Yor's anxiety spiked the moment she walked in on Monday and spotted the Director waiting for her by her desk.

'Is Shopkeeper calling?' she pondered, 'Do I have another big mission?'

She tried scanning his expression to get any hint on the situation behind his sudden presence, but he looked as austere as he always did.

He nodded to her in greeting as she approached, "Forger, are you ready for our meeting?"

"Ye-yes, sir."

"Very well. Follow me."

Her anxiety spiked even higher as she complied and quickly realized that they were not heading for his office, as usual, but towards the entrance of city hall itself.

This would be no simple phone call. Whatever this was about was important enough for Shopkeeper to want to see her in person. Immediately. As they walked, she couldn't help but think of the last time such discretion had been needed – the headstrong and kind woman who could no longer be called Olka Gretcher, the brave man who stood by her side, and the warm, smiling boy who looked perfect in her arms.

"Those hands of yours," the second person ever to really see her had said, "are the reason this child has a future."

Yor wondered how all of them were doing now, with the freedom she had worked hard to give them.

Shopkeeper's garden was as breathtaking as ever. Although she rarely entered it, these days, the well-groomed trees and healthy, blooming flowers all around her never failed to calm her mind and slow her heartbeat. Green, yellow, pink, purple, red – as Shopkeeper often reminded her, this rainbow would not exist without people like her cutting away the rot that threatened it.

Life. Tended to by a man who ordered death. It was one reason why she respected him so much.

It didn't take long to find him in this sanctuary. His thick hair swayed in the light breeze as he watered a patch of flowers with delicate, blue petals popping out amidst green. As Yor approached, he rose to his full height.

"Ah, Thorn Princess," he said with warmth in his voice, "Welcome."

"The periwinkles look like they're blooming wonderfully," she responded politely, pointing to the blue.

"Yes," he nodded back, "Such small buds, and easy to overlook, but hardy. As long as the soil is fertile for their development, they will grow, no matter the terrain, and emerge with such elegant color that future hardships will find difficult to tarnish," he smiled, "Reminds me of you."

Yor felt her face heat, "I-I'm glad you think so highly of me, Shopkeeper. I always do my best!"

He nodded again, watching her closely, "It is not immune to pests and mold, though, so despite its hardiness, careful attention is still needed to maintain their brilliance."

"Oh, wow!" Yor whispered as she bent to better appreciate the almost star-shaped flowers. She had learned about plants over the many years of being around her mentor, but she still didn't know as much as he did. It was impressive, the amount of knowledge he had acquired for his hobby.

He finally put down his watering can and turned to face her fully, "Have you paid such attention to any threats in your own life?"

Yor blinked. Threats? In her own life?

He clearly read the confusion on her face, "Just like the roots of the unassuming periwinkle, our organization is hardy and widespread. We use our strengths where we find them in order to attain world peace, and we have eyes and ears everywhere…"

Yor didn't know where this was going so she just nodded slowly.

"The underground world whispers amongst itself," Shopkeeper continued, clasping his hands behind his back, "And we listen."

He tilted his head and produced a small photograph from his gardener's apron. Yor took it from his hands and almost dropped it when she realized who the subject was.

"Tell me, Thorn Princess, why is the name 'Forger' being whispered these days?"

XXX

After ditching his stalkers on Sunday, Twilight had swept his residence to make sure there were no recording devices. Thankfully 128 Park Avenue was clean, but he was unsure if the landline had been tapped, so that form of communication was a no-go. His device for sending coded messages, that he kept under his bed, seemed untampered with, but was too rudimentary to be adequate for the complexity of this situation. He couldn't go to Franky, meet up with any WISE agents in public, or go to headquarters, either, with his new shadows.

It was always two of them. On Monday, it was the man and woman he had evaded on the weekend. Yesterday, it had been two different men. This morning, it had been the man from the weekend and one of the men from yesterday. They followed him everywhere out in public. On foot, they followed him on the streets and onto any public transportation he took be it the tram or the metro. If he entered a building, one would follow him in while the other waited outside. With this thoroughness, and the number of people dedicated to his surveillance, Twilight knew that the organization whose attention he had caught was not small. But, given that his new shadows were most likely related to the situation with Anya, he shouldn't be surprised.

