AN: Before you hunt me down and kill me because a) I should be working on Eritrea not some dumb three-part oneshot, b) I've put Ben in here (just when you thought you were finally rid of him), or c) you're a psycho who feels it's time to kill someone, please let me explain. I'm a bit stuck on Eritrea because I want to send Annie on a mission and am not quite sure how to write that. I apologize profusely for the wait. Now, I'll try to explain this strange creation. This random scene popped into my head the other day: a woman rejects a man who calls her hot only to impress another (way cooler) man. After enough sleep deprivation, I got the crazy idea to turn the scene into an AU Covert Affairs fic (featuring, of course, Annie and Auggie). However, the first thing I found myself writing was actually a oneshot with Ben and Annie. A little angry at Ben for forcing himself into an Annie/Auggie story, I wrote a second oneshot that obeyed my original intention. I like both, though. The first is a true Covert Affairs fic that tries to explain how Annie and Ben met (and why in the world she might have liked him to begin with). The second is an AU fic that tries not to stray to far from the Covert Affairs universe. So you get two very different fics that revolve around the same pivotal scene. Weird scheme, I know. Sorry for the obscenely long authors note!
PS: I don't own Covert Affairs, and the title is actually a line from Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog!
As she moped along the airy beachfront terrace, Annie Walker tried to guilt-trip herself into feeling better. She thought of Danielle who at this time on a Wednesday would probably be trying to wrestle her two daughters into bed for naptime; of her friends stuck behind desks, willing the clock to finally register lunchtime. They'd probably laugh at her and feel just a little bit affronted if they knew that she was miserable. Here she was at a beachfront resort in Arugam Bay without a care in the world: she'd just received her masters in Slavic language and culture, she already had inroads at a job with the Smithsonian, and she was only a week into a month long trip where her only responsibilities were to have as many adventures as possible. Yet Annie was having a crappy day.
She hated the stupid resort. It made her legs twitch and her brain melt. Annie's idea of travelling was to throw herself into the middle of a country and try as hard as she could to untangle the mess she made. Resorts were dumb. Instead of seeing Sri Lanka, she'd shut herself off from it in a sterile bubble of chlorinated pools and fruity martinis. The only reason she was here instead of holed up in some forgotten boarding house was that a friend of hers had cancelled her vacation plans and let Annie stay under her name for free. As a broke graduate student, Annie jumped at anything labeled free. Even though this trip was partially a gift from her obscenely generous grandparents, Annie still jumped at every opportunity to save money. But a three and a half days into her week-long stay, Annie was seriously considering running as far as she could get from this relaxing white cocoon.
In an attempt to dispel some of the nervous energy she knew would result in regrettable decisions, Annie gathered her purse and made her way downstairs to one of the many outdoor bars. She'd become a fixture in her three days here, mostly because the bartender, Paul Ranatunga, was the only friend she'd managed to make. He came from one of the tiny villages around Arugam Bay. His family was Muslim, and he'd joked with Annie that this made him the perfect candidate for a bartender because he would never be tempted to steal any of the alcohol. Annie had replied that she wasn't sure any sane person would want to steal the selection that the resort's bar had to offer, and she had spent the next hour sipping orange juice and making up back-stories with Paul for all the bar's patrons. She grinned and waved at him now as she wove around bathing-suited vacationers in various stages of drunkenness.
"Annie! You look even more bored than usual," he greeted her as she flopped down in her chair at the end of the bar.
"Yeah, I think Sonia was trying to kill me off when she gave me her place here. I feel like the only person on Circe's island who isn't enjoying the party."
"You're very melodramatic aren't you? I can assure you that I, at least, will not be turning anyone into pigs."
Annie half-raised her head from its place on the table to eye Paul. "How does someone who knows Greek mythology end up here of all places?"
"You think I'm here all the time? I just work evenings to pay for school. I'm studying theology in the city. For some reason, my parents don't want me to spend my entire life serving tourists martinis." He was too nice to reprimand her, but Annie could tell that he was kind of offended that she'd assumed he was fixture at the resort.
