swinging the kettle in a hurry, he nearly smashes it into a row of glasses. 

Calm down, Twilight. Don't panic. Why are you panicking in the first place?

He fills the thing with water, but he quickly realizes that he doesn't know the exact measurement to make the correct remedy. Cursing internally, he just drops in the whole package of herbs, fills the kettle to its brim with water, and starts boiling it. He hopes it won’t ruin the efficacy. 

The man then hurriedly returns to his wife's room and gasps when he sees Yor standing, wobbly at their bathroom door. 

"Yor!!! What are you doing?!" 

He scoops her back up and returns to the bed. She answers weakly, "Need to clean myself…"

"Let me do it."

"No. I'll just…"

"Yor, you can barely stand. You definitely won't be able to do it by yourself. Let me help!"

Dull and tired red eyes look back at him as if searching for something.

Is it reassurance? Answers? Consolations? 

Honestly, Loid isn't sure whether he is ready to give her all of that. But he knows that he wants to help take care of her.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, and toning down his voice, Loid tells her gently but firmly,  "Yor, you've helped me so many times before, including taking a blow for me just now. Let me return the favor." 

When he sees her face frown with uncertainty, Loid's eyes soften as he caresses her cheek with soft fingers. "Please…?"

He lets her stare and search his eyes for a while. After several seconds that feel like an eternity to him, she finally relents, sinking back into the mattress and nodding.

Immediately, he rushes to their bathroom to retrieve several towels, fills a basin with warm water, and snatches his special first aid kit hidden below the sink. He brings all of the tools to Yor's room, placing them neatly at the table beside her bed, pulls up a nearby chair, and starts to work. 

.

When Loid is patching her up, he notices how still Yor can be. 

She doesn't hiss, grunt, or even wince when he cleans and sutures her wounds close. In different circumstances, he might admire that high pain tolerance. At this moment, he just hopes that it has nothing to do with her gulping down the nasty-looking, awful-smelling remedy she had claimed as the antidote of all poisons several minutes before. Whether his wife is trying to fight poison with poison, Loid cannot know for sure with his own limited knowledge. He really needs to learn more about poisons in the near future.

In her silence, the only way Loid knows that she is in and out of consciousness is a subtle flinch every time she abruptly wakes up. He wishes that she could let her body succumb to the possible drowsy effect of her remedy. But then again, her restlessness is an understandable reaction after the revelation of their respective secret jobs. A subconscious survival instinct that has been drilled into the minds of people like them.

Loid knows this well. 

And he shouldn't feel this pain in his chest in knowing that Yor can't trust him fully, as he can’t trust her.

Incidentally, he also cannot stop the dread of knowing that her secret job is far more dangerous than his; there must have been times when she had come home injured, and he had been totally oblivious. (Well, it also means it had happened vice versa, but this is not about him.) 

All this time they had been playing house, Loid had rarely seen Yor without her signature warm smile. He makes a mental note to make sure to take notice of the signs of her needing help better, because she will never actively ask for it.

He is wiping her face and neck when Loid hears a whisper so soft he thinks he’s misheard, "Are you…even a real doctor?"

Loid stops for a moment and blinks.

Of all the questions to be asking, she chooses the most obvious one? 

Loid chuckles softly and shakes his head. "No. But I know enough to take care of injuries."

Yor hums. 

"What about you? Are you a real City Hall clerk?"

She gives him a small smile. "I am."

Wiping down her arms, he raises his brows, "Oh? I didn't expect that." 

"I can't rely on this job forever. I need a...stable job with less risk."

Loid hums his agreement as he finishes cleaning her. 

He honestly expects a more tense, rage-filled conversation to arise in their current unusual situation, especially since they are working on opposite sides. But as always, Yor manages to surprise him. Somehow, their little conversation makes him relax his tense muscles for a bit. He hadn’t even realized how keyed up he has been this entire time. Maybe it is her way of reassuring him that she is willing to give him time to explain himself? Still, it’s something that can be done later. Resting and healing up first. 

Loid takes a deep breath and then turns around to take Yor's nightgown, folded neatly on the far desk. "Come, let's get you out of that dirty dress." 

Loid can't stop a chuckle when he sees that Yor’s still got enough blood to make her face turn red. 

"Ummm…I can…"

"I'll close my eyes. No peeking. Promise." He intercepts her.

He sees her fidgeting and gulping nervously, and a soft smile blooms on his face.

Now that’s the Yor I know.

He lets her take her time to think about his offer, and only after she nods her agreement does he carefully help her sit up, and holds her back for support before he closes his eyes as promised. 

The man relies on his muscle memory when helping her get changed. It takes longer, but they manage.

Loid then removes the dirty bed covers, helps her lay down as comfortably as possible, and covers her with blankets. 

"Rest now." 

She nods her thanks, and starts to close her eyes, but forces them open again, "Oh! But it is almost time, Anya will…"

He shouldn't feel a sudden surge of warmth, but he does anyway as he caresses her head, "Just sleep. Don't worry about that."

If Yor has the intention to protest further, she doesn't manage to utter it, as her eyelids drop closed and her remaining energy finally leaves her body.

