Hey Everybody! Well, this is the last chapter. It's sad. Not the chapter, just that this is the end. For now. See my last note for insight on what that means. :)

Grab your midnight snacks or other munchies and enjoy!

Thanks: Phoenix, my wonderful Beta. This story wouldn't have started without you (literally, since you helped me plan it out). And thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited or alerted (and to all those who will). (This is my most alerted story! And it's only four chapters! Craziness!) Your kind words and encouragement make me all sorts of happy and giddy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Covert Affiars or any of the characters associated with it. If any form of this plot ends up on the show (hey, it's happened!) I don't own that either I guess. One day. . .

Chapter Four: Breathless

Bright, early morning light startles Annie awake and out of her dream. It amazes her that she can be in a steamy dream one moment and be wide awake the next. She feels completely rested; the ache in her shoulder isn't as intense anymore either. Annie thinks her good night's sleep might be a gift from the man who left rumpled bedsheets behind when he got up this morning.

She's not sure when Auggie came home and snuck into bed with her, but she remembers the moment her nightmares ceased and a more pleasant dream took place—one in which Auggie was shirtless, pantless, and kissing her senseless. Even now the details flame to life in her mind, tempting her to go back to sleep.

One look at the bedside alarm clock tells her that is not a possibility. She's already overslept. Auggie must have turned the alarm off when he got up to shower. The water is still running in the other room.

Getting out of bed, she gets dressed in the cleanest clothes she can find in her disorganized suitcase. Annie hurries, not just because she's late, but because she doesn't know what to say to Auggie about last night's kiss. She still doesn't know how to feel about it; her mind can't process what happened. What she needs is stall time; more than she has.

When Auggie emerges from his shower, fully clothed, he hears Annie in the kitchen. Utensils clatter and drawers and cupboards bang shut. He wonders why she's in such a rush.

"Morning," he says. "You giving breakfast another go?"

"Just toast and butter this morning," she says in apology.

"So you can cook something," he remarks, sinking his teeth into a semi-charred piece of toast and realizing he spoke too soon. He grimaces, but swallows, hoping that she doesn't see his reaction.

Apparently she is too distracted to notice and Auggie wonders what's on her mind. He wonders if their kiss in the kitchen last night is playing over and over again in her head as well. It's the only reason he can think of to explain her behavior.

"We running that late?" he asks.

"We probably have time to grab coffee and something to eat in the lobby." Annie pulls on her jacket but foregoes wearing her shoulder sling.

"No big deal. I wasn't really hungry," he says.

"Me neither."

He covers the burnt toast with a napkin and subtly pushes it in the trash. There's no reason to hurt her feelings.

"I'm ready," Auggie says.

"All right. Let's go."

They head for the door, grabbing an umbrella and their trench coats on the way, ready for stormy D.C. weather.

Annie honks the horn, frustrated at the bumper to bumper traffic. It is the first significant sound to fill the car's interior.

The silence between them is killing her. She's never felt this nervous or self-conscious around Auggie. She hates it. It almost makes her regret their kiss, but only just. Why the kiss has them both so jumpy and acting like a pair of bumbling juveniles is a mystery.

But Annie's not going to let one little kiss—however amazing—screw up their relationship. If a romantic relationship isn't possible—and who says it's not, or if that's even what she wants right now—she will do her best to get them back to where they were before last night. This silence cannot, will not, be tolerated.

"Aug. . ."

"Ann. . ."

They speak the first syllables of their names simultaneously. Annie smiles; great minds. . .

"Go ahead," she offers.

"No, you go."

"I don't really know what I was going to say," she admits truthfully.

"Me either. But one of us has to say something."

She nods in agreement. "This whole teenage awkwardness thing is beneath us. We are adults and we will handle this like adults."

"Right."

"It was just a kiss."

"Right." He doesn't know how to tell her any different, even though she's wrong.

"Right?"

They both laugh at the repetitive answer, but it's a fake sound and not fooling either of them; they're only fooling themselves by pretending there isn't something between them. They sober up quickly and the car is cast back into an unbearable, even more awkward silence.

Annie rolls down the window; the air in the car is suffocating.

