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Loid Forger, known in the spy world as Agent Twilight, knocked on the door of his adoptive daughter. “Anya? Are you ready for school?”
It wasn’t uncommon for her to occasionally oversleep. However, this was the latest it had ever happened and he would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn’t a little irritated. Habits like this were not good ones to keep if the priority was earning Stella. Eden Academy wasn’t likely to take tardiness very well, and since neither he nor Yor owned a car, the school bus was the only method of transport to her there that wouldn’t make her late for walking.
When the child hadn’t responded to him, he decided to open the door. What he found, however, was not what he expected.
Anya lay in her bed, being watched over by the penguin he’d won her at the aquarium. In comparison to it’s gargantuan size, Anya herself looked dwarfed. A tiny doll- and a frail one at that. Her face was two shades too pale for her normal, cheeks flushed with fever that caused the slight knock of the headboard of the bed against the wall as she shivered with chills. It was easily evident to him that she was ill.
This was a situation that he hadn’t been fully ready for. Though he’d read the appropriate literature and possessed enough medical knowledge to get by, something told him that this situation was one that couldn’t be prepared for. It could only be experienced, and he felt himself grimace at the likelihood of what was to come. Being sick as an adult was no picnic, but being an adult in charge of a sick child seemed far worse. The likelihood of catching the illness along with taking care of the child and oneself was far more pressuring.
I can’t send her to school like this.
The thought, one clearly not her own, woke Anya from her feverish dream. When her eyes opened, the first thing she saw was Papa standing over her, looking worried.
“Papa?” She rasped, letting out a slight cough.
Papa’s hand, cool and smooth, rested on her forehead. “It looks like you’ve caught a cold.”
“Sorry.” She said, sniffing.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He promised, and gave a soft and reassuring pat to her head.
She’s burning up. I can’t send her to school with a temperature this high. That’s another chance at a Stella down. If I want to complete this mission she needs to get better fast. Somebody has to take care of her. But I can’t get a babysitter with this little notice, and maintaining this family façade means going to work. I don’t think it would be right to ask Yor to stay with her alone since she’s supposed to be my daughter, and I can’t just take a day off of the operation to care for her. WISE keeps sending me on extra missions and I can’t just tell them to stop sending them. What to do…
His musings were interrupted by the feeling of a small hand moving to touch the hand he had on the bed that was currently holding him up. Looking up, Anya’s eyes bored into him, emerald pools of tears. Dammit.
“Papa, will you make it better?” She asked softly, before a fit of coughing overcame her.
Loid hesitated a mere moment, before his internal resolve crumbled. Putting a smile on his face, he looked to her.
“I’ll do my best.” He said, and found himself enjoying the giggle she gave him at the words she usually directed to him being flipped on her. “Try and get some rest for now. I’ll get you some water and medicine. Do you want any food?”
At the mention, he swore he could see Anya’s skin go green. “No thank you.”
“Alright.” He said, head turning as he saw Yor in the doorway.
“Is everything okay?” She asked, already dressed in her uniform for work.
“Anya caught a bit of a cold.” Loid told her, and watched her face grow concerned.
“Poor thing. I can take today off if you need me to?”
“I appreciate that. But I can do it today. At least one of us should go to work. If she’s not feeling well tomorrow, then you can take a turn. I’ve been meaning to take a day off every now and then.”
“If you’re sure. Do you want me to make her some hot cocoa before I go?”
“If you have the time, sure. But if you need to eat and get to work on time, I can handle it.”
“It’s no trouble. I can have it ready in a few minutes.” She said, walking off.
With that settled, at least, Loid moved to get her medicine. Getting her to take it would be easier with the hot cocoa, he told himself. He should have thought of that sooner.
From his spot on the couch, Bond Forger raised his head at the sound of the clinking of cups in the kitchen. Was it breakfast already? Hopping down from his spot, he gave a wide yawn and stretched, before shaking himself out and walking to the kitchen. His usual bowl and water, however, were empty. Oh. Right. Now he remembered. Anya was sick today, so the humans would delay his breakfast. Ah, well. At least he could keep Anya company. So, going into her room, he hopped up onto the foot of her bed, and curled up on it, knowing his fur and warmth would help with her cold.
In the kitchen, Loid had just readied her medicine, as Yor poured the hot cocoa into a mug.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” She asked. “You’ve been wearing yourself out. I can’t imagine this will help that.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s Anya you should be worried about. Not me.” He said with a chuckle.
