❝This is the first time in my life, that I've been provoked to abandon a mission❞
❝ You flatter me Twilight.❞
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Where, In a world of espionage, two spies with contrasting dynamics like yin and yang-him by-the-book and precise, her cun...
"Loid, why are we here this early?" you grumbled, practically dragging your feet.
"You've got your interview today, remember? We need to finish this now. And by the way, I stil can't believe I had to resort to splashing you awake with water," Loid replied, exasperated.
"I'm not a morning person."
"You. Are. A. Spy. Whatever happened to vigilance?"
"I handed that responsibility over to you the day we got married," you shot back, deadpan.
Loid pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let's just move on," he sighed, knocking on the door.
A balding, overweight man reeking of alcohol swung it open. "Yeah? What do you want? Foster a kid or something?"
Loid forced a polite smile. "Actually, yes. And I understand we can adopt through your orphanage as well?"
"Sure, sure," the man said with a dismissive wave. "Take whichever one you want."
Loid blinked. "Uh..."
You muttered under your breath, "Classy."
The man's disinterest didn't stop you from narrowing your eyes at Loid. "And you! What was that nonsense about not being able to have kids? Were you about to call me infertile?"
Loid didn't flinch. "Yes, and I fail to see the issue."
"Oh, really? How would you feel if I told people we couldn't have kids because your—you know what—is too tiny?" you shot back with a wicked smirk.
Loid turned crimson. "Now, hold on a second—"
"Uh-huh, that's exactly what I'll tell everyone who asks why we adopted," you quipped, striding ahead, leaving him sputtering behind you.
Loid trailed after you, grumbling, as the grim conditions of the orphanage came into view. Peeling paint, broken toys, and a pungent smell greeted you.
Your sharp eyes darted around. This place was infuriating. You weren't the biggest fan of kids, p—they were chaotic little monsters—but even you had to admit: they could be adorable and lovely to be with. Sometimes.
"Don't you dare!" you snapped at a boy who was attempting to wipe snot on your jacket. Yep, still gross.
"Actually, I'd like a child who can already read and write," Loid said, trying to appear professional.
Meanwhile, you crouched and whispered conspiratorially to the snot-nosed boy, "Go wipe your snot on him instead."
The boy grinned, gave you a salute, and did exactly that. You laughed as he ran back to you, victorious.
