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Christmas was approaching fast, and Anya had a mission.
A mere few days ago, upon lunch break, Becky had taken it upon herself to teach Anya about the wondrous powers of mis-sell-toe. This plant, her friend had affirmed back then, was magic: hang it from the ceiling, have two people stand beneath it, and make them kiss – and they would love each other forever. The truth was that Becky had, in reality, no idea whether this was true or not (a quick, accidental mind reading spurt had confirmed it); nevertheless, the young girl seemed absolutely convinced by her made-up legend, and so Anya could only feel compelled to believe in it, too.
“What better way than this magic plant,” Becky had gushed, “to have your parents kiss passionately, like in the greatest movies?”
Anya had shuddered in disgust. “Ew.”
“Think about it – aren’t couples who kiss under mistletoe just the best?”
They would be the best couple?
That made Anya pause in consideration. This could mean a lot to Papa’s very important mission, and if they were the best parents then Anya would be the best daughter.
Anya smirked.
“I’m listening.”
Time to launch Operation Mussel-tow.
One problem quickly arose: neither Papa nor Mama had thought about getting that one plant to decorate the house – which immediately made the mission much more difficult.
Thankfully, Becky had already prepared for such possibilities, it appeared, as she came the next morning with a bunch of leaves and white berries, neatly wrapped with a red ribbon.
“I got it from the best farm country,” she explained. “It should be even more successful.”
The day seemed to drag by almost painfully, and it took Anya her entire will not to groan every few minutes. Thankfully, the evening marked the beginning of the winter break, and Christmas was coming soon.
Soon, her plan would come to fruition.
Anya all but bolted home as soon as she stepped out of the bus, careful not to crush the delicate plant in her care.
“I’m home!” she called out. Bond was the first to come and greet her, as always, and his tail wagged frenetically as he tried to lick her face and inspect her package.
“Bleh,” Anya grimaced as his cold, humid snout came in contact with her cheek. “Yes, I love you too, Bond.”
“Welcome home, Anya,” Papa called from the kitchen. He was wearing an apron, which meant he was probably making dinner already. Anya’s mouth watered. “Yor isn’t here yet, so – oh? What do you have here?”
“It’s a mister’s toe,” she explained proudly, immensely pleased with the puzzled expression that crossed his face. It felt good to know something he didn’t. She kept the magic properties for herself, as she feared it would foil her plan – but she did have an idea. “Becky gave it to me. She told me we should hang it in the house.”
Papa chuckled. “Is that so? Let me look around, then, I’m sure we’ll find a nice spot for it.“
They ended up hanging it at the junction between the living room and the kitchen, at Anya’s insistence. Officially, it was because she thought it looked pretty there – but really, it was because they needed to stand beneath the plant for the magic to work, not besides, and none of the other spots Papa tried suggesting would have worked.
Good. Everything was going according to her plan; and soon, they would –
“...Anya? Why are you looking at me like this?”
“Heh.”
As Anya woke up on Christmas morning, her excitement all but sky-rocketed.
Today was the day – but first came the time to open presents, and she was too engrossed with opening the gifts left behind a mysterious red-clothed spy that broke into everyone’s homes to give things instead of stealing to really pay attention to her surroundings.
Now that it was time for breakfast, though, she was ready – and so she waited, waited, and waited, as Papa and Mama, oblivious to the awaiting trap, passed by each other, entering and exiting the kitchen, until –
“DON’T MOVE!” She yelled, making both adults flinch and whirl towards her in alarm and surprise, although they effectively stopped dead in their tracks.
“Ahem – I meant –” she piped up innocently, although her angelic tone was somehow ruined by the huge grin that spread across her face. “Look up.”
And now, the grand finale. They obeyed, eyes widening at the sight, and at any moment now they would embrace each other and start doing the gross stuff Becky loved so dearly, and they would be the best family ever, and –
and –
nothing.
They seemed frozen on the spot, unable to look away from the hanging plant, rendered utterly immobile after realization had struck them with the tenderness of a brick propelled at the speed of sound.
She couldn’t quite manage to hold back her groan. She loved Papa and Mama very, very dearly, but when it came to gross, grown-up stuff, they could be such idiots.
Anya clearly had no other choice but to go for her last resort, and to give them a last little push.
“Papa, Mama,” she announced, gravely, waiting for them to look at her. “I’m sorry.”
Both gained an even more confused expression.
“What?” they asked in unison.
She ignored them, and turned towards her dog. “Bond.”
“Borf.”
“I need you to execute Operation Bowling. Best of luck, Agent.”
“Borf.”
“Anya, what are you saying –”
“Bond, stop –”
Her most loyal partner successfully crashed into her parents’ legs, knocking them into each other, and their mouths bumped violently together.
Anya let out a cheer. Finally!
She watched as Papa and Mama attempted to untangle themselves from the mayhem of limbs and fur Bond had caused, both red as a tomato, stuttering furiously and calling her name, and she decided: yes, this would do, and would definitely be worth the trouble she’d undoubtedly just gotten herself into.
Such was the life of Agent Starlight after yet another successful mission.