A/N: You guys are so nice with reviews and reads. It made this one come really fast. And the next one is about halfway done. So glad these can be published in serial! Will our dynamic duo take down Henry Wilcox tonight for good this time? Probably not, then what would they do, but I digress...Enjoy!

Chapter 10

"The girl from the coffee shop?" Troy coughed as he choked on his swig of beer out of amazement at what Auggie had just told him.

"Yeah."

"She's really cute." He managed between wheezes.

"Uh, thanks for letting me in on that fact."

Troy took a drink of water to finally clear his throat. "I guess I just didn't think about it."

"Yeah, well, I need a little help scoping out the scenery these days. So help me."

"Yeah. No. Sorry." He tried the beer again. "So she came right up to your table, huh?"

Auggie nodded as he took a long pull on his own bottle. He and Troy were waiting for Brendan to join them at the bar for the Bears game on Sunday night.

"I mean, there are always girls looking at you," Troy added, realizing his brother may have wanted to know that, too.

"They ask me if I need help a lot; I'm putting that together now."

"You mean this has been going on for a while?"

Auggie nodded. "Pretty much every time I'm out."

"And you thought what?"

Auggie shrugged. "That they were feeling sorry for me? I don't know."

"You just now figured out that the cane is a total chick magnet?"

"You would say that," Auggie said, rolling his eyes at his brother.

"Uh, it obviously is." He remembered to ask what he really wanted to know. "How did it go?"

Auggie smiled satisfactorily. "I always performed certain tasks in the dark quite well, which gives me a distinct advantage these days."

"Yeah?" Troy ginned, slapping his brother on the shoulder. "Nicely done, August." He signaled a passing waitress. "Sweetheart, two shots of Patrón here!"

Auggie couldn't stop smiling. He and Elaina had spent a really enjoyable evening together, as well as the next morning. She'd kissed him softly on the way out the door and mentioned that she was leaving for Los Angeles the next week but would call him when she got back in town. She wasn't expecting a diamond ring and a picket fence, but what she'd given him in the way of building his confidence was immeasurable. A brand new dimension of this brand new life was opening in front of him. He was reaching forward with both hands to grab what was coming next, what was possible.

Distractedly he looked up as someone plunked the tequila beside his left hand. "Where's Brendan?"

"He had to stop at the drug store."

"Why?"

"I asked him to pick you up some condoms," Troy announced with a snort of laughter. "Can't have you come home from war and then get VD."

Auggie took a playful swing toward Troy which actually grazed his older brother's shoulder despite his attempt to duck out of the way

"You sure you can't see?" he inquired as he rubbed his arm.

"Yeah. Your reflexes suck. And you're drunk."

"Yeah, but you got laid!" Troy quickly forgot his wound in the light of this fact.

"A little louder, Troy," Auggie laughed. "I don't think they heard you at Soldier Field."

Elaina did call, and they did "hang out" a couple more times. Mostly they ended up in Auggie's bed. In the first week of November, she told him that she had finished her manuscript. It was off to New York and she was headed to Los Angeles for good. Or for next. She didn't seem to stay in one place for very long. Their goodbye was short and sweet, and he felt compelled to ask if she needed help moving. She laughed and patted his chest as she planted one final peck on his cheek.

It struck him that he didn't feel any of the sadness or loss that he had when Natasha left or when Helen… He didn't want to think about Helen. But somehow, it was these fleeting thoughts of her that spurred him on in his work. He'd amassed quite a cache of equipment for creating the tools of his previous trades. He'd started with some easy hacking – local databases, accessing traffic cameras and had moved up to attempting the VA servers by the end of his first week of serious work. He easily obtained access. He moved next to the systems he'd installed at the Pentagon; their firewalls fell effortlessly. He successfully gained access to two separate FBI servers before he turned his labors toward the CIA.

They proved a bit more difficult, but he found himself accessing some basic information before he hit snags he couldn't immediately circumnavigate. About three hours after he first began his day's work, he bought himself fifteen minutes of what had to be a level 7 or 8 clearance before he was shut out. Emboldened by his successes, he plowed through the increasing security measures added to the server over the next three days before he was sure he was back on his game.

Less than a week later, he became aware of what he would have previously called a "sixth sense" – the feeling that someone was watching him. He altered his daily routines as much as he could without appearing conspicuous and within the confines of his mobility. As he couldn't visually assess his surroundings, he relied heavily on the others to guide him. It was when he was shopping with Brendan for Christmas gifts at Macy's, he realized who and what he was dealing with.

"Auggie?" Brendan asked, as his brother had stopped in his tracks. "What is it?"

"I just smelled something that might be important." He hadn't let the family in on any of this, obviously.

"Where?" They were in the jewelry department with cosmetics just to their left.

Auggie retraced his previous steps. "Right back here." He stopped in front of the Chanel counter. "It's here."

A pretty, polished girl in a black tunic immediately arrived in front of them. "How may I help you, gentlemen?"

"I need to smell the perfume. One at a time."

"Certainly," she started. "This is our featured fragrance for the holidays, Coco Mademoiselle."

Auggie interrupted her with his hand lightly on her wrist. "I'm not interested in commentary. I just need to smell them, and you tell me what they're called, okay?"

Her eyes widened as she glanced quickly at Brendan who shrugged and shook his head. "Certainly, Sir." They made it through about five choices before she offered him a final one. "Our signature fragrance. The No. 5." She handed him the little card.

"That's it."

"What is?" Brendan asked, increasingly perplexed by his brother's increasingly erratic behavior, their mother's Fiestaware platter completely forgotten.

"Just a memory I couldn't place," Auggie covered. He hated playing the PTSD card, but he couldn't tell Brendan the truth. Not yet. He turned toward the nearly trembling shop girl. "I'm sorry. I'll take that one. A little bottle." She nodded and processed his order. Moments later he practically dragged Brendan out of the store.

"What is going on, Auggie?"

"I'm sorry, Bren. I just figured out something. I need to get back to my place. I can't really explain, but I have to go." He started walking before he realized he really didn't have an idea how to get out of this huge mall. "Can you help me find an exit so I can grab a cab?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll drive you."

"No, no. You have too much shopping to do." Auggie protested. He couldn't have Brendan walking into what he now knew was waiting for him at home. "I'll be fine. Really."

"Okay," Brendan finally conceded. "Call me later, though, okay."

"Sure, sure," Auggie promised distractedly as they approached a cab stand. He hopped in a waiting car, leaving Brendan scratching his head on the sidewalk.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived at his building. With the little package in hand, he climbed the stairs to his apartment. As he entered the third floor hallway, his pulse quickened. He tried to calm the flow of adrenaline throughout his body as he approached his door. He stopped in front of the apartment just short of placing the key in the door, keeping his head down as he spoke.

"Hey, Joan," he held out the bag with his left hand. "This is for you."

The tall blonde woman stepped forward and took his offering. "Let's go in, Auggie. We need to talk."

TBC