Chapter Text
Henry prided himself on keeping his work station clean. Everything was meticulously organized — folders stacked by subject matter alphabetically, marked with the proper codes for filing on a later date; the book trays properly labeled, and there was always gas for his lamps (especially on very late nights) and candles just in case he forgot to put in the requisition order for extra fuel; even his writing equipment was never incomplete and always had spares, something Ned Wynert had to admit was rather impressive in his planning. It was another habit of his that served him well over the year as an information broker, and more recently, the head of operations for the Frye twins.
Well, one of them was formerly a Frye, at least. Nowadays, she went by Mrs. Green, though in private confines of their quarters, she had preferred to being called Mrs. Mir.
The thought alone put a smile on his face.
Despite their impromptu wedding aboard the SS Lady Eagleton almost two years ago, Henry still couldn’t quite believe that Evie was his wife. Even with the gold band resting his fourth finger that had served as his anchor, a marker to prove that it did in fact happen, it almost felt like a faraway romantic dream. Well, romantic enough in the sense that they were assassins. It was rather hard for the quiet affair between family and friends Henry had in mind to actually be a thing, though if he was being perfectly honest with himself, quiet and Jacob don’t exactly mix. The plan was doomed from the start.
In any case, it was curious to see a bouquet of flowers on his desk. In the center most part, highlighted by the warm streak of sunlight filtering from the April day, were bright yellow daffodils and baby’s breath tied neatly together by a bow. His brows furrowed as he drew closer to his table, knowing full well who the sender was. Gingerly picking up the bouquet, he fingered the long stalks and petals, wondering what his wife wanted to to tell him.
A bouquet of daffodils mean joy, so it can’t be a bad thing. If it were a single stem then I’d be worried, but baby’s breath? Pure love? Or was it ever lasting love? Perhaps innocence…but that seems unlikely…
He studied the arrangement for more hints, but he couldn’t find any more. No other flowers, no leaves, hell, part of him wondered if Evie might’ve sent a hint in a card. While he was fairly adept in deciphering their meanings, he couldn’t think of anything that might’ve merited a coded message. Sitting himself down, Henry began wondering what on earth did he miss. The flowers definitely were not about business or templar related matters; so it had to be something private. It was not his birthday, that he was sure of, and definitely not their anniversary. Joy and love? Maybe Evie wanted to send me a reminder? “I’m happy about our relationship,” and no more than that?
Something in his gut told him otherwise. Evie had never been particularly shy in declaring — in her own way — that she loved him. Normally, if ever at all she felt a little reserved, she’d leave him tiny notes on his desk. From tiny “I love you’s” to “Don’t forget to take a break every now and then,” and he’d respond in kind by slipping his own letters in her pocket. This however, a coded bouquet was for missions and other equally important matters. Something was bothering her and he had to find out what.
Shrugging, the only person to ask was his wife. Passing a few trains down, he found her in her own car, pacing back and forth, with her hands clasped behind her back. She was bitting her lower lip, and practically radiated a frantic sort of nerves. Quirking a brow, it wasn’t at all like Evie to lose her otherwise controlled and calm demeanor. Oddly still, her message had been overtly positive. Why was she so nervous?
“Evie, I, uh, got your message.”
She jumped, her eyes widening in relief and surprise. A faint dusting of pink highlighted her freckled cheeks, as she closed the gap between them.
“Well? What do you think?”
“Something tells me that the flowers isn’t about you reassuring me of your affections. I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what you want to tell me.”
He chuckled, as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair away from her face. His warm brown eyes meeting her blue ones, searching for a hint for what she was worked up over. Gently stroking her cheek, he could feel her relax into his palm, as her eyes fluttered at his touch.
“Jaya, sweetheart, maybe you should sit down for this.”
She used Jaya. This must be serious indeed.
“Are you sure you don’t need to sit down?”
She chuckled a “hmph” before pulling the two of them down onto the sofa. He waited for her to get comfortable, before pressing on. “Evie, know that whatever it is that you have to say—“
“I’m pregnant.”
Henry’s mouth dropped, and he felt his body go rigid. He wasn’t sure if he heard that right, and whatever gods that could hear them now, he prayed that it wasn’t a cruel prank.
“Jaya, I’m pregnant.”
Slowly, a large grin spread across his face as he took her into his arms and gave her the tightest hug he could imagine, before doubling back in making sure that he wasn’t hurting her or their child. There suddenly was an urge in Henry to scream and hug every single Rook (and Jacob) in a twelve mile radius. “I’m going to be a father,” he breathed, “Oh my god, we’re going to be parents.”