Chapter Text
The Forger family's ambitions for the early-summer noontime were foiled.
You should have planned better for this, Twilight, he thought in a grimace, lapsing momentarily, surveying the suddenly-muddy landscape that was definitely not suitable for a lunch picnic. Now we'll have to walk back, and then Anya and Yor will be hungry--our food has been soaked; these civilian wicker baskets do nothing for preservation. Should we opt for takeout? We've had that too often this month..
"Well, I suppose it's time for a different plan," he eventually announced, looking up the hill to the patch he'd selected.
Anya tugged his pant leg, which was soaked to the knee, bumping his thigh with his large umbrella, which she alone was holding. "Papa, it was sunny all day, there were no clouds anywhere in sight, you even said so!" she insisted. You're right, peanut, he thought, keeping the conversation in his mind. Yor didn't need to know the depths of his self-criticism.
Bond added a borf of agreement. Loid grimaced a second time, this time at the muddiness of Bond's paws. Well, he was due for a bath soon.
"Anya, your father has many talents, but even he can't control the weather," Yor continued to fumble for her own umbrella, misunderstanding Anya's attempt at comfort for a complaint. "Nobody could have predicted that a cloud would form and just decide to pour on this park!"
He had intended this picnic for them, too -- found an apple tree on the hill, a half-mile walk along the water from the street, but a bit further from home, a perfect patch of grass that Bond and Anya could play on. He bit his lip in disappointment disapproval. Next time, then -- assuming our mutual cover is maintained.
(He'd do everything in his power to keep it this way, and so would she, he was confident. So he did feel comfortable, for once, thinking of a next time.)
He tore his eye away from the tree on the hill -- it was flowering right now, though the petals would be beaten down by the heavy raindrops, so it probably wouldn't be flowering whenever next time was -- and turned back to the path to trudge back. At least Anya was mostly dry. Her shoes would be wet, but that wouldn't be enough to catch cold, and they did have a change of clothes in his bag.
"Loid, what do you want to do now?" Yor asked, finally opening her umbrella over the two of them.
He looked at her. Something about her phrasing caught him off guard. "Well, what do you want to do?" he deflected, "Or Anya? Surely there's something."
"Anya just wants to be inside...." Anya mumbled from under her (his) umbrella. "Don't really care."
"Loid..." Yor's wide red eyes peering into his made him pause, and she stopped alongside and set her hand on his arm. "You were disappointed back there, I could tell. It's not very often you want to do something, and I think... I could tell you wanted to have this picnic. And I saw how carefully you made our sandwiches before we left... If any of us deserves to pick what we do next, it's you!" She brushed a wet lock of hair from his eye, blushing with a soft smile.
His heart thumped heavily, once, in his chest. His wife could read him too well. Remind him never to get on her bad side.
But I planned today for them.
"Yor, love, all I want is to spend every moment I can making you two happy," he emphasized, but that seemed to be the wrong thing to say in this situation, as her brows drew together and her eyes danced over his in concern.
"Loid, when was the last time you planned something that made you happy, other than this picnic?"
"Every time I spend time with y--"
Yor cut him off. "That's not enough; I mean for you. What do you want to do?" Yor drew closer under the umbrella, standing in his face, looking him in the eye. He blushed.
He glanced down the path. Anya was sploshing ahead, eager to get back, far enough away that he wasn't worried about her overhearing, even his mind.
(The first thing they'd done, after finding out, ensuring her safety, and checking her comfort, was test her range.)
"I can think of at least one thing," he whispered with a kiss below Yor's ear, "But it's not a family activity." She reddened, too, and her eyes flicked to his lips as she smiled momentarily, but she pulled back and the seriousness sparked in her eyes again and the smile disappeared.
"Seriously, Loid, is there anything you like to do?" she redoubled her efforts...
What did I do wrong-- damn it, did I take it too far this time... she had been, this was, I thought--
... then softened when she clocked the panicked expression on his face. Yor set her hand on his cheek and he could breathe again as she continued. "Loid, I ... I love you, and you've done so much to encourage me to develop my own hobbies and relationships, and ... I think I haven't noticed you wanting anything, or enjoying anything, that was just for you. It's all for us, and I'm grateful, but..." she sighed as she kissed his cheek gently, and his jaw relaxed. "... you deserve to be happy, too. And I was realizing I wish I knew what you liked."
