Chapter Text
The bus pulled away from the curb, leaving a man in a drab coat on the corner beneath the sputtering street light. Fog made the weak light eerie, but only the most fanciful of on-lookers might have thought the man ominous as he walked, even and confident, towards a deceptively well kept building. The man knocked on the exterior door, exuding calm boredom as the meek teen who answered ushered him inside.
“The kids are right down this hallway, sir,” the girl squeaked, far too jittery for the kind of reception one should expect from an establishment who purposed to pawn off unwanted children to anyone who came looking.
Twilight did not sigh, and followed her towards his target. Perhaps that was too strong a word. ‘Goal’ might be better. The fog outside rendered the afternoon dark, a perfect time to rescue a small child from an orphanage far less scrupulous than the one where he’d left her the first time.
Rage licked at his heels at the thought. The first place had a good reputation and a middle-class clientele that were more likely to actually care for the children they adopted. He’d hoped she’d be able to find a half-decent childhood. Instead, two families had returned her like a rich brat might return a dish not prepared to their exact preferences, and the second had the audacity to drop her here.
Behind the final door was a play area, full of kids and toys. The proprietor stepped forward, with all the usual small talk and questions he’d expected. What he hadn’t expected was for the little pink haired girl to meet his gaze directly, eyes wide and hopeful as she scrambled to her feet and wrapped her arms around his leg.
. . . there was no way she recognized him, was there? He hadn’t worn this face back then.
As if on cue, she let go and chirped, “Hi mister! Anya hasn’t seen you before, but wanted to say hi!”
He stared down at her. Unbidden, the file he’d burned to spare her any sort of inquiry rose in his mind’s eye. He hadn’t had time to read it as thoroughly as he might have liked, but he’d seen enough to know what was done to her. Those damn scientists had been trying to give the children under their ‘care’ powers that would make them into assets. ESP and the like, as he recalled. Had they been successful?
Beside him, the proprietor coughed. “I’m afraid that one is a bit eccentric, but she’s a good girl. Obedient and smart.”
Twilight waved him off and knelt down to her level. “Your name is Anya? Nice to meet you. I’m Loid Forger.” I guess we’ll find out.
She very seriously stuck her hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you.” She enunciated each word very carefully and followed it up with a brilliant smile. “Will you adopt Anya?”
Perhaps a little blunt, but it worked out nicely for him. He’d come to get her specifically, regardless. “I don’t mind, if you are alright with it.” He smiled gently at her. I won’t be returning you. You deserve better than me, but I’ll do my best, he swore silently. Handler would just have to deal with it.
As if she could actually hear him, her smile grew impossibly brighter. “Okay!”
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Franky passed him a pack of cigarettes. He waved it off. “Oh? Quitting? Never thought I’d see the day.” He replaced the pack with a magazine, some encrypted papers tucked inside, which Twilight did take. Quietly, his long-time friend and informant asked in low tones, “What was with the radio silence last month? You didn’t get hurt on that job.”
Twilight sighed, leaning against the counter with his peripheral gaze out toward the street. “You remember our discussion about apples?” Franky did nothing so obvious as straighten, but his attention became razor sharp. “That little surviving bud did bloom, unexpectedly vibrant.”
“Oh.” Franky fidgeted, rubbing his fingers against the grain of his stand’s counter. “Hell. Who knows?”
“You.” Everyone else was dead and buried, Twilight had made damn sure of it. This wasn’t information he could give to WISE; he needed to keep Anya out of the shadows as much as possible and that wouldn’t happen if he told anyone about her ability. Franky was a contingency plan, someone he could trust to spirit her away to a safe place if something happened to him.
“Yeesh, yeah that makes sense.” Franky sighed. “What do you need from me?”
“A set of papers.” He slid a single neatly folded sheet over the counter with the relevant details. “Blossom needs a chance to grow up safe, and no one else will give her that.”
Franky glanced at the contents, with none of his usual ribbing or complaints. “I’ll get it done.”
