Chapter Text
Bond sat impatiently on the kitchen floor, tail wagging. He'd seen this afternoon's meal this morning, and it only made him anticipate it more.
"Hey, boy. Looking forward to dinner?"
"Borf!" Bond let his tongue loll and his eyes brighten. Yes!! Dinner dinner dinner.
Friend's eyes softened. "Sometimes I think you almost understand me." His hand ruffled Bond's fur over his head.
"Borf!" An affirmation.
(Friend had so many names--Papa, Loid, Twilight--that Bond wasn't sure which was actually correct, so Friend would have to do when nobody else was around, but otherwise, it was whatever he'd last been called.)
Friend stood up, and the oven opened, and the scent of well-seasoned meat filled the air.
Soon soon soon! Roast bird!
Friend let out a small huff, that Bond knew by now was a hidden smile, as he looked down at the dog. "You can't have this one; there's garlic, and the bones aren't safe. I roasted a special piece for you, Bond. Just a minute."
Bond set his nose on the counter next to the leg Friend was carving. He knew what to wait for. Best meal.
(Every meal was the best meal, these days. So much better than the lab.)
"Yeah, I bet you do like home-cooked meals, huh? I can't imagine what your life was like before this." Friend stopped speaking for a moment, chewing his lip, and set the knife aside, to begin shredding the meat with his fingers. "It sure is nice to have a small thing to look forward to each day, isn't it?"
Food! Food! Bond was drooling now, his tail whipping to either side with abandon. The plate settled on the floor, with a clunk, and it smelled delicious. He immediately shoved his nose into the center, flinging his meal in excitement.
Friend's feet lingered a little longer today. His voice was soft, but Bond had excellent hearing.
"I shouldn't look forward to-- when I have to--"
SLAM!
"Papa, why are you talking to Bond?" A pink whirlwind blasted open the door, and Papa startled.
"Heh, Anya, he's just eating too fast... Bond, make sure you clean that up!"
Papa's voice was not that convincing, and Papa was very capable of making his voice convincing. But the food on the floor was still food. Bond made sure to eat at least one of the pieces that had fallen to the floor.
"Oh, Loid, it just means he's excited. He usually eats it all. I don't think you have to scold him."
Yor was right, as always.
"...I.. I suppose so." Another light huff. "It looks like he's enjoying it."
"You take such good care of him."
A slight shift in the atmosphere, as Yor's feet moved to stand by Loid, in the periphery.
"He's had a rough life before this. It's the least I can do to make sure he feels secure."
Images of the lab flashed through Bond's mind, but rapidly dissipated. Yes, this space was safe.
"Borf!" Home.
His food fully inhaled, Bond lifted his head hurriedly to Loid's hand, pressing his wet nose to the palm that would spread and smooth the fur from his face. A second hand joined, a centimeter away, and a small body, with two small hands clinging to his ruff, smothered his back. All so close to each other, yet so far away. They all had their secrets, he knew.
Family. He nuzzled himself closer into the hands on his face.
*krakl.* An image of someday floated in his head.
"Papa, Bond thinks you and Mama will kiss!"
"No we won't!" --The spell broken, the two adults yanked themselves away as Anya clung tighter to his fur. She was in a strange mood, silliness turned thoughtful.
Play?
"No, Bond, this is serious! Come on, Director Chimera has a new mishun for us!"
She pattered to her room, and he dutifully followed.
"Hee hee, you can tell how he loves Anya! He's always following her!"
Another huff.
Anya's door clicked shut.
There were crayon diagrams spread on Anya's floor, depicting .... Bond squinted. Anya had spent the last ten minutes describing them in detail, but it was still hazy. He did, indeed, have a new mission.
Anya sat down amidst her drawings, her voice quiet. "So, as you have seen, Agent Papa is com-plo-wised. After he and Mama went to that TV show and Mama was flirty with a stranger... He can't think about his feelings! When he does, his heart goes boom boom boom and he almost passes out. He's thinking about running away again! It's super important that he does not escape, or else--" she sniffed -- "the entire oper-ay-shun will be termin-uh -- ended!"
A tear threatened to ploop from her eye.
"And it's all because-- because--"
Bond sat down next to her, head in her lap. Human emotions sounded exhausting.
Anya's tears soaked into his fur for a minute before she sat back up again. "So, Agent Bond, you have a top secret mishun. You have to keep an eye on Agent Papa. And you have to help him put his hand on his heart and think about his feelings! For the Folgers are in danger!"
Family... danger?
He understood the importance of his task, and would take up his mission with the utmost sincerity.
Friend had been heading out more often lately, in the in-between times before the rest of the family got home. Steps would be audible from downstairs, then a minute later the keys would jingle in the door, then Friend would swish into athleticwear and exit as swiftly as he'd entered. This was suspicious.