"Stop forcing yourself to be awake and relax. Everything will be fine," he whispers. 

When he feels her breathing has become steady and slow, he finally sighs in relief.

At least for now, everything is in order.  

He lets out a shaky breath as the tension in his own body dissipates. But somehow, he can't shake something nagging at the back of his mind.

Opting to ignore it for now, he stands up, tidying the remnants of the first aid kit and dirty clothes, he makes his way back to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

.

As the hot water flows over his body, Loid feels his anxiety piling up, pondering the new information at hand, and mulling over what’s to be done next. This consists of making sure Anya doesn't over-worry about Yor's condition, and as best he can, he wants to spare their daughter from knowing that her foster parents are not who she thought they were.

He cannot understand why he feels so anxious. Sure, his daughter can be very perceptive at times, and he really can't afford for his family to be torn apart. 

Because of the impending doom of Operation Strix, or something else?

He turns the hot water up and puts his head under the pounding water.

Maybe it would be better if he rehearsed what he would tell Anya beforehand. 

.

When he steps out of the bathroom, he hears the front door open. 

"Anya's home!"

The cheerful voice of his daughter manages to lift a little bit of his anxiety. He puts on his smile and gets ready to relay excuses that he had rehearsed several times in the bathroom: Yor is sick, she needs time to rest, and everything will be alright. 

He is about to open his mouth when suddenly Anya becomes very silent and tense. 

"Anya? Is everything al-..."

All of a sudden, she drops her school bag and runs towards Yor's room. 

"Wait, Anya!" Loid extends his arms to block his daughter's path, but somehow she manages to maneuver out of his reach, and slams open the door to Yor's room. 

"Mamaaaaaa!!!" She wails.

He runs after her daughter, "Anya, calm down. Yor just needs…" 

He freezes. 

Yor looks worse than the last time he had left her. 

She grips her blanket, her face scrunching up, flushing and sweating profusely. Her breathing is shallow and quick. Loid hurriedly places his hand on her head to check her temperature and is horrified to feel that she is burning up.

“Papa, Mama is in pain…,” Anya tells him between panicked sobs. 

His anxiety returns tenfold.

Damn it! Did the antidote fail?

He grits his teeth. 

He really wants to just grab her and run to the hospital. But what would he tell the doctors about the reason for Yor's condition? Poisons are not daily occurrences. He cannot risk people sniffing around and finding out about their identities. The consequences would be dire. 

What should I do?!

"Papa, please help her!" 

Loid grips his hair in frustration upon hearing Anya's desperate plea. 

Okay. Calm down. Anya said Yor is in pain, isn't she? 

Pain. 

Pain killer then. 

The man then rushes to his room, yanks open his cupboard to grab his medicine box and rummages through its contents. After finding the desired medicine, he runs to the kitchen and grabs a glass of water, before returning to the room. 

He carefully lifts Yor's upper body, slipping his folded leg behind her back as a makeshift stand, and starts to shake her awake. 

"Yor…Yor…wake up. Hey…"

She groans, and that is enough to make his heart leap in hope. 

Still responsive. She's still fighting.

Forcing her mouth open, he slips in the tablet and shakily places the glass of water to her lips. "Yor, drink. Please. Drink and swallow it. Please…"

To his relief, somehow Yor manages to swallow the tablet without choking.

He then carefully lays her down and rushes to the bathroom to retrieve a cloth and a bowl of warm water. Dousing the cloth and wringing it out, he dabs at Yor's head. 

"Is Mama going to die?" Anya sniffles at his side. 

Loid turns his focus towards his daughter, who has been hugging Bond for support. 

He lets out a shaky breath, "No. No. Yor is strong. She will be okay."

I hope so. 

Please let it be so.  

He doesn't know the exact answer. He knows too little about poisons. He thought Yor would know better, since she is an assassin who would utilize such substances in her line of work. Hence he believed her when she said she had the antidotes. 

Damn it. Can't I do something?

Think, Twilight!! Think!!!

"Can the hospital help?" Anya asks him. 

Loid gives her the best reassuring smile he can muster.

"Uuhh…. Unfortunately no. You see Anya, Yor's sickness is…."

Wait . 

His eyes widen when the realization hits him.

The people from the hospital might not be able to help. But the books can .

"On second thought, Anya. There might be something that can help Yor at the hospital." He then turns and faces his daughter seriously, "But I need to go there myself. Can I trust you to watch over her while I’m away?" 

Anya sits upright, wipes her wet eyes, and then nods seriously.

"Smart girl." Loid pats her head, and then he gives her the wet cloth, "I need you to keep dabbing this wet cloth at Yor's head and neck. And give her as much drink as possible. Can you do that?" 

Again, his daughter nods seriously. "Oui."

He pats her head again and whispers into her hair, "That's my girl. I'll be back soon."

Loid immediately packs the things he needs to bring to make his visit to the hospital seem like his usual activities after each mission and then runs as fast as he can.

He will not let Yor die on him. 

