Emma & Ellis Tobias - I'm glad you're enjoying the Damianya moments! I enjoy them too, even though I inflict pain on the frequently 😭 I promise it is out of love for the characters...

Hikari03 - There will be a date in about 5 or 6 chapters! I am trying to be careful of I write them because I'm conscious of the younger members of my audience, but I may write some higher rated content later... I would likely keep it to AO3, although I would announce it here for anyone interested to read it! 😘

DaWnSpRiDe - Sorry for the frustration, this story is a mammoth task to write so I cant imagine the frustration of reading it 😂 You've got a lot of patience! I'm glad you're enjoying the story :)

Thank you all so much for the comments/reviews! I really appreciate them and it really makes my day!

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The sunlight swept across the apartment over the course of the afternoon, casting warm strips of slowly-darkening yellow tones over their books, and soon the light passed over them, too, moving slowly onwards to the other side of the room. The only sounds in the Forger's home were the ticking of the clock, the scratching of pens on paper, and Damian and Anya's occasional questions to each other.

"Anya, I meant to ask you, what colour is your dress for the Imperial Ball?" Damian didn't look up from his notes, but his writing slowed as he listened for her answer.

Anya's head snapped up immediately.

"My what?" Anya paled. "For the what?"

"Your dress. So I can match my tie," said Damian seriously, and then he frowned, and looked up at Anya quizzically. "You do have one right?"

"Uh," she gulped and leaned back against her chair, her face frozen in a pained smile. "I didn't know I was invited."

Damian stiffened, and a guilty look flashed across his face. "Well, I mean," he stammered. "I just assumed. Since we're together, and, uh…"

A stone dropped in her stomach, and then Anya felt immediately guilty for feeling guilty when she should have been happy, like any normal teenager in her position would have been. If it was any other girl dating Damian, they would have been ecstatic. They wouldn't have had to wrestle with so many conflicting emotions swirling inside them.

She remembered a brief conversation over lunch, before she was abducted, what felt like an age ago.

"I thought you didn't like going to these things?" she wondered.

"I don't!" Damian cleared his throat and tried again. "I didn't."

She tilted her head at him, still trying to make sense of it. "I thought you said you find the Imperial Ball boring every year?"

"It is boring," Damian mumbled, "but I thought this year would be… different. If you're with me."

Anya's heart squeezed in her chest, like a fist had reached inside and held it hostage in an invisible palm.

She didn't know whether to feel happy or horrified, overjoyed or overwhelmed. She had spent weeks trying to work towards being an Imperial Scholar and being invited to the Ball on her own merit, but Damian had beaten her to the punch, and of course he would invite her, because he was her boyfriend, and he loved her, and obviously he wanted to go with her so why should she have expected anything different?

Her mouth had gone suddenly dry, and she had to take a sip of water to replenish it. "Will your… father… be there?" she said quietly, every word grating against her throat.

She knew it would be a touchy subject for him. Donovan Desmond was a sword that hung over the both of them - not that Damian even knew that - but she had to ask, not just because it was important to the mission, but because he was her boyfriend's father. If she wanted to make some sort of good impression on either of his parents, or any of his family members, she had to be prepared, even if his father's presence was… short-lived.

But she wasn't prepared for how one simple question could change Damian so much. His eyes did not just darken - they deadened. The vibrant gold tones of his irises lost their lustre, and faded to a lifeless grey tone, void of all emotion. Even his mind turned into a numbing static, sharp and coarse, like nothing she had ever heard before. At times Damian's mind had been fuzzy, or difficult to parse, but it was nothing like this anaesthetised version of himself, where even his thoughts were as inanimate as if they had never existed in the first place.

It terrified her that one mention of his father could do that to him, and she tried to remember how long it had been since he last thought of his father in any sort of positive light, or even at all.

Damian stayed mute as a statue for much longer than Anya was comfortable with, and she was about to break the silence, about to retract her statement, or say something else completely to change the subject, before he breathed in like he had been a creature of the undead, waking from a centuries-long sleep.

"Who knows," he rasped monotonously, and Anya held her breath.

Her heart pounded in her chest, every beat a horrible reminder against her ribs that the man who had meant so much to Damian for so many years, who he admired and revered for most of his life, held such power of Damian even in his absence, just from one mention.

A protective urge rose in Anya just then, and she decided that she never wanted to see Damian look like that again. She wanted to be the reason he smiled, she wanted to protect him from the inevitable devastation that Operation Strix would cause, she wanted to show Damian just how much she loved him, just how worthy he was of a better life, of people who were genuinely interested in him and loved him and wanted him to be happy.

"Green!" the word burst out of her, shocking both her and Damian from the gloom of the moment.

She cleared her throat, and tried again. "I'll wear green."

Thank the stars, his subdued eyes started to brighten once more. "So you'll come?"

