Chapter one:
"Dinner is ready", announces Hannah. To Vaughan and Weiss she is just the maid who helps me managing the household, but she is actually our back up detail. Twenty years ago, her husband was a CIA agent. After he died, killed in action, no explanation provided to the family, she decided to join the Agency, hoping to learn something about his death. I don't really know if she did, she's quite elliptical about the subject, but the fact is that over the years she has become a very well respected back up agent, and as I see it she's been doing a great job in her present mission. We met soon after I got free from the Covenant and contacted Kendall. She helped me recover from the physical and psychological torture I'd endured for several months and encouraged me to put my past at rest and face the new life ahead of me. There was nothing else to do, she insisted. And she was right. Since then Hannah has been a real friend to me. Somehow she understands what I'm going through and, although I'm sure she doesn't approve of my what-I-can't-see-can't-hurt-me attitude about Vaughn and his true feelings towards me (she learned our whole tragic history from me in a specially sad night), she supports me the best way she can, making herself always available and supportive whenever I need to talk or just have some company. And besides that, Weiss has a point: Hannah can cook really well.
Before we sit down to have dinner, Vaughn excuses himself to get a bottle of wine. I invite Weiss to the table, where soup already waits for us. It's onion soup tonight, and Weiss is cheering: it's his favorite. I stop myself from laughing at the happy dance he starts to perform. Suddenly I find myself remembering Vaughn telling me how Weiss celebrated our first date with a happy dance. That night in Nice seems so far away, as if it had happened in another lifetime. I must be smiling now, because Weiss is looking at me kind of curiously. I need to stop slipping like this in his presence. It happens too often. Somehow, he makes me go into an unarmed mode that is quite comfortable but not good to my cover at all. I'm actually getting more and more concerned about Weiss finding out the truth. He seems to like Julia, more each day, and, consciously or not, he's been acting towards me almost as spontaneously and kindly as he used to towards his friend Sydney. Fearing to enjoy that more than I should, I invest all my talent and my strength into suppressing my laughter and my smile and faking the coldest of glares. Weiss gets the intended message, abruptly stops his not so gracious but certainly funny moves and quietly pulls my chair for me. At that I almost shake my head and laugh again: where the hell did he find this gentleman role? It doesn't suit him at all. Even Vaughn, who is just back from the cellar, bottle in hand, has wrinkles of confusion on the front and the shadow of a smile on the lips. This is quite a scene. Weiss gets out well though, with a "What, can't I be polite?" comment to which Vaughn responds with a "I didn't know you could, but I'm quite impressed". "Oh, don't be such a jerk!", I feel like saying, but Julia would never say such a thing, or even get involved in a playful discussion between friends. Too childish for her taste. So, I pretend nothing is happening, which goes just fine with my alias' cold behavior.
This breaks the good mood a little bit, but Weiss seems determined to have a nice evening and asks Vaughn about the wine. He chose a very good French chardonnay that will certainly go well with the fusilli al pesto that Hannah has made for tonight. Vaughn is quite an expert in wines and I wonder, as I have some times before, if this comes from his childhood in France. Back when we were together – for real – I never took the time to ask him such things. I regret it now, not knowing so much about him… Lost in my thoughts, I must have missed something. I almost jolt on my chair when I feel Vaughn's hand lightly touching, almost caressing mine. Startled, I look at him, and he genuinely smiles.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." His head is slightly tilted, and he's still smiling. I feel warm and loved for a moment.
"No, no, I was just distracted, I'm sorry. Did I miss something?"
"I was just asking about your lunch with Cole. Did things go well?
Oh, yes, having lunch with a criminal organization leader who happens to be Mckennas Cole was great! Sloane had manners at least – I caught myself thinking more than once during that glorious meeting. But of course I can't tell Vaughn what I really think of Cole. Julia and her boss are supposed to get along quite well. So all I say is "Yeah, the restaurant was really nice and Cole has some interesting plans for the near future".
"Really?" – he wonders in a tone I came to know well enough. A tone that carries no legitimate interest or concern for me. All that this apparently innocent and harmless "really?" means is Agent Vaughn's devotion to his job. His mission is to gather as much information as possible from his criminal wife, and he makes sure to do a good work. It used to hurt me in the beginning of our relationship: that he actually believed thad I had turned evil, that he would even entertain the idea of using me, of deceiving me in this sort of Jack Bristow / Irina Derevko plot turned backwards. However, as time went by and I realized that I would accept no matter what to have Vaughn by my side, I started to dismiss these intel-interested talks he'd often guide me into as some sort of annoying habit of my husband's. Other wives complain that their husband leaves clothes scattered around or never does the dishes; mine spies on me. So be it. Besides, I have been lying to him too; I am certainly in no position to pass judgement. So I answer his question as if it had no hidden agenda: "He is planning to expand the efforts in the pursuit of Rambaldi's work. Apparently we'll soon have more funds and there might be some experts in linguistics and technology arriving. He's looking for assets." I can tell Vaughn is thinking exactly what I thought when I first heard the news: this could be an opportunity to bring other CIA assets into the Covenant and strengthen our operation. "That's really good news", he says.
"That's really good food" – adds Weiss tasting the pasta – "I need to come have dinner with you guys more often". Vaughn and I exchange amused looks and I know we are done with the "debrief" and set back at the scene of family dinner. It feels good.
After the third piece of lemon pie, Weiss pays his compliments to Hannah and says his goodbyes. I follow Vaughn to the library, where we usually spend a couple hours before going to bed. Hannah brings us some tea and Vaughn gets to his book of the week. It's Calvino's Mr. Palomar. I quietly wonder if he picked it for some special reason or if by now he's made the connection between this character and our present situation. Named after an observatory, Palomar sees things with such objectivity that he seems to be naïve, but ends up becoming the embodiment of a different way to look at the world and understand it. It's quite a lesson, I guess, to people like us, to whom the concept of real itself is cloudy; people who spend their lives trying to find their balance on the thin line between truth and lies, reality and pretense.
"You're almost finished with this one" I say, sitting by his side on the couch. "Yeah, it's a great book. You should read it too." I did, and I am quite sure he knows that, because I recall using that very book as a distraction in one of our handler-asset meetings in a coffee shop in LA; I'm not supposed to remember it though. "I'll borrow it when you're finished." "Okay" he says. He resumes reading and puts an arm around me in an absent-minded gesture. I lean on his chest and he turns a little bit more to my side, almost cuddling me. I close my eyes and let myself relax in his arms. He plants a light kiss on the top of my head and I trail off to sleep, wondering if he still loves me.