Chapter Text

Right after Loid arrives at the hospital, the man promptly drops off the brief reports on his latest mission. He makes up the excuse that he needs reliable medical information to complete Anya’s homework pronto and promises to send in the full report the day after. Fortunately, Fiona (and by extension Handler) believes him. Thus, he manages to excuse himself from the short debriefing and ends up at the library. 

Loid clicks his tongue in frustration, as he quickly flips the pages of the thick tomes before him. He had collected all the medical books about toxicology that are available in Berlint Central Hospital’s library. His eyes scan quickly through rows and columns of dense text to find necessary pieces of information. 

“Okay…so judging from her symptoms, and the availability of the sources, the most probable poisons could be [-----], [----], or [----].” Opening another book, he continues his search, “Mmm… okay, at least these aren’t lethal in terms of blocking the [----] system, or even inducing [----]. Okay, that is good news. Possible antidotes…possible antidotes…” Index finger frantically tracing another book’s wall of text, “There are no exact antidotes?! Are you f**ing kidding me??!” He slams the book shut.

Grabbing for another book; “Come on…come on…,” nervous fingers tap impatiently at the index of the book, then frantically flip through the pages, “Okay…at least I could mix [----] and [----], and perhaps add [----] for extra measure, considering she might have a higher tolerance than ordinary people. Okay. That should do.”

He writes down the names of possible medicines and goes to the hospital’s pharmacy warehouse to retrieve them using any means necessary. 

.

Pain . 

So much pain.  

Her head throbs and her whole body hurts. It is difficult to take a deep breath, let alone move her body. 

When was the last time she felt this intensity of pain? 

Yor cannot remember exactly, but maybe it was during her training. Those harsh times when she just relied on her body strength to remember each poison introduced to her system and develop a mechanism to overcome them all. Information on poisons has always been her weakness. But at least she managed to remember the basics. 

"Mama?" 

A sudden call coming from her left ear makes her flinch away. It must be at the sound level of a normal conversation, but in her current state, it jabs at her ear and shoots a new wave of pain.

She then hears a small gasp, and then a much, much softer tone tries calling out to her again. "Mama? Are you awake?" 

Forcing her eyes to open, Yor can see a blurry image of a pink head and green eyes hovering over her.

"An..ya…?" She winces at her own hoarse voice. 

A shuffle can be heard, and before long the tip of straw is placed at her lips. "Drink?"

Yor sucks the water carefully and swallows slowly. She can't believe that it even hurts to swallow plain water. But she has to do it.

Basic detoxifying. Drink lots of water and let your kidneys do the rest.

It must be no longer than a few minutes, but to Yor, it feels like it takes her ages to finish the whole glass. And even that small effort takes up almost all of her energy, making her breathe heavily.

"Anya will take more water."

"Thank you, dear…," she whispers before her daughter walks into the kitchen. She then looks around her room and notices the dark sky behind her curtains.

Oh dear. Is it already this late?  

Forcing her arm to bend, she tries to sit. But the jolt of pain makes her grit her teeth and take a slow short breath to prevent any whimper from escaping from her mouth. 

"Mama, don't!"

Once again she flinches at the sounds of her daughter's panicked scream. 

Anya gasps, and then whispers, "Sorry…" The little girl tugs at her arm, and pushes her to lie back down, "Mama shouldn't move too much. Or the poshions will be worse."

Yor’s brow furrows. 

Potion? What potion?

"Ah…uh…Papa said you have to lay down. To…to not make it hurt. " 

Yor gives her a small smile. 

That's probably the best option for now. 

Lying down as still as she can, Yor's mind rakes her memory regarding her previous experiences with poisons. There was one type that made her go through similar pain. Back then, her trainer told her that this type of poison aims to disable the victim through immense pains that prevent the victim from breathing or plunging them into panic attacks, cutting the oxygen supply to the body, and thus killing them slowly. 

Which means I only need to stay calm, take a slow breath to make sure I get the continuous oxygen flow, endure the pain, and after my body eliminates it, I will be okay.

She thinks she hears her daughter sigh in relief, but maybe that's her own imagination amidst the pain. She then feels Anya dab her head carefully with a warm cloth. The gesture actually feels so nice that Yor cannot help but lean into it and hum in contentment. 

Geez, Yor. How can you make Anya take care of you…what a burden…

"Is Anya a good nurse?"

Her eyes flicker towards the bright green eyes full of hope, and Yor smiles. "The best." 

The acknowledgment makes Anya's face light up even more. It really warms her heart, and Yor tries her best to memorize every single detail of it.

"Then Mama has to sleep. Don't worry, Anya will stay here."

"No. You should sleep, dear. I'll be alright."

You have school tomorrow. What about your homework? Have you had your dinner yet?

Her daughter shakes her head, "Stop thinking, Mama. Sleep."

Yor wants to refuse Anya's order. But the combination of constant comforting dabs, and the amount of willpower she has to utilize to endure the pain does make her feel tired. 

So very tired. 

"Sleep, Mama…"

And her eyes drop closed.

Thank you so much, my little snowdrop.

.