“I have her hot cocoa right here.” She said, getting a saucer for the cup and setting it down, before doing it again with the cup itself. “Oh, I meant to put in those little marshmallows she likes. Let me just-“
Her sentence was cut off at the feeling of warmth. She looked to see her hand and Loid’s touching his fingers wrapped around hers as they would have been around the cup, and the pair of them looked at one another just a second too long before pulling back, blushes growing on their faces.
“Sorry.” She said.
“No need to apologize.” He promised.
Unbeknownst to them, however, Anya was getting enjoyment from their thoughts in that moment. Though she wasn’t entirely sure what had just transpired, the resulting thoughts were enough to make her smile.
Were her hands always that warm? Or was it just the hot cocoa?
Wow. His grip was strong. Even for me. That’s unexpected.
She tried not to giggle at the thought and instead focused on the comforting heat that Bond seemed to radiate, helping to ease her chills.
It wasn’t more than a minute later that Mama came in.
“Mama.” Anya smiled.
“How are you feeling?” She asked.
“Cold.”
“The hot cocoa will help with that. I have to get to work but when I get home we can do something fun together.”
“We can watch Spy Wars?” She asked, hopefully.
Mama smiled at her. “Sounds good. Feel better and I’ll be home as soon as I can.” She said, beginning to back up out of the room.
“Bye Mama.” Anya gave what had to be the most pitiful wave she’d ever seen as Yor waved back with a sad little smile.
“Bye Anya.” She said. Moving to turn around, however, she found herself bumping into Loid. It was perhaps only their shared quick reflexes that kept the cocoa and syringe of medicine he held from spilling out onto the floor- though it did not stop them from bumping into one another’s chests.
At this, Anya found herself amused yet again by their thoughts.
I don’t think I’ve ever been close enough to her before to smell her shampoo. Is that peaches? No… It almost smells like the flowers in the park.
He’s so fast. He didn’t even spill a drop of that cocoa on the carpet. I can’t remember ever seeing someone do that. I don’t think I’ve ever been this clumsy with anyone, either. What is wrong with me?
But nothing was wrong, and Anya knew it. This was flirting. Silent flirting with each other. She watched the two of them blush, make unnecessary apologies, and then skitter off with embarrassment. It was their way. But, of course, if she was to have hers, they would be flirting more often. Unfortunately, however, some words from Papa brought her right out of her joy and straight down into a funk.
“Okay, Anya. Time to take some medicine to get your fever down, and then you can have your hot cocoa.” He said, setting the cup on her nightstand and holding the syringe.
She wrinkled her nose up at the red looking goop in the syringe. “Do I have to take it, Papa?”
“You do if you want to get better.”
You do so the mission can continue.
Trembling and trying to swallow her fear, Anya nodded. “Okay.” She said, tears at the corner of her eyes as Papa leaned over her, sticking the syringe in her mouth. It was far more accurate to measure liquid medication doses this way, and hopefully would mean less taste that she would have to endure.
“I’m going to push it on three, and then you swallow as quickly as you can okay? That way you won’t taste it so much.”
At this she nodded.
“One… Two… Three!”
Anya bravely did her part and swallowed, just as the plunger was pressed. The valiant effort not to gag was almost enough to make Loid smile.
“Well done, Anya.” He said, and handed her the cup of cocoa. The child took a gulp of it anxiously, and seemed to settle both under the comforting warmth of the bed and the heat of the hot cocoa in her hands. When he got a bit worried she would fall asleep again, he set the cup back on its saucer. And though she normally would have tried to straighten up, to prove she could do it and be helpful, today the small effort seemed too great for her to bear. “Get some rest now. I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.”
He turned to leave, but her small voice called for him.
“Papa wait!” She said, coughing twice.
He looked behind himself at her. “What is it?”
“Can I have Mr. Chimera? Please?” She asked.
The request inherently confused him. Not because it was difficult but because the toy hardly ever left her side. Glancing around the bed, he didn’t see it anywhere, before he spied it underneath. Picking it up, he handed it to her, and saw her smile.
“Get some rest now.” He said, and Anya nodded tiredly.
“Okay, Papa.”
He took one last look at her to be sure her eyes were indeed closed, before he quietly shut the door behind him so that only a sliver of light remained. Bond could nudge it open to leave but it wouldn’t be too bright for her.
