Work Text:
He woke up with the sound of hushed steps on the carpet ten minutes ago.
He didn't move yet, nor did he open his eyes. It was a bit of a game, as he tried to picture her movements in the dark. How she tried to leave the bed without waking him up and failing miserably, how she went to shower and debated whether she should wash her hair or not (because she couldn't use the hairdryer and her natural hair wouldn't be the most fashionable), how she dressed herself after picking the discarded clothes out of the floor (and maybe, just maybe, forgetting her bra on purpose because she liked that kind of play) and, finally, how she looked one more time at him on the bed in a silent farewell. No goodbye kisses, not even a "see you later". She knew he wouldn't like it and she still decided on it. He wasn't mad right now, but he would be later, for many reasons that were yet to be discussed. Still, he decided to let her go after she left through the main door of the hotel room.
Except... Anya didn't pick the door. No, she went to the balcony.
Sensing the odd choice of exit, Damian had to open his eyes and turn to the side to confirm his suspicion. And yes, there was Anya, in the cold early morning breeze, ready to jump over the balcony to go wherever. He just had a vague idea of what she planned to do, but already decided it was too much.
"You're still the loudest person I've ever met." He said loud enough for her to freeze her step. "In and out of bed."
Anya turned around, giving him a full view of her in a closed trench coat and ankle boots. It was still quite dark, the sky yet to be fully painted in the morning light, but he could already make the lines of a raised, offended eyebrow.
"That's rude, you know." She said resting her weight roughly against the glass sliding door. "I'm a professional."
He rose from the bed slowly, giving her the private show of messy curly hair and well-toned arms and abs that she enjoyed rightfully last night, thank you. He covered himself with the black silk robe that she absolutely loved to tease because of the embroidered initials "D.D" that were the epitome of snobby people culture. He liked to joke that she should have one herself with an "A.D".
It was an humourless joke, because she still hasn't accepted his proposal. Also, she kept changing names.
"If all the agents at Westalis are like you, I guess they have a problem." He mocked joining her on the balcony. It was so cold out here, he wanted to just grab her hand and return to bed.
"They're not like me." She said looking up at him as he circled her waist with his arms. "I'm the best. Didn't you know?"
"Sure." He said before depositing a long enough kiss on her lips as a proper 'good morning'. "Not that I care about the others, though. Only you can grab my attention."
And boy, did she grab it well. For as long as eight years, as of now.
The relationship status between WISE's most prominent spy, Agent Starlight, and the current secret head chief of Garden, Senator Damian Desmond, could be vaguely described as 'whatever'. They were whatever they wanted, whenever they seemed fit, as long as it satisfied their works' needs and maybe their personal ones, as well.
If one wanted to look at it through very cheesy and romantic lenses, they could be described as highschool sweethearts. At the time they were 15, Damian had just been formally introduced to his role in the Ostanian underworld and Starlight was infiltrated at Eden as part of an important mission for WISE.
They had their ups and downs, but they just couldn't be apart of each other after that. Even if she loved the feeling of belonging to nowhere as she helped the world achieve world peace, Starlight loved to know that she had someone to go back to when things weren't okay. And Damian was always ready to receive and spoil her however he liked. Being her Olivia, Marianne, Stella, Anya... He learned to play his part when the time called. So, for the rest of the world, Damian Desmond was a man prone to jump from a fling to another without bigger issues. For those closest to him, he was loyal to one woman only, with the added bonus of maintaining amicable relationships with Westalian intelligency.
Right now, though, she was just Anya. His Anya, who he finally got to see again after a ridiculous amount of time and now seemed ready to jump onto another deadly mission as he watched from the sidelines feeling completely useless. The mad Damian from earlier? Now he was properly awake to think over how some things didn't click. But he would take things slow with her.
Hugging her from behind, they both worked as convenient heat sources for each other against the cold wind. As they watched the capital slowly wake up to a new day, Damian broke the silence.