In response, Bond had developed a routine. The first time this occurred after his new mission assignment, Bond had leapt into action mid-change, snagging his leash in his jaw and standing by the door, blocking it. Agent Papa -- a.k.a. Friend -- would not be leaving alone this time.
And the first time, Friend had cajoled him, begged him to let him go alone, with "I don't want to leave you in the dust," and "You'll probably be bored," and "are you sure you want to join?"
But now, Friend would ask, "Ready for another run, boy?" first thing as he slipped into his room.
"Borf!" Bond knew not to bother him too much as he changed, but as soon as he left his room the rules adapted, and Bond would bound his face slobbering into the waiting palm.
Outside!
"All right, all right. Yeah, you're excited. I really should have thought of doing this sooner. Let's get going." And so they would.
Air! Birds!
Freedom, joy, and recklessness. Friend would keep him close enough that there was no need to think, only run!
Typically, halfway through, they'd pause at a plaza or bench or a park. Today was a park, by the big spire! Parks were the best! He could play! He pulled at his leash, towards the other dogs.
More friends!
"Easy, there. You'll get to play in a second." A small chuckle as Friend navigated past the dog park gate and clicked it shut.
Play! Bond licked at Friend's face as he bent down, to the satisfaction of a deeper chuckle. This was important, for the mission. The more Friend's guard went down, the more he would talk. Would he talk today? Only time would tell.
Friend glanced up at the tower above them. "Wonder what it's like," he muttered. Bond jumped up a bit more, putting enthusiasm into the bounce. Play! Play! Friends! Play! Hands ruffled his face and riled him up.
"All right now, boy. Go! Go play!" The hand pointed, the mission was forgotten temporarily, and Bond rocketed towards the frolicking group of dogs as Friend stood, listing to one side, watching the dogs, glancing at the tower.
Fifteen minutes later, panting, his fur tangled, Bond heard a whistle. It would be time to go home soon!
Friend! Back he trotted.
"All right, let's get you cleaned up a little," Friend muttered. Times like this were when critical mission intel would drop.
"I bet you like being friends with other dogs, huh?" A brush smoothed over his head and Bond panted happily. "It's a good thing to have friends."
Today, Friend sighed, looking again at the spire above them. "It must be nice being a dog, to not have to pretend all the time. It can get kinda tiring, can't it boy?"
Bond proffered a face lick of agreement, and received a huff in response. "Yeah, you get it. At least someone sees me."
The brushing continued in silence for a minute, until a tangle got snagged and Bond whined. "Oops, sorry boy. Just about... done!"
The leash reclipped, Friend moved towards the gate. "Let's go home, before Yor worries too much."
*krakl*
Papa doubles over in laughter on the couch at the face-slobbering antics of the evening, temporarily unmasked. Anya looks upon Bond with pride; Yor looks upon Loid with adoration. Loid looks up, into Yor's eyes, and his throat bobs visibly. "Phase one: Success," Anya whispers.
Three days later.
"What is forever, to a dog?" Friend asked, as they looked over the city from a high point. "What unknowns do you worry about?"
A head tilt was for listening, and also confusion.
A sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't expect you to understand. I doubt you've ever worried about promising something that isn't yours to give."
No, he hadn't. But nuzzling Friend's hand never failed to give a small smile. Today was no exception.
"What are you saying, boy?"
"Borf." A consolation, as the large hand patted his head, ran his ear through its fingers.
"Maybe you're right." Friend looked further out over the throngs of people below, then back at the dog, sitting at his side. "I guess I don't know what it would look like to... stay."
The word carried weight.
"Or why the idea is so... "
Stay.
Bond knew that word. He could demonstrate that word. He sat up straight, determined.
Another sigh, hands patting the guardrail with a low reverberation of metal. "... I don't know why I tell you these things. Well, we should go back."
Stay. Bond sat in place as Friend got up to leave. Five steps, and the leash was taut. Friend let out a huff of amusement.
"Bond, did you think I told you to stay? Hah, come on. What I'd really like is --"
He paused, and looked back over the vista before turning back around.
"Heel, boy."
"Fetch!" Sploosh sploosh sploosh. The riverbank was warmer at this time of year.
Stick! Bond grabbed the large, floating wood and brought it back, sopping.
"Oof, you're soaked!" Friend chuckled, then sighed. "When you want something, you really go for it, don't you?"
"Borf!"
Friend threw the stick again.
Stick! Yes! Sploosh sploosh!
But as Bond returned ..
*Krakl*
..a disappointing vision flashed before him.
Would it be worth returning the stick?
"Hand it here, so I can throw it again."
Reluctantly, Bond placed the stick in Friend's hand, but kept his mouth closed.
Don't wanna.
"What's the matter boy?"
Bond let his worried eyes do the speaking.
"I don't think I understand. Did you stop wanting to chase?"
