Annabeth:

I read the file again, going over the story.

I was married to Noah.

It was our second anniversary, making us return to the place we met.

I was happy to finally have a job instead of working in the boring North Carolina beach, but it wasn't like this was too much better after scaling buildings had been a regular occurrence. Noah was driving, and I definitely had to admit that he was a much better driver than me.

When I took the job, driving was always important. But you didn't need to be a good driver. In fact, you needed to be an awful driver. Good drivers can't drive down a rocky hill and land perfectly on an interstate. But bad drivers can.

Noah's driving was something that reminded me of what my teacher who taught me how to drive was dreaming of. He was everything that people want. Perfect agent. Probably perfect student and friend. And he looked great, too.

Last night, I could smell the strong dye throughout t/he house, but I didn't give much of a thought to it. Now, I saw that Noah's hair was a perfect, crisp brown. Noah's brown eyes looked a little more realistic, and he was dressed in the perfect outfit for this. There was nothing too memorable about him, but there was nothing forgettable about him, in my opinion. Knowing it wouldn't be long until I would be staring at Noah, I looked back at my folder.

"Don't you think you've read it enough times?" Noah didn't even look away from the road to me when he spoke.

"Just last night, you said I needed to know this," I tried not to look up like he did, but it was kind of hard.

"Touché."

Noah took a turn.

"You don't talk much, do you?" I abandoned my folder to look at him. I closed it and left it on my lap, and Noah still didn't look at me.

"I talk," Noah shrugged, and I continued to stare at him.

"Not much."

"Why do you care about how much I talk?" Noah looked at me for the first time for the entire car ride.

Score one for Annabeth!

"I don't. I'm just noticing it, and, now that I'm thinking about it, we've never spoken about anything not-work related," I continued to stare at him.

"What about this?"

"This doesn't count," I kept wanting him to say something that would give him something. A personality or a past or something.

I didn't know anything about Noah. At least, I gave him hints about me like my father's name. He gave me nothing. He didn't slip up. Ever. I didn't know a damn thing about him or anything. Noah was like a full-time agent who was never not on an assignment. I tried to be myself when I was with him as he was truly the only person I could be myself with, but he didn't seem to care. He didn't stop me from being me, but he definitely wasn't himself.

"Well what do you want to talk about?" Noah continued to drive.

"I don't know. Your past. Your personality. Your interest. I feel like I'm just talking all the time," I crossed my arms over a grey blouse and continued to stare at him, and, as I did, I noticed the small things about him that he tried to hide.

He was six feet three from afar, but six four nearby. His cheekbones were high set but not in a pretty-boy way. Noah's jaw was tightened like he was forever upset about something, and his eyes seemed pain. But I couldn't tell too well as his eyes were really covered by contacts.

"All of it?"

"Preferably, but whatever you prefer," I shrugged.

"Okay, my dad left before I was born. I've been tol.d I'm too loyal. And I like to cook thanks to Anna, who's been helping me since I joined," Noah shrugged, and I shook off the familiarity.

"When did you join?" I asked, suddenly really wanting to know.

"Eighteen," Noah's jaw tightened even more. His brown eyes stared at the highway like tears were coming on, but he pulled it back before I could be sure. I bit my lip not to bring up that this is the most intimate conversation we've ever had.

For years, I didn't give a damn that I didn't have any friends or anything, but I suddenly cared now. I wanted to be friends with him to such an extent that it almost hurt my stomach. I didn't know what it was about him. Maybe it was the fact that he clearly didn't want me that made me want him. But I did know that I wanted him to talk and he wanted me to shut up.

About fifteen minutes passed until I was staring out the window and had forgotten about the conversations.

"I just realized something," Noah spoke, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What?"

"You shut up," Noah smiled, turning his attention to me. I stared at him, and my lips unwillingly formed a smile. Finally, after the shock finished registering, I shoved Noah.

"Hey, no shoving the driver!" Noah smiled.

"You and I both know that saying that makes me want to shove you again," I crossed my arms again.

"With all the talking you've done in the last few days, I know," Noah smirked, and I shoved him again.

"Didn't we just have this conversation?"

"Yeah, then you went and became an ass. It's not my fault," I smirked. I could tell Noah wanted to say something but quickly stopped himself. I stared at him again, not able to look away.

"Why are you always staring at me?"

"I don't know. You're just…" I trialed off, and Noah nodded to urge me to continue.

"You don't talk about anything. Then you're talking. You look so stuffy that I'm weighing my options of going back to being locked up in a cellar in the Ukraine. Then you're laughing. It's almost as confusing as Lost," I complained, and Noah just looked at me for a second before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Oh and you're not?"

"Like what?"

"You keep up your alibi. Then you act like yourself. You seem guarded. Then you're not. You watch things with a painful glance like it reminds you of things. Then you don't. You call your friends and act like you miss them, and then you kind of forget them. So, either you're just as weird as me or some guy screwed you up."

I looked at him, deciding how I should respond.

"Both."

He looked at me for a moment, and I held his gaze to Noah's surprise.