They parted ways. Between one alley and the next, a new face torn apart and discarded in one of many dingy garbage bins, Twilight became Loid Forger, newly hired psychiatrist of the Berlint General Hospital and father to one Anya Forger. The fight was only just beginning, but Handler had been pleased with how quickly he’d found the information they’d needed on the last target, and if he kept up his reputation in spite of now having a more permanent cover, she might not even scold him for it.
Anya greeted him at the door of their neighbor’s apartment. “Hi, Papa!”
“Hello, Anya. Did you behave for Ms. Yuna?” he asked, looking up at the woman for confirmation even as Anya nodded her answer.
Ms. Yuna was a reliable older woman, widowed last year, who lived one apartment down the hall from them. Anya had liked her from their first meeting, as good a voucher as could be found, so she’d taken up babysitting duty while Loid was at work. She smiled, wrinkles growing more pronounced. “Certainly. A right angel, this one. Especially for her age!”
He nodded. “True. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” He handed her the envelope of money for her help. “Thank you again for this. It means a lot.”
“It is an honor to watch her,” Ms. Yuna chuckled and wished them a good night as he hoisted Anya into his arms and they returned to their own space.
As things stood, his cover story was that of a new widower, recently moved to the city with his young daughter for a better paying job. It helped stave off judgement and unnecessary scrutiny, as well as inducing sympathy in their neighbors. Anya, ever cheerful about getting to play a part in ‘spy things,’ had gamely adapted to the cover.
She settled her head on his shoulder as he slipped her shoes off her feet once they were inside the door. “Papa told his friend about Anya?” she asked, barely above a whisper, even in the safety of their home.
“Yes, but don’t worry. He’s trustworthy.”
“Okay.” She slumped further, apparently tired from the long day of activities with Ms. Yuna. “Does Anya get to learn about codes tomorrow?”
He smiled in spite of himself, shouldering her bedroom door open. “Yes. Tomorrow. For now, it’s late, and we both had a long day.”
“M’kay.” She was out before her head had even hit the pillow. Oh, how he wished he could do that. He tucked her under the covers, protected by Mr. Chimera who she’d carried with her since before her first adoption.
Starting from her room, as was his custom, he swept every nook and cranny for anything out of place, satisfied to note nothing had been disturbed or added to their home in the time he’d been out. Project Apple might be ashes, but Twilight had enemies and he now stood to lose far too much if he dropped his guard on such matters.
For tonight they were safe, though, so he got himself ready for bed and eventually drifted off to sleep.
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As usual, he only needed a moment to decode the cipher that informed him of his newest mission. This time, though, he needed an extra moment to just. . . stare at it.
The target is the president of the National Unity Party, Donovan Desmond. He is a dangerous man who threatens the peace between East and West. Your mission is to get close to him and investigate his subversive activities. To accomplish this, your first step is to get married and have a child.
The message went on to explain the circumstances and the nature of Eden Academy as the only avenue of access to the target, as well as the deadline of one week. Ludicrous. He sighed. Anya would be overjoyed about getting to have an active role in a real mission, but she was still technically two years younger than the age of enrollment.
She was extremely intelligent though. She’d been making excellent progress with learning ciphers, and learning many other things through ciphers, in just the year that she’d been his daughter. They’d made it into something of a game, a far cry from everything he’d known at the beginning, but that was to be expected. (All her previous experiences with 'studying' had been tantamount to torture. He'd sworn it would not be like that in their home, once he'd found that out.) At any rate, he didn’t doubt they could pass her off as a six-year-old.
Handler was one of the few who knew he’d been raising a kid, so no doubt she’d considered all of this when she’d gotten the orders from the higher ups. He could practically feel her smug smile.
Blossom wants to be just like you, the best you can do is prepare her well.
He folded the paper up, taking some vindictive joy in creasing it with a little more force than necessary. Alright. Well, he already had the necessary cover and paperwork, might as well keep that for what promised to be a long-running operation—though they’d have to move to a different apartment building if it was going to be more than just him and Anya. The problem, then, was to find a woman willing to take up the mantle of Anya’s mother.
Hmm.
Well, no use putting the cart before the horse. The first order of business was to get Anya up to speed on the plan and start preparing for the exam.
. . . Then to find a wife.