Now that she was taken care of, it was time to do some chores. But first, he would call into work to let them know he wouldn’t be coming in today. As he typed his message in Morse code to WISE about being unable to take extra missions today due to maintaining operation STRIX, he got on the phone and dialed into his fake place of work, letting his Secretary know he would be out for the day. When both were communicated and had received appropriate responses, he called Eden Academy to let them know Anya wouldn't be coming to school. Afterward he got up, ready to set to work. Time to get some chores done. Then maybe he could relax- if only for a while. The sting to get to and investigate Donovan Desmond could wait for today. Right now, he had to focus on keeping things going until Anya was better so that they could make a smooth transition back to school.
Saving Anya’s plate in the fridge, he set to work getting Bond his food and water, and cleaning the rest of the dishes in the sink as quietly as he could manage. Though it was ordinarily something Yor did around the house, between Anya’s illness, her needing to eat, and going to work, it simply hadn’t been possible to manage in time. On days like this, he would pick up the slack without complaint. It wasn’t as though Yor hadn’t offered to stay. But the operation demanded their cover as a normal family not be blown. And doing more around the house while his wife was away and his child was ill fell under that category.
When the dishes were washed, dried, and put away, he went about starting a chicken broth for soup. While it was true that Anya was notoriously picky as an eater, there were some advantages to being sick in that regard. Namely: a stuffy nose impacted the ability to taste. It was a one time opportunity to try and give her a bit of a healthy variety in her diet and damned if he wasn’t going to take it. If she liked it now, there might be a chance that she would like it after she was better and then-
He stopped mid-chop on his carrot. What the hell was he thinking?
Little moments like this had begun to plague him recently. He’d always prided himself on his dedication to his missions, on his ability to put them first at all costs. But more often than not these days, he often found himself caught up in things like that. The small, mundane details of raising a child and having a family. And every time, he had to give himself a firm scolding. This was a mission. Not his life. The mission came first, the people in it always collateral damage. So why on earth did this feel different?
Perhaps it was simply because this was the first mission that required him to depend on others. It wasn’t much of a stretch. He was used to going it alone- he had been since childhood. The first time he was on a mission in close quarters with someone was bound to leave it’s mark. It was going to be difficult and awkward and frustrating- and it was. But it was also full of surprises he’d enjoyed, unexpected bouts of pride, and the surprising enjoyment of the company he kept. All of these things were true. But they still couldn’t encompass the whole of what he felt.
For all of these years, he’d been changing himself to fit the mission given to him, and he’d done so without complaint. But today was the first time that he considered the idea that the mission he was on was changing him.
He resumed his chopping to make broth and threw everything into the pot. When it was going at a rolling boil, he turned it down to a simmer, and put the lid on. With the dishes cleaned and soup begun, the only thing left to do was measure out another dose of medicine for Anya. Everything else could wait until then.
After he’d measured another dose of medicine he sat on the couch and opened the paper. Instead of looking for missions, however, he read it for the sake of reading it. It was a rare time when he could simply catch up on the news, and he intended to savor it for all it was worth.
He made it to the business section of the paper before his senses, honed to perfection, caught something. A faint sound. He waited a moment to see if it had simply been imagined, as that did happen on occasion when he was alone like this, but then it changed. He heard it again, and unless he was mistaken, it was crying. Setting the paper down, he went to Anya’s room, and opened the room’s door, only to see Anya a mess of tears.
“Anya?” He asked.
Upon hearing him, she reached out for him. “Papa!”
As soon as he got within her reach, her arms wrapped around his neck like a vice.
“Please don’t leave me, Papa!” She wailed. “I’m sorry I don’t get grades, and I’m sorry I wasn’t nice to Damian. I’m sorry! I’ll be good! Please don’t leave!”
Twilight found himself bewildered by the sudden change in her behavior. What on earth had triggered such a reaction from her? Not unaware of his quandary, but also letting it wait for a moment, her arms went a bit tighter around him as she babbled on, desperate to expunge her guilt.
“All I wanted was a family! Everyone else thought I was weird. Even the people who had me before I was at the Orphanage. And I just… I just want to be… loved."
The last word was said quietly, but it seemed to ring in Loid’s ears like a bell that wouldn’t stop ringing. “Anya…” He said, attempting to find some semblance of speech, but he felt his mouth dry up.
Her small frame trembled against him. “Please… Don’t leave."
His arms wound around her automatically, and for once, he wasn’t planning a speech in his mind or worrying about the correct thing to say when he spoke to her. Tears of small children were one of the few things that had the power to truly touch him. Despite his love for logic, and his genius intellect, there were some things that simply couldn’t be dissected. Feelings were one of them.
“Nobody is going anywhere.” He said. “I understand that what you have gone through before has been awful. And it makes you feel alone. But you aren’t alone anymore.”
