It was the kind of night most C.I.A. agents would, and have, killed for. Annie Walker clocked out at 5 p.m. sharp, paperwork filed and desk tidied. For the first time in a long time, everything was all squared away. She was so impressed with herself that she skipped a trip to the tavern and cut straight to a night with Ben, Jerry and the DVR. Lights out at 11. It was like a dream, until...

Vvvvv-VVVV.

No. Annie rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillows. Nope.

Vvvvvv-VVVVVVVV.

She caught a glimpse of Joan's face on the caller ID. Shit. She felt around, eyes half-open, until she located the Accept Call button.

"Hello?"

"Annie, I need you in the office now, please." Annie wanted to respond but the line was already dead. Joan was on the warpath.

The clock said 1:24 a.m.

Annie stumbled into the too-bright bathroom and splashed some water on her face. She inspected the dark circles under her eyes. Despite tonight's rude awakening, they were less noticeable than they had been in months. This meant she was getting better at sleeping alone. It meant she was getting better at sleeping in general. It was progress. It was good.

Her hair, on the other hand, was telling a different story.

...

Langley was bustling. Annie couldn't remember the last time she saw this many people at work on a Monday morning, much less 1:30 a.m. on a Friday.

No sooner was she out of the elevator that she had a hop-on in the form of Auggie Anderson. He attached himself to her elbow and matched her stride down the hall.

"Morning, sunshine," he chirped with obnoxious energy.

"What are you still doing here?"

"Never left. I'm actually just headed to Joan's now."

"You too?" Annie cocked her head to the side. "What does she need to talk to you about?"

"Beats the hell outta me, Walker. Morning pep talks are usually your department. Though it might have to do with whatever imminent crisis has sent the Agency into a frenzy now."

Annie peeked around. The majority of her coworkers were not only present, but busy. "What did I miss?"

"Maybe that's what's in the box."

Auggie flashed her a grin. Before Annie could so much as knock, Joan's door flew open.

"I need to speak with Auggie first. Annie, wait out here."

Annie did as she was told. Auggie smirked. "Won't be but a minute."

...

"Please shut the door behind you and take a seat. Chair's on your left," Joan's voice was icier than usual. It put Auggie off.

"No, thanks. I think I'll stand."

"Suit yourself," Joan rustled some papers. "But you might want to sit down for this."

"For what?"

Joan took a pause. "I want to preface this by saying that your dedication to the agency is admirable. Your history of professionalism in the face of potential conflicts of interest is nothing short of impressive."

Auggie's brow furrowed. "You wanted me to take that sitting down?"

"I'm not finished," Joan snapped. "At 2300 this evening, in Washington D.C.'s International District, a Chinese-American professor named Zhen Yang sold 8 billion dollars worth of American secrets to the Chinese mafia in a backdoor dealing. Apparently, one of the parties didn't come through. Shots were fired. Three members of the mafia are dead. Yang's partner was caught in the crossfire and abandoned. It is thought that the intel never changed hands; wherever Yang went, he took the secrets with him."

"He sounds like a winner."

"Auggie, I want to reiterate that if you want nothing to do with this case, we can assign it to someone else."

"I don't understand..."

"That's where this gets dicey. Yang was a professor at William & Mary College. He taught under the name Charles Yao. His partner was his lover and former student... Lucille Anderson."

It took him a moment, but the realization hit him like a brick wall at eighty miles per hour.

"No..." The air was gone from the room.

Joan spoke as if the words were thumbtacks in her mouth. "She was shot, we believe, by accident, when Yang made the switch."

"Please tell me she's okay. Oh god please tell me she's not dead." All he could hear was his own heartbeat. He couldn't find that chair now if he tried.

"We have her in custody. The wound is not fatal; the bullet's been removed. She's extraordinarily lucky."

Auggie wasn't sure if he was going to vomit or not. Now would be a damn good time to be able to locate a trash can. "So, what, you want me to question her?"

Joan treaded lightly. "If she answers honestly, she could be our greatest asset in finding Yang and keeping those leaks from going viral."

"She's a kid!" Auggie exclaimed, clarity returning to him like a slap in the face. In a second, isolated panic had become sharp, vibrant anger. He hadn't meant to shout.

Joan's voice was hard. "She is a twenty year old woman who was romantically involved with her professor. She's hardly a little girl. If you agree to this mission, you and Walker will be absolutely invaluable."

"I need to speak with her."

"And unless you agree to the terms presented, I can't let you do that."

...

Annie was walking back to the lobby with a cup of coffee when Auggie came storming out of Joan's office, nearly knocking her over.

"Whoa. Hello,"the hot coffee sloshed across her blouse, but Auggie was already halfway down the hall.

...

Auggie gripped the edges of the sink, wondering if he could rip the whole unit out of the wall. Probably, if he really concentrated on it, but his mind was a thousand places at once, a million little lights bouncing around in the dark. He couldn't focus his energy on just one. He tried to catch his breath, to no avail. He was spitting fire.

The door opened, followed by the clipped echo of high heels on linoleum.

"You're not supposed to be in here," said the bastard taking a leak nearest the exit.

"What are you, my mother?" Walker snapped. The guy scurried away without washing his hands, leaving Auggie and Annie alone.

"What are you doing?" Auggie demanded. He was the worst version of himself right now and he knew it. When he was calm again, he'd regret it, but not right now.

"Thought I'd reminisce a little. It'd be more poignant if you were on the other side of a stall door, but this will do just as well." She retrieved a towel from the automatic dispenser and ran it under some water. "Plus, you got coffee all over my shirt, so I'm killing two birds with one stone."

She took her time blotting the shirt as he seethed. Her calm was contagious. He slowly felt the acidic rage evaporate in the face of her cool demeanor.

"So," Annie put a hand on his shoulder. "You wanna tell me what that was back there?"

Auggie shook his head, feeling like an obstinate toddler. There weren't words, and if there were, he was in no position to string them together.

"Does this have to do with Joan?" Annie prodded. Her thumb moved almost imperceptibly, massaging his shoulder. She'd make one hell of a hostage negotiator.

He exhaled deeply, releasing his grip."They have my niece in custody. They're trying to tell me she was involved in some massive sale of government secrets to China..."

Annie removed her hand. "You're kidding."

"Someone shot her."

"What? What happened?"

"I don't know. I don't know... They want her to be an asset but I can't..." He brought his fist down on the counter. Hard. Ow.

Annie's phone buzzed from the depths of her pocket.

"And there's Joan with the news," she snarled. "Right on schedule."

She didn't answer it, though. Instead, she put her arm across his shoulders and leaned in, so her lips were only inches from his ear.

"Listen to me. This is what we do. But you're going to be all right. Whatever this is, it's all going to be all right."

And as she click-clacked out the door, Auggie realized he believed her.