Chapter Text
Twilight is a man of action. A man that accomplishes things. A man who is either in a break-neck hurry or asleep. A man whose resting heart rate is well above 120 even though he is as healthy as a professional athlete. A man who has not known a moment’s peace since his home was bombed into oblivion when he was six years old.
Apparently, all of this constant rushing is very bad for his health and not sustainable.
“Twilight, you’re going to die within five years at this rate,” the Handler had said when he turned in a report at the end of a particularly difficult mission. He must’ve looked especially haggard.
“And whose fault is that?” he had asked. She frowned.
“I can’t have my best agent die on me.”
“If we haven’t achieved peace in five years, then I deserve to die.”
This had had the opposite effect on the Handler because she almost immediately tossed him into the WISE medical examination office, a place he avoided like his life depended on it. And, in a way, it did. He knew he was screwed up in more ways than one and was anxious that they’d pull him from the field because of some minor issue. It was with annoyance he sat through the doctor’s discovery of his “worryingly high” blood pressure levels and “disturbing” gut health. Really, it was normal to have multiple ulcers, Twilight had no idea why the doctor was making such a fuss about it. Everyone was a little stressed out all the time, and he was just a little more so. He got the job done, that’s all that mattered.
Except, according to the Handler, it was not all that mattered because he was sent home with a paper bag with strong anxiety medication and a strict order to absolutely not come to the office for at least the next few days. It’s all very pointless. As Twilight trudges up the stairs to his apartment, he curses the fact that there’s no Hippocratic oath in WISE.
“Yo! Twilight!”
Twilight turns around to see Franky trotting up the stairs to catch up to him. Under his arm is a cardboard shoe box.
“Franky? What’re you doing here?” Twilight asks.
“Just wanted to pop in, say hi, the usual.”
“A likely story.”
“Also just wanted to see if you were gonna pay me back for the last job,” Franky says with one eyebrow raised. “I don’t work for free. The cigarette stand only covers so much of my rent.”
“Yes, I haven’t forgotten,” Twilight sighs, “Couldn’t this have waited until Monday? Must you follow me home?”
“I tried calling the hospital but they said you were out on a house call! Which I knew was bogus, so I figured I could catch you on the way home,” Franky says, “I wanted to have some money to spend over the weekend, that’s all.”
“What happened to paying rent?” Twilight grumbles as he unlocks the apartment door.
“Aw c’mon, just ‘cause you never have fun doesn’t mean I can’t!”
Twilight shoots Franky a burning glare before swinging the door open. Anya is already there to greet him—she always is—and practically jumps on top of Franky.
“Scruffy! Are you here to play?” she hopefully asks as she tugs on his sleeve.
“Ah, kiddo, I’m just popping by to make sure your dad pays me back,” he answers while kneeling down to her level and to pat her head.
“Aww boo.”
He laughs but then remembers something.
“Actually, I’ve got something you might like!” he says as he opens the shoebox he was carrying.
“Ooh! What is it? What is it?”
“Please don’t give her anything weird,” Twilight groans. He doesn't like how well Franky and Anya got along. He’s bound to be a bad influence on her in some way.
As Twilight hangs up his coat, he hears laughter coming from the kitchen. The stomachache he’s been nursing all day twists in retaliation when he turns the corner to see Yuri happily chatting with Yor. If the messy kitchen and burned black lumps of dough cooling off on the counter are any indication, it looks like they’re attempting to bake something. When Yuri notices Twilight standing in the kitchen doorway, his delighted smile quickly coils into a scowl.
“What’re you doing here?” he spits.
“Good evening you, too, Yuri. I live here.”
“Don’t you ever work?”
Twilight bites back the urge to shoot back “ Don’t you ever work? You’re always here! ” and instead manages a polite laugh and a civil, “I do, I just got back.”
Yuri glares at him until Yor pats him on the shoulder.
“Leave Loid be, he’s probably tired from work,” she says. When she looks up to meet Twilight’s gaze, a violent blush rages across her face and she turns back to the kitchen, suddenly incredibly interested in the oven. “Come help me make the next batch.”
“Tired from doing what? All that psychiatrists do is sit in the office all day,” Yuri grumbles but he relents and goes to help her.
Twilight sighs. If Yuri is pretending to be a civil servant and diplomat, then technically he was sitting in offices all day, too, but whatever. If anything, Yuri’s being here is convenient. In fact, Twilight never imagined that he’d think it, but he was glad Yuri was visiting.
Things between him and Yor have become awkward.
Two days ago, something between them happened. It was a small thing, hardly a trifle. Twilight is a man of confidence. He is a man who feels no fear and has no shame because he is working towards the ultimate goal: world peace. He is The Twilight , a man who has seduced a hundred women in the name of peace. He has no time for this high school-esque first crush, heart fluttering, sweaty palms, horribly embarrassing, no, humiliating situation with his lawful wife.
And yet, here he was, avoiding Yor because, ever since what happened, simply looking at her made his heart race.
“Papa! Look look look!”
He turns to Anya who holds a thick black pen in her small hands. She hoists the pen as close as she can to his face.
“Say something!” she chirps.
