Archive of Our Own

Enter Sylvia Sherwood.

The steely-eyed ferocity with which she carried herself was how she got her nickname; Fullmetal Lady. 

An iron will mixed with cold, calculated efficiency was befitting of someone in her position, and she rose to meet and exceed every expectation placed on her by the higher ups at WISE. Everyone within the organization’s Ostanian branch knew her, either directly or indirectly, and she commanded respect from not just her subordinates but from her enemies as well. There wasn’t a soul alive who took her presence for granted. 

Especially now, it seemed.   

It was her usual rounds after lunch- walk through the halls of Safehouse G and grab a cup of crappy coffee before turning to her desk to run mission files. Ever aware, Sylvia’s brow raised as several passersby caught her attention; they glanced at her as they walked past, a keen interest in their eyes before quickly smoothing it by looking away. She thought nothing of it the first time- or even the second- but by the third time she took notice. 

People were looking at her strangely…

...Did she forget to take the tag off her blasted coat again?

Her eye twitched in annoyance, hidden behind large spectacles. The moment she got the chance to, Sylvia checked her clothes; nothing. Perhaps it was something stuck in her teeth from lunch? A bit of a stretch, and one that also ended up being false. Maybe she was imagining the whole thing in the first place? Another walk through of the compound again proved her wrong. The more she walked, the more she found people staring.

Something was going on, and she was the butt of it.

A joke? Were the other agents trying to play a prank on her? Sylvia’s creamy skin turned crimson; if they thought they were trying to pull a fast one on her, they had another thing coming. She handled Twilight for a living- if they couldn’t get him, what on earth made them think she was any easier to prank?

For the rest of the afternoon, Sylvia played the safe game. She continued going through her routine, and kept eyeing stares from all across the room. Everyone was in on it, even the analysts whose job it was to keep their nose buried in a cipher book and tape recorder. It got a point where Sylvia seriously considered calling them all out and demanding to know what was going on, but before she could even entertain the notion there came a soft thud on her desk.

She paused. She looked over.

There, sitting atop a stack of papers, was an envelope. Immediately Sylvia threw her head around in search of who dropped it, but the perpetrator was long gone. Annoyed even more, she snatched the envelope up, ripped it open, and eyed the note inside. It was written in cipher, but Sylvia could read it easily.

Meeting room with the lights off. I’ll tell you what you want to know.

Sylvia’s eyes narrowed; no time frame? Did that mean whoever wrote this wanted to meet now? Suspicion mounting, the Fullmetal Lady tossed quick glances all over the room. Everyone had gone back to focusing on their own work, leaving Sylvia there to feel like she was going crazy for a moment- like everything was all in her head.

She scowled. Whoever wrote this note owed her some answers.

Sylvia pushed off from her desk and made her way down the hall towards the direction of the indicated meeting spot. There were only two meeting rooms and one was currently occupied. The other, she soon discovered, was dark and empty; a quick glance inside as she opened the door revealed as much to her, though she knew there was likely someone in there. Assuming the worst and preparing herself for such, Sylvia ducked inside and shut the door behind her.

She flipped the switch. She scanned the room.

There, placed neatly on a table, was a cake and another envelope.

Annoyance aside that there was no person but instead another note, Sylvia perked. The realization hit her immediately; that cake was for her. She knew it was because of how small it was, and also the fact there was a single candle placed on top of it. A quickly recognizable gesture; a birthday cake.

Her birthday cake. 

It was her birthday today.

But...how? How did anyone know that? She kept such personal matters to herself (especially when it came to matters of age) and she couldn’t remember ever telling anyone at work about it. Such was the peril of working with spies it seemed, though the thought admittedly didn’t cross Sylvia’s mind. She was too busy shaking her head in disbelief, even as she made her way over to the table and confirmed the cake’s existence once more.

A smile crept over her face as she took the envelope and opened it, this time much more carefully than before. She didn’t want to risk tearing whatever was inside, which turned out to be no formal birthday card. It was instead an average piece of type-writer paper, though the writing was handwritten. It was in nice clean letters, and right away she could tell who wrote it from their penmanship.

Sylvia chuckled- she should’ve known. There was only one person who had the gall to dig up dirt on his own handler, let alone get the whole office in on it. Twilight had a habit of getting a rise out of her, and he had certainly outdone himself this time. To think she actually thought for a moment there’d been a security breach or something...

Still, she had no will in her to be spiteful. Not when presented with a lovely little cake and note to boot, the latter of which she read several times over. It was cute; very outside the realm of usual Twilight behavior. It wasn’t long ago he couldn’t have cared less about anyone’s birthday, now he was baking cakes and signing notes on behalf of his whole family. Sylvia’s smile grew. 

The Forgers, huh? 

She imagined Anya Forger inquiring as to why her father was baking a cake. He likely said it was for his boss at work- not entirely lying in that regard. She probably demanded to help, and Yor Forger likewise jumped in to sow unneeded chaos. Sylvia didn’t need intel to know it was a messy affair; that many chefs in the kitchen always ended badly, though the result seemed to have turned out alright in the end.

She knew what it was like to bake things with the family, if only in memory.

Her smile waned a bit, though it never left Sylvia’s face. She noticed a fork there on the other side of the cake and helped herself. She cut into her birthday gift; pink frosting broke and revealed soft, spongy goodness. A big piece found its way into her mouth, and air rushed through her nose pleasantly; it was good. 

Really good. She went in for another bite.

Twilight could bake, Sylvia affirmed to herself. She sat her backside on the table and continued munching on cake as she stared at the note- not reading it per say, but rather just basking in the warm feeling it gave her. A memory of a time when she would sit and eat cake with her own family. A time when birthdays were something to be shared with everyone, and weren’t a state secret that only one man with identity issues knew about.

That damn Twilight; she wanted to be annoyed with him, but really all she could do was let her beam grow brighter.

 “Thanks for the cake, Loid.”