She sat up. "That, my friend, deserves a high five." She wasn't the sort to admit it, but she was ashamed that she'd been so quick to stereotype. Luckily for her pride, Paul just grinned, accepting her strange gesture as the apology it was.
"Speaking of, I actually have to go home early tonight. Exams start in two days. You want an orange juice before I take off?"
"Nah – I need a change today especially if I have nobody to rant to for the rest of the evening. Just make something delicious."
"Sure thing."
"And don't put any alcohol in. I don't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow."
Annie watched as Paul mixed juice from about ten different bottles, and accepted the pinky-orange liquid proffered.
"This is actually one of the best things I've ever tasted."
"You said to make something delicious."
Annie just took another sip, but then frowned, seeing that the concoction was already half gone.
"Please tell me your replacement also knows how to make this stuff."
"Yup – just ask for a Grapefruit Ambrosia."
"Apt name. Good luck studying, my friend."
"Have fun with your non-alcoholic drinking."
Annie turned to watch the martini-induced antics of the resort's dinner crowd. It was already almost nine, but people were only just showing up. There weren't that many entertaining drunks yet, so Annie made a quick trip back to her room to collect two Russian books she'd been meaning to read.
Two hundred pages and five Grapefruit Ambrosias later, Annie was feeling quite a lot better. If she couldn't escape to far-off countries in reality, she was always guaranteed adventures in a fictitious one. A tap on her shoulder brought her back to Earth, though. Looking in the direction of the tapping, Annie found herself staring at a youngish blonde man whom she guessed was Australian. When he spoke, his accent confirmed her guess. Annie did a mental happy-dance. She was getting good at guessing these things.
"Hi, sweetie, you're hot," the guy slurred at her. In her initial assessment, Annie hadn't realized quite how drunk he was. Her internal happy-dance turned into an outward eye roll. Not only was that the worst pickup line ever – even from a drunk guy – but he'd taken her away from an epic battle on the Russian Steppe just to tell her that?
"Excuse me?"
"I told you: you're hot!" he said again, sounding more than a little proud.
"I see," Annie folded her arms, gathering herself with a deep breath, "You know what I am buddy? I'm beautiful, intelligent, and strong. I can speak five languages and find my way around Bombai without a map. I've climbed a Mount Mckinley with a broken ankle and eaten ghost chilies in Thailand. You wanna know the best part? I'm taken," here Annie looked around wildly, pointing across the room at a random partygoer, "See that lovely lady over there? She's been my girlfriend for six months now, so I'm sorry but if the only word you can think to add to my list is hot I'm pretty sure we're both wasting our time." With that, Annie spun back toward the bar, glancing over her shoulder at the retreating drunk who looked more than a little confused. Annie smirked into her drink. She'd been waiting a long time to do that. On a particularly boring Friday night, she and her roommate back home had written and rehearsed rejection speeches, but Annie had never gotten to use hers yet. The taken part was an inspired piece of improve, though. Annie was quite proud of it. She was just about to go back to her Russian battle when somebody else sat down in the chair next to her. She dearly wanted to just ignore him. What was this anyway? Hit on Annie night? But he didn't hit on her. He just ordered a drink from not-Paul and sat placidly, sipping away. Annie's curiosity got the best of her, and she glanced over. Her mental catalogue worked quickly: dark hair, medium height but stocky, mid to late twenties, and definitely not drunk. He was very average looking, but something about the way he sat made Annie's heart involuntarily beat faster. It sounded really weird, but Annie could tell just from the way he sat that this man didn't belong here. He looked like adventure: that was it, and suddenly Annie wanted to know all about him. He turned to face her, and Annie was thrown by his blue-gray eyes which were dancing with an impish smile.
"I know you're not gay," was the first thing he said to her. Annie folded her arms, more than a little put-off by his non-sequitur.
"That's the weirdest line I've ever heard."