“Why do you need me to say something?” he asks.
Anya grins and tugs on his shirt to make him squat down. She fiddles with the pen and holds it close to his ear. The pen begins to emit a static-filled recording.
“— pa! Look look look! …something! …do you need me to….something?”
“Pretty cool, huh?” Franky pipes up from behind them. “My buddy works at a stationary store and they were just throwin’ out a whole bunch of their extra stock! So I thought I might use ‘em for something useful.”
He opens the shoebox to reveal several of the thick pens. Twilight leans over and picks up a couple of them for further inspection.
“They’re rather conspicuous, are they not?” he says, his brows pushed together in focus.
“What’d you mean?”
“They’re way too big to look like normal pens.”
“Well, I had to make room for the recording equipment! At least they still write! Sort of!” Franky leans in closer to Twilight. “They could be useful on a mission, you know.”
“How much audio can they hold?”
“About a minute or so.”
“That’s awful. If I wanted to record something, I would just use WISE’s regular bugs,” Twilight murmurs as he returns the pens to the box. “You’re better off sticking to cigarettes and gum.”
Franky clicks his tongue in annoyance.
“My talents are wasted on you.”
“You need talents in order to waste them.”
“Hey!”
The comment is mean, even for Twilight, but right now he’s on edge. Both Yuri, the SSS agent who spends every day hunting him, and Yor, the one who is currently worsening his already-fragile mental state with relationship gymnastics, are in close proximity and he needs out. Thankfully, Yor’s been avoiding him too and is currently enthusiastically consumed in making whatever flour and sugar abomination is going on in the kitchen with Yuri. One day, one of them will have to be the first to crack, but it’s not going to happen tonight.
“Is Franky there, too?” Yor calls from the kitchen at the sound of their voices.
“Yep! Sorry, I was just askin’ Loid something,” Franky says as he pokes his head into the kitchen. “I’ll get out of your hair so you guys can get started on dinner.”
“Oh, actually this is perfect!” Yor exclaims with a clap. “I wanted to talk to you three about something!”
Twilight, Franky, and Yuri freeze in place and then glance at each other. Each does a mental count in their heads to see if she’s talking about them or a different combination of people in the already-crowded apartment.
“Us three?” Loid asks with a confused gesture to the other two.
“Y—Yes! You and Franky and Yuri.”
The overworked hamster running on a wheel in Twilight’s head goes into overdrive as he mentally scrambles through his memory, desperately searching for what possibly Yor would need to talk to him and Franky and Yuri about. Surely this wasn’t about the other day? About that? No. Right?
“I didn’t do it, whatever it is,” Franky mumbles, hands up.
“It was probably your stupid husband,” Yuri mutters through a mouth full of cookies.
“There’s nothing wrong!” Yor rushes to assure them. “I just had a suggestion! A fun suggestion, of sorts. If that’s alright.”
Twilight folds his arms and leans against the wall in an attempt to calm the warning bells going off in his head.
“What’s on your mind, Yor?”
Suddenly uncomfortable with so many eyes on her, Yor looks down to the kitchen counter to her last batch of her creations.
“Actually, I was just, um, talking to Sharon the other day. Once a week, her husband and his friends go out to hang out at a bar or something.” She timidly looks up at each of them. “I thought it might be fun if you did that tonight, too. You know, have a guy’s night.”
The kitchen is dead silent except for the faint sounds of Anya’s cartoon faintly playing in the living room. She had grown bored of the conversation long ago. Twilight is the one to break the silence.
“What?”
He’s staring at Yor, absolutely bewildered and confused. He had mentally listed approximately one hundred thirty three topics that Yor could possibly bring up and this was nowhere on that list. Twilight is a doer, an accomplisher, a spy for goodness sake. He does not take a day off, he does not have hobbies, he does not go out drinking with the boys . What in the world is she thinking?
“With him? ” Yuri asks incredulously.
“I mean, I’m sure your friend’s husband is nice and all but…” Franky mumbles. At their reactions, Yor crumples immediately.
“I know. I’m sorry, it’s a silly idea,” she frantically apologizes, “I just thought because you, L—Loid, have been working so hard that I just thought you might… I don’t know, enjoy a break? I’m sorry.”
Ah, she was worrying about him again. She didn’t have to do that. It’s not like she was actually his wife and that they were actually in love. Because they weren’t. They were… well. Twilight has been trying to figure that out lately, but he decides to resolve that later.
“Don’t apologize, I think it’s a great idea.”
No he doesn’t, but it hurts to see her apologize for doing something that doesn’t warrant it. As the words leave his mouth, it’s his turn to be gaped at.
“What’re you trying to pull?” Yuri mutters suspiciously.
“You feeling okay, man?” Franky asks from beside him.
“I feel great,” he replies.
Lies, all lies; he does not want to spend his precious leisure time wrangling two fools like a dad holding his two unruly children on a leash at the zoo. But the Handler did insist that he do something to unwind over the weekend. And maybe this might be good for him somehow. It’ll get him out of the house and away from Yor. And she’ll feel better, too. Things could only go well. He smiles warmly at Yor.
“Let’s do it.”