In retrospect, he should have known it was a bad idea to bring her into his bed. In his defense, though, all ideas formed at 4am were inherently bad. Auggie tried to shift his weight without moving the leggy blonde currently sprawled across his body. With a stifled groan he gave up and closed his eyes, cursing, once again, the fire suppression systems at the University of Maryland.
It was supposed to have been a simple job, but, apparently, there was no such thing where Annie Walker was concerned. All she had to do was drive across the Potomac and meet with a Pakistani national studying chemical engineering at UM: a nice, easy, simple, initial contact meeting. The student's father had friends in high places and the young man himself very much wanted to stay in the United States. Their intel said he had no interest in religion, politics, or espionage. Annie needed to convince him to have some passing interest in all three and that he would be able to stay in school in the States if he cooperated.
But somehow (Auggie privately thought it was because the cosmos just loved to see what new mayhem it could create with Annie at the center), Agent Walker stumbled into a college prank gone horribly wrong. Just as she was completing her initial meeting with the target, the fire alarms went off. The library used an aerosolized foam rather than water, for obvious reasons, and that system was also triggered. Annie was caught up in the general chaos that followed. Being Annie, she couldn't just find the nearest exit and head back to Langley. No, Annie had to make sure that everyone else exited the building safely. In the process she breathed in far too much of the fire retardant.
She was still hacking and wheezing when Jai brought her back from College Park. Joan couldn't send her home, since Annie had already told her family that she would be on the Mall setting up for the Smithsonian's annual cultural event. A fire at the Smithsonian, or on the Mall, would have made the news. Without that as a cover, Annie had no business sounding like a lifelong smoker with terminal lung cancer. Auggie, being Auggie, had volunteered to take her to his place. He certainly wasn't going to let Jai volunteer.
Everything had gone smoothly once they reached Auggie's loft. Annie changed into a t-shirt and shorts; Auggie ordered food. The paramedics had dosed Annie with inhaled steroids to help her lungs open up. The CIA docs topped that with a prescription for some heavy duty expectorants to get the rest of the gunk out of her airways. Given that cocktail, Auggie wisely decided to forego the tequila. She'd passed out quickly enough, snoring softly on his shoulder. He left her curled up on the couch.
Until, a retching, hacking, coughing fit woke him at 4am. She was gasping for air and beginning to hyperventilate with panic. It took fifteen minutes of rubbing her back and speaking in soothing words before she started breathing correctly. His own breathing was none too steady by that point. Hearing Annie in distress over a com-link was bad enough, having her gasping for air in his arms made his chest constrict and his gut clench. One way or the other, Annie Walker was going to be the death of him.
And how true that thought was, because when he'd try to coax her back to sleep on the couch she'd whimpered and clung to his arms. Now what guy would have left her alone after that? Well, that bastard Ben Mercer had, twice, but he was an idiot. Auggie scooped her up (glad that he kept up with his Special Forces workouts) and carried her to the bed. She was sick and needed him. He had on a pair of loose pajama-style sweats and she was still in her tank and shorts. They were friends. What could possibly go wrong?
Annie shifted in her sleep, her thigh riding up and over Auggie's own, very tense, thigh and bringing him back to his present problems. Of its own accord his hand began to stroke her knee. Damn it, how short were those shorts? Her hair tangled around his other arm. She murmured something in her sleep and stretched. Auggie couldn't suppress the groan that action caused.
He knew the moment her eyes flickered open, even though he couldn't see. The muscle in her thigh tensed under his still stroking fingers.
"Auggie?" Her voice was slightly hoarse, but she sounded much better.
"Good morning sweetheart." He winced as soon as the endearment left his mouth. It sounded far less flippant than he had intended. She tensed again, trying to sit up.
Auggie growled. His hand clenched her thigh, holding the leg she had thrown across his body in place. He turned his head slightly so that when he spoke his lips brushed feather light half-kisses along her hairline. "Annie you've really got to be still. Let me get up and get a shower." A long cold shower, he thought. "Then I will get you some breakfast.
"Ok," she whispered. The sound of trembling awareness in her voice made that inner not-just-a-friend part of Auggie roar with triumph. If that part of him had its way, he'd hear Annie whisper a thousand endearments in just such a voice. "But why do I have to be still?" She flexed the leg under his hand.
Control frayed to breaking, Auggie flipped her neatly onto her back. He gripped her wrists, on in each hand, and secured them over her head. He didn't need imagination to know how she looked right now. Every hyper-sensitive nerve in his skin told him exactly how she felt and looked. He buried his face in the tangle of hair beside her ear. "Because, Annie Walker, I think you've forgotten that only my eyes are broken." He rocked his hips against her, letting her feel exactly what she did to him. "The rest of me works just fine." He indulged his raging hormones for a moment longer. With a nip at the sensitive junction of her neck and shoulder, he released her hands and pushed himself up and off of her.
As he congratulated himself for a supreme mastery of his body, Annie's voice asked from the bed behind him: "Oh, Auggie. What makes you think I forgot?"