12Disclaimer: I do not own the Spy x Family series or its characters.
Every once in a while, Damian would get another idea in his head about how to get his father to notice him.
As always, Anya was the number one supporter in all his endeavors, so that she could be there when Donovan Desmond might potentially show up, be blown away by his second son's efforts, and be ready to negotiate world peace with her father. Obviously, that was the one and only reason.
So when Damian decided to take up a sport, specifically tennis, Anya was in the very first row in the bleachers to cheer him on. It was only because the front row was where Donovan would potentially sit, so Anya had to be there too.
Turned out Damian wasn't that great at sports anyway because every time he seemed close to winning a score, Anya would yell out encouragements and instead of focusing on the bouncy, bright ball, Damian would choose to seek out her voice, mind going blank.
Suffice it to say, Damian's teammate was not the least bit pleased with Damian's playing strategy.
"I liked the part when you kept hitting the ball on the net, Sy-on boy!" Anya yelled loudly at the end of the match, waving her arms and running towards him on the tennis court like a mad woman.
"Don't make fun of me, Stubby Legs!" Damian yelled back, running away from her.
Since athletics was a bust, Damian decided to pursue the art of drama. Playing Romeo in the class play surely should have sent his father running into the auditorium ready to sing praises to his youngest son.
But that idea failed as well.
Anya tried to find him at the end of the production, a bouquet of flowers clutched in her hand, so that she would have an excuse to talk to Damian (and potentially his father). But by the time she reached backstage, she was disappointed to be met with the faces of Emile and Ewen who informed her that Damian had left immediately after the show and that he had wanted to leave as soon as the play began because he hadn't seen his father in the crowd.
Anya ended up giving the flowers to Becky, who had played Juliet, but she couldn't help imagine a scenario where she had presented her colorful floral arrangement to the boy it was intended for. She pictured how his face would light up into that classic firetruck red and how he would stammer profusely while his mind went completely blank.
She smirked at that thought and strangely, Donovan Desmond was featured nowhere in that fantasy.
When drama failed, Damian turned to sculpting, and though his stone carving of his house crest, a griffin, won many art competitions, it had not won his father's attention.
"I still think you should have added jet engines to it, Sy-on boy."
"You're so weird."
Sculpting turned to photography. Photography turned to debate. Debate turned to music. And on and on and on.
All the while, Damian had been maintaining a perfect academic record and some of the highest marks in the class. And Anya… Well, Anya was still front row for it all.
It had gotten to a point where Damian, and everyone around him, classmates and teachers alike, were all used to the idea of Anya just being there for every one of Damian's achievements. Nobody was expecting Donovan to show up, but everyone knew Anya would be there.
But Anya and Damian never really gave up hope of the idea of Donovan showing up out of the blue. Maybe he would one day bring a bouquet of different colored flowers, just like Anya did. Or maybe he'd bring a 'Sorry for Missing Every Important Event in Your Life' card that Damian would read and weep (and then Anya would swoop in and convince Mr. Desmond to stop the war plans).
So despite the world having written off the idea of Donovan actually caring enough about his son to show up even once, Anya continued to show up anyway. To Damian's every special occasion.
And Damian noticed.
Sometimes Anya would have her own special moment. A little extracurricular her papa would sign her up for in hopes of it leading to a potential Stella Star or a talent that she wanted to pursue because she saw it featured on Spy Wars and thought it may be important for her future as a top secret spy.
She tried to take up singing (even though the voices of everyone around her distracted her profusely) and singing turned to competing at the Spelling Bee (even though she didn't even know what this grammar thing everyone was harping on about was) and spelling turned to dancing (even though she only knew how to point and do cool spy moves that didn't count as dancing—but it totally should). And on and on and on.
Surprisingly, event after event, Anya began to notice an extra body in the audience. A begrudging figure next to Becky, arms crossed, trying to hide himself in the large chair despite the fact that he had chosen to sit front row.
Damian Desmond sat front row at her special event.
Pushing one event off as a coincidence, Anya didn't assume he was there for her. But one event turned into two, three, and soon, there was nothing going on in Anya's life that Damian didn't have a front row seat to.
Anya tried to understand why Damian would take time out of his busy day to see her (mostly) fail. Yet there he was.
One time, after her singing recital, Anya was immediately surrounded by her mama and papa who hugged her and congratulated her on her performance. Anya was pretty sure she saw three-quarters of the audience, her mama and papa included, having to clasp their hands over their ears during her solo part, but she appreciated the gesture all the same.
Once her parents released her from the hug, Anya was met face to face with her very own Sy-on boy, hands behind his back and face blushing profusely already, despite not having said a word out loud yet.
Anya quirked a questioning brow upwards and immediately, she was met with a bouquet of light pink roses and bright green leaves being held right up to her face.
The stems, all bunched up together in fancy paper, were thrust into her hand and Anya was able to lower it to meet the face of the gift giver.
"You… you sang good," Damian muttered, scuffing his shoe against the marble floor, not being able to meet her gaze.