Bond hesitated again, then dropped the stick.
"All right. Fetch!"
Driven, Bond still chased it, yet-- as he foresaw, it sank this time, in a deep spot he couldn't retrieve, before bobbing up too far away. He paced back and forth before returning without it.
Friend placed his hand on Bond's head before sitting down unceremoniously on the grass, leaning back against his elbows to stare at the vast, empty sky.
"...That is what I'm worried about, too. Finally deciding to chase something only for it to disappear, because it was never mine to want."
This wouldn't do. It was Bond's mission to correct this line of thought. Bond growled at Friend, very lightly, before turning around in a harrumph.
"Wait---what are you saying? Don't tell me you understood..." Friend's voice got quieter as Bond dashed away.
He snagged another stick from the ground before loping back.
"Heh, I see, you wanted to continue. I suppose I should have known." Friend hefted the stick in his hand with a huff as he stood again, slowly. "I do worry too much... Guess you love the chase as much as the stick. Hup!"
The stick flew again, and another round of splashes and sogging later, Bond returned to Friend's side.
"...even possible?" Friend was muttering, before "wait-- wait Bond, wait, let me-- "
A small wave of muddy water blasted across Friend's side.
"...well, guess we're headed back now. But you're taking the bath with me."
*krakl*
Anya is in bed. Loid and Yor take their tea together, sitting on the couch as always. He brushes a strand of hair from her eyes. She reddens, then smiles. Relief paints Friend's face.
(The next day, Anya declared that phase 2 objectives had been met.)
Tonight was mission critical.
"...Agent Bond. If that's happening tonight, you have to go along." Agent Anya had insisted.
And so Bond was glad he had made a habit of sleeping by the door lately. He was not letting Friend leave the house alone, not at this hour of the night.
"....I suppose I could use your nose. Only if you insist. Be ready to cover it, I guess." Friend whispered, as he pulled a dark jacket over Bond's white fur, slipping paw covers on. (...prepared for everything, as always.)
Bond needed to make sure this late night run didn't end in the disaster that it could.
The jog was followed by a short wait at a building as Friend entered and exited. A bomb went off on the other side. Friend returned, in a different face. Bond knew him by smell. Friend knew Bond knew him by smell, and made no efforts to convince him otherwise.
"I expect we'll find more of them guarding the escape down below, but it will be quieter than an aboveground get away. I will benefit from your attention." The manhole cover opened.
More smells! A person would find the wave of odor rank, but Bond was delighted. No, no, he had to stay focused.
They slipped through silently. Somehow, Bond wondered, Friend assumed he understood in these scenarios, in contrast to--
"Last time I was in the sewers.. "
Friend leaned against the wall, whispering, almost invisible, the only light the glint of the moon through the grate, and reflected off his pupil, slipping back into his confessional. Mice or rats scurrying, and rivulets of water provided just enough of a background din that complete silence was not necessary.
"...I almost got myself killed. It was my mistake. But also... not a mistake."
Bond did not know how to respond. A "Borf" would be too loud. Perhaps a Huff, though this would not match Friend's use of the phrase. A small whine, soft, was what he settled on.
"And.. the more I think about that choice. The more I... feel for them."
"Huff."
A splash, down a branch of the sewer, and a second one.
Bond alerted towards the correct location. Soon he would be needed.
Friend was loading his gun, slipping further into darkness, obscured now by both his false face and the shadows. "Thanks. They'll never forgive me if I disappear. That much is clear. But for them..."
Yells reverberated through the tunnels, their locations unclear. Footsteps, tens of them, pounded down one of the hallways.
"...for them I'd risk everything, I have risked everything, and.. it's terrifying...."
Soft thuds--shouts cut short.
"...because it means I have to be that much more perfect." He steadied his aim and his breathing.
Two men erupted from a faraway tunnel, only visible as the glint of daggers pierced their head, only audible as their bodies hit the ground, and darkness grew closer. No, a shadow grew closer. Someone's shadow.
Friend's pupils dilated in the split second he had as the spectre plunged towards him, and the smell of fear intensified.
"Shit. Go. If I don't-- please." Friend's voice trembled as he waited for the approacher to enter his sights. "Tell them I love them."
But Bond had no intention of following Friend's orders, and not only because he could not speak. He knew what he had to do.
Breaking every safety protocol, in a burst of unpredictable motion, he clawed at Friend's face until he felt a tear, and with his jaws he wrenched Friend's shoulder into the beam of moonlight under the grate, unmasked.
Friend's eyes widened, and he did not speak,
-- slumped and disheveled on the ground, face bloodied -- only gasped at the sudden betrayal. Even though he knew, knew why this was essential, Bond felt compelled to apologize, nosing the wounded shoulder in contrition.
Sorry.