Loid enters the apartment quickly but silently. He curses at how late it’s become. He never believed it would take that much time and effort to smuggle medicines from the hospital pharmacy. The hospital's security system is much better than he thought. As expected from the biggest hospital in Berlint, but at this moment, he really hates it. 

Going immediately towards his wife's room, he is greeted by an alarmed Bond standing between the door and the sleeping Anya who rests her head on the mattress beside her mother. He nods his head in acknowledgment to the dog when Bond wags his tail, signifying that he recognizes it is indeed him and not some stranger. 

Immediately after, he puts his hand on Yor's head and finds the fever hasn’t died down. In fact, now he can even see the muscle twitch accompanied by faint grunts coming from her, telling him that her condition is getting worse.

Putting his bag on the desk, he immediately pulls out a smaller bag filled with different ampules of injections. After filling the syringe with their contents, the man then approaches his wife, moves the blanket covering one of her legs, and carefully lifts up her nightgown, exposing her thigh. 

As his trembling hand swabs the skin with alcohol and injects all of the content in the syringe inside, Loid hears her groans and feels her muscle spasm. He rubs the injection site and whispers, “I’m sorry. I know it stings, but bear with it a bit, okay?” Then he returns her covers. 

Putting away the now empty syringe, Loid then focuses his attention on his sleeping daughter. Her head is laying uncomfortably on the mattress, while her little hand is still clutching the damp cloth. 

His eyes soften. 

She really takes the task very seriously, huh.

Several empty chocolate bar packages litter a corner, making Loid's heart clench. 

Oh no, I forgot to prepare her a proper dinner.  

Loid sighs apologetically and caresses his daughter’s head. He then cradles her up to move her into her own room.

"Nnn… Papa?" His daughter's sleepy voice greets him. 

Loid whispers in her ears, "Yeah, it's me."

The girl stirs, "How's Mama?"

"I already gave her the medicine. She's going to be fine." 

She has to. Or else I don't know what to do.

He walks outside followed by their faithful hound.

"Mm… Mama wakes up when you're away."

"Really? Did she say something?"

"Mhmm… She said after a calm rest she's going to be fine. And she likes the wet cloth."

Loid lays her gently on her bed. "I see. You've done an amazing job." He pats her head and gives her Mr. Chimera to hold. "Now it's time for you to sleep."

"Mmm…" Anya snuggles with Mr. Chimera, and he covers her with a blanket. His daughter is out like a light within seconds. 

A nudge at his pants makes him look at his side. He chuckles when he pats Bond’s head. “You’ve done a great job too.” The dog’s eyes sparkle, and then he waddles and curls at the feet of Anya’s bed, most likely to continue his duty as Anya’s protector. 

Loid then exits Anya’s room, returns to Yor's room, and sits on the chair near it. He puts the cloth inside the basin, wrings it out, and continues dabbing her head. 

Please let this medication work.

.

Approximately 30 minutes later, finally, the medication begins to take effect. 

Yor has stopped twitching, her temperature has gradually come down to normal, and her breathing has become deep and steady. 

Loid presses his fingers to her neck, feeling her pulse. When he feels it thump, slow and strong, the man lets out a long sigh of relief. He feels the crushing weight leave his chest, and he finally can take a long, deep breath. He flops back in the chair he's been occupying. 

Thank goodness it’s worked.  

He chuckles tiredly and presses his shaky palm to his eyes, to wipe away a sudden burst of relieved tears.

It worked.

Suddenly his arms drop to his side and refuse to budge. His limbs feel like jelly. And just then he realizes that he must've been running on adrenaline for hours, and now he is suffering the consequences. 

Dropping his head back, his mind starts to replay the events of that evening. Analyzing every decision he’s made, he is astonished to realize just how reckless and illogical most of those decisions have been.

Taking care of an enemy country's assassin, and even breaking rules for her? Ridiculous!

His spy side mocks him for his sloppiness. But his more human side, the one he doesn't realize he still has or maybe the one that has just resurfaced, thinks that all his actions were valid. 

Every action was driven by one cause.

The only thing that will always drive any human being to make any illogical decision the way he has. 

Fear.

Extreme fear of losing someone dear to him. 

It's been so long since the last time he felt that way that he almost forgot all about it.

Perhaps, the last time he felt this way was during his childhood, amidst the war and bombings.  

He thought he had perfected the necessary precautions; detaching himself from any emotion and attachment; to never let himself feel that way ever again. 

But apparently, just as Yor had managed to slip behind him at the tailor back then when they first met, she has also managed to slip inside his stone-cold heart and resides there, spreading warmth without him being able to stop it. 

He chuckles weakly upon the realization that only now is he finally brave enough to admit it.

Those damn feelings.

He really is a failure as a spy. 

But somehow, he doesn't regret it. 

For several minutes he just sits there and stares at the still form of his wife, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. 

"Goodness gracious, Yor. Please don't ever do that again..." He manages to let out a shuddering whisper. “I don’t think I could survive it.”

The man plans to stay awake at his wife's side and continue to take care of her, but his extreme exhaustion makes his eyes close without him realizing it. 

.

