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It was one thing to be interrupted on his mission in public.
He'd just come back to town after his time away, and of course, there were people there who recognised him - they asked him how he'd been, he said he'd been just fine, where've you been, just the city, did you do much, no, not really...the usual smalltalk. It was bothersome, but if he wanted to not attract attention, he had to engage. It wasn't like he'd be staying long. This was all for the cause.
It was another thing ENTIRELY to be interrupted while he was ALREADY hiding.
He'd hidden well! He'd ditched the red hoodie in favour of camouflage, and his military training came in handy when it came to staying very, very still, and he'd decided to begin his mission in the dead of night...and yet all of that was not enough to avoid company.
At first, he'd thought it was Tom, and maybe he could take advantage of the man's usual drunken state to convince him it was just a dream, go back to bed, you can call me in the morning if you miss me so much, of course I'll answer, it's you - he'd done it before. This was not the first mission he'd been on.
But this time it wasn't Tom, evidenced by the lack of spiky hair, shorter height, and the camera clutched in perfectly manicured hands.
A failed clone? It couldn't be, he'd taken GREAT pleasure in destroying all of those.
The neighbours? Perhaps. He knew they kept an eye on them, and they had a third person living there, but since his attention had been elsewhere, he'd assumed that meant a child.
He looked the stranger over - again, short. No muscles to speak of. No sign of any concealed weapons...not a threat to him.
Before he had the chance to cause a diversion to make the other leave however, the stranger ducked into the bush alongside him as though it was natural for him to do so.
Tord stayed very, very still. If he just didn't move, perhaps this anomaly would leave without ever noticing him. Like in Jurassic Park but with a disappointing lack of bloody murder, or something.
...That was not the case.
"Hello! I'm Jon. Who're you?" The stranger -Jon- greeted, and for the first time Tord found he could think of no words to talk his way out of this situation. Which was something, considering he'd got away with INCREDIBLY outlandish lies before.
So he didn't say anything. A conversation took two, after all.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
...Or at least, that was what he'd thought until Jon continued. "...Not much of a talker? That's alright, I won't make you. Uh, welcome to the garden! Are you taking photos too?"
Tord shook his head slowly -it wasn't hesitant, he didn't hesitate!- but his eyes stayed on Jon. He was either a complete idiot to talk to an obviously-dangerous individual hiding in a bush...or much like his dear old friends, smarter than he appeared.
He'd have to be careful. Too much said could lead to unwanted consequences. Too little could lead to the wrong conclusions being drawn. The last thing he wanted was to be compared to some kind of rosebush Romeo - romance always bred gossip, and that gossip would no doubt get back to his old friends, and they couldn't know he was in town. Not yet.
"...I know them." He settled on, finally. It wasn't "they're my friends", it couldn't be, but it at least cleared that he wasn't some insane saw-you-once stalker.
It caught up to him in that moment. Perhaps he was not some overly-romantic stalker...but the man crouched beside him with a camera aiming right through the window of the neighbouring house was.
He knew the script now.
"I know them quite well, actually." He gave a grin - playful, disarming, and not at all a reaction to the way Jon's head had whipped around when he'd said that.
Maybe a little bit of a reaction. It contributed to the act, he was allowed that much.
"You do? Really? How?"
Tord gave a shrug. Not too much information. Just enough to ensure that if this 'Jon' got in the way, he'd have ways to dissuade him from talking.
"I can't tell you that."
"Okay! What can you tell me?"
And so Tord talked.
Jon turned out to be good company on his missions.
He had thought it would be a one-time thing, but as he was quite quickly learning, Jon was incredible at subverting his every expectation.
They would meet in the bushes a few nights a week. Jon would happily tell him all about what had gone on that day, what pictures he'd got, he'd show him the pictures if they were especially interesting. Tord would half-listen, noting anything of use to him. Then, he'd tell stories from the good old days, and Jon would listen as though he were saying something truly revolutionary.
It made him feel very at-home, to be listened to so attentively. Perhaps one day he would give Jon the opportunity to join his...'business'.
Once the mission was over, that was. His 'business' couldn't thrive if he couldn't get into that house again. He was sure Tom would have honoured their agreement. Much as they argued, Tom knew what had to be done. Tom was good like that.
Every now and then, once the stories were over with, Jon would ask him about the mission.
Tord felt a twinge of regret that he couldn't tell him much, but what he could say, he did.
"So, if you know them, why aren't you going to say hello?"
"...It's a surprise. They can't know I'm back yet."
"Oh, that's really sweet! What are you surprising them with?"
Tord thought about this for a moment. How much information would be telling, if he were to tell Jon about his plans? It would be more suspicious if he were to never give so much as a hint as to why he was hiding in the bushes.
"I suppose you could call it a party. I've done a lot of preparation already."
He fought back a more telling laugh. Oh, it would be a Party, alright.
"I'm making a better world for all of us. I'm building the better man."
Jon frowned, looking perplexed for a moment, and Tord had to re-evaluate his clone theory, because without the smile, he really did look a lot like Tom.
"Isn't it 'being the better man'?"
"Yes, yes, that too. What about you, then? What will you do with the pictures you take?"
A weak spot, Tord could see it plain as day on his reddening face. It was almost pitiful, the way he glanced to the side as though that would get him out of such a situation.
"I just...collect them." Jon admitted, with a sheepish giggle.
Well, at least there was no misunderstanding there. He couldn't believe he'd ever considered Jon a threat.
He wondered how he was going to explain the friendship bracelet he returned back to his office with.