“Y-You’re not…” She sniffed, trying to calm herself. “You’re not l-l-leaving?”
“No. Now what brought this on?” He asked, and offered her a tissue, which she took, blowing her nose.
“They left.” She said quietly.
“Who?” He asked.
“Mommy and Daddy…”
It took him less than a second to jump to where she was already. She must have been dreaming about her parents. From before.
Wordlessly, he put a hand on her head, not quite knowing what to say. He’d never heard her mention them before now.
“They didn’t want to l-leave but Daddy had to go and fight in the war and Mommy couldn’t take care of me and do work at the same time. She promised she’d come back for me when Daddy came home but they… they never…” She said, and quietly sobbed into her hands.
He held her just a bit tighter. The moment from the interview flashed through his mind, the terrible question that had been asked to her replaying in his mind again.
If you had to decide between your new mother and your old mother, whom would you choose?
He’d seen firsthand how deeply the question had hurt her, but he hadn’t known the whole story. Now that he did, he felt himself feeling a bit of the same protectiveness he had in that instant. He could recall himself crying often as a child after his mother had died, but that at least gave some level of closure. Anya would forever remain waiting for people who likely wouldn’t come back to her. And that was wholly unfair to her.
In the next instant there was a crashing wave of guilt. All his life he’d been able to give himself to his missions, and there was no issue with it. He’d gone from place to place as needed, a vagabond traveling through life with not even a name to hold onto. He’d fit the mold of every persona he’d been given, making and breaking relationships as though it were no different than making a piece of art and throwing it away because it wasn’t good enough. But for the first time, this mission had real potential to hurt this little girl who was, for all intents and purposes, his partner in this. He understood now, the real weight of the job in a way he hadn’t before. It was sitting in his lap. What would become of this child when his mission ended?
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” He said, in a tone he felt was most unlike him. “I’m sure they loved you very much and didn’t want to go.”
“Really?” Came her squeak in his ear.
“Really.” He promised. “It must have been hard for them to leave someone as wonderful as you behind. But they were probably trying to think of what was best for you.”
He could recall trying to tell himself the same thing as a child when his mother had passed and his father had disappeared. He hadn’t believed it himself then, but he hoped the words were sincere enough to let her believe it.
And though Anya knew that it was something he’d often told himself due to her abilities, the way he’d spoken to her was different than usual. The tone was sincere, in a way he hadn’t quite been with her before. And that was enough to make her believe him.
She sniffled, still shaking. “Love you, Papa.”
Loid felt his heart close like a fist around those simple words. It had been well over a decade since he’d heard anyone mean them to him sincerely. But he knew enough about Anya to know that she did. He felt a lump form in his throat as a swell of almost painful emotion tried to breach his calm demeanor. He shouldn’t say it back. He knew it. Emotional attachment wasn’t good for the mission. But before he could stop himself, the words were out.
“I love you too, Anya.”
At those words, the little girl seemed to relax, and sniffled.
Carefully, he set a hand on her forehead.
She’s still on fire. No wonder she had a dream like that. I need to cool her down, quickly. Before it gets any worse.
“How about a bath?” He asked. “You can’t be comfortable in those clothes.”
“Can I have bubbles?” She asked, smargadine eyes boring into his.
Loid smiled at her. “Sure.”
At this, she finally smiled, and he felt as though an invisible weight had been lifted from him.
“Can we play in the bath?”
“If you can.” He nodded. “Just don’t push yourself too hard. Can you get yourself undressed and into the bathtub on your own?”
“I think so.” She said, and moved to get up from his lap, only to promptly grab onto his leg for dear life when a wave of dizziness struck her so hard she nearly fell down. Papa’s arms got behind her, first helping her to her feet and then picking her up to be carried.
“I’ll help you today.” He said, and carried her to the bathroom, not even waiting for her nod in return.
Anya was nearly putty in his arms by the time he’d reached the bathroom. When he’d carefully set her down atop the toilet, he got the bath ready, making it tepid to lower her fever, but not cold so she wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. When he’d gotten the temperature right, he added the bubble bath. He didn’t give much thought to the actions, finding them robotic in nature. But when he took a look at Anya, he found himself thinking again.
Poor kid. She looks miserable.
