A/N: Helllooo, month and a half of no updates! I have a reasonable excuse, promise. Been one of those months. And now! I keep getting in my happy writing place, you know? Except the happy writing place feels a lot like the happy sleeping place, and when I'm already IN bed, I just pass out instead of write, about four sentences into whatever I'm writing. Which is really frustrating when you really like your Word. ;P Oh well. Today's is one of my favorite descriptive words, and honestly, my brain goes immediately to...here. So. (Okay, I wrote this A/N days ago and this is no longer today's Word, but seriously, I'm tired of restarting when I run out of time!)

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Nobody got me it for Christmas. Sad.

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Gambol

: to skip about in play : frisk, frolic

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Arms hooked over the fence, Annie glanced sidelong at Danielle, smirking a little. Her older sister looked absolutely terrified. It wasn't often that Dani looked like she was going to aneurysm and explode, and - okay, really, Annie couldn't blame her too much.

Katia and Chloe were two of five kids in the big square enclosure; riding on the big horses for the first time. One of the kids had already cried twice, one was clinging to her horse's neck - and her nieces were both in the middle, looking awesome as far as she was concerned. At least, neither of them had cried. Chloe looked a little wide-eyed, and Katia wasn't really paying enough attention to the others, but the lady standing in the center of it all with the long stick wasn't yelling at either of them.

"Don't you think Chloe's horse looks mean? He keeps putting his ears back." Dani fretted. "He's too hot. He shouldn't be -" The taller woman had been going on like that for most of the hour that they had been here, so far; like she knew all that much about horses. Sure, there had been the year or so that Danielle had dragged her with her every time she went to the barn...but horses were big. And messy. They smelled nice, and were sweet, but really; she hadn't ever had enough time to really appreciate it. As far as she could tell, the big spotted one on which her smiling niece rode looked friendly enough. He was relaxed, and wasn't trying to go as fast as Katia's, at least. She didn't point that out to her sister, though. Really, she wasn't insane. Quite.

Instead, she sighed, flopping a hand over to pat her panicking sibling's shoulder. "C'mon, Dani, seriously. He's the nicest one in the group. See how he keeps looking back around for more of those peppermints she brought? They're getting along fine." She soothed, and smiled a little when it seemed to work.

The rest of the class went much the same as the first part, with the kids doing unending circles and working on voodoo moves that Annie couldn't even begin to understand. Why would they want their horse's shoulders in? Hollow back, really? What did that even mean? The girls seemed to understand, at least, and they were doing better than a couple of the other kids. Annie smirked. Eventually, though, the class dispersed and the trainer led them all back into the barn to oversee the removing of the saddles and other equipment that they'd been dressed in. Danielle followed the group fretfully, but Annie hung back - she'd seen an even more interesting area in their prior tour, and now she eagerly paced across the crushed-gravel path and down a ways away from the main barn-area.

Her destination was easily reached: a field right next to the sandy one in which the girls had been riding. It only had a few horses in it, but next to several of those horses the ultimate in cuteness - foals! She knew they were called foals, and she knew that they were cute. Boy, were they. The adult horses grazed peacefully on the brown grass of a late Virginia winter, while the young ones gamboled around their heels. There were only two or three running around, but the rest of the adult horses were insanely fat - so she assumed they were pregnant, and due within...the next five minutes, if she had anything to say. Then, she wasn't exactly an expert in horses.

One was kind of a gold-y brown color, and the other was dark brown with lots of white. They chased each other back and forth between two trees, tiny little hooves thumping on the just-barely-dry ground. It had been raining for days, but up here the soil drained well. She knew that, at least. It made her feel a little bit less out-of-her-element; not that watching a few baby animals didn't do that pretty well in the first place. Absently picking at a loose fleck of paint on the wooden fence, she leaned against it, humming happily to herself.

It had taken - weeks - to get back to this. This easy contentment with life in general that came with a warm day and some much-needed time with her family. Almost a month, in fact, since she'd gotten back from Stockholm a changed person. Finally, she could look Katia and Chloe in the eyes without feeling tainted. Finally, she could accept that she had done the best that she could, and she'd made the right choice. The scent of gunpowder, when she went to the range, didn't sicken her much. Passing men with blond hair didn't make her shiver. She did still have nightmares, but they were the usual - 'what if'. Never mind that she'd always hated 'what if' with a fiery passion, her subconscious was great at it.

