Chapter Text
Anya was in trouble.
Well, not real trouble, not like she was getting a Tonitrus bolt or anything. But the kind of trouble that filled her stomach with dread in the middle of class and made her walk more slowly to the bus stop after school. Getting on the bus would bring her one step closer to home, where Papa would see her after he got out of work.
And it might not be tonight, but at some point he would find out she had flunked auditions for the second grade Christmas play at Eden Academy.
Papa was grumpier than usual these days. He felt more annoyed when Anya didn’t do things right or listen immediately to his instructions, even if he didn’t show it outwardly. He gave shorter answers when she asked him questions, and looked tired and slouchy. Mama had noticed it too. From reading her mind, Anya knew that after she went to bed Mama had tried to ask Papa what was wrong. Papa put on a happier face after that, but that was all it was. A face. Inside, his thoughts were still tense and gloomy.
Papa was worried that Operation Strix was not moving fast enough. Anya had not gotten any Stella stars for a while now. Papa predicted it would take at least another year for her to become an Imperial Scholar so he could meet Sy-on Boy’s dad at those fancy mixers. Now Boss Lady was giving Papa more missions on the side where he spied on other big important people who might want a war to happen. He stayed out late more often and got even more tired.
“Oh, you got a singing part! That’s wonderful, Anya!” Mama praised her over dinner.
Anya sank down in her seat a bit. She hadn’t wanted to answer Mama’s questions about the play, but felt bad mumbling and being rude. Since Papa was more distracted these days, Mama tried to help Anya with school more. She kept a little notebook where she wrote down everything that was going on in Anya’s classes and extracurriculars, so she could remember to encourage Anya or remind her to complete long term projects on time.
Papa hadn’t said anything yet, but Anya could hear his thoughts loud and clear. Well, there goes another chance for a Stella. Odd. I thought she’d at least get a speaking role, with all the pretend games she engages in.
Anya chewed more slowly so she wouldn’t choke on her food. Her throat tightened a bit, but she would not cry.
“What’s wrong, Anya? Do you not like to sing?” Mama’s smile faded into a concerned frown.
Papa stopped eating and turned his full attention toward her, his eyebrows drawing closer together as he thought hard. Is she…disappointed in herself? Usually she brushes these things off like they’re nothing.
“It’s just the choir,” Anya said quietly. “Only the backup kids get put in the choir.”
“Oh, don’t say that! You have plenty of talents in other areas, like Classical Language!” Mama tried to cheer her up.
“Yes, don’t be too hard on yourself,” Papa spoke up at last. “The choir is an important part of the play, otherwise the production wouldn’t feel festive enough for the holiday season. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun.”
Papa did a trick in his mind where he purposely stopped himself from thinking certain thoughts. It wasn’t because he knew Anya could hear them—he and Mama still had no clue about her powers. It was because he decided they were ‘unproductive’ and ‘wouldn’t further the mission objective.’ He smiled at Anya, but she could see the faint lines around his eyes from not sleeping enough.
“Thanks, Mama. Thanks, Papa,” Anya said, and felt a bit more at ease when Papa patted her on the head.
—
“Ugh, these rehearsals are the worst!” Becky said as she flopped down in her seat. The velvet-covered fold-down chair in the Eden junior auditorium squeaked slightly to accommodate the sudden weight. Luckily, she and Anya were far enough toward the back that the teacher didn’t notice. He was too busy correcting the posture of the various kids on stage, including Sy-on Boy, who had the lead role of Ebenezer Scrooge. The play the teachers had chosen this year was none other than A Christmas Carol.
At first, Becky had been super excited to play Belle, the beautiful girl who Scrooge had loved a long time ago before he had become a grouchy old man. But after a couple rehearsals, Becky had quickly gotten bored. Belle only appeared in one scene and barely said anything. Still, the teacher made everyone show up for all rehearsals just in case they needed to work on their scene.
“Yeah. We can’t even sneak snacks in here,” Anya whispered despondently.
Becky sighed dramatically and draped her arms limply over the armrests. After a while she perked up and gave Anya a sly look.
“I bet Damian misses you.”
“Nuh-uh. He made fun of me when I got assigned to the choir.”
“How many times do I have to explain that when boys make fun of you, it means they like you?”
Anya screwed up her nose in disgust. “No way. Not him.”
Becky huffed at her friend’s stubbornness. “Whatever, don’t believe me. But I bet he was secretly hoping you would be Belle instead.” Her eyes lit up suddenly. “Do you think Mr. Larsen would let us switch roles?”
Anya shook her head. She knew the teacher would definitely shoot down the idea. She’d read his mind the day of auditions when it had been her turn on the stage. It had been her own fault, really. She had slacked off and hadn’t memorized the lines well enough. So she had resorted to reading Mr. Larsen’s mind in order to remember what to say, but that hadn’t helped at all.
She keeps pausing and stuttering like she’s reading from a teleprompter, the teacher had thought in confusion.