"A girl ruined me, too," he nodded, and I knew he wasn't going to tell me about her. Maybe in a year or two, but he definitely wouldn't now. I'd be easier with telling him about Percy, but it would be a while for him.

I walked through the casino, with Noah on my arm.

"There he is," Noah's warm breath whispered into my ear, and I almost shivered.

I glanced at the direction Noah was talking about.

A short man stood at the blackjack table, and I wasn't surprised at all. His skin was spray-tan fresh, and his face had terrible botox. His hair was newly jet black, but there were a few grey streaks. The suit he was wearing was fresh from the Armani store. His Italian leather shoes probably cost more than my tuition to Harvard, and he was flirting up some blonde beside him.

"What do I need to do again?" I whispered, suddenly scared and worried that I would get it wrong.

"Get the lighter from his back pocket."

I stared at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Let's get a drink," Noah steered me to the bar.

"Two Mojitos"

The bartender went to prepare the drinks, leaving Nosh and I alone.

The casino wasn't very busy, and the bar was even less busy. There was maybe one more person, but they were a few barstools away, talking up a girl.

"How did you know I like mojitos?"

Noah froze.

"Wild guess," Noah shrugged.

The bartender handed us the drinks, and we waited until he was gone to keep talking.

"Now, what the hell about the lighter in the back pocket thing?" I whisper-hissed.

"Listen, there is a code on the lighter. We have the program, but we can't get it without the code. It's on the gold lighter."

"How am I supposed to get it?"

"I don't know. He's so busy with the girl, he probably wont even notice."

"He has a lighter that agencies around the world are trying to get it. I think he'll notice," I hissed.

"Listen, Annabeth, walk past him, pretend to run into him or something. Just get the lighter."

"I hate you," I downed my drink.

"Just go."

I got off my barstool and left what little mojito I had left in my glass.

My red heels clacked on the floors, but I couldn't hear them over the casino's noises. I was sent with a red knee-length dress that hugged my heels, and I'm not sure if Noah packed it or if it was just packed for me. All I do know is that I was wearing it.

The young thing that had been standing next to Marcel went to get herself a pretty little umbrella drink while I went up there. I bit my tongue as I forcibly ran into the fifties-or-so-man and slid out the golden lighter from his back pocket.

He shook a little, completely scared.

"Oh my god!" I apologized, raising my hands to my lips to show how sorry I was, "I am so, so, so sorry."

"It's fine," he chuckled a little bit, and I realized with horror that he probably thought I was flirting with him.

"I really am sorry. I just can't seem to think straight today," I apologized.

"You here alone?"

I bit my tongue not to hit him, and I raised my hand to show a golden wedding band.

"Anniversary. We met in this town," I smiled wide.

"Congratulations. You better get back to him," Marcel clearly didn't give a damn about me after he found out I was married.

"You're right. I really am sorry, by the way," I wheeled around to head back to Noah. He was smiling brightly, and he ordered two more mojitos as I walked up.

"See how easy that was?" Noah smiled, and I shoved the golden lighter at him.

"I hate you," I smiled.

"No you don't," he smiled, too.

"I can't believe I didn't screw up," I continued, "I mean, I know this was a small assignment, but I was so scared."

"I was scared on my first job when I got promoted, too," Noah stopped talking when the bartender brought out two more mojitos, and he handed me one.

"To Annabeth."

"To Noah."

The Next Morning:

I groaned in my sleep and turned over.

As I groggily woke up, I found that I was still in the red dress, and Noah was passed out beside me, also wearing the same thing he had on last night. When my head started banging and my memory from midnight until 3 AM become cloudy, I knew we had been drunk. I remembered coming in here and talking for what felt like hours. Then, I blacked out after another drink.

I shoved Noah.

"I'll be up in a few minutes."

I shoved him again.

He groaned.

"Let me sleep."

"Wake up, Noah."

"No."

"Get up."

He turned over, and I reached for the phone.

"I'll get you coffee."

Noah flipped over as if the offer was tempting, which I guess it was.

"Fine," he sat up.

I ordered to coffees and a small breakfast as I assessed what time the clock said.

Nine.

We had to be out in about two hours.

Before Noah went into the shower, I got a cup of water and swallowed an Advil to help my migraine. The second he saw the bottle, he also took one. Then he was off to the shower, and I was changing into jeans and a V-Neck sweater. I was whipping my make-up smeared face with a wet wipe when Noah came out of the bathroom, wearing only jeans for some weird reason.

"If it isn't Mr. Whiney-Ass himself," I smirked, and he ruffled his soaking wet hair.

"At least I had less than you last night," he smirked as he pulled a blue tee shirt over his jeans, to my dismay.

"You did not," I told him indignity.

"Yes you did," he smirked, and I glared at him, then I realized something.

We were…friends.

He was laughing.

And talking.

"Are you realizing something?"

"What?" he asked, clearly not getting what I was talking about.

"You're talking without me having to order you to."

"I guess I am," Noah shrugged, and someone knocked on the door.

"Room service!" they called out.