A shout dragged her from her musings, and she glanced over her shoulder, smiling at the reason for it; Katia had sprayed Chloe with the wash-hose. They were the only two girls who'd stayed to wash their own horses - though she didn't know much about them, she knew that that was a good thing. At least the horses looked happy to be being bathed, even if their washers were a little distracted. Nobody was yelling, anyways.

Sensing more time in the offing, she turned again to lean on the fence once more, watching the horses. The foals had ceased playing to stand next to their mothers, thin sides taking in great breaths as they rested. Planting her chin on her folded arms, she inhaled, herself, taking in the smell of damp grass and the shiny grey horse a few feet down the fenceline. It was better than stale office air, anyways, and definitely better than her room currently - seriously, how could one incident with an iron and saran wrap smell so awful? - so she took in all she could.

It had been years since she'd been the sort to lounge in the sunlight without doing something, though, so closing her eyes and soaking it up only lasted for a minute. Then she was clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, sticking her hand through the fence and wiggling her fingers in what she hoped was an enticing matter at the closest horse. The grey eyed her with surprisingly expressive eyes; she was pretty sure she'd just been told where she could stick her treat-less hand, but then again, she could have been hallucinating. "Aw, c'mon." Adding a few croons and kisses didn't really help - on the older horse's part, at least. One of the foals lifted its' head, giant ears flapping as it peered curiously at her, and she laughed. "C'mere, girl. Hey." She cooed, wiggling both hands as if that might help get the point across.

Apparently, it did. The darker of the two babies came over to the fence when its' mom's back was turned, approaching fearlessly, knock-kneed legs surprisingly steady as it stood and stared up at her doe-eyed. "Aw." The little horse lipped at her outstretched fingers, and she giggled, wiggling them and trailing them up its' fuzzy face. Neck outstretched as far as it would go, the foal reached up to nibble at her jacket's sleeve, nostrils flaring as it snorted baby snot all over the hoodie. Thankful that she'd thought to not wear anything really expensive, she tickled the underside of the dark little horse's chin. It flapped its' lips, at least, baring pink baby gums up at her.

"Oh, you're cute." There was nothing for it; she was smitten. Then, she was also smitten every time she came across a puppy, kitten, or infant, so...really, that wasn't surprising. At least she had enough dignity not to resort to baby-talk as she gave the little spotty fellow a good scratch around the ears, laughing at the funny faces it pulled. Eventually, the other one ambled over and she had to split her attention between both of them - they reveled in it, contorting so that she could get to odd spots like under one's elbow or the other's fuzzy mane. They acted like her cat, all but purring beneath her scritching and scratching. The spotty one had shaggy, floppy hair; it was dark, almost black, and reminded her strangely of Auggie's. Really, a human shouldn't have hair that resembles a horse's, should it? It was, though - coarse and shaggy and floppy. She laughed, ruffling the horse's fuzzy mane with a grin.

Five minutes later, she was still playing with the foals - when she glanced up from her new friends to see an older one ambling, as if summoned, up the gravel path. He moved confidently, cane swinging lazily, eyes closed and nose in the air like he was smelling something. Briefly concerned that she might be hallucinating Aug's presence, she blinked, not even resuming her fun with the foals when one nudged her hand hopefully. He was tanned and grinning, hair streaked from sun exposure, and seriously, should he be moving that fast if he wasn't a hallucination? Her friend's ground-eating stride brought him quickly up the path, and she only had time to cast a wild glance up it to her smirking sister before he froze abruptly, five feet away.

"Annie Walker!" If she hadn't known his ass, she might have believed the surprised exclamation. "Fancy meeting you here." Ah; there it was. The too-innocent smile stretched across his cheeks, boyish and mischievous, and she laughed; all half-formed plans of trying to fool him (as always) stopping cold. Instead, she abandoned her new friends, not really caring if her uncharacteristic display of happiness was or wasn't something she was technically supposed to be doing - she took a flying bounce and bear-hugged her friend. Apparently, the sentiment was returned, since after a tight hug her feet left the ground. She made an undignified squeaking noise as, briefly, she seemed to fly through the air. Only a little dizzy, Annie laughed, lightly punching his shoulder as she took an unsteady step back. "You're back!"

