It occasionally happened that spies made jokes about "the end of their careers" - though not often, spies seldom got a chance to gather and to exchange pleasantries, they were decidedly solitary creatures after all. However, as he walked down the broad white stairs to the Desmond's gravelly driveway, Loid Forger suddenly recalled making a stupid remark about it once, more than six years ago, after a briefing at the WISE headquarters in Westalis.
Now that he remembered, it came to him with unusual clarity: The briefing had been for five operatives, including him, who were about to be placed in high risk environments. It was a rainy day, interlaced with patches of sun breaking through the billowing clouds, wet streaks from dripping umbrellas and raincoats turning the linoleum into a slippery menace. The briefing was held on the seventh floor, in the spacious room with the large windows facing West. It was one he particularly liked because of the view it afforded over the gently curving river and the elegant new footbridge that shone so brightly even on a gloomy day. It filled him with pride that his life in the shadows ensured the carefree, normal lives of the ant-sized people hurrying from one river bank to the other.
Peace was such a precarious, brittle thing. If the people in Westalis' Capital were able to forget that, Twilight and his colleagues were doing their jobs right.
That afternoon, four weathered operatives had taken them through a variety of threat scenarios, drilling them on the corresponding emergency protocols, which included instructions about how to end one's own life before the enemy could extract classified information that would jeopardize other operations and operatives. Apart from a few details, nothing about it was particularly surprising: their basic training already included standard operating procedures for all kinds of precarious situations. And yet, the message was clear: the antes were upped. It was getting real.
"I will miss you," Midnight had winked at him with a small smile at the end of it, ever so briefly touching his hand as she walked the other way, hips swinging.
Earlier that day, she had roasted him close to tears during his latest psych evaluation. Despite their (unofficial) friendship, she never held back when she had to test him. Instead of begrudging her that, Loid admired her more for her strict, merciless professionalism. She was a role model, the best kind of spy he knew. The only blemish: She was paired with Moonshine for everything.
Maybe he was a little jealous. He would miss her too.
"Will you come visit me if I end my career?" He called after her, suppressing a fond chuckle deep in his chest. This was about the funniest thing he had ever said because "ending my career" was a euphemism for dying, but she had just been put in charge of WISE's "cleaning operations" and would be the one to hunt him down should he ever go rogue.
Only that she had not found it funny at all.
"Don't you ever say that again!" The fury on her face when she jerked around to yell at him was such a surprise, he took an instinctive step backwards and bumped his hip on a door frame.
They had never talked about it. Back then, he had simply swallowed his discomfort over seeing her lose her composure and walked away. His hip had bruised a little but surviving life as Twilight was so demanding, he had no time to dwell over past occurrences.
Today, the memory formed a lump in his throat. This, right here - it was the end, one way or another. Until a few days ago, Twilight had never even considered that he would have to decide how to end his career. Why would he have: Twilight was who he was, there was no other identity beside it that wasn't fake. But now...?
Twilight was unmasked. Twilight had to disappear.
What would he become?
A black limousine with a gently humming engine pulled up below, gravel crunching underneath its tires. The driver alighted swiftly and opened the back door for them. It was the same person who had brought them here, a middle-aged man with a large mustache, fitting his black uniform just so.
"Please come visit us again!" Melinda Desmond smiled, waving her small hand through the air. "Thank you once again for saving my boy, I am eternally grateful. And Anya, dear: You can come and play with Damian anytime you'd like. I want him to play with girls more often."
"Away as fast as Anya can," Anya murmured, waddling down the stairs on her short legs. She tripped - Loid managed to catch her arm and help her down.
"Is she really not going to mention the situation I put her husband in!?" Yor whispered to Loid, eying the bodyguards patrolling the perimeters of the house with apprehension.
"She may think he deserves it," Loid answered.
Remarkable that the Chairman of the National Unity Party hanging from one of his chandeliers without people scrambling to take him down wasn't even the weirdest thing about this afternoon.
Loid got in the car after Yor and Anya. Even though Melinda Desmond knew he was a spy for a foreign government, she had not called the SSS, had not exposed him to Yor and Anya, but let him go, just like that. What were the chances!? Or should he ask: what was the catch...