Between her pale face, flushed cheeks, runny nose, and teary eyes, his assessment had been both emotional and logical. When he saw her swaying in her position, he was quick to steady her, before helping her undress. It wasn’t something he particularly cared to do- in fact Yor was usually the one who handled this- but in extenuating circumstances, such things were warranted.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom before your bath?” He asked, and she gave a nod as he helped wrap a towel around her to keep the cold at bay. “Do you think you can stay on the toilet by yourself or are you too dizzy?”
“I’m a big girl Papa. I can do it.” She said with a determined nod.
“Okay. I’m going to get you a change of clothes. Then we’ll get you into the bath.”
“Okay.” She said.
And though slightly hesitant to leave, he was more hesitant to leave her shivering in the cold after her bath. So, he hurriedly got her a second pair of pajamas and underwear, before he booked it back into the bathroom. A mere moment before Anya seemed to sway dangerously on the toilet, and he steadied her.
“I thought you said you could stay on?” He asked, attempting to take a teasing tone with her, but her small, disappointed sigh wiped any smile off of his face quickly.
“Sorry, Papa.” She said, mournfully. It was then that he realized her nose was bleeding, and quickly got some toilet paper to help take care of it.
“Maybe we should take you to see a doctor.” He said, but was unprepared for her reaction.
In a burst of hysterical tears she clutched at his shirt. “NO!” She said, and it was the first time he’d heard her yell in that way. “Doctors don’t help! Doctors hurt! No doctors, Papa! Please no!” She babbled in a rush, and was surprised when his arms wound around her again, in an attempt to calm her down.
“Okay. Alright. I won’t take you to see a doctor if you start to improve. But if you get any worse, we’ll have to take you.” He said, and she sniffled and gave him a nod.
He turned off the water and set her inside it, unsurprised to hear the chattering of her teeth.
“I know it’s difficult but the water being cool will help bring your fever down.” He promised.
“It’s cold.” She shuttered.
“It won’t be when you start to play.” He promised. As he’d hoped, the reminder made her smile.
Then, he focused on bathing her, which proved to be quite the challenge. However, rather than being annoyed by it as he thought he might have been, he found himself gladdened that she was distracted. He could clean her off without much of a fuss.
When she was cleaned, he wrapped her in a towel, draining the water from the tub before he helped her out of it. When she’d been dressed, he bundled her in a blanket for warmth and settled her on the couch with Mr. Chimera and her beloved penguin, before he put on Spy Wars. Then, he took a moment to check on the chicken broth. After skimming the foam it had accumulated, he sat on the couch with Anya, surprised when she cuddled into him with ease. Setting a hand on her head, he hadn’t noticed when she’d fallen asleep. When he did, however, he felt something stir inside of him.
He could recall his own feelings of loneliness and isolation as a child of a war-torn family. After a point there had been no one to care for him, so he’d had to learn to care for himself. The first time he’d been ill without a parent, he’d often found himself wishing that someone was there to help care for him. But he’d accepted that no one would come shortly after. It had strengthened him in some ways, helping him to achieve both the knowledge and independence necessary for his current job. But seeing Anya now gave an odd sense of fulfillment to him. If someone had been there to help him as a child, he hoped it would have looked something like this.
He hadn’t realized he’d been smiling until then, but found he didn’t mind it at all, content to sit with her for the time being. He could check on the broth a bit later. It could wait. But she could not.
He considered the mission he’d been given in that space of time. All of this had been done to get closer to the target. And that was still true. But something felt different now in a way he couldn’t quite explain. And for a brief moment, he wondered if he could still bring himself to let all this go when it ended. To morph yet again into another name and face when the identity he’d currently held was attempting to worm it’s way into his heart.
Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t so much this identity as it was Anya herself. But that, he knew, was a recipe for even more danger. This child would be targeted, kidnapped, made into a pawn of political power. Could he really bring himself to do that to this little girl, all for the selfish want of keeping her? It was the first time he’d realized what her parents must have gone through, and his own father by extension. And for a brief moment, his heart went out to them. He would finish this mission with the due diligence it deserved. But the question of what was to come afterward was unnerving to him. In that instant, he didn’t recognize himself. But perhaps that was a good thing. Because if he could do this without any thought into what this child may go through on his behalf, he might have considered himself a monster. The child was already a pawn in his game for peace. And she was far too young to recognize it.
He staved off his sense of self loathing, and instead focused on the sound of Anya’s breathing. Her breath was a hot puff of summer air on his knee, but it didn’t matter all that much. She was safe here, and he was going to ensure it.
Once or twice, he’d nearly fallen asleep, but he kept himself awake, watching the show on the television. It was all ludicrous and made up spy content, which was easy enough to pick apart. But he supposed for a child, it was entertaining enough.