...okay, so, not so very smooth but seriously. She was off her game, here, not having expected Auggie back any time soon and definitely not that he'd track her down and find her in the middle of nowhere. "You're - in the middle of Virginia, Auggie!" Really, seriously, that was important to point out. He was a little lost, if he was trying to get home, because this place was an hour outside of DC and - well, that just wasn't very close to home. Aug's smirk could have won awards; honestly, the obnoxious asshat was too cocky for his own good. Why didn't her plots to knock him down a peg ever come to fruition? "Oh? Here I thought I was in Florida. Must'a taken a wrong turn around Vegas." He shot back at her, and, tempting as it was, she refrained from punching him again since she was pretty sure that the girls were watching and they were already precocious enough without copying that.

"Gag. Eyeroll." She instead huffed, wrinkling her nose, then shooting a death glare towards Danielle until she turned back around to watch her damn kids. Auggie absently folded up his cane, still smirking, and she did roll her eyes, this time. "Seriously, you don't like...have some sort of spooky tracker on me? Right? Stalker!" She drew the last word out several syllables longer than it should have been, and his smirk only grew; but seriously, did he think the innocent face worked when he was grinning like the wolf in sheep's clothing?

"If I told you -" She couldn't let him finish that; the cliche police might spring out of the shrubs and shoot both of them. "You wouldn't get decaf coffee for the rest of your life." She cut him off, instead, reveling in the shocked pouty lipwibble he pulled out. Just as quickly as it appeared, though, the wolfish grin was back; this time his eyebrows waggled, and he lowered his voice. "You gonna be around that long, Walker? Bring me coffee when I'm eighty?" He smirked. She winced. Hell. That was the question, wasn't it? Part of being a super spy is talking out of your tuckus, though - so without pause, she shot right back, never mind that her voice shook a little or that she kind of felt like going and hiding behind the foals that were still watching her hopefully. "Not if you don't spill, spider man."

His eyes narrowed marginally, but he grinned quickly, taking slow sidewards steps until he hit the fence. Leaning on it and picking at a flake of paint, he nodded back up the path at Danielle. "Danielle is very helpful." He beamed. She narrowed her eyes; strode back over and resumed her absentminded playing with the foals. Apparently, Aug could sense that she was about to do harm unto him, since he continued quickly enough. "I got home this morning. Got bored. Worried about - well, Joan said something, so I called your phone. You didn't answer, called your house phone, no answer. So I called Danielle!" He beamed beatifically, like that was a reasonable response to her not answering her phone. She could have been in the shower, or sleeping, or - "She said that you would be out here for a while and yes, it would be lovely if I would surprise you, and yes, she would drive me home because any friend of Annie's is a friend of hers!"

He paused, apparently waiting for her to respond; when she didn't, immediately, he beamed even more innocently and tilted his head. "She gives really great directions? Though, I hope she doesn't drive as -" The temptation was too great: automatically, she socked him on the arm, snorting loudly. "Do you really want to finish that sentence, Anderson?" Not bothering with his false innocence, she tried injecting as much venom as she could. As usual, it failed. Miserably. The techie waggled his eyebrows at her, sticking a hand through the fence rails and waving a hand in the air until she automatically steered the paler foal towards him.

"Well? Are you surprised?" He sounded so hopeful, uncharacteristically so, that she had to smile. A little. "Yeah, Aug. I'm surprised." Gruffly, she huffed, definitely not at all affected by the boyish beam that lit up his face. She really had to nip that in the bud; Auggie was an amazing friend, but seriously, the butterflies had no place. He'd just flown to Africa for a girl, and she really did hope that he'd found what he was looking for. Speaking of - "Well? How was it? Did she apoplexy on the spot when you showed up? Did you get mauled by gunmen?" She wondered aloud, watching him explore the little gold foal's face with both hands, then scratch expertly beneath its' jaw.

His smile died down a little as he did so, and he ducked his head, eyes going distant for just a moment. Then he was grinning again, not pausing his scratching of the baby horse; much to the little one's joy. "It was eye-opening. If you'll pardon the pun." She snorted. Did it ever stop? "She didn't apoplexy. She was happy to see me. No, I didn't get mauled by anybody. Do I look mauled?" He grinned rakishly, and she rolled her eyes once more. "Maybe by the sun. Are you supposed to look like a cherry?"