"...I wish I knew, too," he found the words slipping out of his mouth as they restarted their walk.
"What do you mean, Loid?"
"I think I've spent so much time being who others want me to be. Being other people. The last few months have been the first opportunity--" he looked at her, and somehow he felt like he was telling her he was a spy all over again. "--I ... think I just don't know. What I like. I've never been.... myself, for long, before this, and..."
Yor's heart hurt. Yes, it had hurt more, in the last few months, as they navigated the messiness that was discovering each other, the last week when they had learned what they did about their daughter, but--
Everyone has preferences. He just has to find them.
The gray in his eyes as he shyly admitted to not really knowing what he enjoyed threatened to smother her as completely as the cloud that had suddenly blanketed the countryside.
Does this mean I don't actually know him?
"..but you've said you preferred tartare, and I know you like the art museum, and..."
"...and I curated Loid's preferences to be suitable for this lifestyle," he continued, very quietly, looking down at their feet as they walked. "I might like some of the same things as I picked, but I never gave it any thought. It was irrelevant." He kicked a rock gently along the path ahead of him.
Don't normal people go on dates to get to know each other?
But they'd gone on so many dates, just themselves, and if he had only been focusing on making her happy it meant that he had failed to be himself.
Can people go on dates to get to know themselves?
That was it!
"We should go on more dates!" she said, before thinking any further or harder, and brightened towards him. He looked confused.
"...But Yor, I wouldn't know what activities to suggest for that purpose," he protested. "...I like the idea, though. There, that's something I like, but you already know I like spending time with you." A bashful smile, one of his real ones, and the gray in his eyes was less. Younger. "Though I think you're right; it would behoove me to find something that doesn't rely on you."
Though she'd thought of another problem.
"...and I suppose I'm not exactly aware of most things normal people do," Yor contemplated. "But I... I do want to try new things with you! "
She wracked her brain.
A date.. to find new things that someone might like... but that doesn't involve either of us picking... and which takes the pressure off of Loid to plan what I like...
Yor had heard of an activity that seemed to fit the bill.
"How about a double date? We're right by Camilla's place -- do you think she'd mind if we stopped by and invited her and Dominic to lunch with us, if they are available? We could have them choose the restaurant -- that way you'd get to try something different than what you'd choose for appearances."
Loid looked hesitant. "Didn't she ---?" he mimed throwing hot gratin in the air.
"...she's gotten a lot better this year, I promise! Or I've gotten more normal..." she reacted to his perplexed expression. "...don't pretend I haven't -- I'm not normal! So maybe another reason to do this is so I can see how other couples behave..." she looked at him shyly. "I know you know. But it can't hurt for me to get more examples."
"Okay." He chuckled, the deep rumble of his earnest happiness filling her with warmth.
(How selfish of him, to want to make her happy with no thought of himself. How dare he wish to deprive her of this -- of seeing him smile, enjoying himself?)
Now that she thought about it, she realized she wanted, quite badly, to try these "double dates."
"Loid?"
"Hm?"
"You'll have to do the asking, I don't know how!"
"Mm, so is this why you keep me around?"
Their hands slipped comfortably together.
Camilla and Dominic were, in fact, lounging at her place. Yor was right, Loid concluded: Camilla had become a little less mean-spirited than he remembered.
"You all look soaked! Oh, and this must be your daughter!"
"Ha, they must have been caught in the cloudburst. Do you need a place to dry off?" Dominic offered.
"Oh, you're too kind! No, actually, we just were going to grab lunch -- someplace dry, of course! But we're less familiar with the nearby restaurants--we thought we'd ask you to join if you were free, and suggest someplace new. The rain is less heavy now, so a short walk shouldn't be unpleasant, but it's still not exactly picnic weather!"
(Twilight did, in fact, always know just the right thing to say. He wouldn't think about how he was using his intensive training for this purpose.)
Camilla and Dominic looked at each other. Dominic gestured with his head out the door. Camilla's eyes squinted, then softened, and she nodded.