"Is your butler not around?" Loid asked the driver. If things went too smoothly, one better be very suspicious.
"What's a bootler?" Anya asked Yor.
"The new guy?" The man's brow furrowed. "I haven't seen him for a while. Why, sir? Was there anything amiss?"
Loid pondered the question for a moment. "No," he answered. "Nothing."
Everything.
He looked out of the window. Melinda Desmond was still standing outside her front door, waving goodbye.
"Chichi, Haha, Si-on boy can come play with us," Anya declared benevolently as the car pulled slowly away from the mansion. "I don't like his house and he doesn't like it either."
"That's very kind of you, Anya," Yor smiley at Anya. "I am sure he will appreciate your friendship."
"I will tell Si-on boy to walk his dog in the park with us when he comes back to school," Anya continued making plans, swinging her stubby legs. "He will see what a great big doggo Bond is, and he will be green with envy. That will help him forget about the horrible, horrible bear who wanted to eat him."
Yor and Loid exchanged glances over Anya's head. Their daughter was so perceptive sometimes.
"I hope his mother will bring him to the hospital," Loid sighed.
"Will you be able to make him feel better, Chichi?" Anya asked earnestly.
"My colleague specializes in the mental health of children," Loid evaded the question. I better not appear too gloomy, he decided, forcing a smile onto his face, pushing the unpleasant thoughts out of his head entirely. Anya was watching him too closely right now and she was perceptive for a child her age.
When they turned into the street winding down the hill, Loid opened the envelope Melinda Desmond had pressed into his hand, careful not to rip the paper. "You made the right choice," a small note read. And there they were: the receipts he had come for in the first place. Proof of Desmond's infidelity. Monthly payments. His mistress' name and her address.
So, you're not a complete failure, Twilight. Congratulations. You can leave with your pride intact and you can hope for peace. Even if everything else is in shambles.
Loid rapped at the partition between the driver and the passenger compartment.
"Yes, sir?" The driver asked politely after lowering it, turning his head only slightly in his direction to keep his eyes on the winding road.
"Could you take us to the corner of 7th and 41st street?" Loid asked. "I have urgent business to take care of."
"Certainly, sir," the driver nodded, putting up the window again.
"We're not going home?" Yor asked, fidgeting nervously with the rim of her dress.
"Not quite yet," Loid answered curtly. He was already breaking protocol, using a car and a driver who was paid by a woman who had unmasked him. He might as well break protocol some more.
"Is it because of what I did?" Yor squealed. "That's close to where the police station is!"
"Yor," Loid exclaimed. "You do not seriously believe I would turn you in for defending yourself against such a blackguard? I swear if he had touched you..."
"I don't want to be fake-married anymore!" Yor blurted out. "Loid-san, please marry me properly!"
"WHAT?" Loid felt his stomach do a precarious flip and then another in the opposite direction, then decided to start rolling like he had been flung onto a boat in the middle of a storm.
"Ohhhhhh," Anya's face turned sly and knowing. "Mama and Papa are going to be my real Mama and Papa."
Loid was far too flustered to contradict her. In fact, he was completely dumbfounded, staring at Yor's deeply red face with his mouth open. He had to look like a lunatic. He surely felt like one.
"I'm so sorry!" Yor cringed under his gaze and buried her burning face in her hands, "I shouldn't have been so forward, I know we have a different kind of arrangement! But... but I hate it when other women look at you like you're a tasty snack and smile at you with hunger and you are nice to them because that's who you are, but it also makes me wonder whether you wouldn't mind being snacked on by them! I hate it!"
"Papa! You cannot be someone else's snack!" Anya turned her accusing face in his direction.
Be properly married? Be a real family? She had to ask this of him now, of all possible times?
"I only want to be snacked on by you, Yor," Loid clumsily groped for Yor's hand. A hand with no ring, he realized with a pang. Of course, Yor had noticed Melinda's blatant - though probably fake - interest. And she had noticed he hadn't exactly discouraged it. Naturally, she had thought... and I almost did what she fears.
"So, if I could be properly married... it would be with you," he caressed her knuckles through the gloves, feeling a great sadness rise inside of him. I'm not Loid Forger. I can't have what he has.