Slowly waking up from her dreamless slumber, the first thing Yor realizes is that the pain in her body is mostly gone, and she can breathe easily. There are still several places that emanate a dull pain, but those are negligible. 

Blinking her eyes open, she takes in her surroundings and notices that she is still laying down in her bed. Trying to flex her arms and finding them moveable without painful muscle spasms, Yor then carefully bends them and pushes herself slowly into a sitting position. 

Looking at her side, she notices her husband is sleeping in the chair. Upon seeing his face looking so pale and tired, her heart clenches.

Goodness, Yor. How much more trouble do you plan to burden him with?

Now that the pain is gone, she can start to think clearly, replaying the events from earlier.

Apparently, Loid, or whatever his real name is, is a spy. Most probably a Westalian, because it doesn't make sense for an Ostanian spy to infiltrate their own country. He was wearing a disguise mask during the fight at the warehouse. And the infamous spy to don disguises as of late is called Twilight. A lowlife scum that is said to actively seek opportunities to cripple Ostania and obliterate them. 

Yor focuses back on his face and thinks back on her own experiences during their time together. No wonder he always comes home tired, and maybe has returned home injured several times. And yet after each mission, this man before her always takes the time to prepare everything meticulously to provide the best for Anya, and lately, for her. 

He cooks, pampers, and protects them. 

Sure, it could just be an act, but Yor sees it herself, how gentle this man can be towards Anya and herself. He’s never judged her, even from the very start. 

And the most jarring example is this recent event. Even after knowing that they are working for different countries, he still fulfills her wish and brings her home, and even takes care of her to exhaustion.

Those gestures are impossible to fake. 

No matter what other people say, Yor knows for sure that he is a good man, through and through. 

She takes a deep breath and tries her best to squash the pang of pain in her chest that has nothing to do with poison. 

She has grown to love this little fake family of hers. She thought she had found new flowers to be kept in her own blooming garden. That it was finally her time to create a home and family of her own. However, once again, she is harshly reminded that their arrangement is built upon mutual benefits. Their fake relationships are bound to break at a certain point. And for her, the time is now.

Whatever mission Loid is currently executing, it is clear to Yor, that she will be in his way. 

She clenches her teeth. 

No. 

She will not let herself become the liability in his mission, possibly putting his life, and Anya's, in danger. 

She doesn't care about politics or things like that. 

To her, Loid and Anya are her precious people. She has sworn to protect them. And she will do it in her own way. If she needs to be away from them and live in the shadows to do it, then that’s what she’ll do. 

With the new determination, Yor slowly gets up from her bed. She shuffles as silently as possible, changing her clothes, packing her little important belongings, and putting them inside one small bag. 

Taking her blanket and draping it over Loid's sleeping form, she takes her time to engrave his face into her memory. Knowing that this will be her last time seeing him this close, Yor gathers all her courage and lightly presses her lips to the top of his head. 

"Thank you for all the time and happiness you gave me, Loid," she whispers and smiles sadly. 

Though reluctant, she pushes her legs to move outside of her room, and silently closes the door. 

Turning left, she stares at Anya's door. After pausing for a moment, she decides to open the door and slips in. 

Walking towards the sleeping figure of her daughter, she sees Bond wake up and wags his tail. Yor strides towards him, pets his head, and puts her finger to her lips. The clever dog then silently lays back down at the foot of Anya's bed. 

Yor kneels at the side of her daughter's bed, and caresses her head lovingly. She remembers how this little girl had done so well, taking care of and comforting her. Yor feels extremely lucky to have been able to meet such a smart and amazing girl during her life. Yor knows that she'll miss her so much. 

Her little snowdrop. 

Kissing her temple, she whispers, "Thank you so much for everything, Anya."

Yor then stands up and walks towards the bedroom door. She casts one last long gaze towards the small sleeping form, and finally slips outside, closing the door behind her.

Chapter Text

When his head suddenly drops to the side, Loid jerks awake and manages to balance himself before he tumbles from the chair. 

His heart drums erratically from the shock as he blinks his bleary eyes to adjust to the dark room. 

Tsk. I fell asleep . 

The feeling of a soft fabric sliding down from his shoulder alerts him of something amiss. Looking at the bed in front of him, his eyes widen in surprise to see it empty. 

Where is she?!

Jumping from the chair, he yanks opens the room's door and searches the bathroom across the hall. 

Only to find it empty. 

Gulping in worry, he briskly walks towards his own room, their living room, the kitchen. But he still cannot find his wife. 

He then dreadfully glances at the front door. 

Could it be that she-

A faint click of a door makes him whirl back towards the hallway. 

Upon seeing a figure retreating from Anya's room, he lets go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

"Hey, you shouldn't move around that much yet." He simply states. 

But apparently, Yor doesn't anticipate him being there as she jolts and twirls in surprise. Almost immediately after she gasps and bends down, clutching her injured abdomen. 

Loid reaches out instinctively. But his hands abruptly stop mere inches from touching her when he notices her appearance and the bag clutched in her hand. 

He retracts his hands, steps back, and furrows his brows. 

"You're leaving?" He cannot stop the desperation from etching the question coming out of his mouth. 

