forum Spies One-On-One (Closed)

Started June 07, 2018 by @Imperfect_Autumn group

tune

“Yes, you are,” Anya smiled. “Can I take a pancake now?”

"Am not," Spencer muttered before grabbing a plate and handing it to Anya. "Yes, you may. Feel free."

“Hooray!” Anya took a pancake, then remembered her manners and said, “Thanks,” then ate it.

Spencer smiled and put a few onto his own plate, then drowned them in syrup. He grabbed a fit from the drawer and started to eat, leaning against the table. He watched Anya eat while he did the same, a hint of a smile ever-present on his face.

“So,” Anya said after her seventh pancake. “When did you learn to cook? Between missions? As a side hobby? During a mission?”

"My mom taught me, actually," Spencer said softly, looking down at his plate. "She started teaching me when I was little, that way I would be able to cook whenever I needed or wanted to."

Anya froze. She never knew what to do in real personal situations. At a loss, she nodded slowly, not really looking at Spencer. Before she knew what she was saying, she whispered, “I wish I had that.”

Spencer glanced up at Anya when she spoke. He set his plate down and made his way over to her, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle embrace.

"Can I ask what happened?" he murmured into her hair.

“I don’t know,” Anya whispered. “I looked. Everywhere, anywhere I thought there might be anything. But there wasn’t.” She paused, drawing in a shaky breath. “I’m a ghost. As far as the records go, I was not born, I am not truly alive— just a ghost.”

Spencer sighed and held her closer, closing his eyes tightly. He knew how it was to not find the information you desperately needed to know what happened and who you are. He went through it every day.

"I'm sorry," he managed to choke out. "I sort of know how you feel."

Anya couldn’t stop a tear from escaping her eye as she buried her face in his shirt. “Do you need to… I mean, you don’t have to…. can I do anything to… to help you?”

"Unless you have access to top-secret, possibly-nonexistent files on a suspicious case, I don't think so," Spencer sighed, tightening his hold on her. "But you can keep me company. What can I do for you?"

“Just be here,” Anya whispered, wrapping her arms around his chest. She paused a moment before adding, “If you, ah… I could probably get access to those files, if you want.”

Spencer blinked and pulled away sharply. "That's not funny," he monotoned, searching her face. "Please tell me you're not joking."

Anya shook her head. “I know what it’s like to get your hopes up and have them crushed, so don’t raise yours too high. But yes, I might be able to really get the files. If they exist.”

Spencer grinned. "That would be great! Even if you can't, it's still good to try."

“Definetly,” Anya agreed, smiling. She wiped a tear from her eye and said, “Okay. Pancakes, then files. Deal?”

"Deal," Spencer said before bending down to press a quick kiss to her lips. He released her from the hug and picked up his plate. "I do have a table, you know. We don't have to stand here."

“Right,” Anya nodded. “Table.” She put a normal person amount of pancakes on her plate— which was a shocker in of itself— and then dumped syrup on them, and then sat down at the table, and then the writer was like oh wow that’s a lot of ‘and then’s but oh well.

(Lol.)

Spencer chuckled and sat across from her. He had a few pancakes with syrup on his plate, and he continued to eat them.

"You enjoying them?"

Anya nodded, her mouth full. Once she had swallowed, she said enthusiastically, “Yep!”

"I'm glad," Spencer said with a light laugh. He finished his second pancake and moved on to his third.

“Wow, only on your third?” Anya said jokingly, finishing her fifth pancake.

"Hey, it's not my fault you're basically a beautiful, human trash can!" Spencer said defensively, finally finishing his third.

“That was a very contradictory statement,” Anya laughed, beginning her sixth.