"Is it... is it your first wife?" Yor asked timidly, avoiding his eyes. "I understand. You're not ready."
Definitely not the first wife. But definitely not ready.
"Yes," he lied, his throat constricting.
Anya glared at him like he was the lowliest of worms, Yor turned her face away and Loid wanted to die. I should tell her. I should tell her who I am, what I am. What difference does it make now?
"You know," he swallowed compulsively, "it's because..."
"You owe me no explanation, Loid-san," Yor let her head hang. "None, whatsoever. Please forget what I said."
His heart wanted to leave his chest, it hurt so much. "No, it's important." He met Anya's apprehensive eyes and swallowed. Wait. It would probably frighten the child too much, the truth. He could not let the consequences of his lies hurt them even more. "Let's talk about it some more after... after I do something very important for my job, alright?"
Yor just nodded and watched Anya cuddle up to her. Every child would feel anxious in a situation like this one, especially one who wasn't even properly adopted and had experienced being handed from foster family to foster family.
"It will be alright, Anya," he told her, putting his hand on her small shoulder. He didn't know how. But he would make it alright for her, it was the least that he could do.
"Chichi is a liar," she murmured tearily. "We girls have to stick together, men are not to be trusted."
###
Yor didn't know where to look, she felt so embarrassed. What had come over her?! She had shocked Loid into an ominous silence and had made Miss Anya cry! How could she make this right again?
"Come with me," Loid took her and Anya by the hand when the driver stopped at the intersection of 7th and 41st. "It's not far."
He led them to a narrow house in a slightly run-down back alley where the shadows were already deepening. Yor didn't understand what they were doing here, Loid was clearly keeping something from them! She was certain it had everything to do with hanging an important, powerful politician from a chandelier! People were arrested for far less these days!
Loid had a key for the strange house. In fact, he needed two keys to unlock the door. Yor studied it with a frown. It was very sturdy and looked like it could not easily be broken?
"Mama, it's a safe house," Anya pressed her hand, looking up at her from far below, "you must not worry."
She smiled for Anya's sake, but how could she not worry when it was clear that Loid was extremely tense and ultra cautious, constantly checking whether people were following them? It made her jump at her own shadow. A dark, creaky staircase led up to another well-secured door, everything smelled like disinfectant.
"Who lives here?" Yor asked Loid, hesitating to enter. He had stepped inside and switched on the lights. From where she stood, the apartment looked neat and tidy. Impersonal. Like it was just waiting for someone to come and stay for a short while. Strangely, there were no windows.
"Nobody," Loid pulled her inside and closed the door behind them firmly. "Trust me, Yor. There is food in the fridge. The beds are made if you want to sleep. You can use the toiletries in the bathroom. But you have to stay here until I come back. It will only be an hour or two."
"Are the bad guys after us?" Anya gasped.
"It's my patients," Loid nodded gravely, putting his hat down on a sideboard and loosening his tie. "Yor, some have run away and want vengeance against me. I will have to confront them."
"No!" Yor exclaimed.
"Can we go get Bond, Papa?" Anya pleaded. "I want Bond here!"
"Now now," Loid frowned. "Frankie can take care of him for a while longer."
"But I don't want to go anywhere without Bond!" Anya stomped her foot, tears gathering in her eyes again. "I don't want you as my Papa anymore if I can't see Bond!"
"Miss Anya!" Yor gasped.
But Anya ran into the toilet, slammed the door and turned the key behind her.
"Just let her be, she will be fine," Loid grabbed Yor's shoulders rather forcefully. "Please promise me you won't leave. It is really dangerous outside."
Yor knew that his patients wouldn't be a big problem for her, but nodded dutifully to calm him down. She didn't like to see him this anxious. "Do not worry, Loid," she smiled, yet not willing to make the promise he wanted. She hated lying to him.
"It's possible that we need to leave this city, Yor. As early as tonight."
"Wh... what?" Yor felt her stomach drop. Because of his patients?! This was going too far! "B... but I cannot leave! I have Yuri! I have my job! I will help you with your patients tomorrow, Loid-san! I will make sure they quiet down, I do not want to leave Berlint!"
"Is being here this important for you?" He asked gravely.