It was roughly an hour later that Anya began to stir. Yawning, she looked up at him sleepily.
“Feeling any better?” He asked, and she gave a small nod.
“I’m hungry, Papa.”
“The soup should be ready in just a bit. I just need to add some noodles to the pot.” He said, getting up to do so. “And after we eat it will be time for some more medicine.”
That was the last thing she’d wanted to do right now, but she’d nodded. Papa was being different today in a way that she liked, and she wasn’t about to jeopardize it. Even if it meant taking yucky medicine.
“The soup will be ready in a few minutes.” He’d promised, once he’d added the noodles to the pot. She nodded, and decided to ask for something she’d wanted for a long time.
“Papa?"
“Hmmm?”
“Will you tell me a story?”
“A story?” He repeated. He had expected that question, but not until bedtime.
“Uh huh.” She said. “Can you tell me a spy story?”
A spy story, huh?
“Alright.” He said, taking a seat next to her. Accordingly, she scrambled into his lap, and he felt brief surprise at the fact that he was getting used to such a thing. Tamping it down, he cleared his throat. “Once upon a time, there was a spy named Brian.”
“Brian?"
“Mhm.” He nodded. “He was very good at his job, and he used his skills to try and help people.”
“Really?”
“Indeed. And one day, he got an assignment. He had to go get some pictures of a man who was doing some bad things to a company. He was stealing lots of money, so the people who hired him wanted to prove that he didn’t deserve to work in his big office. The people who asked him for his help wanted to make sure he could get fired so he couldn’t hurt the company anymore.”
“What did Brian do?”
“Well, Brian was very good at making himself look different. So he put on lots of disguises. Like masks.”
“And makeup?”
“Sometimes.” He said, smiling a little. “So once he got dressed up, he went into the office dressed as an intern.”
“What’s an inhern?”
“Intern.” He corrected lightly. “That’s someone who’s never done a job like that before, but they need the experience. And he worked under the man he was trying to catch.”
“Was the man bad?”
“Well, he wasn’t very nice. But most people who are very rich or have big important jobs aren’t."
“Like Damian!”
“Yes, like- Wait, I thought he was your friend?”
“Uh…” Anya paused. “Well sometimes he’s mean and I don’t like that. Even if we are friends.”
“Right.” Loid said, and blinked. “So Brian had to prove that he was doing the bad things that the company said.”
“How did he do it?” Anya asked, wide eyed.
“Well, he put on another disguise, and pretended to be a janitor for the building.”
“How come he couldn’t just be the inhern?”
“Because interns don’t get a lot of privileges. They can’t do things like go into other offices or things like that. But Janitors are special, because they get keys to the building. So one night Brian snuck into the security office as a janitor, and turned off all the cameras in the building. And he used those special keys to get into the man’s office, and he got into his computer.
Anya looked at him, stars in her eyes with awe. “How did he do it?”
“Because he was an intern, he was able to watch the man long enough to figure out his password on the computer. And just to be sure he put a little special program in it that could tell him what was written on the computer that day. But that little program couldn’t tell him what he needed to know. So he had to go right to the computer. And after he got inside, he found out that all the money they wanted proof of was going into the man’s personal bank account. So he took pictures, shut down the computer, and turned all the cameras back on, before he escaped the building, and let the real janitor do his job."
“The real janitor was there?”
“Oh yes. Brian needed to make a distraction for him so that he could go get the information, so he made a big spill happen in the cafeteria. It gave him enough time to get to the man’s office without anyone noticing, and to get out.”
“Did it work? Did the bad guy go away?”
“Yes he did, Anya. The next day Brian gave the reports to the person who hired him, and the man was fired soon after.”
“So cool!” She said, eyes bright and cheerful, and Loid found himself grateful for it. “I like your stories, Papa. Can I have another one later?”
“Sure.” He nodded. “How about we get some lunch and you try and eat something?”
“I’ll try.” She promised, and was pleased when he smiled at her.
Leaving Mr. Chimera behind for the moment, she sat at the table, and waited, before Papa brought over two big bowls of soup.
“This should help with your cold.” He promised.
“What is it?” She asked.
"Chicken soup.”
“I’ve never had that before.”
“I think you might like it if you give it a try.”
“I will. But after it stops being so hot.”
At this, he smiled. “Good idea.”
When the soup had cooled enough to eat, Anya tried a bite. Loid studied her expression, and she seemed pleased by it. He tried not to let his relief show on his face as she gladly slurped the noodles.
