He's an overworked super-spy... who happens to be extremely ticklish. She's a covert assassin... who happens to harbor a secret desire to tickle her husband senseless. So it's safe to say that when Loid Forger makes the mistake of taking a nap with his bare feet exposed in his wife's vicinity, hilarity is bound to ensue. This secret agent will meet his maker!
This story is dedicated to two talented tickle writers who are good friends of mine, Indigo-Bunny and SergeantD, both of whom have become obsessed with Loid - I researched a number of older stories from both of them to try and replicate their respective writing styles as closely as I could, although I'm not sure how well I succeeded. I guess in the end it'd have been better to stick to my own way of writing, but I couldn't help myself here due to how similar this story's events are to most of the stories I researched, almost like it was cobbled together from various elements taken from them. Hopefully Indigo and Sergeant are okay with this, and I hope they and Araghen enjoy this story as much as I did making it!
11/25/2022 UPDATE: Because I felt something was still missing
from this story at the time of initial publishing, I added a flashback
sequence comparing the last time Loid got involved in this sort of thing
and the current events of this story, and edited some of the text
around it accordingly to graft it in more effectively. If you want to
check out the original version, click or tap the link below!
Originally published version
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Yor Forger's Secret Massage
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“Yor, I’m home…”
“Oh! Back so soon? Is Anya alright?”
“She’s fine. Just… tired, that’s all.”
“Hm? That’s weird, she’s usually a lot more energetic. Especially on a Saturday…”
The blond man stepped through the doorway, having slipped his shoes off on the way in. Setting the size twelves next to the door, he shut it behind him with his free hand, the sleeping pink-haired girl curled up in his left arm. He glanced at his wife, or rather the dark-haired woman whom he had convinced to act as his wife, and wondered what she had been up to all day. Was it just him, or was she cleaning some blood off of her hands in the kitchen sink?
Ordinarily, Loid Forger would be asking a lot of questions within the next few minutes. The best secret agent that Westalis had to offer was in this position for a reason, and being observant without anyone noticing was his forte. But he had to admit that he was not at the top of his game right now, not after having to run after their adopted daughter Anya too many times to count. He would swear that little girl was driving him crazy! It was lucky she was asleep in his arms right now, or else she’d probably run off to turn on the TV and watch Spy Wars once again.
“I’d ask a little more about what you’ve been up to today, but I’m going to have to put Anya to bed first,” Loid replied, his breathing ever so slightly labored. “And honestly, I could use some rest myself.”
Yor Forger turned the sink off and picked up a hand towel to dry herself off, glancing at her supposed husband with a curious expression. “Wait, are you tired, too?”
Loid suppressed a snort with difficulty as he headed towards Anya’s bedroom. Yor was nice, but she could come off as pretty dense at times. “It’s been a long Saturday,” he replied nonchalantly. “Keeping an eye on Anya has been a chore, and running after her before she gets lost or does something that could get her in trouble even more so. My feet are killing me at the moment, and I just want to lie down and give them a break…”
He paused to toe his socks off, letting them sit on the floor for the moment as he headed over to lay Anya down in her bed. Their big white-furred dog, Bond, was already curled up at the foot of the bed, and looked up sleepily to see Loid tucking Anya in. She started snoring a few moments later.
“She’ll be out for a few hours, I think,” Loid muttered as he exited the room, picking his socks up along the way so he could put them in the dirty laundry basket. He trusted Yor to wash them later. “And honestly I think I’ll need a nap as well…”
“Uh…” Yor looked at him in confusion, wondering what sort of crazy escapades he’d gotten up to now. “Aren’t you worried that you may be overworking yourself?”
“Huh? No, I’m fine. Anya is safe and sound, and she should be comfortable now–”
“Yes, yes, but… maybe you need to take a break?”
Loid paused in the act of taking his coat off, looking back at her with his eyes slightly glazed over. “I said, I’m fine–”
“Loid, I can tell you need some rest. Have your clients been proving difficult again?”
Loid swallowed, hoping she wouldn’t notice. As far as Yor was aware, Loid was a psychiatrist, and there was nothing that had ever happened to blow his cover, so no doubt she was assuming he’d had to deal with some very uncooperative patients (as he’d told her he’d done several times before). That said, that assessment was more accurate than she knew – because his mission to investigate the activities of Donovan Desmond, leader of Ostania's far-right National Unity Party, was a long-term one and the reason the charade that he, Yor Forger (née Briar), and Anya had to partake in every day now had been established in the first place, the agency known as WISE had given the master spy, normally known as Twilight, a number of other, shorter missions to finish on the side. There had been an especially high number of such assignments this week, and he would swear that between them and having to keep a wayward Anya from getting into trouble once again (and after that one time where she’d punched Donovan’s son in the face for insulting her, he was taking no further chances), he was running himself thoroughly ragged.
“Well, you can say that,” he mumbled, hanging his coat up on the wall hanger with a haunted look that he hoped Yor wouldn’t catch. In light of the fact that he’d gotten caught and interrogated by an enemy agency the other day and did not want to talk about it, that wasn’t even a lie.
“Gosh, you really have been overexerting yourself,” said Yor, a look of concern on her face. “When I say you need to loosen up and take some time for yourself, I truly mean it. I know Anya can be a handful, but if you want, I can take care of her while you treat yourself to, say, a paid vacation.”
Loid paused in the middle of filling up a glass of water from the tap. “Wait. Are you sure you can handle her?”
She chuckled. “Well, I’ve had to deal with worse for less.”
He took a swig from his glass, turning the suggestion of a vacation over in his head a few times, but found it difficult to think coherently. “I’ll… I’ll consider it. But that thought will have to wait, I’m afraid, because I need a nap, and I needed it yesterday.”
Yor smiled brightly. “Well, go on then! I’ll try and fix something for us tonight and if I can’t, well, we can always go out for dinner.”
Loid couldn’t help but chuckle at this. Yor was great at cleaning, but cooking? Not so much, and that was an understatement. “Eating out definitely sounds safer. I’ll probably need only an hour’s worth of shut eye first, though. That said, waking myself up might be easier said than done, so once you feel we’re ready to head out, please wake me up by any means necessary.”
She blinked. “Any means necessary?”
“I’m not kidding. I’ll need to be attentive in case of another mis–erm, at-home appointment.”
He felt his heart skip a beat and hoped she didn’t catch onto that verbal slip, but mercifully, she was busy wiping the kitchen countertop at the moment. “Am I at least allowed to use that concussive therapy you use at work?” she asked innocently.
Loid, who been taking another drink from the glass, gagged and sprayed the water from his mouth with the grace of a busted fire hydrant. Coughing and sputtering, he whirled to face Yor with a shocked and somewhat offended expression. “W-what?! No! I’m just overworked, that’s all. Just… Whatever method you decide to use, at least keep it to zero broken ribs, alright?”
She nodded in assent, and with a little more haste than normal, he slipped into the couple’s bedroom and out of sight.