"Yes. It is my home," Yor looked into his blue eyes, swallowing hard. He looked so disappointed! She scrambled to find better words, without making herself seem desperate again like before, when she had begged him to marry her. "I mean... I wouldn't mind traveling with you a little... to that place in the North-West where they make scones for example? If your work allows it, Loid-san! If you would take me!"
Loid took a deep breath and froze for a few seconds. Then he nodded resolutely.
"Just promise to wait here until I come back, yes?" He kissed her. How soft his lips were... She put her arms around his neck and held on, taking another kiss. Another. Why did she miss him so much already?
"We will figure it out together," he hugged her fiercely to his chest for a moment.
"Yes, Loid-san," she smiled. "You do not need to worry."
He did very obviously worry though, but he left them, taking his hat, throwing one last look over his shoulder at her before he closed the door behind himself. She listened to his footsteps going down the stairs, at the front door opening and closing, at the silence that followed.
Well.
Yor shuddered, slinging her arms around her own body. She should have offered to help him with the patients tonight, of course. But she couldn't - she had orders. Only, how would she leave this apartment if there were no windows? There must be a roof, she thought, tilting her head a little as she pondered that option. And there always was a way onto the roof.
She shuddered again when she recalled how close she had come this afternoon to making a grave mistake.
"I know what you are," Donovan Desmond had challenged Yor as soon as they were alone, his eyes appearing to bulge out of his head. "What if I tell that proper Doctor husband of yours?"
Impossible. How?
"I'm willing to reconsider if you let me do whatever I want with you," the hateful man had leered, rudely undressing her with his eyes.
Her instinct was to kill him, instantly. The rule was simple: Her secret identity needed to be protected at all cost, people who found out she was working as an assassin immediately died, no exceptions made. However, before she could hurl the small knives she held in her hand into his throat, Yor luckily remembered that she had been given different orders.
So she hung Donovan Desmond from the chandelier instead, making sure to shock him into silence with the most menacing glare she could muster.
He deserved that and more, but he had a good reason for knowing who she was. That time she had gotten the orders to protect him, she had been on very strong painkillers, drifting in and out of wakefulness in the dimly lit hospital room. Loid, Loid was in her head, only Loid. Loid and his gentle smile that made her feel warm inside out. An exasperated Loid bent over Anya's homework, his hair ruffled in frustration. Loid bent over her body, adoration in his eyes. Loid so worried for her he looked like he might faint. Loid, beautiful, gentle, strong Loid.
"Thorn Princess," someone said from the shadows, jolting her from her fitful slumber. "How are you feeling?"
She got a fright, but Yor realized quickly that everything was in order. The registration of her name as a patient in this hospital had triggered the expected reaction from Garden; it was standard emergency protocol for the Shopkeeper to seek out his employees in dire situations to offer his support.
"No need to explain," he stepped into the light, patting her hand gesture when she attempted to gather her garbled thoughts to justify her sorry state. "There's not much time. Ibara-hime, a few days from now, you are going to be invited to the house of Donovan Desmond. I want you to check out his security thoroughly. You will need the knowledge later."
"Is he my target?"
Desmond... Desmond... oh no. Her groggy brain put together the pieces. How would she be able to look her new friend Melinda in the eyes after killing her husband?
"No. You will have to protect him. Your next target is someone else."
"Yes?" Yor tried to push herself up. "I'm ready for new orders."
The Shopkeeper laughed quietly, patting her hand once more. "Not today. After you have been to Desmond's house, come to me for new instructions at night."
The time had now come. Tonight, Yor would receive a new kill order. And - so she hoped - new weapons just as good as her last ones.
"He's an agent of a foreign government, a very skilled one," the Shopkeeper had said before leaving the hospital room. "You must take extra care when the time comes."
Often, she didn't know why the people she was ordered to kill had to die. But foreign spies? They were enemies. No questions asked. They all deserved death.
###
It wasn't too far from the safehouse to WISE's HQ. He had broken protocol by bringing Yor and Anya to one without prior clearance from someone higher-up the chain of command, but considering what other protocols he was going to break before this was all over, it was a minor offense.
"Ah, Twilight!" Sylvia beamed at him when he arrived.