As foreseen, the descending apparition halted, solidified, stepping into the light, reaching her hand out gently towards Friend's face.
"Loid?"
"...Yor?"
As she bundled him in her arms, Loid turned his head to glance weakly at Bond. "...good boy."
Friend was taking so much time at the park bench today. Bond was raring to return, but ... He was still sitting, and it had been too long.
"Borf?" An inquiry, as he paced back again and finally set his head on Friend's lap.
"Hmm." A hand idly rested itself on his head, then smoothed the silk of his ear a couple times. "Actually, Bond, would you mind?" He patted the bench next to him. "Lay here, but... keep your head..."
It was not too much to comply, and was likely the right choice, for the mission. It was rare that Friend wanted cuddles. This may have not been cuddles, really, so much as .. pondering in proximity, but it was similar enough, and should lead to progress. Once Bond placed himself in position, the hand returned to his face, slow and gentle beyond its usual care.
Friend hummed an unfamiliar tune for a few minutes before he spoke again.
"I haven't known what it is to feel safe since I was a child, and nothing about what I've learned should ..." He paused.
Bond closed his eyes to listen.
".... but somehow, I'm... I.. this. Everything."
A fist grasped the fur of his scruff, gently.
"She carried me home. She.. " he breathed more deeply, "scolded me for putting myself in danger, again. And she ..." The fist clenched further into his fur. "...said that whatever I was, she was probably worse, and I... fell asleep in her arms, and I was okay with it."
He was shivering, somewhat. "And as much as I try to make myself think about it intellectually, I am still okay with it, completely without reason. I have never ... trusted anyone like that. It's dangerous."
Bond opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow upward as he made eye contact with Friend from his lap.
"...no, you're right. I trusted you.. if I didn't, I would have stopped you last night. And.. I was right to trust you."
The clenched fist relaxed and returned to gliding gently over Bond's coat, occasionally skipping to pats.
"I'll have to trust my instincts a bit more, perhaps."
They got up shortly thereafter.
This run was an especially long one. Friend had been working late all week, sitting alone in his room every evening. He must have been very busy. He must have been very lonely.
Not a worry now, only run!
Run!
Eventually, they paused to meander in an industrial alleyway. The gray of the buildings and the rubble probably sat from before Bond existed. Maybe a great fight had happened here. There were old bullet casings on the ground, and scrapes in the walls. Friend sat on the rickety metal staircase and leaned back, looking up, catching his breath as he unhooked the leash.
*krakl.*
Something sparkled beneath a crumbled cinderblock.
Where was that brick? His nose wouldn't help here; he'd have to get close. Bond moved towards a brick, overturning it with his nose. Not this one.
"... I suppose you can dig around, just be careful. Don't get into anything dangerous. Let me know if you see anything, ok boy?"
"Borf." An acknowledgement. He returned to his search quest. No stone would be left unturned!
And eventually, after several minutes, and several "Bond, not too far!"-- success! It was that brick, the square ish one with the crumbled corner, that one, that one!
Shiny! Yes yes, Friend would like this.
"Borf! Borf Borf!" Bond gave his best point, even though his physiology didn't really support the pose.
"What is it, boy? Is it something hazardous?"
Friend moved up cautiously behind him, then his breath caught.
"Ah--" Friend's voice was in a low register, less bright than he usually spoke to Bond. "I thought this would have been taken by now. But it must have been buried." He reached an arm out from the periphery to the sparkling metallic treasure below.
Standing, be turned it over in his hand, dusting it until the light refracted into Bond's eyes.
"Heh. It's been through quite a bit, but still shines. It's funny, how much these mean to civilians."
Bond looked up at his face.
"Something about the stone representing permanence, the rarity and expense proving an extravagant show of sacrifice. But this cost nothing, so would it--"
This was complicated philosophy. A head tilt would show his confusion. But Friend wasn't looking at Bond, rather the dusty ring in his hand.
"...could this one still mean those things? Buried in rubble, lost and hidden at the start of all this... yes, I think this way, it means... that much more. Though, I wonder what she'd think, if I gave this to her now..." His eyes softened. "Would she..."
*krakl.*
Friend, in a suit, one knee on his living room floor, with Yor and Anya standing in front of him. His eyes upturned towards their faces, as he, trembling, speaks. Yor's hand draped gently in his, a glowing smile spreading to the others, a warm light beginning to envelop them all. He stands into the someday kiss.
Bond shook his head. He needed to share this sight to complete his mission. Bond sat, in his best impression of a kneel, and set his paw over his chest, pausing before placing the paw into Friend's palm, looking upward beseechingly.
Huff. The wistful smile smile grew into a hopeful one on Friend's face, and he mimicked the gesture, placing the fist with the ring over his chest, inhaling and exhaling, once, slowly.
"You tend to know when things will turn out well. Perhaps... I just might."