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It wasn't really his birthday.
In actuality it just some random day he nebulously picked out on a whim, though to be fair he didn't really know his actual birthday. It was useless information for someone in his line of work, so he never remembered nor cared to celebrate it, and yet the subject was brought up nonetheless. He should have anticipated such a question being asked at some point; he always assumed it would be Yor asking about Anya's rather than his, however. Maybe that's why it caught him so off guard when she pried one day out of nowhere, and why his resulting silence gave their daughter the opportunity to strike.
"Papa's birthday is next week!" Anya grinned before Loid could give some far off date that would quickly be forgotten.
He didn't know why Anya thought to answer for him. Likely it was just to mess with him. Regardless of the reason, he'd have to play along to save face. Yes, he admitted, it was going to be on Friday and no, he had no plans to celebrate it. He'd be at work and besides, it's not like there was anyone around who'd care to throw a party for him anyway. He wasn't looking for sympathy, nor was he leaving a hint for his wife to come up with something on the fly. With that said, he probably should have seen this coming; for being one of the best spies in the world, this really shouldn't have come as a shock.
...Although, it wasn't Yor getting him a cake that threw him for a loop.
No, there a couple reasons why his eyes were wide and his mouth hung slack-jaw.
First off, she really did surprise him; he'd forgotten all about their conversation a week prior, and thus she caught him completely off guard as he walked through the front door and found himself suddenly blasted in the face by confetti. After a long day of working missions, he reeled at the sudden excitement. Loid blinked as his wife presented him with a cake, and his briefcase fell to the wayside.
And the second...perhaps most important reason why Loid stood dumbfounded, was Yor herself. Specifically what she was wearing, or rather lack thereof. Her usual house sweater was gone, as her her leggings, and in lieu of those she had slipped into rather...provocative attire. For one thing, it wasn't anything Loid had even envisioned her wearing; a shoulder-less outfit, complete with hip-high leggings, white heels, white bunny ears and tail, and a busty...well, bust. She stood there in the doorway looking up at him, face redder than her eyes, and waited for him to say something. Anya was nowhere to be seen.
At first, he thought he was hallucinating. Loid shook himself awake, but when he found he wasn't dreaming he balked. "Yor?"
She didn't say anything at first. All Yor did was stand there with her hands behind her back and divert her eyes the moment he focused on her. Loid couldn't really couldn't help facilitate her answer either, seeing as how he was cornered and mostly speechless. All he could do was look down at the cake she'd thrust into his hands, the words "Happy Birthday Loid" written in blue icing.
Lips frazzled, fingers twiddling in front of her, Yor gulped before finally speaking up. "S-so, uh...I told the girls at work it was your birthday."
"...Uh-huh?" Loid nodded absently as he looked up from the cake. Yor dared not look him in the eyes, and he couldn't really either.
"A-and-" Yor looked away. It was almost like the longer they stood there, the more she realized how insane this all was. "-Camilla said I should do this."
"This as in...all this?" Loid motioned to everything in the room with his head; the cake, the confetti on the floor, before finally landing back on Yor.
Her entire body turning red, Yor nodded and cast her eyes to the floor. She managed to peek up at him a little, though. "...D-do you like it?"
Loid short-circuited. If there was ever a time when the legendary spy had met his match, it was at that moment; he always assumed it would be Donovan Desmond who would end his win-streak, not at all the woman who had married him for appearances sake. What's more, of all the women in Westalis and Ostania, Yor Forger was the last one he'd have expected to be standing in front of him like this.
A fake wife. A fake birthday. And yet, the cake was real. She was real, and that outfit was certainly real. He stared at it, at her, and made no attempt to hide his gaze. Yor could feel his eyes linger on her, and said nothing. It's not like she could blame him, or even care to really considering that was kind of the whole point of wearing said outfit in the first place; make him see her, and give him something to look at. It was his birthday. He was her (fake) husband. A grown man, one who likely hadn't entertained the thought of other women since they'd gotten married.
Ever the gentleman, she knew Loid would never look at another lady. Even if their whole arrangement was a sham, Yor knew he respected their shared home and daughter enough to not complicate matters like that. All the more reason why she felt guilty. All this time together and he never once lamented the fact that he was lonely, at least not out loud. It was obvious he was though, at least to Yor; Camilla's insistence that it was her duty as a wife to make him happy told her as much. He was her man, the woman argued, so she should treat him like one.
She never really did anything for Loid...domestically or otherwise. Maybe, this would be enough? "I-I can go change, if you want...?"
Yor refused to look up. His staring was obvious, as was his silence. She took a big gulp and lamented the fact that his was all probably a terrible idea. Of course this isn't what Loid wanted for his birthday. They weren't actually married. He was probably tired after working all day, and the last thing he wanted was to be swarmed by cake, confetti, and...a wife who really needed to change her clothes.
Without waiting further for a reply, Yor unceremoniously turned to take her leave. A sudden grip on her arm, however, stopped her. "Yor, wait."
Somehow, Loid's simple command left her even more flustered than before. Yor stiffened, and dared not turn back around. "Y-yes?"
There was another pause. The silence killed Yor. Then, a moment later, he asked the question, "...Do you need help changing?"
Eyes shot wide open, and Yor tilted her head in an effort to process what was just said to her. A moment later and her entire body creaked as she slowly turned to face Loid. Yor traced the length of him, starting at his toes. His nice leather shoes. Then, his beige-grey slacks. The cake in one of his hands, and her in the other. His coat and tie. Then, the blue eyes she always lost herself in whenever they stared at her like that. At that very moment they looked just as surprised as her, as if the words coming out of his mouth weren't planned.
Loid always planned everything though. For once, he had no idea what he was doing.
Neither did Yor, and yet...the simple fact that she had gotten him to that point filled her with a strange sense of pride.
Yor nodded to answer his question. She didn't have the ability to form words at the moment, though her response was enough for Loid. The two of them seemed to switch to auto-pilot; under normal circumstances one of them would probably be too preoccupied with appearances to make the first move, yet the two of them seemed completely in sync. Loid tightened his grip. Yor turned around slowly, though kept staring back at him as they both shuffled down the hall. The cake was deposited on the dining room table. Then, she led him to her room.
The door opened, leaving the rest of the Forger house empty as the pair entered.
Maybe, Loid thought to himself as the door closed behind them, birthdays really weren't all that bad.