Of course Sy-on Boy had worked super hard, probably with a bunch of professional acting coaches helping him after school, and managed to win the lead role. That gave Anya two reasons to be disappointed in herself. She couldn’t earn a Stella through an outstanding performance in the play. And she wouldn’t get any closer to Sy-on Boy and make progress on Papa’s Plan B.
Thought you’d at least get Tiny Tim, Stubby Legs! he’d gloated the next day, Emile and Ewen smirking beside him.
Well, they picked you for Scrooge ‘cause that’s who you are in real life! she’d shot back. The other kids passing by in the hall had laughed and thrown some oooh’s in the snooty boy’s direction.
Over the past year Anya had learned a lot about how to insult people properly, mostly from Scruffy. He was the adult who played pretend games with her the most, and usually acted as the bad guy.
Today, after she got off the bus, Scruffy was the one to pick her up from the bus stop. Both Mama and Papa were busy (it was a rare day where both of them had their own missions to fulfill, not that either of them knew what the other was up to), so Anya got to enjoy a whole afternoon and evening with her fun uncle.
As usual, Scruffy smelled like a mix of cigarettes and a certain cologne he claimed was key to charming the ladies. Today there was another faint layer of smoke on top of the cigarette smell, which immediately made Anya curious. She scanned his mind and caught some hints of his activities from earlier in the day. He’d met with some shady people in a dangerous-looking part of town, and traded a bunch of stuff.
“What’s the plan today, Scruffy?” she asked as they entered the apartment. “Are we gonna stage a coup against Emperor Mane?”
One of the best games he’d come up with in all the time he’d been babysitting her was a long-running fantasy story where he narrated the adventures of Anya the Rogue. She was on an epic quest to locate the eight jewels of the Ancient World, braving many perils and monsters and wily thieves along the way. Once she got all eight, she’d have to take them to a mysterious smith who would craft a super-shield out of them and guarantee world peace forever. So far she had managed to find three, but it had been far from easy. She’d gotten lost in an enchanted forest, had to outsmart a river spirit, and been bribed into doing side quests for a bunch of dwarves, among other fun adventures.
“Hmm, well, it’s up to you. Do you want to have fun first, or get all your homework out of the way?”
Uncle Franky always gave her these options, even though she made the same choice every time. What kind of kid wanted to do homework when they’d just been cooped up at school in boring lessons all day? But before she answered, she caught a glimpse of something else mischievous in his mind.
“Is there a third option?” she said promptly.
He looked mildly surprised as adults always did when she read their intentions.
“Well, I was gonna sweeten the deal for doing your homework first. I got a special snack from a friend visiting from overseas”—partially a lie—“and was going to give it to you only after you got all your worksheets done.”
She folded her arms as if she was negotiating with the dwarves again. “How about half now, and half after I’m done?”
Franky laughed and shook his head. “You strike a hard bargain, Anya Mistwalker! But no deal. I’ll show you what it is, but you won’t get to eat it until later.”
That was hardly enticing for Anya, since she’d already caught a picture of it in his mind. A box of specialty chocolates from Swissland! Scruffy had removed the few with alcohol in them, but the rest all contained nuts, caramel, or fruit jam.
On a whim she decided to agree anyway. As fun as playtime with Scruffy was, she didn’t like having the shadow of homework looming over her head throughout all their games. Maybe there was something to the whole ‘delayed gratification’ thing Papa was always lecturing her about.
Scruffy was surprised at her choice, but smiled at her with quiet pride as they sat down at the dining table together. He laid out the box of chocolates alongside all her books and papers. She made sure to look appropriately excited as he put it at the far end of the table, then went to the kitchen to fetch glasses of water and whatever healthy snack Papa had told him to feed her.
“So let’s see here, what are they throwin’ at you today…” he hummed as he looked through her assignment pad. He squinted for a while at her messy handwriting, then caught a slip of paper as it fell out from between the pages. “What’s this? A Christmas Carol?”
It was a small ‘Save the Date’ notice to parents for the Christmas play next month. She knew Papa would go so he could schmooze with the other parents and gather intel. He would probably want to bring Mama in case Sy-on Boy’s mom showed up, so he would have a reason to talk to her. But no, he wouldn’t need to convince Mama to go. She would be excited to be there just to support Anya, no matter how unimportant her role was.
“Yeah, and Sy-on Boy’s Scrooge,” Anya said, knowing Scruffy would get a kick out of that. He knew all the details of her friends and enemies at school, and often gave her advice on how to deal with bullies.
“Why am I not surprised?” he chuckled. “What about you? Are you gonna haunt him as one of the ghosts?”
“No,” she sighed. She knew Scruffy wouldn’t be disappointed in her like Papa had been, but it definitely would have been cool to pester Sy-on Boy as a ghost. “I’m just in the choir.”
“Oh, okay. Well, more time to do homework during rehearsals, right?” he said, optimistic as always. Kind of like Mama, but in a more practical way.
