"Joan's looking for you," Auggie said, accepting the coffee Annie had brought him. Nothing like the smell of Jo Malone Grapefruit and Starbucks to wake up the morning.

"Really? Do you know what it's about?"

"Think she's got an assignment for you. Watch yourself, Walker."

Annie stopped, lowered her voice. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Don't know. But she seemed – kind of happy. Unusual and thus, worthy of notice. Good luck."

"Thanks," Annie said, going on toward Joan's office. "Happy" was not a word she used mentally in connection with Joan, ever. Could Auggie be misinterpreting something closer to sadistic glee? Given many of her assignments, which had gone very wrong without any prior warning, she couldn't imagine that Joan would happily send her into one that was known beforehand to be particularly dangerous. Well, I won't know until I know, she thought, and knocked on the door.

"Come in, we're just finishing," Joan called out, and yes, there was a slightly different tone to her voice. Annie wasn't sure she would qualify it as "happy", but Joan did look and feel contentedly engaged with whatever was at hand – which of course could be completely unrelated to Annie herself. The Agency does not revolve around you, she told herself.

"Auggie said you were looking for me?"

"Yes. Your file says you are "comfortable" in Basque? What does that mean, exactly?"

"Wel, it's an unusual language, I won't swear to knowing perfect grammar, but I have the basic vocabulary and pronunciation – I can speak to shopkeepers and read information in it with reasonable accuracy."

"That should be sufficient. Actually, it's a bonus – I'd consider you for this assignment regardless. As you know, there is an active Basque separatist movement, some elements of which have not scrupled to resort to terrorism in the past couple of decades. We suspect that there is some crossover in weapons and finances with some of our more prominent enemies, and it seems to be focusing on a small principality called Santa Margarita near the border between Spain and France. Have you heard of it?"

"Isn't that the one that used to be a walled city – the "country" is basically the town and a few high meadows in the mountains?"

"Exactly. Anyway, I need you to go there, install a camera, and check out an olive processing facility that seems to be thriving a little too well in this current world economy. We think it is a front for other activities …" Joan clicked through a few images which showed a beautiful state-of-the-art facility. "There's not that much olive oil to be had in Santa Margarita. Most of the economy is based on only two industries, the main one being banking, as an 'in-the-mountains' offshore haven. It's reached only by rack railway and a few donkey and hiking paths, with a couple of short roads that stay within the borders of the principality."

"So what do I do? Am I a foodie writer? Or scouting luxury olive oil suppliers for Whole Foods?"

"No, you'll check it out as a sightseer and hiker."

"I'm on my own for this one, then?"

"No, you'll have a partner. This is a simple reconnoiter operation we're sharing with Mossad. Any guesses on who that partner might be?"

Annie smiled her trademark crooked smile. "Eyal Lavin."

"Exactly. Apparently Mossad is short on Basque speakers. Did you ever mention that to him? That you spoke Basque?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Someone must have been checking out your file, then."

"He would have access to my file here?"

"Certainly not. But as soon as you showed up on their radar, they would have immediately assembled their own. They're nothing if not thorough. Oh, speaking of thoroughness, Annie, as I mentioned, Santa Margarita is known for only two industries – banking and for some of the loosest marriage requirements in Western Europe, ideal for those burdened with slightly incomplete divorces or insufficiently dead ex-spouses. We don't want you to attract any financial attention, so that leaves the other option."

"Joan, that's – I can't pretend to marry Eyal Lavin!" Joan looked at her, surprised by her outburst. Annie was surprised herself – she'd blurted it out without thinking. Why had she?

"Annie, you won't be marrying anyone. There's a three-day mandated waiting period, which with your arrival day and some luck, should be more than enough time to complete your mission without getting anywhere near an altar or, more likely, mayor's office. If worst comes to worst, it will just be between your cover identities. And if you want to be really sure that there are no possible legal ramifications, you can just skip the consummation portion of the events." She thinks we've already slept together, Annie realized. Or she did till now. "And despite their embrace of quick-marriage tourism, the area is actually very conservative. I don't think it ever recovered from the Moorish Occupation. No one will expect you to be sharing a room prior to the grand event, so you should be able to keep a certain safe distance. If you want to."

"Of course. I mean, of course, I realize that, I know it wouldn't be legal…"

"Annie, do you have some issue I don't know about with Eyal? I thought all things considered, you'd worked well together."

"No. Yes, I mean no issue, we worked well together, it's just, well, he's pretty intense at close quarters and you think he won't try to take advantage of this situation? Just the bad jokes alone are going to be hard to take. "

Joan smiled and held up the file. "While I'd like to have you on the scene with your language skills, this can easily go to someone else, Annie. I have a wide range of agents I could use on this – Santa Margarita legalized gay marriage five years ago. Admittedly, Eyal might be disappointed if an Andrew showed up rather than an Annie, but he's a seasoned pro, he'd deal with it. "

Annie sighed and took the file. However amusing the thought was of Eyal playing gay for the good of the cause was, she had no reason at all not to go and could not even follow her own line of emotional reasoning that had led to her protest. "I'll do it."

"Good. We have you on a flight out tomorrow morning."

Passing Auggie, Annie felt a spirit of mischief take control of her. "Well, I got the details of my new assignment. Are you going to be my handler?"

"Joan hasn't said, but I expect so. Where are you going?"

"Santa Margarita."

"That's off the usual grid. Understand they have good cheese and loose banking regulations."

"And loose marriage requirements – which is fortunate, because otherwise, where else could I marry Eyal Lavin so quickly? Catch you later. Gotta go get some new towels monogrammed."

"Marry Eyal…" Auggie pulled away his headphones and slid back from his desk, about to leap up in pursuit if only that would work. "Annie, get back here. What do you mean? Annie!"

It wasn't Annie who answered him, but Joan. "Relax, Auggie. If you do your job and guide them through fast enough, it won't come to that. There's a three-day waiting period. "

"So the CIA has finally introduced a real productivity incentive program for me."

"Something like that. Materials file by your left elbow. "

"Thank you, Ma'am."

Author Note: Hope you enjoy this so far. This is part of a constellation of stories which all relate somewhat to each other - We'll Always Have Paperclips, Mermaid Beach, and two or three others to come. Please review! Reviews are the cherries on my sundae and much appreciated!