"Annie…" With a warning tone in his voice.
"Auggie…" She replied with the same seriousness in her voice, ringing out from the kitchen.
Auggie sighed. Annie had been harassing him ever since they left the office and it had already been one long taxi cab drive. What is with this woman? She's so persistent.
Auggie exasperated finally replied, "Do we really need to talk about this, now?"
After a long day at work, the last thing he needed was a test of his abilities during an interrogation. Usually during an interrogation there were threats, curses, blindfolds, and of course a few punches thrown in for good measure by the other party – so how was it that dodging Annie's questions always proved to be infinitely harder?
"What's wrong with right now?" Annie looked up at him innocently enough, although the face she made was lost on him. Making her way back into his living room, she nonchalantly joined him on the couch, sitting back, clearly relaxed in her surroundings.
"One, I know we both work for the CIA – but you don't really need to practice your interrogation skills on me. You JUST conducted three today. Haven't you had your fill?" He chuckled to himself, she had too much energy. "And two, I was hoping for a quiet relaxing time with a friend, a few beers, and the soft voice of Mingus – Mingus" he said again for emphasis, "And three - my place, my rules" he paused, a beat, "Oh, stop making that pouting face, you know it's not working." Reprimanding her gently but letting a soft smile creep onto his face when he heard her grunt of discontent, a sign that he was spot on about her pout.
It was times like these that he had to remind himself that Annie was not only his best friend – but like every other woman he knew, needed to know everything about his dating life. Ever since the Liza Hearn ordeal, she had made it her prerogative to do a check up on his love life every so often – at first it had started as a joke, but now it became a weekly routine. He really was in the friend zone…Damn.
"Aww, come on, you're no fun!" Annie whined, jokingly, "Ready? Just bullet points! Basic details - name, age, location -" her voice excited again, clearly his last statement vanishing from her memory. In her excitement, she had scooted closer, positioning herself slightly behind him, to lean her chin onto his shoulder. He knew that if he actually had his sight right about now, he wouldn't be able to resist the puppy eyes she was most definitely using right at that moment.
Her hands unconsciously came up to play with the curls at his nape and he could feel her soft breath against his skin, tinged with the smell of alcohol, and oh so inviting. For the love of god, could someone please tell him why they were just friends?
Auggie grunted, half because he was exasperated and half because he was attempting to clear his throat that suddenly felt too tight. Maintaining his cool he replied with an even voice, "And risk you using the CIA database as your own high tech stalking tool – yeah, right" Auggie's eyebrows raised as he turned his head sideways to talk to the face that was still resting against him, his eyes wandering to her forehead. His knees brushed hers, as he gave her a knowing look, and wondered if she felt any spark when they so often made contact.
Unbeknownst to him, Annie had suddenly stopped breathing normally. Too focused on controlling his own thoughts, he didn't notice the hitch in her breath. He didn't know that his sudden movement had placed his lips only a few centimeters apart from hers. A sudden impulse gripped her which she fought to put down, her breath caught in her throat, his adorable lopsided grin making her stomach flip.
"I wouldn't… " she caught herself, knowing that she did exactly just that before, and he had caught her red handed, so to speak… Though to be fair, she was pursuing a line of inquiry, a lead for an investigation about a rogue agent, even if he was an ex-flame - "Okay, fair—"
Annie leaned back, moving her face away, fingers still absentmindedly playing with his hair at the nape of his neck, dispelling the tension that only she probably felt. She let the subject drop, not really wanting to hear about the other women in his life. Her back against the arm of the couch, she moved to face him and positioned herself so that her legs was strewn across his lap. When had they become so comfortable with each other?
They fell into a peaceful silence, both letting the soft sounds of jazz waft over them. His iTunes had long since moved on from Mingus, and moved on to the comforting sounds of Dexter Gordon. He let the sound engulf him and focused on Annie's smell as he leaned back, relaxing into her hand that was still on his neck. He turned his face to face her, moving his face into her hand, the movement causing her hand to naturally cup his face in her hand. Did he remember to shave? She made no attempts to free her hands from its place between his jaw and the couch. He breathed quietly taking in the moment, knowing that she was probably looking at him, but lost in her own thoughts.
She smelled so good tonight, of soft citrus. Her perfume that she had sprayed on her wrists was now attacking his senses as he let his face rest in her hand a little longer than necessary. With Annie's hand trapped between his face and the couch, he resisted the urge to nuzzle into it. When did the lines of their friendship blur?
Relenting he replied, facing forward again, grudgingly away from the soft warm hands that had caressed his face. "If you really want to know … I honestly don't really remember much about the date. I tuned her out after about ten minutes" Taking a few seconds to mull over his statement, he reconsidered "Maybe five".
"That bad?" Was that a sound of relief in her voice?
"She was gorgeous from what I gathered, but really – a woman that can't tell the difference between a saxophone and a trumpet?" Auggie shook his head his thoughts trailing off. He had perfectly planned a nice evening out – with wine, live jazz, and candles - a girl would have to TRY to make things go wrong. But with his luck, things went wrong. "We spent maybe half an hour there before she asked if we could leave to go to dance to some 'real' music". Auggie shrugged, annoyed with his own judgment of women.