"I have the evidence," Twilight informed her, showing her the envelope without handing it over yet. "The receipts, the name, the address. But... I've been exposed."
"Oh no!" The Handler seemed genuinely saddened. "How?"
"It was Moonshine who blew my cover. Moonshine is the mole you're looking for."
Nodding grimly as if this wasn't much of a surprise, she turned around to make a phone call. Strangely detached, Twilight heard her order the all-out manhunt every sane agent feared like death. It was to apprehend a rogue agent "dead or alive": Only that the odds of coming out of this in one piece were very low.
"You stay put," she told him once she put the phone down and turned back to him. "I will arrange a transfer for you to Westalis tonight. Still... Well done, Twilight. Thank you for your service."
She held out her hand. He took a few steps in her direction and handed over the envelope.
It was a fake one, but she wouldn't be able to notice it easily.
Loid couldn't quite say what it was that made him distrustful. A potpourri of scenes from the past playing in his head at night, sentences and words, facial expressions, all the bits and pieces that did not quite add up... and his gut, which he trusted more than any living person, telling him that something just wasn't right.
"I want to take Yor and Anya with me."
Sylvia laughed like it was a funny joke. When he raised his eyebrows, she sobered. "Are you serious?"
"Of course I am. They're not safe here."
Fact was: Now that his cover was blown, Yor and Anya were in acute danger too. Spending time "married" to a Westalis spy was as good as a death sentence in Ostania. And as long as Donovan was alive, Yor had to fear being hunted down by his henchmen.
"Do you think they would be safe in Westalis? Don't be an idiot, Twilight. We will organize protection for them here. It's not for nothing I have Agent Nightfall follow that brother of hers day and night."
True. Yuri might protect Yor against the order of his employer. But Anya?
"I want to quit."
Sylvia laughed again, but it sounded much more serious this time. "Was my warning not clear enough the last time you came here with that idea? Nobody has ever quit. It's impossible. You are a spy, Twilight, for as long as you live. You gave up everything for this, have you forgotten your oath? You cannot have a family. They'll put you on desk duty for a while, but you can be sure to be deployed again soon. Someone as good as you? You might even become Head of Intelligence one day."
Loid stood perfectly still while the possibilities and impossibilities of his situation swirled frantically in his head.
"You promise to protect them?" He asked the Handler.
"Yes," she nodded. "Of course. It is normal to become attached to people. It is good to know you have a heart left."
A heart that bled and hurt and wanted him to do everything his head knew he couldn't and shouldn't – he felt miserable, angry, tired, defeated, and cheated out of a life he had never known he wanted... and then, his gut decided to ask a question.
"Do you know an older gentleman with curly white hair and dark piercing eyes?"
"Hm? A man with long white hair? Never met anyone like it," Sylvia replied nonchalantly. "Why do you ask?"
Sylvia Sherwood was one of the best. But she had also trained one of the best: It took only a miniscule twitch of an eyelid, a pupil that widened an almost imperceptible fraction of an inch to give it away: The Handler was surprised about his question - and she was lying to him.
She knew the skilled and clearly dangerous man who had visited Yor at the hospital. This might very well mean that she also knew about the perfume someone had sprayed on Yor that day. How else could the Handler have told him with confidence the gas developed by the enemy was a failure? Whoever the enemy was in this scenario, they had tested it on him, and he had been able to withstand its effects by jumping after the boy.
"Never mind," Loid said, extra careful not to give away the shock he felt. "That man is just someone who was described to me as a person to watch out for."
"Ah," Sylvia replied with interest. "By whom?"
"An anonymous source," Loid shrugged. Called Loid's gut.
"I hope it wasn't Moonshine."
Hmmm, what? Why would she bring up Moonshine as if he would know something about it? Maybe he and Moonshine had to have a chat...
"I have one last wish: Give me a gun. I want to join the manhunt tonight."
"That is against protocol," Sylvia looked nonetheless intrigued.
"Nobody needs to know that Twilight will cease to exist after tonight quite yet," Loid pulled up the corner of his mouth a fraction. "You owe me this. Consider it the first and the last favor."