"Yes," she breathed, and her chest filled with warmth. "I'd love to go with you." It was the truth.

Damian looked away, something incomprehensible in his eyes, before he closed them and took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax his shoulders.

"Great," his voice strained with tension. Damian breathed again, and Anya almost fell off her chair with relief to feel that the grainy static in his mind had started to dissipate and soften. "Great, good."

Anya hid her trembling hand under the table as she watched Damian coming back to himself, and she wondered how long ago Damian had cut his own father from his heart.

How would it affect him when Strix ended?

"I'll have to go dress shopping with Becky," Anya tried to hide the wobble in her voice, hoping that the change in subject would help Damian to forget his father for a moment. "Although if I know her she's probably already planned her outfit months ago!"

"Becky isn't an Imperial Scholar…" Damian paused thoughtfully. "Who's she going with?"

Ah, crap! Anya froze. She had no idea what Becky's 'secret relationship' status with Bill was. Did she still want Anya to keep it a secret?

Damian watched her freeze. "It's Bill, isn't it?"

"Uh…"

She would have started to sweat, but Damian shook his head, a smug smile on his face. "Anya, you're a terrible liar."

You don't even know the half of it, Anya grimaced as she thought it, and then she hung her head in defeat. "Sorry, Becky didn't want me to tell anyone…"

"Well if she really didn't want anyone to know, she could have tried harder to hide their relationship," Damian smirked. "They're about as subtle as peacocks at a tea party."

"True," Anya sighed a ragged breath, laced with the residual tension of having to keep Becky's secret on top of her own. At least she could be freer with Damian, at least she could be a step closer to being herself.

Damian's golden eyes flicked back up to her, and she wanted to melt back into them. He didn't even know that he could do that to her with just a look.

"What kind of green?"

Too late, his gaze dazzled her, and Anya had to fight to regain her balance.

"The best kind," she winked at him, and delighted in the blush that dusted his cheeks, as he pictured the green of her eyes, knowing that she could see it, too.

After a few hours, when there was a lull of silence, Anya gave a wide stretch, yawning, and Damian tried not to stare at her torso lengthening before him like a sleepy cat.

"My eyes hurt," she declared. "I'm going to take a quick break, do some washing up. Do you need anything?"

"I'm good," he looked up at her as she made her way past him, and he tugged on her hand, pulling her back slightly. "Just your smile is enough for me."

Anya blushed, happily embarrassed. "You're being cute again…"

"Sorry," Damian's hand tensed in hers. "I can stop if you want."

"No, no, don't be sorry," she said as she briefly kissed the top of his head. "I love it."

His voice floated out to her mind: And I love you.

It was still unspoken, but Anya didn't mind. She knew that Damian was still in the process of coming out of his shell around her, that after more than a decade of keeping his emotions locked up tight, he found the new change of pace scary and unfamiliar, but Damian's bravery impressed her more every day. Love wasn't something that either of them had much experience in, but they were both more than willing to try.

He hesitated before every touch. He tripped over words. He didn't understand all of her just yet, but she felt his love for her in a hundred different ways.

Waiting by the school gates for her every morning, knowing that the few moments they had alone were the most precious. Carrying her bag for her, and her books. Getting her favourite peanuts "just because". Asking her if she was warm enough. If she slept well. If she needed any help. If she wanted to study with him, spend time with him. When she would fall asleep against his shoulders, and he let her stay there for as long as she needed to. When he brought her hot chocolates without asking.

She knew he savoured their touches, craved them, and yet Anya still initiated most of them. When they held hands, or hugged, or kissed, it was usually because she asked him to, or she made the first move. She sensed that Damian still needed time to come to terms with his fear that if he made the first move at any point, then he would be rejected. That she would push him away.

So he built himself up slowly with the smaller things. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, gentle pats on her head, stroking her hair, and the occasional caress of her face. Maybe on the surface they were 'smaller' movements, but to Anya they were a thousand times more intimate. They were pockets of love that she treasured.

Which was why, when he did manage to express himself in words, it meant just that much more to her. Anya knew how hard it was for him, and yet he tried every day to tell her that he loved her in every way that he could, so she wanted to return his love every chance that she could get. She wanted to keep the door open for him, so that he could take as much time as he needed to accept that she was there and she loved him and that wasn't going to change any time soon.

One day, it would come naturally to him, and he wouldn't feel that tightening in his chest that he so often did. One day he would say I love you out loud, and then after that, he would say it without thinking too hard about it, and it would all happen organically. As it was supposed to be. One day he would kiss her without asking first, because he would feel confident enough that she would kiss him back, and that she would happily get lost in that moment with him.

Always so gentle. Always holding himself back. Always wondering if he deserved any of it.