"That bad." It was more of a statement than an answer to her own question and Auggie could hear the cringe in her voice.
"Yeah – " Auggie replied exasperated, taking another sip of his beer.
"This is what, the seventh failed date? – In the last two months? Losing your touch with the ladies, Auggie?" Annie polished off her third beer, setting it down gently on the table, now turning her full attention to him.
For the past few months, Auggie had started dating again for some reason. It came as a shock to the whole department, when Auggie started to keep his distance from women that spontaneously appeared next to him at The Tavern after work. The walks of shame disappeared and his normal debonair self was found to be curt at times with women who wanted nothing more than a one night deal. Gossip exploded – the Casanova of the agency was getting serious? Seriously? Actually dating girls instead of just bringing them home for one night? Dating. Why? Had he really not slept with any of them? Annie mulled over the thought. Trying to figure out why this change brought her so much grief, she quickly brushed the thoughts and questions from her mind.
"Excuse me – just the sixth, thankyouverymuch" Auggie replied rather indignantly, reeling Annie back into the conversation, "and it's not my fault the dates went terribly wrong." They all had bored him to death. Her voice was too monotone. She bathed in floral perfume. She was too aggressive. She wasn't aggressive enough. What terrible taste in music. She was too type A. Too self righteous. Too active, not active enough. She doesn't know what the inside of a book looks like. Terrible kisser. No chemistry. Too short. Too annoying. Too flaky. He had a million reasons why things hadn't worked out with the women he had dated the last few months – but he had to admit, there was really only one reason why all the dates had failed.
"You sure?" Annie grinned, "So far you've gone on dates with a lawyer, a pediatrician…" Annie held up her hand ticking off on her fingers, "a poet, a kindergarten teacher, a divorcée, and what was the last one?... A yoga instructor?" A slight frown formed on her face as she tried to remember Auggie's horror stories about his dates – all of the names forgotten and insignificant. "They're all such different women – the one commonality is that they took an interest in you." She took a deep breath and jokingly shrugged and let out an exaggerated sighed, "I hate to break it to you Augs" tipping her head forward and looking pointedly at him, "but maybe you're actually the problem".
She smiled triumphantly at his look of dismay.
"I could say the same for you and all those blind dates your sister sets you on," Auggie retorted, smiling to let her know it was a friendly jab.
"So not the same, those dates were forced upon me" she said, defending herself and her dignity. They all had bored her to death. His voice was too monotone. He reeked of cologne. He was too aggressive. He wasn't aggressive enough. What terrible taste in music. He was way too type A. Too active, not active enough. He doesn't know what the inside of a book looks like. Terrible kisser. No chemistry. Too short. Too annoying. Too flaky. They all had been too talkative or not talkative enough. Tiresome, wearisome, repetitive, uninspiring, mind numbingly uninteresting – she was running out of synonyms in her head.
"Just let me know when you find a girl who wouldn't mind a devastatingly good looking, incredibly intelligent, charismatic, and charming guy – and can appreciate a perfect night out"
"Wait, what? Who? Where?" Annie replied, with mock disbelief and excitement, looking around Auggie as if her dream guy would suddenly appear from behind the couch. "You've been holding out on me," she teased.
"Ah, if you only knew… I'm actually an excellent date. I happen to be very good at planning dates out—it's just 'the best laid plans of mice and men, often go awry' or whatnot. You know, totally not my fault." Auggie said with his joking confidence.
Annie didn't doubt his statement though… because, despite his humor that was often coupled with his confidence, she was quite aware of the fact that Auggie would probably be an amazing date. She'd be damned if she ever admitted it to him though – his ego was already big enough. But, she mused, Auggie's attention to detail not only reflected in his work at the CIA, but in every aspect of his life – from his clothing, to his music, to his dates even, apparently. Too bad his efforts were lost on that last girl who had no appreciation for jazz… if it had been her… She stopped herself from finishing the thought. Was she jealous? No, she just didn't want him to waste his time with such duds.
"Ah, if you only knew… how incredibly cocky you sound right now," Annie said, rolling her eyes.
"Don't believe me?"
"Not a bit."
"Then I'll prove it"
She laughed, wondering how the girls at the agency would react if August Anderson suddenly walked up to them and asked if they thought he was a good date or not, "We taking polls?"
"No, I'm taking you out on a date." Auggie concluded matter of factly.
There was such a confident tone to his voice that Annie couldn't help but stare in shock. Looking for a sign that he was joking, she found none in his face. His face was completely relaxed and resolute in the decision that was made on a whim.
Annie quickly recovered, "You realize you're getting the better end of the deal – I'm a pretty good date myself"
"We'll see about that."
She smiled. It was just one date. On a whim, decided during a bet, between two friends – then why was her face mirroring the lopsided grin in front of her and her face warming into a faint blush?
To be continued…