He quickly discovered their limits. First, they didn't seem to know his exact address yet; on Monday, he only noticed their presence about three or four blocks out from 128 Park Avenue – at the fake address one would get if they searched up 'Forger' in a phonebook, so that confirmed that they did know his false name and not just his face – and he went to great efforts to make sure they couldn't follow him home from the hospital. As organized as they were, his shadows seemed to be somewhat amateur, so escaping them was generally easy. The annoying part came with having to give them the slip while trying to maintain his cover as an ordinary civilian; it had to be in a way that could be chalked up to them not paying attention or losing sight of him in a crowd. Their own mistakes, rather than any skill on his part. The café he had used to evade them on Sunday was a perfect location to duck into and either quietly escape through the back or put on a disguise in the bathroom and walk back out the front, or he'd disappear into the evening rush on the metro, no matter how much it made his nerves itch. Aside from that first morning when he'd made eye contact with the tall man in the café, he made sure not to acknowledge his tails at all. He didn't know how they would escalate things if they were made aware that he knew he was still being followed.

Secondly, if he went out in a car, he remained undetected which meant they didn't recognize vehicles that they didn't see him enter directly and, since they didn't know his car, they didn't know his license plate. That would be helpful if their surveillance of him became a long-term affair, since there would be some days that he'd want to go out unmolested. But he wanted to nip this in the bud as quickly as possible, which meant letting them tail him close enough that he could learn about them too. So, the car was also a no-go for now.

Most importantly, though, it seemed like they couldn't follow him into Berlint General Hospital. The hospital, thankfully, took security very seriously, and everyone who walked through the doors either needed a staff ID or had to register as a patient or visitor at the front desk. His shadows would watch him enter the building, and be waiting for him outside if he left, but he knew they wouldn't dare do anything to leave a record of their presence. And he was sure they didn't have anybody tailing him within the building since he had long memorized the faces of all the staff that came close to him on a daily basis and there were no new faces among them.

Still, he took three days to make sure that was the case before he felt comfortable enough to debrief Nightfall in his office. Twilight entered his office on Wednesday, conducted his usual sweep for bugs, and called her.

"Report."

She stood before him as stiffly as ever, "Mr. Roche's weekend was quiet. He stayed in his home with his family except for two occasions – he took his son to a nearby playground on Saturday morning, and went on what looked like a date with his wife that evening after a neighbor arrived to watch their son. They drove to an upscale restaurant called The Grandest and remained for three hours and twenty minutes. Neither Roche spoke to anyone else for any prolonged period of time while they were there. After that, they drove back home."

Twilight nodded, "And the tails…?"

She stepped forward and held out a manila folder to him, "Investigations managed to build profiles on them."

Twilight took the folder and opened it, finding two faces staring back at him. Blond, with short-cropped hair, as Nightfall had told him before. The one without the jagged scar through his brow looked incredibly similar to the waiter that served him and Mr. Roche at Venge.

"Stefan Schwarz and Karl Weiland," Nightfall introduced, "They grew up together in Strausberdt. Schwarz turned to crime eight years ago after his family was left destitute during the war, served two years in prison for aggravated burglary, re-emerged, and promptly disappeared into the Ostanian criminal underworld. We assume he gained his connections while in prison since criminal organizations don't usually recruit petty burglars off the street. Organization, unknown. Karl Weiland came to Berlint five years ago with his younger brother, Dieter, and supported both of them with a job in sales. Schwarz seems to have approached him two years ago."

"It's no coincidence that surveillance of Mr. Roche and his family resumed after I met with him," Twilight said, tapping his finger on Karl Weiland's photo thoughtfully, "Dieter Weiland was our waiter that night. If they heard us talking about Anya…Hmmm, how did Mr. Roche's tails act this weekend?"

"Continued to watch the family. Same two men. Schwarz followed Mr. Roche each time he left the house while Weiland remained stationary. He attempted to approach Mr. Roche and his son both at the playground, and on their way home, but I intervened – first, by approaching Mr. Roche for inane conversation while watching his son, then by bumping into Schwarz and spilling coffee on him. I was in disguise, of course. Both distractions worked. He also followed Mr. and Mrs. Roche on their date but did not approach them. I slipped a tracker on Weiland, as he remained at the house, to make sure he did not try to approach their son, but he did not move."

So, then who were the people following him? Were they part of the same organization? Were they following him for the same reason as Mr. Roche, or for something else entirely?