"Sure. We were just going to order in otherwise."
The group agreed to meet a few blocks away, at the small strip of local hole-in-the-wall restaurants they suggested.
"We usually go first, and decide what we feel like when we get there," Dominic explained. "Sometimes it's easier to decide when it's right in front of you. We're feeling pretty open. Go ahead--we'll catch up."
Inefficient, Twilight thought, then corrected himself. But perhaps a better way, if you're interested in your own wants.
"Papa! What food are we gonna try?" Anya looked at the restaurant signs as they stood under the eaves after arriving.
He perused the shop fronts. He knew what was here, of course; the claim they were unfamiliar with the area was a white lie. A French restaurant. A brunch spot with primarily local cuisine. And a sandwich shop. The latter two are somewhat lower-brow, but still respectable eateries; we haven't gone to either since they are usually just a bit across town and... I have been primarily paying attention to appearances. And if I was picking for appearances today, it would be French cuisine, but right now, I'm not sure which I'd want.
He had almost memorized the menus by the time the other pair walked up behind a minute later, briskly to escape the rain. "Oh, brunch! That's just what I'm in the mood for," Camilla grabbed Dominic's hand. "I could go for a mimosa."
Dominic chuckled. "Sure. Eggs and meat sound good to me."
"Papa, does this place have pancakes?" Anya asked, too short to see the placard.
Reibekuchen. The name of the dish stuck in his mind. It was more Western of a dish than the restaurant's appearance suggested it would have, a potato pancake much like a croquette, served with one of two toppings: applesauce, for sweet, and sour cream and dill, for savory. He had been surprised to see it on the menu, but there were a number of Western dishes here now that he was thinking about it. Plausibly, the owner had heritage they didn't want to advertise externally. Would ordering it out him as Westalian, though?
"Probably, Anya, though.. " don't use reading my mind to get out of reading properly.... "you should see what there is on the kids' menu once we're inside."
Anya's eyes were wide, watching him, as they stepped inside.
"Sorry, Bond, you stay out here. There is an awning; you'll be dry. I'll bring you a pup treat."
Anya insisted on ordering from the adult menu. He insisted that she read the kids' menu first, while he looked away so she couldn't read his mind. Eventually she insisted on ordering the "Rabble-kitchen, BOTH toppings!"
(Loid ordered plain pancakes, with peanut butter. He saw through her plan.)
Yor looked at him disapprovingly--he felt like he knew her thoughts, though he could not read them, probably some rendition of weren't you going to think of yourself for once?--and he smiled apologetically. It was likely he would get what he wanted, and without any hint of his heritage slipping out. He'd tell her later.
You little menace, he thought affectionately. You really do need to stop putting me first. Be a kid. Get what you want.
Anya stuck her tongue out at him.
Like father, like daughter, yet again. You win this time.
"Anya, manners." He smiled and tousled her hair and she giggled into his shoulder from her seat in the booth.
"Sorry, she's a handful!" Yor apologized to Camilla and Dominic.
But Camilla's eyes were soft. "She's really as cute as you say she is, Yor," she said, glancing at her beau. "Dom, she's darling."
Dominic looked back at Camilla tenderly. "She really is. But so are you." He set his hand over hers. Camilla smiled quietly, then looked back at the menu with a sigh. "Someday," she muttered softly under her breath, not unnoticed by Loid.
The rest of the conversation was light, weather, then work gripes, then what-is-it-like-having-a-dog and how-was-she-when-she-was-littler until their dishes arrived.
Anya fidgeted a little in the booth next to Papa ("You sit here, where I can make sure you're well behaved," he had said). Grownups are boring, but Papa's funny when he tries to keep them from asking what I was like before Mama.
"I was always super smart! I learned how to read at four years old!" she insisted, her outlandish claims enough to keep the adults distracted from the Folgers' secrets.
And when the Rabble-kitchen was set in front of her, she took one look at her plate, made a face, and pushed it away. "Don' wannit. Papa, I want yours." Heh heh heh.
She grinned triumphantly at Papa, the sly smile she reserved for her most precious victories, and reached for his pancakes. Anya saved the day.