Auggie opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again. He wants to say that they can't get carried away like that again because they work together and things would get complicated. He wants to ask her to stay at his apartment a little longer because he likes having her there. He wants to tell her that it wasn't just a kiss; not to him.

He says nothing.

Annie glances over at Auggie and sees the deep furrows on his brow, sees his mouth forming unspoken words, like he's struggling with what to say. She's in a similar situation and is relieved to know she's not alone. Then she realizes that her mouth is mimicking his and comes close to smiling. Instead, she snaps her jaw shut so suddenly that her teeth catch the side of her tongue and she winces from the twinge of pain.

Annie wants to thank him for helping her out and giving her a place to crash while she recovered. She wants to say how much it means to her to have someone there when she needs him. She wants to tell him that last night wasn't a heat-of-the-moment reaction—the intensity of the kiss was certainly unexpected, but similar feelings and desires have been itching under her skin for months.

She wants to say a hundred different things to him, but her body won't let her. Because what if Auggie turns out to be like Ben after all? What if he just up and leaves one day? Even if it's a slim possibility, she can't handle that again. It's taken her three years to get this far, to get over Ben's betrayal.

They arrive at headquarters without saying another word to each other. Still, Auggie uses Annie as his guide into the building instead of his laser and it gives her hope that they will be able to put this behind them and get back to normal. Maybe it'll happen sooner than she thought.

Annie touches his forearm when he moves to disappear inside his office without her. He stops and turns back to face her.

"Auggie," she says, "We're okay, right?"

She sounds so worried; her voice is a little shaky. He squeezes her good arm and gives her a reassuring smile.

"We're okay."

"Really?"

"Annie, if you wanna act like nothing happened, I get it. We'll just chalk the kiss up to flirtation gone awry."

She pauses for an extended second, then says, "You call that kiss flirtation? I think you're underestimating your prowess."

"Oh, I never underestimate," he says with a wink and a devilish grin. "That kiss was nothing compared with what I'm capable of."

She clears her throat. "I'll have to take your word on that one."

"I'd be more than happy to demonstrate." He opens his arms in invitation.

"Joan's waiting for me."

"Ah, the old, 'I have work to do' copout." Auggie shrugs. "Your loss."

Her mood lightens as their normal banter returns. She begins to walk away, but says over her shoulder, "What? No rain checks?"

She hears his grin in his voice. "In your case, I'll make an exception."

"We're in position," Jai tells Auggie through his headset.

Auggie scans over the schematics of Lucas Ignacio's hideout—located in a warehouse just outside the capital of Colombia—with his fingertips and relays the information to Jai. Everything appears clear and ready for the taking, but Auggie isn't letting his guard down this time; this time no one on his team is getting shot or ambushed. Only the enemy will be taken by surprise.

"We have visual on Ignacio."

"Take him down, Jai. Bring him in." The anger in his voice betrays him.

"We'll get him, Auggie. I'll get him."

"Joan wants him alive, but. . ." He lets his statement trail off, telling Jai what he thinks of that order.

"He won't make it back to the States without a few bruises," Jai promises.

Auggie appreciates the gesture. Even if he and Jai don't always see eye to eye, they both care about Annie and will make sure the man who hired her would-be killer doesn't get away without a scratch.

After final confirmations, Jai and his team go radio silent. Auggie remains poised at his computer, ready to react if something goes wrong. This time, though, he has a feeling all will go according to plan.

Annie isn't sure she heard her boss correctly. "You want me to do what?"

"It's only for a few days."

Joan leads her to a tiny, claustrophobic room and switches on the light. The behemoth machine standing against the wall mocks her as it buzzes to life. Annie crosses her arms and gives her employer a not-so-subtle evil eye. Joan frowns at her body language, but continues telling Annie about her task.

"I assume you know how to work a copier?"

"I think I can handle it."

The snappy tone of her voice garners an even colder response from Joan.

"I know you're not happy with this assignment, Annie, but you wanted to do something at the Agency and this is where I need you."

"I'm a trained CIA field operative. Not a secretary."

Joan shakes her head once, exhaling in minor annoyance, though there is a slight smile on her lips.