The guy shook his head, and the smile in his eyes twitched to the rest of his face, "It's not a line – just an observation."
"People make the wrong observations all the time," Annie replied while mentally kicking herself. OK, the guy was a little weird, but she was attracted to him for some strange reason. Why was she pushing him away?
"Not me," he replied with a slight shake of the head.
"OK… sorry. I'm still on edge, I guess. This creepy Australian literally just tried to pick me up by telling me I was hot. Let's start over. I'm Annie Walker," she said, holding out her hand.
Her new friend shook her hand and chuckled, "I thought your reply was the coolest thing I've heard in a while," he paused, eyes twinkling, "even if it sounded a little rehearsed." His conversation was so natural, and for some reason Annie felt she could trust him. She cracked into a grin of her own, and covered her face in mock embarrassment saying, "I'm sorry! You must think I'm a cruel person. I swear I do other things with my free time than make up creative rejections."
"I can see that. You also pretend to read Russian novels about Nevsky's battle with the Mongols," he said, gesturing to Annie's forgotten book.
"I don't pretend, thank you very much!"
"No. Sorry. It's just been a while since I met someone who speaks Russian."
"You do I take it."
"Only partially. I speak fluent Tamil, though. I'm actually here teaching English."
Annie eyed him skeptically, "Why in the world are you here then?"
The guy's eyes suddenly shifted, and Annie could've sworn he was giving himself a mental slap. But in the next second he was grinning again, and Annie didn't have time to think about it.
"Well I came here to rescue you of course."
"Yeah 'cause I totally look like a damsel in distress," Annie laughed, happy to play along with his flirting.
"Not really. But you do look really bored."
"Ah, so you thought that bombarding me with non-sequiturs and then insulting my choice of reading material would cheer me up," Annie said, folding her arms but smiling nonetheless.
"It's worked so far hasn't it?" Annie smiled. She had no idea who this guy was, but it was true that he'd managed to cheer her up in three short minutes of conversation. There was a comfortable pause as they both sipped their drinks.
Suddenly, her new friend turned toward her excitedly, "Hey, do you want to go on an adventure?"
It was on the tip of her tongue to say yes, but she paused for a second. Who the hell was this guy? He definitely wasn't one of the tourist crowd. Annie had ascertained that much. Why did she feel so drawn to him? That was easy – he'd just asked her on an adventure, and she'd been looking for any escape from this stupid resort. The harder question was: why did she trust him so fully? And should she?
He saw the hesitation in her face, but didn't urge her to come with him. He just waited, hopefully, eagerly. He looked kind of like a kid, and Annie decided that the chance for adventure was bigger than the risk of trusting a complete stranger.
"OK. But tell me your name first."
He smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, sorry. I've sort of been conditioned not to mention my name too quickly." Annie wondered why. Was he some sort of celebrity?
"I'm Ben Mercer, and I would very much like to go on an adventure with you, Annie Walker."
Annie took his proffered hand, and shook it enthusiastically, pulling them both up as she did so. They wove their way through the throng of people, but Annie stopped at the foot of the staircase.
"Wait, Ben. Are we coming back here?"
"Do you want to?"
Annie's stomach squirmed with excitement, "nope," she replied.
"Then go get your stuff, and we'll be off."
Five minutes later, Annie was checking out. Her heart was lighter than it had been in four days, and her toes tingled with excitement. She had no clue if following this Ben Mercer was a good idea or not, but she had a good feeling. She was finally going to throw herself into a country again, and she was fully prepared to untangle any mess she made in the process. At the last moment, she thought of something, and turned back to the check-out lady.
"Will you tell Paul that Annie wishes him good luck on his exams? And let him know I'm sorry that I couldn't tell him myself. I'm off on a crazy adventure."
"Sure," the lady replied, looking a little confused.
Annie turned away, and flew out the doors to where Ben was waiting. She grinned up at him like a crazy person, and took his hand as they waited for the bus that would begin their adventure.
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