"…so yeah, to put it bluntly, this is pretty much all mine once dad croaks. Of course I'm being flippant, he knows I love him. Still though…(he sips deeply of his drink)…sometimes it's nice to know there are some things in life that I can take to the bank, literally and figuratively."

Catherine lets out a bored laugh over her date's alleged wit, inwardly she glances around the room and lets out a series of patterned blinks with her eye, holding to some ember of hope that someone versed in Morse Code could make out her message.

T-O-R-T-U-R-E.

T-O-R-T-U-R-E.

Unbeknownst to the young couple. A pink haired girl more than understood her vain attempt at an SOS; but of course, the power of telepathy only added a fresh layer to her understanding of Catherine's plight.

{C'mon God, I'm not being picky, am I? it's not like you gotta throw down some locusts, or frogs, or a small kitchen fire. Surely there's something simple you can do to get me out of this nonsense…or at the very least a Nortica Iced Tea to make me think he's funny.}*

{A Nortica Icey Tea?}*Anya thought to herself.*{Isn't that like one of those drinks on Becky's smoochy show?}*

A contented sigh escape's Catherine's mouth as she remembers her first meeting with Rubin.

(Five Years Ago)

She was sitting at a nondescript bar near Berlint University. In her investment with the notes she was using to study for her midterm, she had inadvertedly grabbed the wrong glass and began to take a sip, and then another, and then another.

"Ma'am. Excuse me, Ma'am."

It wasn't until Catherine felt the sensation of a hand around her wrist that she plummets back to earth. Greeting her is a befuddled young man whom while she's seen every now and again on campus.

"Excuse you? Where do you get the…huh…wait, don't tell me this is-"

"My drink. Yes."

"Oh. Oh wow…WOW…WOW that is strong…(she smacks her lips)…Oh yeah, yep. Now I can taste it. Nortica Iced Tea…"

As the bartender freshens up Catherine's glass of ginger ale, she continues to contritely converse with the young man who has since introduced himself as Ruben, a major in Political Science (versus her who has majored in Nursing).

"…again, I know it's no excuse. But these midterms are exceptionally intense. Professor Adams' classes aren't exactly an Easy A."

"Well, I should hope not. We are in college after all-"

"Yeah but, there's a difference between being challenged and being broken."

"Broken?"

"Yeah, last semester one of my friends dropped the entire nursing program because of her, and then on her last day of class went into this whole rant about wanting to find work in a munitions plant when the next war breaks out."

"Oh yeah, a friend of mine told me about that. She got an internship with Blackbell Heavy Industries, right?"

"Mhm."

*{We were at the bar well past closing. And despite having to be kindly but firmly shown the door, the one night became many…for a while. While I may have loved him dearly, Mommy and Daddy weren't exactly ready to give us their blessing. They looked down on his aspirations as well as what they saw as a childish outlook on the world and justice. But as much as I repeated their sentiments to him when breaking things off, I knew in my heart I was just parroting my parents. And now I'm being held hostage and bored to tears by this stuffed-shirt buffoon.}*

*(HELD HOSTAGE?!}*Anya screamed internally as her saucer-eyed gaze turned towards Catherine's "captor". In contrast to the inner monologue of his date, the Brayzen scion's train of thought bought to mind a certain platinum-haired colleague of her father's...except with images and concepts that harkened to something a really bad boyfriend would say on Becky's soap opera.

(Flashback Anya)

Anya had long since threw in the towel when it came to expecting Becky to change the channel. Still, despite being bored to tears over the seemingly similar setups that came with Berlint in Love, the Forger girl powered through it for the sake of her friendship.

"Geez. I thought that date would never end." Becky said as the credits rolled. "Penelope may be a [REDACTED], but even she deserved better than that octopus."

Anya sat up, her interest now piqued.

"Like when Bondman went under the sea to disarm the 'New Clear' weapon? He fought an octopus and won! It was soooo coooool!"

"Oh Anya, I forget what a child you can be sometimes." Becky giggled. "It just means the guy wanted to grab Penelope and get her into bed."

