The first thing Anya noticed when she got home was her parents awkwardness. Yor showered her with affection, not wanting to put her down, so happy she was home. Safe. With thoughts of Loid hidden underneath, his identity as a spy. She couldn't stop thinking about it. How highly aware she was of him.
Nor Loid about her.
They'd finally had it out. She'd wondered if it would ever happen.
But there was also something else in Loid's mind.
Anya.
That above all else, she was safe and at home. An immediate thought to never let her leave the house again, which was ridiculous. A dedication to finding the director and putting an end to him. He never thought he could be so angry when the doctor mentioned her gashes. He felt he'd come to play the father very well if he cared more for her than he anticipated. His thoughts marinaded in a suspicion he couldn't leave alone, despite this.
Clawing curiosity.
An itch that gnawed at him.
This is what Anya noticed. It was hard to not peek into his head for it.
And it scared her.
He didn't bring it up.
But he wanted to.
To ask how she knew things, how she seemed to get into his head, theories that couldn't possibly be true, but it was late. They were all tired and Anya needed sleep. If there was something going on with her, he'd figure it out tomorrow.
He did not.
Anya slept most of the next morning, only waking to go back to the hospital. The doctors tested for any and everything they found in the lab records. Her limbs were re-dressed, and Loid, told to change them daily.
A visit to Noah.
A proper time to ask was not found. Or the day after, Anya sleeping heavily from fatigue and stress.
That was fine.
There'd be time.
He could wait.
—————
Two days.
Loid had thought and considered and ruminated and puzzled for two days while Anya slept, recovering. Spent two days trying to track down the director with little to go on. Two days trying to unravel the mystery that was Anya. Two days trying and failing to make the pieces fit together. Two days spent working to distract himself from the host of questions he had for his daughter, fighting the urge to ask them while he sat with her eating at the table. He wanted to ask about the director. Who he was. His name. His appearance. Anything, really.
W.I.S.E. hadn't been able to collect intel yet on what the SSS had, the information kept closed, but to a scarce few. Their only lead to the director was cut off. Then Anya. Their best shot. He wanted to ask her, mixed with the hope that she'd forget about him. Erase him from her past. At least until they caught him and put him in jail.
Or killed him.
It could happen on the job.
But until that happened, a part of him loathed to bring him up. She just got away from him, he couldn't push his agenda like that.
Not that one, anyway.
What he really wanted to know was how she knew it was him that night. It nagged and nagged at him. He'd considered that she was just wildly intuitive, more so than he previously thought. The idea that she heard him at the political event, an insane, fantastical idea. There was no way that could actually happen. A coincidence. There was a possibility that she had picked up on his personal traits during these incidences. His gait, maybe. Facial expressions she was familiar with. Quirks that would have been invisible to anyone else. Or facial cues and body language that told her what he was thinking. He'd met spies that were trained for that sort of thing. The idea she was so naturally intuitive was implausible, though. It'd almost have be a sixth sense at that level. But what other explanation did he have? He watched her eating and debated.
His daughter was unaware of his gaze or state of mind, fully contemplating what Yor had discovered in the last couple days. Information that consumed Yor's thoughts. That Anya was not Loid's biological daughter, operation Strix, his name, all of the secrets out in the open.
All the secrets except Anya's of course.
She planned to keep it that way.
Yor was also aware Loid would leave one day. That once his mission was over, he had to move on.This left her with an empty feeling she didn't know how to deal with, but Loid felt lighter that she knew. That Yor would always take care of Anya, even if he wasn't around.
Anya refused to accept that and her goal was to eventually convince him to stay.
"Anya." Loid said out of nowhere, cutting through her thoughts as he put down his fork. His supper was nearly gone. His face was as calm as ever, belying his next words. "How did you know it was me that night at the lab?" He asked and Anya's heart stopped, placing her in stunned silence for a full minute as she grasped for an excuse. She was completely caught off guard.
Yor looked at him, placing her glass down, confused. She had assumed Anya already knew it was him.
"Um. . . a hunch." Anya said.