“Yeah. I get to talk to Becky in the audience. She’s Belle.”
“Who’s that again?”
“Scrooge’s old girlfriend.”
“Ah, his one true love. Shouldn’t that be you?”
Anya groaned. “Not you too, Scruffy!!”
“I kid, I kid!”
“He was mean about it anyway. He made fun of me for not getting Tiny Tim.”
Uncle Franky rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Again with the short jokes. I know how it feels, Anya.”
“But I got him back good. Called him a Scrooge in real life,” she said with a satisfied grin.
“That’s my girl!” he crowed. “You know, I hope this play teaches that boy something. Maybe he’ll have a change of heart just like Scrooge by the end.”
Anya snorted. “Nah. All he wants is that Stella. And for his papa to come to the play. Only one of those things might happen.”
Uncle Franky regarded her with a bemused expression. Adults tended to do that when she said something ‘too intuitive for her age.’ She couldn’t quite help it when she listened to adults’ thought patterns all day.
“Well, that’s one area where you got it better than him. Your parents will definitely be at the play. They won’t miss it for the world,” Scruffy said.
Anya looked down at her lap and fidgeted with her uniform. “I guess.”
“You guess?”
She shrugged. It was nice that she could share a lot of her school life and everyday problems with a fun uncle, but there were still some things she couldn’t really tell him.
Scruffy looked like he wanted to say something, but leaned away and reached for the box of chocolates. He held it open in front of her, the sweet smell of chocolate and caramel wafting through the air.
“Are the dwarves bribing me now?” Anya asked.
“Touche! Nah, just looked like you needed a pick-me-up. Go on, take one.”
“...Alright.”
She selected the biggest one, all lumpy with crushed nuts, and popped it into her mouth. The burst of sugar lightened her mood a bit.
“Papa’ll only come to the play for the same reason he comes to anything.”
Scruffy kept still beside her, his usually cheerful face looking rather serious. He knew what she was talking about. He’d been there at the beginning, before Papa had found a mama for Operation Strix. They’d chatted all about the mission in front of her when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. He’d even let Papa dress him up as a rather ugly mama—maybe the closest thing to a practical joke Papa had ever pulled.
“I dunno, Anya. I think your dad has multiple reasons for everything he does,” Uncle Franky said at last. He chewed his own piece of candy thoughtfully and put the lid back on the box. “Did he…react badly or something?”
“No…he just…” Anya trailed off.
“Did he look like this?” Franky sat up straight and made his best impression of frowny Papa. The kind of frown that was mostly on the inside. Papa also happened to wear that face when he was uncomfortable from not being able to poo.
“Yes!” Anya giggled.
“I get it. Your dad’s a regular old Grinch. No!” His face lit up. “He’s Scrooge!”
Anya burst into delighted, slightly guilty laughter. “Just like Sy-on Boy!”
“Oh, oh, I have an idea!” Scruffy said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s do our own Christmas Carol play. You can have whatever role you want! More than one role even! And we’ll stage it for your mom and dad before Christmas.”
Anya brightened, even though she still felt uncertain. “Papa won’t be happy if we make him the bad guy.”
“Aw, so what? You can just tell him it was my idea.”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. While she had made fun of her Papa plenty of times, especially early on, nowadays things felt different. Papa was stressed and unhappy. He no longer recited the whole ‘I need to be a normal father’ speech in his head; rather, he often thought of himself as Anya’s actual father, tiredness and hassle and all, until the next time he had a long meeting with his boss and suddenly reminded himself that it was all for a mission. It made Anya sad to observe his thoughts when he came home from those meetings. Papa’s mind was like a gloomy storm, a combination of rushing wind and heavy fog. The urgent pressure of Operation Strix and all his other missions mixed together with guilt and disappointment. And, when she peeked deeper, there was sadness.
“Alright, how about this,” Scruffy said, stroking his chin in thought. “We make it about Bondman.”
“Bondman as Scrooge?”
“Yeah. Like Bondman from the middle of season three. When he gets all depressed and paranoid.”
“Hmm.”
Those episodes had been weirdly serious. Bondman had gotten injured on a mission, which happened every other episode, but instead of recovering quickly and springing back into action, he stayed in a safehouse for a long time and didn’t want to return to the field. No matter how many urgent messages and visits from his fellow agents he received, he just waved them off and said he was a failure. It took Princess Honey getting kidnapped (again) for him to shake off his strange mood and take on the big villain to save her.
When she’d asked Papa why Bondman was acting that way, he theorized that the creator of the series might have gotten bored of the childlike plot and wanted to experiment with some real adult problems. Or maybe he thought that these episodes would connect with the parents who had to watch the show with their kids.
Anya had wondered then if Papa had ever felt like season three Bondman. Maybe he was starting to. But he still got up every morning to cook breakfast for her and Mama, went to the hospital to work as a doctor, and took all sorts of hard missions at night.
“Okay,” she said with a firm nod. “Let’s do it!”