The Secret Service ~~~

6 - When One Becomes Three

Chapter Six - When One Becomes Three

Manius fussed with his stick. 

The intricate design of a dragon, it's silver tail dragging down the black pole, was wonderful. But it wasn't practical. He wondered if he should've chosen his "house stick" as he called it - a plain wooden stick with a hooked handle, one that made walking easier - but it was already too late. He was halfway downstairs already. His "outer stick" would have to do.

In the kitchen, he heard the sweet humming of a tune. As he stepped closer, awkwardly angling himself, he peered round the door.

Bridget was the one humming as she whirled around cleaning, scrubbing, and washing. Even with no one in the house, it was still their duty to run the place as if it were full. Though they weren't field agents, they still had as much responsibility because they prepared and backed up the agents - which, sometimes to Manius, was even more important.

The tune swiftly changed to one Manius didn't know. Bridget often hummed or sung the tune to a song which swiftly would change into a childhood lullaby. She only ever did it when she was alone, but Manius liked to listen if he could. He only wished he knew what she was singing, how the song felt in her heart, if they were words, and how those words affected her.

The door behind him crunched open. Manius swung around and tapped away, his stick hitting the floor gently until he was near the stairs as to not give himself away.

He straightened up the best he could and stopped in front of the door. He adjusted his black shirt and then winced, having to bend forwards slightly. A damned accident in his first ever mission had compromised his back - shrapnel had cut through nerves, his discs had moved elsewhere, and the blast had burnt some of his skin. But Bridget hadn't been hurt. A price worth paying. Not that she knew.

Petra and Lucas came through the door. Manius bowed as best he could, having to put two hands on his stick to do so, but managed.

Lucas came past, not stopping to talk, but gave Manius a look and also a pat to the shoulder. Manius was years younger than Lucas, yet the message was clear as it always was - he was doing a good job.

Petra didn't pass him over so quickly. She stepped forwards, shrugging off her heavy looking coat. In the light of the entrance, she seemed young. She was. She was only thirty four. Manius was twenty - years younger than some of the new recruits. But sometimes it was easy to forget. Age here didn't matter, not much. 

Before, recruits used to come down the families. Parents would be recruits, then they'd have children, and then the children would take the mantle. A few newbies would come here and there, then they'd marry veteran recruits and so the lines continued. Families would be born here and continue. Then, things changed. A large tragedy had happened, leaving Petra, Lucas, and one other that they never spoke about. They'd then recruited Manius, his twin, and Bridget, but Manius' accident had forced him to pull out - the other two, he didn't know about, even Maddox. A few years passed but then the time came when there was too much for two people and three helpers, and that was where they were now. 

Maybe they'd come a time with this new group where families would grow here again, they'd keep the mantle passing and the world turning together.

"How's the pain?" Petra asked, giving Manius' body a once over. Her eyes were kind, something odd to see in her sometimes because she was stern.

"Bearable, Ma'am," he answered. 

"We can get you into a clinic, to even see a specialist," Petra told him for about the hundredth time.