Sylvia laughed again and pulled open a drawer to take out a gun and ammunition. "Remember the first time we met? I told you that you reminded me of a lonely wolf cub. You've come a long way, Agent Twilight. I will miss you around here."
"I will miss you too."
He took the gun, loaded it, and put it into his pocket. He also hoped he would never meet her again.
###
Her Loid was back not even two hours after he left them in the strange, but safe house, like he had promised.
"Yor," he slipped into the darkened room so quietly she almost missed his approach. "Yor, are you asleep?"
She wasn't. It was barely dinner time - and she had waited for him on the bed, biding her time while plotting how and when to leave so he wouldn't notice. It grieved her that she would have to lie to him again, just like when Loid asked her who that elderly gentleman with the long white hair had been who had visited her at the hospital. That description matched a neighbor from her old apartment complex, she had claimed. He had seemed satisfied with the answer, but it gave her so much anxiety that the Shopkeeper had met Loid, she wasn't even sure why!
"Where is Anya?"
His presence drew nearer, and she shuddered languorously when his scent hit her nostrils. This was what home smelled like: Like fresh bread out of the oven. Like coffee freshly ground. Like Loid Forger.
"In the other bedroom," she answered. "She fell asleep after I told her a story. The poor child was exhausted."
"What kind of story?" There was a kind of breathless laughter in Loid's voice. Oh dear, she also remembered the calamity he had to be thinking of: She had once told Anya a story about undead people crawling out of their graves during moonless nights, not thinking for a second that she might frighten the child to tears!
"A harmless one I used to read to Yuri when he was her age," she smiled fondly into the dark. "About three hungry bears and a girl. Did it all go well with your patients?"
"For the time being," he settled on the bed next to her. "Yor, I want to ask you something."
"Yes, Loid?" She extended her hand towards him, found his solid, muscular thigh in the dark. She heard his intake of breath when her fingers wandered, it made her heart beat faster.
"Yor, were you given a new perfume by someone? On the day we went to the picnic."
Yor froze. Why would he ask her that? She had been sprayed with perfume! At the mall, when she had rushed to buy groceries.
"Yes," she admitted. "It was just a sample though. Didn't you like it?"
"Who gave it to you?"
The question hung in the air between them, loaded and dangerous. Why was this important?
"Just a salesperson?" She answered. "At the mall. Why?"
"A woman? What did she look like?"
"I... I don't recall, Loid. She was wearing a shop uniform. An apron, and a fancy bonnet."
"Was her hair strawberry blonde?"
Yor did not recall, which chagrined her because it was obviously important to him.
"I'm very sorry I did not pay more attention, Loid-san. She sprayed it on me when I walked past, telling me it was on sale."
"Are you wearing it tonight?"
"No," she shook her head, "I did not go back to buy it. Should I have?"
"No, Yor. It doesn't matter now. Can I make love to you?" Loid's hot breath hit her neck as he bent over her. "I want you so much."
She could have cried, she was so relieved. She wanted him too, so, so much. This strange distance between them after the incident with the bear, the feeling that he was slowly drifting further away... it made her so very anxious. Grabbing onto him with both hands, she pulled him down towards her – maybe a little too forcefully because Loid whelped and barely managed to prevent their heads from butting together.
"So sorry!" She squealed but he didn't seem to mind much. With an impatient grunt, he put his one hand on her left breast to tease her nipple while the other began sliding up her leg over her stocking, further up underneath her skirt, up to the edge of her panties. He pressed his lips onto hers just as he began to tease and stroke her folds through the underwear. Craving more, she bucked against him seeking friction and pressure, at the same time putting her own hand on his crotch. He was already hard, and she enjoyed the feeling of the warm, firm flesh rubbing against her palm, loved the way his breath caught when she began to rub more firmly and purposefully.
With a bit of nostalgia, she remembered the first time they had been intimate. It seemed like a lifetime ago when it had barely been two weeks.
"I missed you," she breathed, followed by a loud moan when he inserted two fingers into her in response, sliding in easily when she was so wet already.
"Shhhh," he admonished her breathlessly, groaning when she began to frantically move up and down on his digits, seeking her pleasure, "don't wake Anya!"
Yor didn't want to wake Anya. But she wasn't quite sure how to keep quiet when everything about this urged her to scream and shout. She bit down on his shoulder, hard, when her first orgasm rocked her, heard him yelp, then chuckle.