"...how did I know?" he laughed, and swapped their plates.
Papa can't read minds, but he's pretty good at guessing, she thought, as she took out her fork.
"You sure know your kid," Dominic pointed out with a smile, cracking into the top of one of his eggs.
"What can I say," Loid replied. "She's nothing if not consistent. Fortunately, I don't mind potatoes."
"Anya always wants the peanut butter," Yor added, jumping in. "Just the other day, we made pancakes at home, and... "
As the conversation shifted to be primarily between Camilla, Yor and Dominic, Anya watched Papa cut into his crispy-soft potatoes solemnly and slowly.
It's been a while since I've had these. I wonder if ..
The oil on the outside was still scalding hot. Twilight contemplated for a second, then decided the risk to his palate was worth it. After breaking through the outer fried hash, the interior was soft and toothsome, just a little savory. Loid closed his eyes.
"Croquette lady, one sweet and one savory, please!" The woman handed them over the counter to his upstretched arms, and he set a dalc on the counter, hardly able to see the surface when he stood on his toes. The crispy exterior was hot enough to burn the roof of his mouth, but he didn't care. It was always a special day when he could order this treat on his way home from school.
...
Just enough for one, and no sauce, he thought, as he counted the pent in his pocket. He'd have to clean himself up a bit before ordering; the restaurant workers in this town tended to look down upon ragged preteens wandering in. But it had been so long since he'd had a hot meal prepared by someone else. He'd save for better shoes a different day. He took it with its greasy paper wrapper and sat alone at the table furthest inside, soaking in the heat of the space, eating it one bite at a time until it was cool and sticky and tasted like paste. Anything for a few more minutes of warmth.
...
It was always a good day in the mess hall when the potatoes were just right at breakfast, and sometimes there was even sour cream. Some of the men complained about the portion sizes, or when peel ended up in the hash, but he wasn't one of them. He knew what it was to go hungry. Two Rabekuchen, two large potato pancakes, had always been more than enough. When it was his turn to prepare the potatoes and onions, he made sure the hash was shredded consistently to the perfect size, reserving the peels for crisps. If nobody else wanted them, he'd make extras, no matter if his stomach cramped later.
"What do you think of it, Loid?" Yor asked, and he felt her gaze on him. He opened his eyes.
"It's... warm. Feels... homey. Comforting." He smiled, and the grin spread further across his face with her satisfied smirk. "..Yes, I like it." You have no idea how much.
"Papa, can I try a bite?" Anya begged, now staring between him and his plate.
"You didn't want this a minute ago!"
"Well you made it look yummy!"
"...yes, but wait for it to cool down. I'm pretty sure I burnt my palate."
Yor leaned against him from the other side, looking at his plate.
"Do you think it's something we could make at home?"
He thought for a second. He hadn't wanted to impose his poverty meal on his family. They were already commoners relative to the others at Eden. "Maybe," he said, lying. Yes; I've made these myself countless times. "Though it probably involves frying in oil. You could probably shred the potatoes and... I believe these are onions. I could then do the frying. But you," and he looked down at Anya, "Would have to keep yourself and Bond out. Hot oil is dangerous."
"Yes, Papa," she said, looking at him with big eyes.
May you never know an empty stomach, he thought, smoothing her hair.
"You know, Yor got better at cooking thanks to my help!" Camilla jumped in. "I bet she'd be capable of frying something soon!"
"You're right," he laughed. "I suppose I was just being cautious. Though don't tell me you want her practicing frying in your kitchen--"
"Loid!"
And so the conversation resumed.
By the time brunch was over, the sun had returned, and the puddles throughout the streets were the only indication of the earlier downpour -- nary a cloud dotted the sky.
"Hm, it's actually nice out now!" Yor remarked. "We could go back to the park, if you wanted, Loid?"
He frowned. It was still too muddy; Anya would catch a cold if she played in the grass. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
I still don't have an idea of what I'd like to do the rest of today.
"There's a small botanical garden near here, with tropical plants" Camilla suggested. "It's even indoors, in case it rains again. Yor, if I remember correctly, you like flowers, right? Should we wander through? Now that I'm out of the house, I don't feel like going back right away."