Loid surmised a child would see it that way, but her startled jump at the question and her hesitation gave him pause. It confused him even more. "Twice?" He asked, hoping for details.
"Twice?" She repeated. Doing her best to feign innocence.
"At the political event. You knew it was me." He stated, watching her carefully.
'!!!!!!' "Papa was there?" She asked, clutching the hem of her long t-shirt. She was terrible at fibbing.
Loid nodded and rested his jaw on a fist, studying her. Why would she lie about knowing it was him? He knew she had known. Had stared him dead in the eyes that day, but continued to deny it. If it was simply intuition, she wouldn't be reacting this way. She had gone still. Apprehensive, unblinking eyes looking back at him. Her fork, clenched tightly in her hand.
Like he had caught her red-handed.
So, it wasn't just in his head. There was something more going on. "You looked right at me."
Her fork hand flinched reflexively.
A dead giveaway.
"Anya looked at a lot of people." She eventually answered, trying to keep her nerves down. Pressure was building in her chest, her head. She looked back at him innocently, but Loid was good at rooting out liars.
He raised an eyebrow at her as his suspicion grew. She was too jumpy. Too evasive. His theory felt less and less viable. Anya kept a piece of the puzzle from him. Hid something from him. She'd held his gaze at the event, watched anxiously as he'd tried to make his way to her. Saw him the second he saw her. She'd held onto him that night at the lab. What was he missing? "I'm pretty sure you stared." Loid said nonchalantly, pushing aside her poor excuse.
Under the table, Anya's hand clenched and unclenched. Her nerves were catching up with her. She didn't need to use her abilities to know what he was thinking and her fears were coming true. She knew this could happen, but she wasn't prepared for it. She didn't know what to do. What to say. "Anya was. . .um. . ." She struggled to keep her breath steady. A waver in her voice trying to edge it's way in. "Anya was. . . " She tried again, coming up blank.
What did she say?! She was making it worse!
"Yes?" Loid asked, extremely curious to know where this was going, oblivious to her distress.
"Um. . ." Anya's heart pounded, lungs unsatisfied, and her right hand would shake if it weren't for her tight grip. What did she do?! What did she do?!
"It was. . . ."
Nothing came to her. Less oxygen when she inhaled.
"It was. . . "
Nothing. Less oxygen when she exhaled.
"Anya." Loid relieved his fist from the weight of his head. Anya's breaths picked up and no longer looked at him as she clearly tried to think of something to say. He didn't expect a simple question to upset her so much.
"It. . . ." She started to cry, fork dropping from her hand.
"Anya?" Yor asked.
Her respirations quickened further, shallow and panicked. The came and left before she could use the air. Gasped as she started to hyperventilate. 'They can't know! They can't know! They can't know! They can't know! They can't know! They can't know! They can't know!' Anya thought over and over, vaguely aware of Loid pulling her chair out to face him. She didn't see much through the tears and her awareness was reduced to little more than her flurry of thoughts. Anya was vaguely aware of Bond whining and pawing at her. Vaguely aware of something held to her mouth, loud and crinkly that matched the pace of her breathing.
'The lab.' Loid instantly thought as Anya tried to control herself. 'Does the lab have anything to do with this? She didn't have episodes like this before. How does it connect? Why does it upset her so much? Does it have to do with why she was at that event?' Loid asked himself. 'This doesn't make sense!' In his scrambled mess of a brain, a fraction of a notion insisted in the recesses of his mind, but he pushed them away.
No. Impossible. Ridiculous.
He refused them as Yor removed the bag from Anya a couple minutes later as her breathing normalized. Shaky and alarming, but normal.
Yor glanced to Loid as she picked Anya up, the crying, muffled when she buried face.
She had lot of questions too.
But Anya was in no state to answer them. Distressed and exhausted.
She let her Mama carry her to her room, Loid watching her go.
He didn't expect his questions to cause so much stress. Deterring him to ask again, until he knew how to help her. He was going to have to figure this out himself.
He had to get into the SSS.