Honestly, she couldn't help it. Teasing him came naturally, and he responded with an easy grin, lifting a hand to run through his hair. "I happen to know that I tan nicely, Walker. I bet you turn the color of a tomato, though, don't you?" With perfect innocence, he ignored her huff of indignance, leaning on the fence - and for a moment looking as tired and jetlagged as he probably would. Exasperation and affection warred briefly for dominance in the front of her mind; in the end, affection won out. She bumped shoulders in a fortifying kind of fashion, watching as one of the mom horses called the babies and they went galumphing back over.

Lacking something to do with her hands, she planted both on the top rail again and set her chin on them again, tilting her head sideways to watch Auggie. He leaned on the rail, too, arms trailing over the other side in some sort of ungainly sprawl. It looked slightly ridiculous. The air changed subtly, his brow set, his jaw clenched; she frowned. Was he that tired? Did she need to go make Dani hurry Chloe and Katia up?

"Talked to my doc. There is this treatment, with stem cells. I wanted in. I might have been able to see. They've already done trials; the results are amazing. Kids can see again, or at least it stops - I thought maybe -" His lips pulled back into what might have been meant to be a grin but looked more like a pained grimace. "Not for me. Got turned down. Not suitable." That was news to her; had she been so wrapped up in her own problems? When had that happened? "Parker...you know, she has the greatest eyes? I remember them. They light up when she gets angry. One time, before we shipped out, she was visiting Billy and he made fun of her shoes. Thought she was going to tear off his nose and feed it to him." He laughed, but it was a hollow sound. It made Annie's skin crawl, honestly.

Auggie took a deep (steadying?) breath, and smiled again, wistful and...soft? Honestly, she couldn't categorize it, it wasn't an expression that her friend wore all that often. "I thought..." He mulled a moment, eyes more distant than usual, half-lidded and more sheepish than sleepy. "I don't know what I thought. Maybe that that was more important than it was."

That was all that was said for a while - and Annie let the silence stand, processing exactly what he had told her. She had, of course, followed the headlines about the controversial treatment. Why had it never once occurred to her that Auggie's blindness wasn't something that he had just accepted? That it wasn't part of who he had been for most of his life? Even that he might like to be able to see again? No; that wasn't entirely fair. She didn't often ponder his lack of sight. Auggie was Auggie, but...what would he have been like, even?

Well, it wasn't like she was going to know. Not with no hope for him recovering that - and, that being the case, there was no sense dwelling on it. "Auggie," She sighed, wrinkling her nose and pulling a face. She was going to have to inflate his overzealous ego. It wasn't something she relished. (That was a lie, but she'd never admit it to anybody. Ever.) "I can't speak for you, or for - anybody else but me, but for what it's worth, I think you do just fine. Eyes or no eyes." A beat, and she contemplated what would be just a little more upbeat. Eventually, she grinned, hipchecking him lightly. "At least you're not Jai."

Their rivalry wasn't exactly hush-hush; and she didn't at all consider it sneaky to put that out there. It got the desired effect, anyways, when his droopy sad eyes lit up and he perked up again, animated once more. "Did Joan seriously deck him last week? Stu swears she did." He exclaimed, head swinging vaguely to where Dani appeared to be calling them, down the fenceline. Automatically taking his extended elbow, Annie smiled, falling in step with the techie and huffing a bark of laughter. "No, she did not deck him. You know that's illegal, right?" Actually, she'd heard the same rumor, but the rumor mill also said that the decking had been followed by wild monkey sex, so honestly, what were the odds? Plus, ew. Just ew. Undaunted, Auggie gave what could only be described as a cackle, all but bouncing as he dragged her back up the gravel path. So much for her leading.

"Aw, c'mon, where's your imagination? The building is crawling with a couple thousand spooks, Annie! You couldn't pin down the truth with a pitchfork and a stick of dynamite." He exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his free hand. Unable to resist the giggle that that brought, she didn't even try, undignified as the half-squawk she blurted was. Aug didn't seem to mind, but somehow she was almost ninety percent sure that he had the James Bond theme going in his head.

Men.