"We're on the tenth floor and you still wanted to go out like this." He pointed briefly to the edge of the balcony. "Aren't you afraid of falling down to your certain death?"
Anya mulled over a reasonable excuse, even if she knew it wouldn't work on him. She could lie to a hundred people, but Desmond just had that effect on her.
"I didn't want to wake you up. You were sleeping so soundly, I know you're a busy man." She said with a light shrug, before glancing down at her wrist watch. "And I'm a busy woman, too. I need to leave asap before my Handler wrecks havoc."
Damian tsked, tightening his hold around her.
"She is the havoc." He mumbled. "What is so important that you have to leave before dawn?"
"Maybe a coup in the far south?" She said trying to turn her head to see him, to no avail. "You should know about it, you were talking with them just last week."
"I did." He agreed, light hearted. "And they were such refined gentlemen, I'm sure they can wait just a couple days before blowing their Parliament."
Anya giggled, with just the right amount of sincerity to not look out of place. But he knew how her smiles should look like. Right now, she wasn't convinced in what he said.
"You're so optimistic." She said making an effort to leave his embrace and enter the room again, probably opting for the front door this time.
He held her in place by grabbing her arm. They locked eyes and Damian looked the utmost sincere and vulnerable right now, only wishing for one simple thing:
"... Just one more day." He whispered. "Please."
Anya swallowed dry.
"Damian..."
"How many wars do you have to stop before I'm allowed to know, for sure, when you're coming back?" He said with a deep frown.
Anya mirrored him with a displeased face of her own.
"The same number of nights I spend wondering if this is the time some old narco will pull the trigger on your face." She said coldly. Anya didn't want to have this talk today, definitely didn't. "Please, don't make it harder for me, Damian. For us."
He let go of her, his eyes unchanged even after such a pointed comment. He didn't like how things were right now and he wasn't in the mood to ignore it this time.
"Two years ago, you were away for three weeks. Then two months. Three. Now I only see you after seven." He said calmly, but his patience took a nosedive when Anya had the nerve to roll eyes at him. "This is not me being clingy. Things are getting heavy around here and I wonder if WISE is too stupid to realize you can't save the entire world on your own."
"I am their best agent." She rebuked with the obvious. "But I don't work alone. We're going through difficult times and I'm just taking more jobs than the usual..."
"There are two brand new bullet wounds on your leg." He hissed that as if it was a personal offence. Anya stood quiet. "You were hurt because you were tired, overworked, overwhelmed, and whatever word you want to put here. And my only question is when, Anya? When are you actually taking time for yourself instead of being the sacrifice lamb of a country that doesn't give a shit?!"
"Again, we're two sides of the same cheap coin!" She said louder, opening her arms for good measure. "People might think that you're so high and powerful with your syndicate, but we both know that if the Ostanian government really wanted to, they could wipe Garden off the board and you would be the first to go!"
She finished that with an accusing finger on his chest and, just this time, Anya was thankful she couldn't hide anything from him. Because if he paid attention, he would see how her mask cracked slightly at the mere thought of something happening to him while she was away. Damian was powerful and very capable of taking care of himself. But there are days luck isn't on your side and you might just go.
What if one of these days it's him and not her?
She sighed deeply, tiredly, with a palm over her face. That was a quiet blow on Damian and he just knew he had lost that fight seeing her like that.
"We're pawns, Damian. We chose this life and what it implied." She said meekly at first, but then stared up at him with the confidence that only Anya, way more than Agent Starlight, could give. "And instead of sitting pretty and quiet as the little Senator's wife, I'd rather go kick some anarchists' butts."
That was it, the one thing Damian shamed himself for even dreaming about it. It just reminded him of a younger, darker version of himself that wanted everything to go according his wishes, including Anya.
Why? Why couldn't a man who ruled over assassins, instilled fear in criminals and bathed himself in luxuries couldn't have the one woman he always dreamed about?