And he knows that Yor catches it as her eyes widen and her mouth opens and closes several times, but no words manage to come out of her. 

Loid lets down his hand and clenches them. 

He understands that their agreement was made upon mutual benefits. And by now, Yor must've realized that he had unfairly asked more from her. Thus he cannot blame her for choosing to leave. But his other, selfish part doesn't want her to.

He looks up and tries to search her face for any hint that he could convince her to stay, but he finds Yor is looking down, avoiding his gaze instead. It's as if she were ashamed to be caught red-handed, doing something wrong. 

Loid's heart clenches. 

No. She did nothing wrong.  

She shouldn't feel that way. 

To be quite honest, it would be easier for him if she was angry and shouting at him, demanding explanations, or accusing him of manipulations, so that he could start maneuvering the conversation from there.

But nothing akin to that happens.

Seconds pass and she just stands there, fidgeting on her feet. And that makes him feel awkward.

Really awkward.

Loid needs to find a way to stop this situation. 

But how?

Glancing at their living room, an idea suddenly pops into his head. 

"Do you perhaps care to have some tea?"

.

Yor blinks and looks at him at the sudden question. 

Of all the things Loid might say, she never expects him to offer her tea. 

"Su... sure…" 

She sees him smiling and relaxing his shoulders before gesturing to their living room, "Then let me prepare it."

"Okay." She nods stiffly and starts to walk toward their living room. 

She takes a seat at her usual spot on the love seat and waits silently. 

Oh no. Loid must be so disappointed with me. What…What should I do? She gulps and fiddles nervously with her fingers.

Before long, he comes and sits at the head of the sofa like he always does. He then serves their tea in the way she usually does. It brings warmth to her heart, knowing that at least there might be something of her that will be remembered by him.

“Here you go.” He slides her drink to her. 

“Thank you.” 

Yor’s brow knits in recognition when the soft scent of the tea wafts to her nose. She immediately takes the cup and sips her drink. It confirms her thoughts.

“Carnation tea?”

Loid shrugs. “It’s good to relieve stress and rejuvenate.”

She looks at him in surprise. “You remember?”

He smiles back at her. “I will never forget.”

Yor feels her cheeks heat with that, and she desperately tries to hide it behind the brim of her cup.

She then hears him sigh. “Can I at least ask you to stay until you’re fully recovered?”

“No worries. I can take care of myself. I got the antidote.”

“We both know it’s not true, don’t we?” He looks directly into her eyes.

Yor blinks. 

Suddenly a hazy memory of somebody feeding her a tablet, and sudden pricks at her leg followed by comforting rubs pops up in her mind. 

Oh. 

It wasn’t a dream.

She looks down to avoid meeting his eyes, and then slowly shakes her head. 

“I know this is very hypocritical of me, but…why did you lie?”

Yor stares at her own reflection in her cup and starts to explain. “Poisons can be very…unpredictable. I usually just endure them, and I’ve managed just fine until now." She inhales deeply, "At that time, however, I felt scared. If the worst happened, I wished to see Anya’s face for the last time.”

She hears Loid gasp, and she shrinks even further, “I’m sorry. I know I was being selfish. But I -”

Her husband suddenly moves close and sits next to her, making Yor scoot away in alarm. 

“Then why did you take the blow for me?”

She gulps, “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Why?”

She tilts her head in confusion. “Because I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. Besides, Anya needs her father to return home safely.” 

Loid’s mouth opens and closes before he grips his hair in frustration. “That’s…that’s not how it's supposed to work, Yor.”

“How so?”

He looks sternly at her, “Don’t you know by now that we are working for the opposite sides?”

“I don’t care about all that.” Yor answers him steadily. “If it’s still within my power, I’ll do my best to protect those dear to me. That’s the purpose of my monstrous strength anyway.” 

She then puts down her cup and continues, “Which is why, now that you already know who I really am, I won’t let myself be in the way of whatever your mission is.”

Yor then moves to stand up, but Loid grabs her arm stopping her, “Don’t you want me to explain?”

She shakes her head, “It’s better if I don’t know. Because no matter what other people say about you, I know better. You’re a good man, Loid. I trust you are doing things for the good of others.”

His eyes widen and the grip on her arm tightens right after she says those words. Yor can see him gulping before he asks, “Then…can I ask you to stay?”

She looks at him in bewilderment, “Pardon me?”

“Stay. Please.” 

Yor blinks. And it’s her turn to ask in confusion, “Why?”

“Because-” Loid stops and looks down, releasing his grip. 

He clasps his hand together and starts to rub his thumbs over each other.

Nervous ticks. Yor muses. I never knew Loid had them.  

If a person as composed as he is starts exhibiting such behavior, then whatever he is trying to say must be very important. And also very uncomfortable to share. 

Yor then repositions her sitting posture, telling him that he has all of her attention, and encouraging him to continue.

Loid must’ve noticed her silent gesture and he smiles in gratitude. 

He tightens his clasped fingers and takes a deep breath before starting his story.