"Is that what you like?" He whispered hotly. "Okay. Let's get rough then."
He jumped on top of her, pinning her hands above her head with one of his, while the other opened his belt and trousers. Loid was so skillful! She would never have been able to do that with just one hand!
Unexpectedly, he pinched her bottom. Hard.
"Aiiii!" She screamed, barely keeping herself from kicking him to the wall. He pinched her inner thigh. "Oohhhh!" Yor bucked, almost dislodging him.
"I should spank your juicy ass, you naughty girl," Loid growled at her ear, his teeth grazing her jugular while his skillful hand pulled down her panties to her knees. "With my belt, until you beg me to stop."
The thought of being draped over his knees with all her vulnerable bits exposed to him and his wrath made her whimper in anticipation.
"I would like to be spanked by you," she admitted, her whole body tingling happily.
"Dammit," he groaned, sucking on her neck. "I can't wait any longer."
He briefly wiggled against her to get rid of his own pants, then the hot tip of his rod demanded entry, pushed forcefully into her as soon as she moved her knees apart. The invasion was so deep, quick, and thorough, she gasped. She felt full, so full, his weight pressing her down into the mattress, her surrender to his male strength more exciting than she could ever have fathomed.
"So, you like to be fucked like this, Yor?" Loid began to set a fast, almost frantic pace, his hands grabbing and pulling her hair, his mouth sucking, kissing, biting her neck, her ear, her cheek, her lips.
Fucked. It was a naughty word, she knew that. She must truly be a naughty girl, but she loved to be fucked. Like this. Exactly like this.
"Yes, Loid," she moaned. "I love to be fucked like this!"
In response, Loid pulled her up into a sitting position, kneeling so she could bounce on top of him by using his shoulders as leverage. As he edged her on with more naughty words whispered into her ears, he squeezed her buttocks, fingered her butthole, drove her absolutely crazy ramming into her with reckless abandon.
Yes, she wanted this for life.
Suddenly mindful of the near end, she clamped her legs around him to stop their movement, then began riding him more slowly, pausing whenever his rapid breathing made it seem like he was close. Then she rode him faster, letting him grow bigger and harder again. She stole several shallow orgasms from him, letting them pulse through her lazily.
His familiar face underneath her fingers in the dark. His soft hair. His shoulders, his chest, his arms around her. His solid warm body. She loved him so much. She loved him with all her heart.
She wanted his pollen to fuse with her eggs. She wanted a baby with him, a tiny brother so Anya could be the big, strong sister, like she had been a big, strong sister for Yuri. She wanted all this but didn't dare to tell him again because if he said no? She didn't know how to live with that.
Despite drawing it out as long as possible, it was still over much too quickly.
"Ahhh," he moaned, biting down on her shoulder just as she had bit on his, coming deep inside of her, jerking and shuddering. She rode him until the last drop of his pollen was spilled, listened to his breath slowing down, she felt like she was floating on pink clouds, so warm, so full, so cherished.
The strange wetness against her shoulder jolted her out of her blissful state.
"Are you crying?" In horror, she touched his wet cheeks.
"No," he cleared his throat and turned his face away. "No."
Cold dread invaded her being. "Loid, what is it?"
"Nothing, Yor. It's just that I need to leave again tonight."
"Oh," she suddenly remembered her pending meeting with the Shopkeeper. It would be so much easier to leave the house if Loid wasn't in it. "Okay. Your patients again?"
"Yes," he buried his face against her neck, breathing in deeply. "Yes. I won't be back as quickly this time."
"You'll be fine," she tried to cheer him up, playing with his hair. "Everything will be alright, Loid Forger."
He hugged her a little more forcefully and she hugged him back, thinking that if you believed something hard enough, it always came to pass. You just had to wait for it sometimes.
###
"Don't move."
His gun's barrel shone metallic in the moonlight that broke through the clouds and bathed Loid in its silver-white light. It wasn't his gun, it felt alien in his hand, too heavy and ungainly. But it would do.
Agent Moonshine, a mere shadowy silhouette in the darkness pooling at the base of the large chimney of the Desmond mansion, put his hands up slowly.