Twilight took a breath, "I have two tails of my own. A rotation of men and one woman."

Nightfall's eyes immediately narrowed, "Since when?"

"Sunday."

"And you didn't report in?"

Twilight raised an eyebrow, "I'm doing so now. It would have been dangerous to try and contact WISE without knowing their capabilities and limits, lest I reveal WISE's presence in Ostania to said malicious actors. I have determined that the hospital is clean, so I'm briefing you on the situation now."

Nightfall nodded curtly, "How did they find you? What holes do we need to close?"

"They know my face, probably courtesy of Dieter Weiland, but do not know the location of the Forger residence. I have seen them outside the fake address, so they likely know the name 'Forger'. But they do not recognize my vehicle, so they didn't use the license plate to trace it. In your observations, did Mr. Roche mention my name where his tails could hear?"

"Not in public. And if he mentioned you inside the household where they would hear it, then I would have heard it as well."

"Unless they re-activated any equipment that they used to monitor quieter conversations the home from last year…"

"That is a possibility." She paused to think, "Should we assume that they have access to his place of work? If you have determined that the hospital is clean, then maybe they accessed phone records on his end and noted that he received a call from this office."

Now that was a good hypothesis.

"I assume evading them while maintaining cover is no issue for you," Nightfall said, "But should we take precautions to ensure Anya Forger and Yor Briar's safety? They already seem to be looking for the girl and if they find her…"

Twilight's mind flitted through all the times the girl could be alone; on the way to the school bus in the morning, and any time between getting off the bus and reaching their front door in the evening, were probably the times she was most vulnerable. She would be safe if he continued to drive her to and from school, and if she was out with Becky Blackbell then he could rely on the military awareness of the Blackbell bodyguard. He and Yor were always there to accompany her when taking Bond for a walk, so there was security in numbers there too. Yor's schedule was more nebulous to him, but he was sure that she had the strength to deal with anyone who approached her suspiciously or attacked her. And he wasn't lying in the slightest when he said that he trusted her with Anya's safety, both emotional and physical.

Despite all that, he still felt the irritating displeasure at the back of his mind at the thought of letting the both of them carry on without the slightest amount of extra protection. At least, this time, his feelings of attachment were urging him to be sensible.

He gave his permission to Nightfall and was certain that Anya and Yor would each be assigned to a junior agent by the end of the day.

Anya hadn't come to him yet about when she would reveal herself to Yor, and he didn't know what she was waiting for. Maybe, in spite of her excitement before, she still needed to build her courage to reveal such a big secret. Maybe she had noticed that it wasn't the right time; Yor had come home from work on Monday in a strange mood and, despite his best efforts to show support without pushing, it had not lifted and she remained slightly standoffish. Maybe she was backing out of telling Yor and just hadn't told him yet. Either way, he would keep his promise and wait for her, so she didn't have to do anything alone.

"Anything else I need to pass on to Handler?"

Twilight braced himself before saying, "Tell her I need to speak to her as soon as possible. Here."

Nightfall nodded, spun on her heel, and headed out of the room. Twilight's chest tightened with every step.

Because Anya would probably hate him for the decision he had just made.

He had promised her that he wouldn't tell anyone about her powers, but Operation STRIX was now in more danger than ever before. Nightfall had said that Stefan Schwarz had attempted to approach Mr. Roche twice after only a few days of more distant surveillance. That kind of escalation was dangerous and indicated intent beyond surface level information gathering. Twilight figured it was only a matter of time before his own tails attempted to escalate things too, especially if they were getting frustrated with his ability to constantly lose them. That, coupled with what Anya had told him that weekend – the revelation that there may be more people out there just like her, with the ability to hinder WISE operations if they had fallen to the wrong side…

'And then there was the fire…'

Some promises were meant to be broken.

I was debating with myself on starting the chapter with "All work and no play makes Loid a dull boy." That was projection. I'm the dull one. April and June kicked my ass.

Did you know, in the language of flowers, blue periwinkles represent the desire for strong, long-lasting relationships (platonic or romantic)? I chose the flower because it blooms in the springtime, when this fic takes place, and because I like them. But looking up the meaning just solidifies in my mind that its perfect to represent any member of the Forgers.

Strausberdt is the parody name for Strausberg, Germany - a town east of Berlin.