“This…this family was formed for my mission. Because I needed to enroll my child into Eden to get in touch with…my target. They gave me one week. Which is why I then adopted Anya-”

“Anya is adopted?” Yor asks in surprise.

She sees him blinking, “Well…we don't look alike, do we?”

She blushes, “I thought she got her looks from her mother…wait…” Something has just clicked in her mind, “Then the story about your first wife who passed away-”

“I lied, obviously. I have never been married to anyone.”

“Oh!”

He coughs then continues, “A-anyway, against all odds, I managed to enroll Anya at Eden. But then the school asked that both parents had to attend the interview, which was why…”

Yor connects the dots herself, “You asked me to play as her mother.”

“Well, to be exact, I hadn’t had the chance to ask you, before you asked me first.”

She chuckles at that detail, “Ah! That’s true. Well…I also needed this fake marriage to keep the SSS off my back for being single. I want to keep doing my job…. This job. That I can do well. And Yuri was offered a promotion. I don’t want to hold him back or make him worry…”

Loid looks at her in disbelief, and she smiles sheepishly, “What? I didn’t make that up, Loid. That was my real reason.”

He then nods, “Of course. I'm the liar here."  He clears his throat and continues, "Right now I’m still far away from the goal of my mission. And Eden will be suspicious if my wife suddenly disappears.” 

“Which is the reason why I have to stay.” She frowns and nods in understanding.

She’s just another pawn in his mission.

Of course, Loid would not have any other reason in asking her to stay. She shouldn’t feel this disappointment in her chest, as if there was something more than that in the first place.

She hears Loid take a deep breath and answer, “Yes. And no….”

Yor returns her focus to him, and again, she sees him fidgeting.

“At first, that is the only reason, Yor. But now… now…”

She sees him rake his hair backward, and then with trembling hands, he takes his cup and chugs down its content in one gulp. 

He really is nervous .

"Do…do you mind hearing a…a long story?" Loid looks into her eyes, with a look almost like pained begging. 

Throughout her time spent with him, Yor had never seen Loid this nervous. She has a hunch that he wants to share some deep secrets. A thing that he rarely, or even maybe never, did before, as it is against his own principles. And as far as she knows, a spy is trained to never spill anything to anyone. She doesn't like the idea of him hurting himself in the process, but if he's willingly sharing it, then Yor will support him. 

She places her hand atop his knuckles and notices how cold his trembling hands are. She gives him a reassuring firm squeeze. "Of course not, Loid."

She hears him take a long deep breath, turning his palm so now he is grabbing her hand.

"I grew up in a different type of family than yours. My father was a stiff man who didn't hesitate to hit me if I didn't study well…"

Yor's brow knits. She dislikes the idea of such a parenting style. 

“…while my mom was always supportive of my decisions. This difference often made them fight with each other. I didn't like my father that much, but he was still my father. And I still wanted his recognition. Which was why before his next trip, I lied. I asked him for money, which I said was for me to buy books. But I used it to buy toys instead. I felt really bad and wanted to ask for his forgiveness. But the bombings happened and I never had a chance to…"

She gives him a comforting rub on his knuckles, as he takes a deep shuddering breath, and continues.

"After that, I tried my best to keep my mom safe. But I couldn't stand the sound of bombings. Even though we had moved away to a different city, the sounds of explosions, or anything akin to that, had always scared me. In the end, I would always seek my mom for comfort. And I could do nothing when the next bombings also took her away from me.” 

He slumps his shoulders, and Yor can feel him tightening his grip. Yor never thought there would come a day when she would be able to see this side of her strong, amazing husband. 

He looks so small. And fragile. Almost like a child. 

A broken, scared child.

“I felt so awful. To not have any power within me to stop the war from taking away my family…" 

Yor’s eyes soften. She knows those feelings well.

"After surviving a harsh life, in exchange for severing ties with anything from my past life, little by little I gained power, experience, and knowledge. All so that I can prevent such a tragedy from happening ever again…" 

Suddenly he brings his other hand to grip their intertwined one, as he looks directly into her eyes. "Have I ever told you that you always reminded me of my own mother?" 

She blinks. 

"Your strength, your lullaby…No matter how hard I try to deny it, I find comfort and safety in you. It's like I finally found someone that I can rely on." He takes a shuddered breath, "Against all my policies as a spy, I found…I found people that I truly care about. People I really want to protect. Who I have to protect. Especially now that I'm an adult and have the prowess to do so. And yet…" 

She sees him close his eyes tightly and brings their hands close to his face as he hunches.

She gulps and claps both of her hands on his, somehow she knows where his story is heading and she dreads what is about to come. 

"And yet…I let you get hurt."

She intercepts, "No, Loid. That wasn't-"

"And my ignorance almost got you killed..."

"Loid, no." Yor tries to stop him from sinking further into his panic, "Loid…Look at me."

"I've been doing this for a decade, yet…yet I…failed to see that…that…"

"Loid, that's enough. Stop!" 

She wants to wrap her arms around his fragile form to bring him back to the present with her. But her husband has a lock-tight grip on both of her hands.

"I can't…Like when the bombs came and…my mom…. my father…"

Oh… oh no…  Yor starts to panic as she wracks her brain for a way to make him stop.

