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Loid wondered idly, when his false family became more important than his lifelong job. The one thing that gave him a livelihood, a purpose, seemed so small now. The adrenaline from missions that used to ground him was nothing compared to hearing Anya’s footsteps early in the morning before school. Completing a mission and reporting to Sylvia afterward was a mole hill compared to the mountain that was coming home to Yor after a long day.
His job was the reason why he was alive, while simultaneously putting him in constant danger. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he died during a mission and his heart would clench at the mere thought of it. He made sure to be extra careful— more than before— He never wanted Anya to see his injuries.
Every time he needed to lie to Yor and Anya about where he was going or what he was doing, that familiar feeling of guilt settled in his stomach. It felt like a rock, growing bigger and tougher with each lie that slipped through his lips.
Sometimes he would come home late and Yor would be on the couch. She never once questioned where he was and would happily greet him home. He would drag his feet across the floor as he removed his outerwear, muttering an “I’m home”, and plop down next to her. He wouldn’t always say anything, but Yor could read him. She knew what he wanted.
Her hand would make its way to his back, rubbing it in light circles and as he relaxed, Loid would end up with his head on her lap as her soap opera played quietly in the background. She never said anything either, but he wanted to know what she was thinking. He was too afraid to ask really, so he let it be.
His reluctance to become attached to Anya began to relax one day and he never built the wall of protection again. It was selfish, he knew. Because he would have to part with her eventually, but he wouldn’t worry about that right now. He didn’t think Anya would appreciate being kept at a distance anyway.
Her emerald eyes gleamed with wonder when he showed her a magic trick he learned while he was in the army. He was rusty and it wasn’t as smooth as it used to be, but she was still impressed nonetheless. He thought back to when his mother did something similar. A trick of sorts that wasn’t perfect but he remembered being bewildered.
It was nice to create fond memories with his false family. Even when he leaves, he would still think back to this time as something he would never forget. It would be the only thing to keep him going when the world needed him.
He laid in bed many nights, wondering what he would do if the cold war ended. Would he still work as a spy? Would they still need him? He could become a family man, but he only knew how to act the part, not actually be one. Becoming a “real” family man meant telling Yor and Anya the truth and he wasn’t sure they would forgive him. He wouldn’t forgive someone like him. The lies alone were unforgivable and their relationship was built off a false persona. Loid wasn’t real, just a catered version to fit into the family he was given.
Yet, he played the part with ease. He picked Anya up a lot more, held her hand and tucked her in. She seemed happy, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was a sadness lingering in her eyes. He caught her looking at him a lot and even when their eyes met, she didn’t look away. Maybe he was doing a bad job of hiding the conflict he was wrestling with, Anya always was incredibly perceptive after all.
To say he was being consumed by his thoughts was an understatement. Lying to his false family and lying to his employer about his objectivity towards the mission.
Loid loved his family, which was less than ideal. It was even worse when he discovered that he was in love with Yor. On a quiet night when nothing was going on, they shared a kiss. As soon as their lips touched, that familiar feeling spread throughout his stomach—and not the good kind. He excused himself almost immediately and they never really talked about it again.
Sylvia noticed his behavior as well. He was distracted, jumpy, and lacking more sleep than usual. She asked if everything was okay and he lied straight through his teeth. He knew she didn’t believe him, but prying it out of him never worked as well as she wanted it to. So, she let him go reluctantly.
When he came home late a few weeks later after a mission ran too long, he was met with the back of Yor’s head as she rested on the couch. He greeted her quietly and the lack of small footsteps running to him made it clear that Anya was already passed out in bed.
As he removed his hat and coat in practiced motions, Yor approached him slowly. He watched as she picked at her fingers— a nervous habit he noticed long ago. She welcomed him home even quieter than he did and he could only give a strained smile in response. He walked past her despite his insides screaming at him to stop, to say something, anything.
But he didn’t get a chance to. Yor grabbed his arm and said nothing, only turning him around and bringing him closer. He could only let himself be moved. He should’ve wrestled out of her grip, no matter how strong it was. He couldn’t believe he was willing to destroy everything he had worked for because he “loved his family”. And yet, as she brought him closer and he got a whiff of her perfume, tears spilled from his eyes.
Yor still said nothing. Her hand caressed the back of his neck as she forced him to become small in her arms. He cried silently and he wasn’t sure if she could tell, though he wasn’t being discreet. She didn’t ask him, she didn’t tell him anything, she only waited. And waited for a long, long time before he finally spoke.
Loid told everyone everything eventually for the sake of his own sanity. He told Sylvia that he couldn’t separate from his family, and she only laughed in his face like she’d been expecting it this entire time. He was a little offended, but it was better than being on the receiving end of her fury.
He told Yor that night and she listened and understood. She told him her secret the next day, so as not to take away from his heartfelt confession. She was understandably hurt from being deceived— mostly about the false dead wife— but hearing her own secret spill from her lips made the weight sitting on his chest lighten a little more.
Anya came home asking if they were telling secrets and blurted ungracefully that she could read minds and that Bond could see the future. Yor and Loid shared a look akin to amusement because surely she had to be joking. But they quickly stopped laughing when she provided specific anecdotes that they never told her. Especially when she brought up the gunshot wound in Yor’s butt.
He laughed along with her as Yor’s face grew red and realized then that he felt much lighter. He wondered if they felt lighter too. He’d kept his distance from so many people for so long, it was impossible to get close to people in his field. He thought his job was the end all be all, until he met them.
The rock that sat heavily in his stomach every time he told a lie slowly melted with time. The distractions ceased and he slept more soundly. Both he and Yor continued their jobs with ease and when they had time, they would try to teach Anya how to control her mind reading. It was peculiar— a spy, an assassin, a mind reader and a future seeing dog— but he wouldn’t have it any other way.