"Like a sleepover?"

Becky pinched her nose and sighed in frustration.

"So this is what Becky was talking about" Anya said to herself determinedly. "I get it now."

"Anya hasn't returned from the bathroom yet?"

Lloyd and Yor were beginning to get apoplectic over the disappearance of their daughter. It had been ten minutes since Becky had told the Forger parental units that Anya needed the facilities, but even she had begun to feel a sensation of guilt of guilt gnawing at her.

After all, she told the girl to do what she needed to do and assured her she'd bat cleanup.

But while Lloyd gripped his forehead in frustration over Anya's carelessness, Yor's mind went into darkness over what vile situations could have befallen her adopted daughter; kidnapped, married off to a pervert, organs sold in a cooler on the black market…Becky, meanwhile emitted an unamused hum before gently pushing her plate away and slowly drooping onto the table; offering only the occasional listless sip she of her drink as the sole example of sentience.

"What's the matter Miss Blackbell?" Yor asks upon noticing the girl's slouched state. "Are you not having an enjoyable time?"

Becky slowly turned her head towards at her rival turned mentor. Between the weary and despondent exhales as well as the glassy film over her half-lidded eyes, whatever strained façade of enjoyment she had been putting up all night wasn't just beginning to crack, but rather out-and-out crumble in the ugliest of ways.

Yet before she could fully disclose how deep her boredom ran, a foursome of furious females made her perk up as they brusquely barged toward the Brazen scion's table; a turn of events that caused Becky's lips to curl into a smug grin.

"Heh." Becky chuckled.

"Miss Becky?" Yor asked again with concern before seeing an outline in the young girl's eye of some rather angry looking women barreling toward the table where the first Brayzen scion held company with Catherine.

"Good evening." The first girl icily interjected.

"Have room for the rest of us?"

"Maybe they've got some spare tables we can shove together..."

"Heh..heh…ladies, ladies please…"

Whatever panic Lloyd and Yor possessed over Anya momentarily found itself shunted aside in favor of the drama unfolding halfway across the floor; the heartbroken harem of girls each one-upping each other as to how they could make the night uncomfortable for Seamus Jr. (who despite all efforts at turning on the charm found himself unable to put out the fire he had started).

"…I'm sure we all can work something out…"

"Oh man. I thought tonight was going to be completely boring for a minute." Becky laughed. "Serves the baboon right."

Pair by pair, all eyes gravitated toward Seamus Brazen Jr.s' reversal of fortune; one minute luxuriating in the glow of a date, only in the next to incur the wrath of nearly half a dozen jealous young women. Through it all, Catherine remained the one spot of elegant tranquility around the bluster and bedlam as she pursed her lips in fury and mortification whilst wordlessly departing the scene.

"Catherine…Catherine please…I know I can explain…"

While Yor covered her mouth in misplaced pity for Seamus Jr., Lloyd's brow furrowed as he cupped his chin pensively.

*{Anya has been in the restroom for almost ten minutes, and now this bedlam at the Brayzen table. All my years as a spy tells me there shouldn't be a coincidence…and yet…that sinking feeling again…}*

The lights suddenly dimmed, and the sound of a helicopter's blade whirred over the restaurant's sound system. With a click, the illumination of a spotlight focuses on a corner of the restaurant just in time for a ladder to "fall" from the "helicopter". A thunderous applause fills the room as Dalton in full Bondman regalia descends.

"Aha! Citizens. What a fortuitous turn of events." He says with gusto upon 'leaping' onto the ground. "I am Bondman and I am in need of the assistance of one of you."

"Anya would be tickled pink if she were here." Yor cooed.

"Serves her right for getting lost." Lloyd said in his usually utilitarian voice. "We'll find her when this is all over."

"For the last fortnight, I have been on a fruitless mission assigned by my commander." Dalton hammily continued. "Yet I have no choice in the matter but to see to its successful conclusion. For it involves Princess Honey who not only sits on the throne of our country…(he looks skyward as a "moon" spotlight appears with Princess Honey's image surrounded by hearts and cherubs)…but also upon the throne of my heart."