"When you need me. I can't…" 

Without thinking further, Yor then lunges forward and pecks his lips. 

Loid suddenly opens his eyes wide, stops talking, and snaps up his head at her. 

It worked! Yor smiles. 

When she is sure that his eye is already focused on her, she tells him gently, "Loid, that's enough. I understand. I'll stay."

Yor is hoping to see Loid ease and relax at her statement. What she gets, however, is a baffled, slack-jawed Loid who freezes on the spot, and keeps looking at her as if she's grown two heads. 

Yor blinks as she tries to understand what had happened. Until she realized what she had done, and almost all the blood in her system rushes to her face, ears, and neck.

OH, SHOOT!

.

Loid’s mind suddenly goes blank as he feels his system shut down. 

Did she just kiss me?

When he sees her erupting in a blushing mess, and her mouth gaping like fish out of water, and blabbers, "I…a…not…I'm….That…" He feels warmth returning to his body. 

All of the fears that had been haunting him for the past hours dissipate into thin air just like that, in a way that only Yor Briar Forger can achieve.

My wife.

And the realization makes him slowly smile. 

"That… that.. I'm sorry… I shouldn't…."

"Yor." 

“Huh?” His calm and collected call makes her stop and shut her gaping mouth.

When he feels that he has got all of her attention, he cups her cheek gently. "May I?"

She blinks several times before sighing in relief, leans into his palm and eases into a fond smile. "Yes, you may."

And Loid wastes no more time closing the distance between them.

He pecks her lips once. Quick and unsure. But he can feel the softness of her warm lips, and it eases his anxiety.

She's here.

The second time his trembling lips connect, he feels the feeling of relief burst out from his chest. 

She's alive.

The third time he presses longer and deeper, pouring all his longing and desperation into the kiss. His fears are overridden with joy when he feels that Yor reciprocates. 

She's mine.

His heart leaps in giddy happiness when she tilts her head and moves her hand to the back of his neck, deepening their kiss. And he follows by placing his hand protectively on her back and waist, pulling her closer to-

"Oww!"

 Loid jerks backward, releasing his grip on her back. He feels Yor lean her head at the crook of his neck and grimaces while controlling her breath most likely to ease the sudden jolts of pain. He then caresses her cheek and whispers, "Sorry…"

She chuckles breathily. "S'kay…just don't touch that part for a time being…"

Cursing for getting swept away in the moments that he forgot the most important matter, Loid then places his hand on her forehead. He's glad that her flushing face doesn't mean any rise in temperature, but it doesn't mean that she doesn't need her rest. 

Focusing back to the very first reason he wanted her to stay, he gently asks her, "It's still very early. How about you get some more rest?"

He sees her gazing at her room, and returning to look at him. "Will you accompany me?"

Loid's smile blooms at the request. "Of course."

.

They soon find themselves settled in the same bed under the same blanket, and Loid sighs in contentment when Yor curls into him. He places his arms around her, making sure she gets all the comfort she needs.

Before sleep comes, however, Loid hears her whisper, "Hey, what's your real name?" 

He takes several seconds to contemplate before answering, "It's [----]."

"[----]?" Yor tries it in her mouth, and he just realizes how nice it is to finally have someone in the world knowing and calling him that again. 

She snuggles closer and says, "Goodnight, [----]."

He smiles fondly and kisses the top of her head, "Goodnight, Yor."

Loid thought it would take a longer time for him, as the professional spy who's been trained to always stay alert, to feel at ease when having someone else sleeping beside him. But having Yor at his side, feeling the warmth emanating from her body, and hearing her steady soft snore, lulls him to a deep peaceful slumber faster than he could ever imagine. And he knows that he can always fall asleep peacefully from now on, with her in his arms, in the comfort of their home.

.

Loid awakens when the bright late morning sun pierces through his closed eyes. 

He yawns and tries to stretch, but something weighs down his arm. He looks to his side and upon finding his wife still sleeping with such a content and peaceful face, he eases into a bright smile. 

He intends to return back to sleep, when all of a sudden Anya bursts into the room, "Papa!! We're la-"

"Ssshh!!" Loid puts his finger on his mouth, and Anya clasps her mouth. 

He then sees how his daughter looks at him and his sleeping wife alternately several times, before pointing at him and whispering, "Papa and Mama are…?"

He whispers, "Yes, Anya…" 

His daughter whispers gasps in glee, and it makes him chuckle. 

He then gestures at her to come and cuddle with her parents, which Anya complies with immediately. 

Before long, Bond also enters the room, nuzzling his snout at him. Loid pats his head, allowing him to stay.

With his family unit complete, Loid decides to continue his slumber, for once ignoring both work and missions. 

All repercussions of this new information, all adjustments to their plans to ensure the success of the current mission, or any reports done several hours later wouldn't make the war suddenly erupt anyway. 

Oh, but he will make sure to ask Yor about their next date plan so it will be to her liking, as soon as she fully recovers. 

Contented with his plan, the man then lazily stretches and wraps his arms around his family, and continues his morning nap.