“Good soup!” She said.
“I’m glad you like it.” He said. “If you can’t eat it all, I’ll save it for you for later.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
“After your medicine, is there anything you’d like to do?”
“Can we draw?” She asked.
“Sure.” He nodded.
Not like I’m very good at it, but I suppose that doesn’t matter.
“Papa, if I draw my pictures will you color them?”
His eyebrow raised a fraction, but he nodded. “I think that could work.”
“I’m gonna make the prettiest pictures. Even ones for you and Mama.” She said, determinedly.
“I think you will.” He nodded. “I noticed you like to draw a lot. Have you always liked it?”
“I drew lots in the orphanage. With chalk a lot.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Sometimes the other kids would make them go away and stomp on them. It made me sad.”
“You must have worked hard on them.” He said softly.
She nodded, giving a sad hum. “I used to draw Mommy and Daddy, but after too many times when other kids tried erasing them, I stopped. It’s getting hard to remember them now. I’m scared I won’t be able to anymore.”
He was surprised at how deeply he felt those words. He could recall a similar fear in himself as a child, right around the time he’d begun forgetting how his mother’s laugh sounded. That fear evaporated after a while, but he could recall how it lingered in him. Even so, he’d been older than Anya. And her fear would be far harder to quell.
“I used to worry about that too.” He said. “When my parents passed away.”
She looked at him. “Your Mama and Papa?”
He nodded. “But the thing I learned is that even if you do forget the small things, like how they looked or how they sounded, you don’t forget what they made you feel. It’s only if you forget that that you should worry.”
Her huge eyes stared up at him for a long moment, and for a moment he thought that he’d said something wrong. But then, Anya went around the table and gave him a hug.
“They must have loved you a lot. I bet they’re the ones who keep you safe when you’re… With a bad patient. It must make them happy that you help people.” She said, careful not to expose her knowledge of them.
For a moment, he couldn’t quite believe this small little girl had something like that. But then, the warmth flooded into him, and he smiled.
“Thank you, Anya.”
That was the sweetest thing she’s ever said to me.
“You’re welcome, Papa.” She said.
“Are you all finished with your lunch?” He asked, noticing the bowl half empty.
“Uh huh.”
“I’ll get your medicine and some paper and crayons, and you can draw while I do the dishes.”
“Then we can draw together?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
With that, he went and retrieved her medicine, before giving it to her. She bravely swallowed her medicine, the praise for taking it given by Loid serving to help quell the bitterness of the cherry flavor. And when he’d returned with her crayons and paper, she wasted no time beginning to draw.
Loid kept half an eye on her as he did the dishes. Mercifully, the cleanup was almost negligible, but it still existed. When he’d finished, he went over to Anya and checked her temperature.
Her fever seems to be going down. What a relief. Maybe she can go back to school tomorrow and put Operation STRIX back on.
“Papa, are you gonna help color?”
“I am.” He nodded. “What’s the first thing you need me to color?”
At the question, Anya shoved a rather good rendition of Bondman to his hands. “You color Bondman while I made some top secret drawings.”
“Alright.”
“You can’t look at the paper, you gotta pinkie promise!” She said, holding out her pinky finger to him.
What on earth is so important that I have to do this?
“Alright, I won’t look. I promise.” He said, locking his pinky with hers.
Seemingly satisfied, she gave a nod and set to work on her next project, Papa next to her coloring silently. Unlike her thoughts, which were directed toward the right colors to use, Papa’s were much more interesting. At first, it had all been boring work stuff, but then, she caught one that made her happy.
This sort of looks like the color of Yor’s eyes.
As she listened further, she tried not to laugh.
Why was that the first thing I thought of? It’s not even that close. And why do I even know that? Bondman doesn’t even wear this kind of red. He’s always in all brown and black. I can’t believe I actually know this.
Beside him, Anya giggled. Loid raised an eyebrow. “What’s got you laughing?” He asked, curiously.
“I’m just so excited to show you my picture!”
“You mean I get to see it when it’s done?”
“Mhm!”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
And to getting off of the floor. This is fine for eating but my back doesn’t appreciate the lack of support.
“Papa, can you color bondman from the couch?”
“I really wanna make your picture extra special and I know you can’t see it from the couch in case I need to get extra.”
“Alright.” He said, and gratefully moved to the couch to sit. Anya, meanwhile, remained happy despite her illness, even humming a nonsensical tune at points when she was happy.
He’d long since finished coloring Bondman in his apropos brown and black colors, and had simply taken to watching the show for the time being. Out of the blue, however, Anya’s voice piped up.