"You are an agent recovering from a bullet wound. And you are a valuable asset to the Agency," Joan assures her without making it sound like praise. The hard edge is gone from her voice now.

"You sure have a way of showing it," the younger woman mumbles under her breath.

Joan ignores her words of malcontent and considers her a moment. "Annie, how long have you been here now?"

"Almost a year."

"And how long do you think you'll stay with us?"

Annie's never really thought about that question. "Until I'm not needed anymore."

It feels like the truth.

"A long time," Joan translates. "Do you see what I'm getting at?"

Annie nods.

"I have no doubt in my mind that you will be a top agent someday. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't look after one of the Agency's most promising agents. Understood?"

Annie nods again. She's pretty sure Joan slipped in a compliment there, and she'll take what little recognition she can get from the woman at this point.

Joan continues, saying, "I know you wanted to help bring down Ignacio's operation, but there will be a dozen other Lucas Ignacios during your assignment at the DPD."

"I understand."

"Good." Joan pivots in the small space and moves to leave. She stops at the copy room entrance. "Oh, and Annie?"

"Yeah?"

"Office gossips do talk. You're a spy. Try and be a little more covert next time?"

Once she's sure Joan is gone, Annie rams the palm of her hand onto her forehead. How to keep an misconstrued office hookup under wraps might be the most humiliating piece of advice a boss has ever given her.

Auggie smiles all the way down to the cafeteria. In less than ten minutes, Jai's team took down Lucas Ignacio's entire operation. More importantly, there were no casualties. The only injury was to Lucas himself—shot by Jai in the back of his leg when he tried running away from the warehouse. Auggie thinks it's an appropriate punishment for the coward.

Lucas' followers gave up the location of the weapons—which hadn't been shipped yet—without so much as a threat. Now every gun and round of ammunition destined for the hands of terrorists is in CIA custody.

He walks up to the deli counter, waiting his turn in line. He thinks he should share the good news with Annie right away. Besides, she could probably use a lunch break. Another tech told him about the copy room and Auggie feels bad that Annie's still too new to the department to know about all of Joan's tricks. He knows firsthand how terrible it is to be assigned to the copy room.

"Well what's got you so smiley today?" Alicia, the deli clerk, asks him when it's finally his turn.

"Pride is a powerful endorphin."

"And here I was hoping you were happy to see me."

Although he'd normally flirt back, he doesn't respond to her. He can't explain why he does it. He's known Alicia since before he lost his vision; he knows how beautiful she is. But something in him just doesn't want to play the game.

A little spurned, she asks, "What can I get for you?"

Auggie gives his order, being as polite as possible. Why is it that he doesn't want to act the player and be the office flirt? He still flirts with Annie, so why does it feel so wrong to do it with anyone else?

Alicia gives him his sandwich and rings him up without giving him his usual discount. Auggie doesn't take offense, and he still leaves her a generous tip in the jar on the counter. As he takes the elevator to his floor, he ponders the oxymoron: monogamous flirt.

"Work you stupid piece of junk!" Annie yells at the photocopier when the monitor reads "paper tray jam" again. It's the third time the message has been displayed in the past hour.

Annie slams the unjammed paper tray closed and punches the buttons with much more force than necessary.

"You're working him much too hard," Auggie says as he scans his way into the cramped room—though it would more properly be called a closet. The smell of grilled turkey floats in with him.

"You'd think the CIA could afford a copier manufactured after 1980."

"He's a veteran. A little respect might go a long way."

Annie huffs and reaches for Auggie's hand, then places it on a pile of miscellaneous files and papers as high as his chest.

"This pile goes straight to the floor."

Auggie smiles at her aggravated tone of voice. "Annie, relax. You don't have to finish it all today."

"Are you kidding? I don't want to be here forever. Joan's liable to keep me here until I die due to blood loss from paper cuts."

"This stack of papers will never get smaller."

"Oh yes it will."

"Your determination is admiring, but even if you manage to make a dent, it'll be filled by tomorrow."

"What are you saying?"

"Joan pulls old case files—ones that have long since been put on a computer database—and stacks them here."

"Why would she make me print copies of useless information?"