Anya didn't think about kissing him. She just did it. She leaned down, and even though the ends of her hair probably tickled his face and neck, and he probably had to crane his neck, he didn't seem to mind. His hands automatically found her face, and his thumb brushed against her jaw.

"I'll stop distracting you now," she whispered with a smile against his lips.

She kept smiling as she walked to the kitchen, feeling like the sun itself beat in place of her heart.

Damian swore under his breath. His pen had just run out of ink, and now Damian was cursed with empty cursive grooves marring his otherwise spotless assignment.

He listened to the sounds of washing-up from the kitchen.

"Anya," he called out to her. "Do you have any spare pens? I'm apparently inkless."

"Just a second!" she replied. "I think there's some in my papa's office, but I'll get it for you-"

"No need, I got it," said Damian firmly, and he scraped his chair back, moving towards Dr Forger's private office. The door was already ajar, so he only had to give it a gentle push to open a bit more -

"Wait!" Anya's voice sounded panicked. "I'll get it, really, one second-"

From the splash of water, it sounded like Anya had dropped whatever she was holding straight into the sink.

Damian immediately spotted the stationary basket on the desk that held an abundance of pens, and he picked one up at random.

Running footsteps.

His eyes snagged on the stack of newspaper clippings, on the pictures on the walls, just as Anya crashed into him from behind.

"I said I'll get it!" she panted.

He briefly wondered how she got over there so fast, but immediately corrected his own thoughts. He already knew that she was strong, that her mother was apparently training her, but seeing it was always a bit of a shock to the system.

"Sorry, Damian, it's just, Papa doesn't like when people go into his office without asking, it's private, so…"

"Oh, sorry," Damian clenched the pen tight in his hand.

Anya looked up at him worriedly. "Are you okay? Your mind's all fuzzy."

"Sorry," he forced himself to take a deep breath, to clear his head. "You just caught me by surprise."

She reached under his arm with one hand and a distracting grin on her face, closing the door behind him with a final click. "I am full of surprises."

Damian's mouth went dry. "You got any more?"

She started. "What?"

"You know." He held her gaze. "Surprises."

Both of her hands pressed against the wall on either side of him, but he didn't dare move. He felt like his senses had sharpened somehow, that the resolution of the moment had been fine-tuned to a series of sensations and subtle movements. Her eyes widened, and he didn't miss the almost indiscernible bob of her throat as she swallowed. Soap suds speckled her hands and forearms like stars, and some of the bubbles had broken free and drifted like snow towards the floor.

"M-my parents, they…"

She cocked her head to the side.

"They're on their way up the stairs."

She released her hands from either side of him, and Damian took a step away from the wall. His eyes didn't leave her, watching her carefully as she stepped back from him.

"I'd better go -"

"Oh no!" Anya exclaimed with genuine horror, looking at a spot behind Damian. "What have I done?"

Damian immediately turned to look at the wall behind him, and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Two wet handprints splayed on the wall, with menacing drops of water dripping down. It could have looked like something from a horror movie. Or a spicy romance. Damian honestly didn't know which one was worse.

(Actually, that was a lie. He definitely knew which one was worse.)

"It's not funny!" Anya hissed as she wiped at the wet marks with the sleeve of her sweater, but it didn't remove the mark, only smudging it a little. "It looks like… It looks like…"

She actually couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

"It looks very suspicious," Damian finished for her. "Your parents might think that we were…"

Both of them turned entirely red.

The door handle of the apartment turned, and Anya shoved him unceremoniously back towards the table, no doubt leaving damp marks on the back of his shirt. "Quick! Over here!"

Bond borfed softly as he padded his way into the apartment first, huge paws almost soundless on the wooden floorboards, and Yor and Loid followed soon after.

"We're back" called Loid, as he put his hat and coat on the stand. "How did you get on?"

"Great, super," Anya cleared her throat as she quickly dried her hands on a tea towel. "Um, Damian came round to help…"

"Oh, Damian's here?" Yor smiled brightly as she entered the dining area. "Great! You can stay for dinner!"

Damian cleared his throat nervously. "Actually, I told the matron I'd be back this evening, so I probably should…" He rose from his seat slowly, but gulped when he made brief eye contact with Dr Forger.

Even though Damian 'got on' with Dr Forger more or less, he still didn't quite know how to act around him. He was Anya's father, but would he take kindly to Damian turning up uninvited? Would he escort him out? Ask him to leave?

To Damian's surprise, Loid only smiled. "Well, how about next Friday? We're having a family dinner, you should come too. Anya's Uncle Yuri will be there, so you can meet him."

We're having a family dinner.

You should come too.

Damian couldn't stop himself from nodding eagerly. "S-sure. Yeah. I'd love to."

Yor clapped her hands together in glee. "Great! We can make something special! I've always wanted to try something a little more adventurous-"

Anya and Loid grimaced simultaneously, and Damian briefly wondered what had happened to provoke that kind of reaction.

