A/N: Hey everybody! So, I've posted a story on fanfiction in general once before but this is my first for Covert Affairs. It'd be FANTASTIC if ya'll gave me some form of criticism that will be helpful for any fics in the future. In any case, this one is a one-shot in Liza's point of view mostly because I actually feel bad for her. I mean, she didn't HAVE to get with Auggie, now did she? Unless you think he's the leak which you better not! So there's that but I also want to say I'm not mad at Auggie in the least. Very smart tactic for him - just sort of crappy for her.
Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read this. Enjoy and comment and maybe I'll try my hand on another one!
Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Covert Affairs. If I did, I would probably have developed some merch (i.e. an Auggie plushie) or at least write for the show. :D
Liza Hearn wasn't much of a romanticist. Well, not until she met August Anderson, anyway.
Ever since she was a teenager, her life centered around two things: family and, more importantly, working for her high school newspaper. That drive, that ability to bargain, negotiate, investigate - all stemmed from what she learned throughout her high school career not to mention those late nights at her college's journalism lab.
When she wasn't focused on her mother's failing health or the next big story to hit the papers, it was all about the future. And not a future filled with a loving husband and over-energetic children but rather, what her career would be like, how far she'd go by the time she was thirty.
It made life so much more worthwhile. More than any guy would make her feel. She'd seen the effects of men starting in high school too. Her best friend was the one who had them at the forefront of her mind, was obsessed with the idea of having kids, dreamed about becoming a homemaker. Liza tried her best not to tell her "I told you so" after each and every break-up they survived together. But, of course, lingering in the back of her mind was the thought that men just weren't worth it.
Not that she couldn't have fun, of course.
Throughout college, she learned how to wrap just about anyone around her finger and if that meant having sex with them well, so be it. That's how she'd gotten the quotes for a story about the violent hazing a certain fraternity was doing as well as the information she needed so she would be able to research more about the president's resignation.
So, when things got more difficult for her new job, she couldn't help but fall back into the old habits. She was so overwhelming pleased how informative her C.I.A. contact was, she didn't mind a second.
Except that he made her feel...different.
She wasn't exactly sure how to describe it but whenever she came home after spending the night at his place, it felt like everything just made sense. And although he'd never said, "I love you", Liza felt as though those exact words were sitting on her tongue, waiting to be said.
She felt safe with him, loved, respected. Everything she had never dreamt of was there for her to take advantage of anyway. She didn't exactly care whether or not he fed her more C.I.A. information or if he was with her for some ulterior motive-...
No, she couldn't think like that.
Her and Auggie were together, in secret but together nonetheless and he wanted to be. Otherwise, why would he treat her so right? Why would he be so caring as they made love every night and had those little moments before heading back into the real world?
That's what it was. He was that dream prince her best friend from high school had always talked about. And no matter what, she would make sure they'd keep their relationship a secret.
Well, until the time was right, anyway.
As she sat at her desk, in the middle of researching some man named Kypur, Liza could say she was suspicious or confused of why Auggie would give her such intel but as she thought about it more and more, she knew she was really just overwhelming happy.
Finally, a guy who understood her, who she could trust, who would always be on her side. Auggie would never betray her.