Auggie laughs softly and wraps an arm around her shoulders, taking care not to squeeze too hard and upset her healing bullet wound. The smell of turkey gets closer and Annie's stomach alerts her to the fact that she's starving with a low growl.

"This isn't a real job assignment, Annie. It's more or less a self-run therapy session."

"Come again?"

"Joan uses this copy room for its 'therapeutic qualities'. By making you do monotonous work, she's giving you time to reflect, to regroup, to heal."

Annie starts to follow him.

"Did she assign you here?"

"I made copies for almost two weeks straight. I probably made it through three of four of these piles. And, believe it or not, it helped. Has it helped you?"

Annie thinks about it for a minute and realizes that it really has made her reflect on her time in California. Having only the ancient copier to fight gave her a chance to evaluate her performance. It wasn't too pretty.

"I should have listened to my instincts out there," she admits, "Every part of me was saying the situation was wrong."

"Everyone second guesses themselves at times."

"I could've gotten myself killed. I almost did."

Auggie does squeeze her slightly now. "But, you're here."

Annie smiles with him, then decides they've had enough of the heavy discussions for the day. She reaches for the brown paper bag in Auggie's other hand.

"What's in here?"

"Turkey and bacon panini with lettuce, tomato and a little bit of mayo."

Annie looks at him, mouth slightly ajar, as he rattles off her favorite lunchtime indulgence.

"Is it for me?" she asks, even as he hands her the bag. "But, how did you. . ."

"After working with someone for a year, you get to know them pretty well. I thought you could use a little reprieve."

"You're a godsend," she says. Without any inner debate, she kisses him on the cheek, then pulls back a few inches from his face, wondering what his reaction will be.

Auggie reaches up to caress her cheek and keep her close. The tips of his fingers run along the skin where her attacker's blade cut her, but instead of finding an angry scab, he feels only a small bump.

"It's smooth," he says quietly.

That wasn't the response she was hoping for and it jars her out of her momentary daydream.

Annie pulls back from him fully and runs another folder of papers through the copier, even though she doesn't have to.

"I'm going back to my sister's tomorrow."

The announcement is delivered flatly and he can't get a read on her mood. Auggie knows he's not happy about her leaving so soon, but he doesn't know how to convey his feelings.

"Makes sense," he says because it does. She's been off on her Smithsonian trip long enough already. If she stays too much longer, her sister will have questions that Annie can't answer.

His indifference hits her harder than she expected. She didn't want him to beg her to stay with him or anything else so dramatic, but to not care at all—as though he invites women to stay at his apartment while they recover from battle wounds all the time—hurts. It hurts a lot.

"I'm sure you'll be glad to have your place to yourself again," she says quietly.

Auggie hears the sadness creep into her voice and tries to patch things up. He doesn't want her to feel like she's been a nuisance to his life; she's been the exact opposite—an enrichment.

"We should go out tonight. Celebrate your recovery."

Annie realizes she misjudged his first reaction. He is just as upset by her decision as she is. He was just looking at the situation rationally instead of emotionally.

"At Allen's?" she asks.

"I was thinking somewhere a little more upscale, if you're okay with that."

"I'd really like that," she says and means it. When her stomach growls, she adds, "But let's eat lunch first."

They sit on the floor, backs against the whirring copy machine, and split the sandwich.

It feels like rain. At the pace they're strolling along, Auggie knows that they'll get caught in it before they reach his apartment. The umbrella they left with that morning rests forgotten in his office. Still, he doesn't hurry Annie along.

Auggie leads for a change. They walk the few blocks back to his apartment because Annie doesn't trust herself to drive. She's not drunk, but she's too tipsy to be behind the wheel for the next few hours. Auggie guides them along easily, Annie's arm slung through his. He's acutely aware of how the side of her breast brushes up against his bicep. Her grapefruit perfume lingers on the fabric of his shirt and fills his nose every time he inhales.

They talk all the way home: about dinner, about the way their waitress wouldn't stop drooling over Auggie, about bringing Lucas down.

About a block before his apartment, it pours. Auggie tries to speed up so they don't get soaked, but Annie reins him back.

"I love the rain," she tells him.