“All done!” She said.
“Does this mean I can see what you made now?” He asked, and she gave a nod, getting up from the floor and practically shoving two pieces of paper into his face.
In a child’s clumsy hand, the words “Thank You, Papa” were written on a folded piece of paper, with a flower drawn on the front. The sight of it surprised him, and he looked at the other paper, which held a crude drawing of himself and Anya holding hands near what looked to be the park.
“I wanted to make Papa a present for making me better.” She said. “That picture is when we went to the park and Mama was chasing the purse man but we were still up high."
This is what she remembers?
Hearing his thoughts, she hurriedly continued on. “I like it because you still held onto me when I was feeling not good, and you helped make it better. Like now.”
Oh…
“This was very thoughtful Anya. Thank you. Would it be okay if this picture went up on the refrigerator?”
Anya’s eyes seemed to light up with happiness, and she gave a nod. Going over to it, he put the picture on the fridge.
“Papa?”
“Hmmm?”
“Are you going to take your card too?”
“Of course.” He said. “I’m going to put it someplace very special so I don’t lose it.”
Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Anya went on to draw a picture for Yor. When she wasn’t paying attention, he slipped into his bedroom, and set the card down to put in that special place just a bit later.
When he’d done that, he returned to the couch, and sat down, waiting for Anya to finish coloring. When she had, she seemed happy to hop onto the couch and snuggle with him again.
“Papa, will you read to me?”
“Sure. What do you want me to read?”
“Something happy.”
Happy? Do we even have any stories that are happy? I thought every fairytale was supposed to end in tragedy.
“I like the storybook in my room. Can you get it, Papa?”
“Alright.” He said, as she gathered up Mr. Chimera and her penguin to snuggle. When papa returned with her promised book, she settled into his lap and snuggled with them as Papa began to read.
“Once upon a time, in a land far away…”
Leaning onto his chest for support, she listened to both his voice steadily reading her the story she’d asked for, and the soothing rhythm of Papa’s heartbeat. She didn’t want to sleep again, but she didn’t really want to do anything else. It was too hard to pay attention to anything- even Bondman. So listening to Papa read while getting some snuggles seemed to be the best course of action.
She tried not think at all, merely listening to the sound of his heartbeat and hearing his voice was enough. It was the safest place she could imagine being at the moment, and for a time she was able to almost slip into a meditative sort of state, where there was nothing around her, only disturbed when she felt something against her hand. A cold nose.
Opening her eyes, having nearly closed them, she saw Bond sitting in front of them, seemingly urging her to look up. When she did, she realized Papa was asleep. He must have worn himself out taking care of her. Well… Maybe that was a good thing. She could take care of him too, a little. So, she put the blanket she’d been wrapped in over them both with Bond’s help, and allowed herself to rest.
When Yor arrived home not too long afterward, she smiled at the sight of them together.
Looks like they took care of each other while I was gone.
Going over to the pair of them, she tucked the blanket around them both, and let them sleep for the moment.
The next morning, Loid Forger was happy to see Anya up and eating breakfast. Having already eaten in order to get an early start, he down, paper in hand, he looked at her.
“Feeling better today?” He asked smiling.
“Lots!” She chirped.
“Good. Are you going to school today?”
“Her fever is still a bit too high for her to go, so I’ll be calling into work today to stay with her.” Yor said, setting down a cup of coffee for him.
“Thank you, Yor."
“Of course, it’s nothing.”
“Mama is gonna play dolls with me!” Anya cheered.
“That sounds like a good idea.” Loid said, smiling. “Is she going to read to you too?”
To his surprise, Anya looked at him. “Reading is special for Papa.”
And though his surprise lasted longer than an instant, he smoothed his features quickly. “Right. I forgot.”
“We’ll be looking into some herbal teas that might help with her cold.” Yor said.
“That sounds fun.” He said, and smiled. “Good luck you two.” He said, before finishing his black coffee. “I’m going into the office.” He said, as Yor collected the cups from the table.
“Have a great day!” She called.
“Bye, Papa!”
“See you both later.” He said, and picked up his briefcase.
Walking to Berlint General Hospital, he said his usual hellos to his coworkers, before he went into his office for just a moment, opening his briefcase on the desk. Inside was much of his equipment, with one exception. The card Anya had made for him sat nestled between everything, carefully set to ensure it wouldn’t be damaged, as he sat it proudly atop his desk. Smiling just a little, he shut his briefcase, and headed off to work.