"Agent Twilight," he grumbled. "Took you long enough to find me."
True. He had known exactly where to look for him, but saying goodbye to Yor had taken way longer than he had planned. Walking away from her and Anya was the hardest thing he had ever done and he would regret it for the rest of his - potentially short - life.
"Don't tell me that's a bomb?"
Chilled by the thought, Twilight pointed his chin at the large contraption on the roof. If it was, it looked big enough to blow up the whole house and kill everyone in it.
"You were always too quick to judge me," Moonshine chuckled.
Oh, really?
"There are innocent people sleeping below," Loid pressed out, his rage making it hard to stay still. It was a bomb!
"And you are still so fucking pure-hearted, it is comical," Moonshine relaxed somewhat.
"Keep your filthy hands up!" Loid moved closer. "And step out of the shadows."
"Sure," Moonshine complied. "I know you are here because that smart brain of yours has realized that making me the only bad guy is a bit too convenient."
"Are you following orders?" Loid asked, already dreading the answer.
"Of course I am," Moonshine's face turned grimmer. "And I always have. Loyal to a fault, a dog who could never betray its masters."
"Then who is the mole?"
Moonshine laughed, throwing his head back. "You know who."
"But why?"
"What do I know," Moonshine pulled a face. "A personal grudge. A vendetta. Loved ones gruesomely killed during the war by the likes of Donovan Desmond. The possibility to send assassins after targets we at WISE cannot constitutionally kill."
Loid's hand began to shake. He grabbed his gun harder, using his left one to steady his arm. Why would he be stupid enough to believe a single word Moonshine said? That man was responsible for the death of 12 trusted comrades. He was responsible for the death of a maid. He was responsible for almost killing Yor. This man had destroyed his life!
And yet...
"Someone wanted me to identify you as the mole?" Loid asked.
It made so much sense: Sacrifice Moonshine who knew everything, draw attention away from themselves. Of course he had almost fallen for this ploy. Almost. Because he let hatred guide his thoughts.
Moonshine shrugged. "We both don't particularly like each other. I'm sure you were happy when you could point at me with certainty. Just as it gives me the greatest pleasure to see you suffer so much. They want you gone? Fine with me. I'm playing along until the bitter end."
Gone. Forced to leave. After an attempt to control him had failed. Dammit. Goddammit.
Loid let his hand sink. He had already lost: There was nothing he could do to change his own fate. But maybe he could prevent a bloodbath.
"I won't let you kill innocent women and children," he snarled at Moonshine. "I will kill you if you try."
"Innocent?" Moonshine made an agitated step in his direction, letting his hands sink. "Wake up, you fool. Nobody here is innocent. Nobody!"
There was a faint swishing sound in the air. Following pure instincts honed from years of avoiding sharp-shooters during the war, Loid dropped flat on the roof. The sound of the impact was wet and ugly. No gun shot followed. But Moonshine's large body hit the tiles with a resounding thud, began to slide downwards.
Loid scrambled forward on hands and knees, trying to keep cover as much as possible as he grabbed a fistful of Moonshine's suit to prevent him from falling off the roof.
The man was already dead, two stiletto daggers like the ones in Loid's pocket protruding from his throat. It was an exceptionally clean, fast kill - one weapon had pierced his air duct, the other a jugular. With an inadvertent shiver, Loid looked up, towards the dark trees towering in the garden.
There.
Dark clothes, white skin, the unmistakable figure of a woman illuminating by the moonlight. Here one moment, gone the next, only the shivering of the leaves as she retreated telling him he had not been mistaken about the mysterious assassin.
Overwhelmed, Loid closed his eyes. I don't want to see. I don't want to know.
When he opened them again, he was alone.
Moonshine's body was already cooling. Loid got up slowly, looking down at his fallen comrade. He took out the envelope with the evidence against Donovan and placed it in one of Moonshine's pockets. He pulled out the stiletto daggers from his pocket and put them on his chest. The bomb, he soon found out, had no charge and no trigger. It was a dummy.
Loid stood still for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he walked across the roof to climb down the drain pipe.
It was the end of the road for him. There was no turning back after this. Alive or dead: He better start running.