She giggles and shakes her head back and forth, droplets of water flinging from her wet hair and splashing against his cheek. He can't remember the last time that he let himself enjoy the sensation of rain on his skin.

Annie sees the grin creep onto his face, sees the way his shoulders relax and his head tilt up to relish in the feeling of the water. She loves him when he's like this around her: the real Auggie. He's not coming up with witty comments or making light of his blindness as a defense mechanism. He's just August Anderson.

Seeing him like this reminds her of her impending departure, that she won't see him like this again until who knows when? That thought spurs her into action. Annie gives in to her urge—the one she's been fighting since last night—and kisses him.

Caught off guard, Auggie stumbles back into the wall of his apartment building, the contact knocking the breath out of him. She clings to the lapels of his cardigan and presses her mouth to his again. It's a gentle kiss at first, but it becomes more demanding when he responds to her. He rests his hand on her lower back and pulls her in closer.

He kisses her until they are both breathless, then moves his lips along her neck, down to her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, then back up to her lips. There is an urgency that blooms between them, a need that can't accurately be named, but they feel it consuming them from the inside out.

Her right hand lifts the hem of his drenched shirt, her fingers exploring the planes of his chest, counting his abs as she moves up. The fabric molds to her hand on his torso, and even though the rain is cold, his skin is hot against her fingers.

"We should go inside," Auggie suggests, voice gruff.

Annie nods her head against his chest, still trying to regulate her breathing.

The trip up to his apartment is a bumpy one because they can't keep their lips or hands off each other long enough to walk effectively. It doesn't help that one of them is blind and neither are completely sober. They'll both have bruises in the morning from running into walls and door handles on the way down the hall.

Once inside the apartment, the first article of clothing to go is Auggie's cardigan. Then his shirt. Auggie makes quick work of her blouse as well, capitalizing on the short moment their bodies are disconnected.

Their hands roam over each other's skin. Rivulets of water from their hair and wet clothes stream down their bodies. Annie loves how her hands glide over his skin, loves how his lips seem to know all the spots that make her knees give out.

They work on unzipping each other's pants, stepping out of them and into each other.

"Protection?" Annie asks, groaning as Auggie catches her earlobe between his teeth.

"Bedroom," he says, stepping in that direction.

In the bedroom, things slow down. Auggie removes his boxer briefs—there's no use trying to hide his erection—and puts on the condom. It's pretty clear why all the women are attracted to him, and it's not because he's a cute blind guy.

Annie cups the sides of his face while she kisses him again. He unclasps her bra and slowly lowers them to the bed. Then he breaks away from her and runs his hands up her legs until he reaches her underwear. He grips the fabric and tugs it down her hips, sliding them off completely and tossing them on the floor.

Auggie kneels on the bed in between her legs but doesn't make any move to enter her.

"What is it?" she asks. If he stops here, she doesn't know what she'll do.

"Close your eyes," he says, "Don't watch. Just feel."

Even though she wants to see everything, she does as he asks. "Okay."

Auggie leans down and brushes his lips over hers again, then kisses both of her closed eyelids. His fingers touch the insides of her wrists and follow her arms all the way up to her shoulders. He kisses each shoulder, then lets his hands precede his mouth down her center, between the swells of her breasts, down to her navel. He caresses the sides of her torso, his touch so light that Annie whimpers from the sensation.

No one—not even Ben—has ever touched her like Auggie is touching her now. The tenderness he's showing her makes her feel cherished, like he's memorizing her with his hands, creating a mold of her in his mind so he will never forget her. Even if she was capable of speech right now, she wouldn't have words to tell Auggie how he's making her feel.

After teasing the inside of her thighs and kissing the outline of her pelvic bone, he comes back up to her lips. She kisses him back with force, telling him that she wants him, that she's ready.

Auggie takes the hint. Starting at her lips, he trails a hand down the center of her body, then rotates his palm at the top of her pelvic bone until his fingers slide into her. Annie groans as her back arches into his touch. He adds another finger and the sensation is overwhelming. She grips the sheets at her sides and tries to control her panting.

He continues to stroke her, almost bringing her to climax. When her breathing comes as short rasps between her moans, Auggie removes his fingers and replaces them with himself.