Because Anya just wasn't like that. At least, not for now. She had places to see, missions to complete and people to save. He couldn't keep her locked in the metaphorical cage of a young mistress under the excuse of keeping her safe. God knows that a spy and a crime boss' wife were equally dangerous roles to take.
All he could do was wait and work harder for the day the world was peaceful enough to allow her to settle down for a quieter and safer life, ideally with him by her side.
"Yeah. I know." It was all he could say, avoiding her eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't want this to escalate into an argument."
She sighed, this time more softly.
"We're both at fault." She said hugging him again, for which he responded with a tight, needy, hold. "I miss you, too. A lot."
Not more than I do, he thinks to himself, accepting resoluted how dependent he was on that woman.
A chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth slowly turned into a heated make out session, as Anya willingly prolonged her stay and Damian busied himself in getting her out of those clothes a second time that day and finally return to the bed.
There was a ringing and vibrating sound coming from her coat's pocket and she had to end the kiss to breathlessly mutter:
"It's Handler..."
Damian wasn't having any of it, so he would resort to drastic measures.
"I'll talk to her." He said picking the boxy communication device out of Anya's hand for her definite surprise and shock. "I'll get you one more free day."
"Damian, no!" She said horrified at the embarrasment of having Damian answering her phone call from Becky, out of all the people. "Give it back!"
He went with the childish but effective strategy of raising the device high above her head, which did make it difficult for her to reach as he was ridiculously taller than her and she wasn't in heels. Before she could punch his gut as she did in highschool, he brought the com to his ear and greeted.
"Good morning, Miss Blackbell!" It was loud, cheerful, fake and pretty much like every greeting to rival candidates he did. "It's so refreshing to hear you at 6 AM. How can I help you?"
There was a pause and Anya wished Becky would just turn off and come back later. She didn't.
"...Desmond." The disgust was very clear even through a static filled audio. "Return the com to Starlight, this is extremely unprofessional."
"Oh, you see, this won't do." He said as he pulled Anya into bed with him. She hid her face in a pillow, determined to not come out until that talk was over. "I'm kidnapping Agent Starlight for the unforeseen future. We ought to do a thorough interrogation with her."
For good measure, he gave a light squeeze to her bum to which she responded with a yelp that was surely heard by her Handler. After all, Anya was loud.
"Desmond, you're so damn gross, I'm disgusted."
"You're just jealous, you poor little single woman." He said with a condescending tone that made the woman on the line seeth. "You better give me a very convincing reason on why she needs to leave the city today if you want her to work."
"She needs to be in Tavora tomorrow and the train leaves in two hours-"
"I have a jet plane that can leave her in Tavora in three. With refreshments." He said bored. "Next."
"She needs to be in disguise and get intel before arriving. This takes time."
"I can help her dress up, no problem." He turned to Anya who was side eyeing him and mouthed 'I'm better at taking it off, though', to which she slapped him on the arm. "You guys can fax us the intel, can't you?"
"I'm not faxing you shit, Desmond, just make sure she is on that damn island by tomorrow at 7!" She exploded on the line and they could half imagine her crushing a plastic cup. "Now pass the com to Starlight before I call the Interpol on you, you bastard!"
"Thank you for the conversation, it was amazing doing business with you, Miss Blackbell." Senator Desmond was an ace at diplomacy, after all. He gave her the com and then realized something. "Oh, I forgot to mention this old oil tycoon she would surely fall in love with!"
Becky was loud enough on her cursings for both of them to hear and Damian considered it a victory to make her day a little bit worse. But they had a common ground on Anya's happiness and for that he was thankful.
After discussing the details on the final arrangement with the Handler, and assuring her that this wasn't a real kidnapping and that she would really go work the next day, Anya finally ended the call and turned to her boyfriend.
"You got your extra day."
"I did." He nodded, pulling the blankets over both of them. "Now go back to sleep, you damn workaholic."
"Sleep?" She asks innocently. "I thought you needed to interrogate me."
...Well, he wouldn't dare to go against the wishes of the future wife of the Desmond household, after all.