"Mama, don't poison him," said Anya flatly.

"I would never!" Yor gasped, and turned to her husband for support, but he avoided eye contact with her.

"Damian," Loid redirected his attention to the awkward boy standing in front of him. "Are you needing a lift back to the dorms?"

Damian shook his head. "Hugh's waiting for me downstairs…"

"Well in that case, I won't keep you," Loid said pleasantly.

It didn't take long for Damian to gather his things together and make a move. His body seemed to move by itself, even though he couldn't think properly through the fog in his mind, but that was fine. That was what he needed. Until he was back at his dorm, he could let his mind swim in as much fog as he needed it to.

Anya saw him out (without a kiss, since her parents were watching after all), but she couldn't get rid of the gnawing feeling in her stomach. Damian was acting so strange, and there were all sorts of textures in his mind that she hadn't felt before, and she didn't know what they could mean. She hoped he was okay.

It didn't help that her Papa stared at her from the corner of his eye.

"What did you say you were studying?"

"Er, biology…"

He eyed the wet handprints on the walls and raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, were you now?"

"Papa!" she exclaimed, horrified, and she covered her red face as he laughed. "It's not like that!"

Anya was acutely aware that she hadn't told either of her parents about Damian yet, but they must have suspected something. Both of her parents were perceptive in their own ways, and Twilight was especially attuned to anything that could be related to Operation Strix - Damian included. Neither of them seemed surprised to see Damian in the house, but then again, he had come to help Anya study almost every day during her recovery,so seeing him study with her wouldn't have been that unusual.

Still, Operation Strix hung over her, and she hated knowing that Twilight waited for her to give him something, anything that he could work with, to further the mission.

Damian is my boyfriend. I'm going to the Imperial Ball with him.

Twilight would be overjoyed. Not one, but two key developments, handed over on a silver platter.

She wanted to tell her Papa. She wanted to share that joy with him. If only 'Papa' and 'Twilight' weren't the same person.

Anya quietly watched the smile slip from her father's face, looking more and more like Twilight by the second.

"While we were out," he swallowed dryly. "I received word from Handler."

Anya could see it in his mind. She knew what he was going to say before he said it, but all she could do was try to stay standing as the breath vanished from her lungs.

"It's time. She wants you to come to headquarters tomorrow."

"Oh, Damian!" Yor rushed out of the apartment building just as Hugh opened the car door for him. "I almost forgot - what's your schedule like tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Damian paused as he tried to remember. "I'm going to the gym with Watkins in the morning, then I'll probably have to study for the exam."

Yor's eyes lit up. "That's perfect! You'll already be warmed up. If you're at the gate afterwards, I can take you for your first lesson."

Damian's eyebrows shot upwards. "Really? Tomorrow?"

He had almost forgotten about her promise to teach him self-defence. It felt too soon, and yet at the same time, it couldn't have come soon enough. Damian had been trying not to think about the threat hanging over them all, had been trying to return to life as normal, but it was difficult to forget. The experience lurked in the back of his mind, pulsing with the feeling that something bad was going to happen at any moment, and that he needed to be prepared.

It only took a minute to finalise the details with Mrs Forger before Damian was able to step inside the car. He didn't speak a word as Hugh pulled away from the Forger residence, taking him back towards Eden College.

The Forger's were always so kind to him, always so welcoming, and being in their apartment made him feel like it was possible to feel at home somewhere. It didn't even matter to them what he was to Anya, they just seemed happy to see him.

Mrs Forger couldn't have been kinder to him, especially after what they went through together to get Anya back from the lab. He had even revealed his crush on Anya to her, but true to her word, Mrs Forger didn't tell Anya a single thing, instead waiting for things to unfold on their own. He couldn't describe how it felt to have her unspoken support, and he often caught himself wondering if that was what a mother's love was supposed to feel like.

He felt all of this, and he knew that their support was real, but at the same time, what he saw in Dr Forger's office pulsed in his memory.

Words flashed in his mind. In his vision. Words tumbled into his sight from the newspapers, and he didn't have enough time to read them, or make sense of them, but he saw them, they screamed at him, trying to tell him something important, and he just couldn't understand what.

Donovan Desmond attends national summit -

National Unity Party implicated in -

Desmond Corporations struck by -

Donovan Desmond -

Desmond -

And those were the ones that he could see immediately. If it was one news article, or even two, Damian could understand (his father's face was inescapable), but dozens? Somehow, Damian knew it couldn't have been a coincidence, but what was he missing?

Why would Dr Forger have these…?

Damian blinked hard to stop the words clamouring against his eyelids. Scratching at his mind, at his intuition. Begging to fall from the sky like rain.

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A lot happening in this one 👀