Damian was one of the few members in the audience who had actually sat normally during Anya's solo and not clasped their hands over their ears, the others being elderly folks who had chosen to turn off their hearing aids at the first sound that came out of Anya's mouth.
He spoke honestly, and Anya read his mind, so she knew he wasn't lying when he thought she sang well.
But why was Sy-on boy here anyway?
Anya scrutinized him thoroughly and she could hear Loid doing his own analysis in the back of his mind.
What is this Desmond boy's intentions with my daughter? Loid wondered protectively.
Anya started forming connections of her own.
The only reason she went to all of Damian's events was to meet Damian's father and achieve world peace because Damian's father was evil!
So… so if Damian came to all of her events, that must mean he wanted to meet Anya's father and achieve world… the opposite of peace!
"Papa doesn't want you in our house," Anya blurted out.
"Huh?!" Damian and Loid shouted at once.
A few heads turned in their direction, but Anya ignored that. She had to be strict with her intentions. Anya wanted to go to Damian's house because that meant world peace. It couldn't happen the other way or there could be trouble!
Loid's mind was racing a mile a minute, Anya was barely able to keep up.
Did I make a face at the boy? How did she know that? She's too young to have a boyfriend— she's just too young to be associating with… but how did she know? I should work on controlling my expressions. I may be slipping. Twilight, get yourself together.
Papa had an excellent poker face, but Anya wasn't about to give away her secret any time soon.
Damian, on the other hand, had a terrible face. Oh, she meant poker face.
What does she mean pops doesn't want me in their house? Did I imply I wanted to go there? Does she know that I— She can't! I should clarify that I don't want to… but I do. But I should first ask her father for her hand— But Anya just told me he doesn't approve! And it's too soon! I haven't even— We haven't even— This is a disaster!
Anya giggled at Damian's wild, confusing panic. "Maybe we could come to your house, Sy-on boy!"
"Huh?" Damian exclaimed. "No way, Stubby Legs! You're so weird! Why did I even come here?"
Anya continued to hear him mumbling even as he pushed through the crowd of parents still searching for their kids in the choir.
Yor tilted her head to the side and commented lightly, "What a strange little friend you have, Anya. It was nice of him to bring you flowers."
I wonder if that little boy is Anya's boyfriend. How wonderfully sweet! Young love, Yor mused. Maybe we'll be seeing more of this boy since he and Anya are boyfriend and girlfriend.
I can see Damian more if we're boyfriend and girlfriend? Anya stared wide-eyed at her mother, her jaw dropping in shock. That would be perfect! More time together means we can go to his house! We can get world peace, Papa!
"Hmm, yes, it was… nice of him to bring flowers, I suppose," Loid said, and though his voice may have sounded normal to outside ears, Anya could hear the suspicion in the undertone.
That strange Desmond boy better not break my daughter's heart.
Sy-on boy was a strange boy in Anya's eyes. Sometimes, his thoughts didn't match his actions and his emotions tended to be all over the place. Angry and wild in one moment and shy and bashful in the next.
She could never tell when he was about to bully her into the ground with his snarky comments or raise her up with unintentional compliments and high praises.
He was completely unpredictable.
Except when it came to Anya's special events.
Because then, he was always in a front row seat.
Time had passed, with days turning to weeks and weeks to months and months to seasons, and Operation Strix was still in the works. As in working slow (very slow) and steady. Anya had accumulated a good amount of Stella Stars, with barely any help from her father, but it was to the surprise of no one that Damian was the first in her class to earn all eight Stella Stars, officially earning him the title of Imperial Scholar.
Rumors spread through the entire school that maybe, just maybe, Donovan Desmond would show up for once.
After all, his son earning his Imperial Scholar title was a very big occasion, even if the elder son had already earned his.
The ceremony was about to start in less than a half hour and Anya could hear the mind of Damian whirring profusely with worry after worry.
She fidgeted in her seat (front row, of course) for a few minutes, but she couldn't take the overwhelming anxieties in Damian's head any longer.
Donning her hypothetical spy glasses, Anya prepared to sneak backstage, quiet and sly as a mouse, but she was immediately spotted by one of her teachers who smiled kindly and ushered her backstage where she was told Damian was waiting for her.
Huh, Anya thought to herself. She assumed she would have to be more spy-y, but maybe security wasn't so great here.
She spotted Damian peering through the thick red curtains of the stage, squinting to study the faces of the people in the auditorium. Anya appeared next to him, squinting as well. She could see her classmates, chatting happily amongst themselves, and even her own father and mother, who had come to "be supportive of one of Anya's friends."
Sure, Papa, that's why.
Usually when Damian's eyes met Anya's, his whole brain would stop working for a second. Like a warm blanket would envelop him, and subsequently her, making it seem like the whole world was suspended for just a moment, leaving the two of them on their own. Just each other.
But that was not the case this time. For Donovan Desmond stood between them.
Damian held her gaze. No firetruck red blush and no stammer.