Anya began staring at Yor, who pinkened. "I mean, uh, I like-- plants are nice! Flowers, and such, uh, the gardens! We can go to the--the botanical garden, yes!" Yor clasped her hands together.
Anya smirked.
Loid tousled her hair. "If you think you'll stay entertained, Anya, I wouldn't mind seeing the plants."
"...I think I'll help Mama."
You're a good kid. But you don't have to do adults' jobs for them.
"...just stick nearby."
She nodded.
Loid found himself walking with Dominic, a few paces behind Yor and Camilla, who traveled slowly through the gardens. Yor was naming a fair number of the plants.
I wonder how many of these plants are poisonous.
... he got his answer soon enough. Yor kept having to distract Anya from what he presumed were the most dangerous flora. It seemed Yor couldn't avoid thinking about the hazards, even if she was able to avoid talking about them.
"Mama, do you think plants can think?" she asked, reaching for an orchid.
"...I, I don't know, dear? Don't touch anything!" Yor yanked her away by the back of her jacket.
Camilla just laughed, and asked more questions about the flowers.
"She's great with your kid," Dominic said from Loid's side. "Is that why you married her?"
"...I married her for many reasons," Loid replied, not fully sure what to say. He loved her now, of course, but it had been --
"You love her, that's a given. But you got married pretty quickly, from what I understand. There has to have been something that made you commit," Dominic insisted. "...I ... want to understand how you were so sure, so soon." He twisted his watch on his wrist. "Is it because you have the money--? I mean, as a psychiatrist, I know you're probably not concerned about being able to provide--"
Oh. Yor has said they've been together a while, now, and Dominic's yet to propose.
...I'm the last person who should give advice on this...
"Hm. Well..."
Twilight gathered his thoughts as he watched Yor pull Anya from yet another hazardous plant.
"Money helps, but it isn't everything; I'd have married her rich or poor," he eventually said. "And... . If you're waiting for a sign, I guess I don't believe in those. I guess the thing is," Loid looked at his wife with affection. "...I've always admired and trusted her." Even before I realized it. "I knew we'd figure it out together. I didn't need to have everything perfect first," even though she would have deserved it.
Dominic looked at the two women in front of them. "...Were you scared?"
"Terrified."
"Would you do it again?"
"In a heartbeat."
"Hm."
"So, Loid, did you have a good time today?" Yor asked, as he was preparing their evening tea, and she sat on the couch.
"I did," he replied. "And, for the record, I did eat a lunch I wanted." He sat close to her. "It's a Westalian breakfast, comfort food; I haven't had that in... I'm not sure how long -- it brought back memories. How about you?"
Yor set his hand on her knee. "I'm glad. And... it felt good, I think, talking with them. You seemed to make it easier for me to be myself, and I'm not entirely sure if it's just because you're around or if you're steering the conversation, but I really do feel more normal with you around."
"I don't think I did much to steer the conversation--that was all you. I think you just need to stop second-guessing yourself. I ... love seeing you with your friends. It makes me happy, seeing you so at ease." He relaxed next to her, setting his head on her shoulder, looking up at her face.
"So you know how I feel when I see you're happy." Yor responded pointedly, grinning at him, and he blushed as she intensified it with a kiss on the forehead. "...and did you like the gardens? What were you and Dominic talking about?"
"I think I did like the gardens, but it may have been your presence that made them so pleasant. And maybe without Anya-- she's a danger magnet. Anyway, I'm not opposed to going again. Oh, and, well, Dominic and I talked about relationships--" his ears reddened further. "Don't tell Camilla!"
Yor giggled. "I know better than to talk to Camilla about anything relationship-related! ... but anyway, Loid--um, could we... do you think it might be nice to keep going on double dates? With, I mean, not just Camilla and Dominic, but other people?"
"... I do. Do you want to make this a new habit?"
Yor clenched her fists onto her lap in determination. "Yes! I'd like to become the master of double dates!"
Loid felt a single full-hearted peal of laughter erupt from his chest, then he breathed to calm himself. "...okay, Yor. I had fun today. We'll do it again."