Despite her best efforts, Becky found herself getting caught up in the moment. Clutching at her chest and emitting the treacliest of "squee"s, the brunette found herself flushed, invested, and very surprised at the drama and romance that went into Bondman.

"My petition to take this case public has been granted, and my commander told me that my liaison for the mission is among one of you present tonight at this very restaurant-"

"ME!"

Like a can of soda receiving that one shake too many, Becky bolted upright in some attempt at getting Bondman to notice her…an act that worked all too well as the restaurant goes dead silent while all eyes turn in her direction. Dalton meanwhile watched the mental image of his script disappear in a puff of smoke over the girl's outburst.

"Young citizen." He says while still attempting to remain in character. "I applaud your zeal. Truly I do…yet my commander gave specific instructions as to who I am to pick."

With a harrumph. Becky sat back down.

"I was told my liaison would reveal themselves by way of the secret symbol beneath their dinner plate. So on the count of three, I trust you know what to do from there. One. Two. Three. "

With speeds akin to a frog devouring a fly, Becky looked beneath not only her plate but that of the absent Anya Forger. While the underside of her pink-haired friend's platter remained unmarred, hers was a whole other ballgame.

"RIGHT HERE!"

A spotlight falls on the Blackbell girl as she brandishes her plate skyward; the rear of which bears the insignia of Bondman's mask.

"Ah, the eager one." Dalton says as he stands beside Becky and fumbles about his pocket. "And whom do I have the pleasure of calling my liaison?"

"Rebecca Blackbell." The girl replies as she is handed a manila envelope and a plastic badge.

"Well Miss Blackbell, on behalf of ISA-3, I officially deputize you for the duration of this mission and entrust you with this debrief…(the helicopter whirring starts up)…everything should be clear, but I'm afraid my time here has run its course. The fate of the kingdom is now in your hands.

As Bondman ascends and the lights turn back on proper, Becky runs back to the table to go over the debrief. However, it doesn't take long before the newfound lease on Spy Wars deflates upon opening the envelope and processing the full extent of her mission.

"A tummy warmer?"

Lloyd takes a break from internally keeping track of how many misconceptions and falsities came with what he has finished witnessing when stacked against a typical day at WISE to look at the "official" memorandum.

"Princess Honey's tummy warmer has been taken by an unknown member of the League of Evil and hidden in a far-off land. Despite having in our custody a suspect who has all too gleefully confessed, all efforts at interrogation have yielded the three following riddles:

1. We're not the first ones you'd think of as chums. Especially at dinnertime.

2. Loud or not, you can take stock in us blowing you away.

3. Will a swim in our pool bring Treasure and Treachery?

You have one hour, your wits and a partner of your choosing.

The fate of the kingdom depends on you.

Lloyd pursed his lips as he handed Becky back the dossier. Cracking the code was child's play, and of the three codes he could deduce which one would be the most optimal answer. But at the end of the day, it was Becky's mission not his.

"Yor. Becky and I will look around for Anya. Do you mind holding down the fort here if she comes back?"

Every nerve in Becky's body went into Mach-7 speed as Lloyd took her hand and the two of them made their way into the gift shop. As Becky stared intently at the clues she'd been given, the Forger father pursed his lips with equal quizzicality and did a cursory glance around the store in hopes of finding his lost Daughter.

*{Think Twilight THINK! How would a normal father go about such a setback?}*

"Becky. This is important. Don't move." He said gravely while giving her a gentle shove against the aquatic archway. "I'm going to check the bathrooms then have someone page her."

Before she could open her mouth to respond, Lloyd feverishly dashed across the store. No sooner had he disappeared then Becky turned her head toward the bar and saw a distinctive tuft of pink hair leafing through the Commander masks.

"Anya?...ANYA!"

Becky bolts toward her friend.

"Oh thank goodness I found you. You know this show better than I do; tell me how do I find the Tummy Warmer?"