"He's not coming, Anya."
No question, no hesitation. Just a statement. Just a fact.
"Sy-on boy," Anya murmured, she stood close to him, fitting just under his chin.
While they had both grown taller over the time that they had known each other, Damian still continued to hold his height over her.
She whispered his nickname so quietly that he had only heard her because of the close proximity.
Close. Close. Close.
Damian considered how strange it was that he felt closer to strange little Anya than he ever felt with his own flesh and blood father.
Anya agreed.
"Maybe he's running late," Anya theorized; her voice was still quiet over the sound of the audience on the other side of the curtain. "He'll come soon."
Yeah, right, Damian thought.
"You think?" He asked out loud.
"I—" Anya paused before she could answer. She could never lie to her Sy-on boy. At least lie and get away with it because he always seemed to see right through her.
She noticed that his tie was askew, leaning just a bit towards the left, and so she focused her gaze on the tie. She grabbed it and tugged lightly, pulling him towards her. He stumbled on the half step forward and Anya was pleased to find Damian's famous blush making an appearance.
"I think your father may come, Damian," she paltered as she focused on correcting his tie. She had seen her father adjust his own tie many times in her life that she figured she knew how to tighten the silk rope around her classmate's neck.
She's always such a terrible liar, Damian mused, his thoughts having a tinge of fondness in it.
Anya pulled a little too hard and Damian choked as the tie strangled him a little bit.
"Oh!" Anya exclaimed, surprised by her own strength. She guessed Mama's training regimen finally paid off. "I—"
"I'm okay, Anya." Damian smiled softly as he wrapped his hands around her own that were still locked on his tie. He brought her arms down and then went back up to adjust the tie on his own. "I swear I'm fine. You didn't have to come see me like you always do at events like these."
You don't have to dote on me like… like a butler does, Damian thought to himself, a shred of self-pity and bitterness filled his heart, like a parent should, like a—
"Like a friend!" Anya interrupted his thoughts, startling Damian out of his head. "Or- or- or like… a girlfriend!"
What?!
Anya didn't know if that was Damian's thought or her own.
"What?!" Damian exclaimed out loud.
Is she being serious? Should I tell her that I— No! What if she's joking? But she doesn't look like she's joking… But what if it's an elaborate scheme and she— But I… I want… And she… And I— I can't! But what if—
"I want to dote on you, Sy-on boy," Anya then clarified, pulling Damian out of his thoughts. "Like a girlfriend."
She went to all his events. She'd been there for all his accomplishments. Plus, Mama said that boyfriends and girlfriends spent more time together. So, in his words, she doted on him.
She wasn't like a butler. She certainly wasn't a parent. She wasn't really his friend, not like Emile and Ewen were. So the only way she could dote and continue to dote on him, so that she would be able to be there for him at all his events (just in case his father showed up), was if she took up the role of girlfriend, which Anya knew for a fact was an empty role in Damian Desmond's life just waiting to be filled.
She had heard enough about Berlint in Love from Becky to know that it was the girlfriend's job to always be there for the boyfriend. To tie his tie when it was messed up and give motivational speeches when their significant other was at their worst.
Anya could do that.
If Papa could be the nicest, greatest, bestest fake father and husband there ever was, then Anya would be the nicest, greatest, bestest real girlfriend ever. All for the mission, of course.
She… Damian stared at her in awe. She's serious.
"Okay," Damian agreed. He had a hesitant tone, like he still couldn't believe what was happening, but he still agreed and that was a win in Anya's book.
"Okay," Anya responded back. She didn't know what to do next. What was a girlfriend supposed to do?
At that moment, Anya wished she had taken Becky up on her offer to watch her collection of all 437 volumes of Berlint in Love. Maybe somewhere in there was Anya's key to being the perfect girlfriend.
"Um," Damian started, but just then, grand music filled the auditorium, signaling the start of the Imperial Scholar ceremony.
Both Anya and Damian jolted at the loud noise, only then realizing how close they stood to each other.
"I… have to go," Damian said, eyes as big and round as the moon. "Will you wait for me after?"
Anya smiled brightly at him. "I'll be right here, Sy-on boy!"
That was definitely the right thing to say because Damian's face lit up like he was plugged into a powerful electrical socket.
Yes, Anya, I suppose you always have been.
Damian walked out onto the stage when his name was called, a thousand watt smile plastered on his face and a strut that had an extra special kind of swagger the world had never seen on the likes of Damian Desmond.
He was a whole new man.
And Anya watched him rise from a front row seat.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed reading this fic!
I started it off with a different idea and intention—more angst and sad/depressed Damian—but then the story evolved into this fluffy little piece about halfway through and it ended up like this! I still have plans to write the more angsty DamiAnya fic if you are interested, but it won't have anything to do with this one shot. It will most likely be called "you there (you're better off here)" cause that was the original title for this fic lol
Anyway, please leave a review for this fic if you enjoyed it cause it would make my day and reviews give me encouragement to keep writing!