Their combined cries and crescendoing moans fill the apartment until neither one of them can see, hear or think.

All they can do is feel.

The scent of lavender surrounds them.

Annie leans her head to the side so Auggie can kiss along her neck. Her back is pressed to his chest, her body resting between his legs. While he kisses her, Auggie dips the loofa into the bathwater, then scrubs up and down her arms gently. Annie traces circles into the skin of his thighs.

She keeps staring at the empty bottle of bath salts across from her, becoming more and more apprehensive as the water cools around them. She has to say something now, or whatever is between them might be lost when she leaves tomorrow.

"Auggie?"

"Hmm?" he hums, his mouth on her shoulder.

"I, uh, was wondering. . .I was wondering if you'd come to dinner at my sister's this Thursday."

He stops kissing her, but his free hand slips around her waist and his fingers splay over her stomach.

"You're inviting me home?" he asks. "That must mean something."

"I'm not sure what it means." She runs her fingernail over the top of the water in front of her, concentrating on making a figure eight pattern. "I just know I'd really like you to be there, with me."

"I'll accept on one condition."

"What?" She can hear the mischievous tone in his voice and wonders what he's up to.

"That after dinner, we have dessert in your room."

He turns her head to the side to capture her lips with his. There's no question in her mind as to what sort of dessert Auggie is talking about.

"I think that can be arranged," she answers when he lets her breathe. "But we'll have to be quiet."

"I'm not sure if that's possible. You were quite. . .vocal earlier."

He nibbles at the base of her ear, making her moan just to prove his point.

"You were pretty loud yourself," she responds, grinding into him with her backside until he groans and grips her sides so she'll stop.

"Point taken."

They sit quietly for a few minutes, soaking in the tub, afraid to let go of one another.

"Do you think we could make it work?" Annie asks quietly. She knows she doesn't have to specify what the 'it' is.

"Are you willing to go down that rabbit hole?" Auggie asks, voice lowered to match her volume.

"I don't think dating at the CIA is comparable to the challenges Alice faced in Wonderland."

"No? I thought it was a good analogy. It'll be a challenge."

"A fact Joan reminds me of often."

"I want to give us a chance," he says sincerely.

She doesn't hesitate. "Me too."

Soon the water is too cold for them to stay in the bathtub any longer. They get out and dry each other off. Annie takes the empty bottle of bath salts off of the tub shelf and tosses it into the trash.

"No more bath salts," she says a little wistfully.

"I'll have to buy you some more."

"Do I have to wait until I get shot again? It might be a while."

She laughs, but Auggie shakes his head, not wanting to be reminded of why he bought them for her in the first place. "Can we come up with a different occasion, please?"

She thinks for a moment. "My birthday's only two weeks away."

He likes that occasion much better. "Sounds like a plan."

"And Auggie?"

Her playful tone tells him she's smiling. "Yeah?"

"Can we make it massage oil this time?"

He grabs her and pulls her in for another kiss.

"Definite deal."

A/N: First, I want to address the sex scene. Ha. I know it may seem rushed (when all of you commended me on having them take things slow), but my rationalization is that spending that much time with someone (that you're already attracted to) would speed up the whole process. Add in the fact that Annie's going back to her sister's in the morning, plus a little alcohol to reduce inhibitions and there you go: Auggie/Annie sexy time. ;)

So, half-way through posting this story, I realized that I'll probably be doing some type of sequel. Don't hold me to it yet, because I've got other projects in the works, but I would like to continue this story. I'm just throwing it out there that it's a possibility. Anyone interested?

I've probably mentioned the angsty-romantic piece I have in the works, but I'm going to promote it some more. Why not? It's progressing nicely. Still, I'd like to be five or so chapters in before I start posting. I already have a Beta Reader for it, but if anyone's interested in letting me bounce ideas/plot bunnies off of them, let me know in a review or PM. I like having multiple opinions. :)

I'm going to take a week off from writing, but I'll be back on the 27th with a Halloween inspired oneshot that popped into my head earlier today.

Thank you for reading! Leave me a review with your final thoughts? I'd love it if you did! :)