Another glimpse into the life of Annie and Auggie. Inspired by a couple of lines uttered by Christopher Gorham in the movie 'My Girlfriend's Boyfriend'. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

I don't consider this one of my better works, but it's far from my worst.

I still don't own Annie or Auggie, nor Covert Affairs. I do now own two more autographed photos of Christopher Gorham from scenes in Covert Affairs. sigh

Auggie opened the door to the condominium building where he now lived with Annie. It still felt strange coming home to this place. Body memory hadn't been formed yet and he still had to really concentrate on the sensations being telegraphed to him by the tip of his cane, and the sounds around him. It was late and the only sounds in the foyer were the hum of the florescent lights in the ceiling and the echoes his cane made on the terrazzo floor. Angling slightly left of center he listened for the sound shadow that would be the elevator door. The tip of his cane found the metal door of the elevator and he stepped up to it. Reaching to the right his fingers landed directly on the call button panel. Almost as soon as he'd pushed the button, the door to the elevator opened. Wearily he entered and pushed the button for the fifth floor.

Five minutes later he was leaning against the closed door to his and Annie's apartment, pulling at his tie. It had been a long day – a physically and emotionally draining day. Somehow a simple mission had gone Tango Uniform and they'd almost lost an agent and her asset. It had been harrowing for a few hours, but everyone was okay. No covers had been blown, no asset lost – so it had been a good result in the end. And, Annie was nowhere close to the danger. She was, he hoped, sound asleep in their bed.

As unfamiliar as he was with the route from building's front door to his condo unit, Auggie was familiar with the route from his own front door to the kitchen. He wanted a shot or two of Patron before he stumbled off to bed. With tie undone and draped over his shoulders he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, then, with both arms extended before him in protective configuration of right at chest height and left slightly below his waist, Auggie walked as quietly as he could toward the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he had no trouble at all in locating the lower cabinet where the liquor was kept.

After grabbing a rocks glass from the upper cupboard and setting it on the countertop, Auggie squatted down and examined the bottles in the liquor cabinet. A few moments later he stood with the familiarly shaped bottle with the two wide rubber bands around the body of it in his hand. He sloshed the contents of the bottle of Patron Silver to judge how much was left in it. He unscrewed the cap and poured the contents into the tumbler, judging the level of the potent liquid by hooking his index finger over the rim of the glass. Auggie sighed deeply with disappointment when the amount left in the bottle didn't reached his finger as he poured. After setting the now empty bottle back on the counter, he picked up the glass and walked a very familiar path between kitchen and his usual seat in the living room.

He sank heavily onto the sofa, and, without bothering to take his shoes off – an act that would normally get a scolding from his wife – stretched his legs out and rested his feet on the coffee table. After taking a sip of his Patron, Auggie tilted his head back onto the back cushion of the sofa. The faint sounds of his home filled his ears – the soft hum of the refrigerator; the ticking of the grandfather's clock on the wall behind him and to his right; the faint drip of the bathroom faucet. Lifting the glass and his head at the same time he took another sip of tequila and relished the gentle burn as it slid down his throat. As soon as that sip was gone he quickly took another, then tilted his head back again and rolled his shoulders to work the tension from them. Auggie hadn't relaxed for long when the seat cushion beside him depressed and a warm form cuddled into his side.

"Rough day?" Annie quietly asked as she lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders so she could snuggle closer.

"Yeah," Auggie replied softly. "We almost lost Jeffers this evening."

"Lost? … As in killed?"

"Possibly. It was too close for comfort, but she's on her way back with her burned asset. Got a bit too hairy there for a while." Auggie took another sip of tequila.

"Everyone's okay now though?" Annie asked with a touch of concern.

"Yeah. I stayed in her ear until they got on the plane home. It was almost like when you were in Argentina, but the local police were not involved and we didn't have to call in the cavalry."

"Really? I was almost positive we weren't going to get out of there in one piece. Have I told you thanks for all you did for me that day?"

"Only about a dozen times," Auggie replied and took one last sip of his Patron. "But you can tell me again."

Annie took the glass from her husband's hand and stretched across him and placed it on the end table. Then she tossed a leg over Auggie's thighs so she was nearly straddling him and planted a kiss on his lips. "Thanks," she whispered with her lips just millimeters above his, "for taking a job that you didn't really want to save my ass. That you would do that for me …"

"I had to save the best friend I had didn't I?" he replied wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Silk?" he asked fingering the fabric of Annie's nightshirt.

"Yes. To both questions." She nuzzled his ear then pulled back. "Auggie, has there ever been anything you've been totally sure of? I mean totally one hundred percent sure of without any doubt."

"A few things. I was sure that if I ever ran across Nassir I'd kill him. That I didn't when I had him in my hands is a tribute to your persuasive powers. I was sure that the moment I met you that I wanted to get to know you. You had me hooked when you asked about the headphones rather than my blindness. Then when you mentioned that you liked jazz and Charles Mingus, too, I knew I wanted to get to know you better. The better friends we became I slowly came to the conclusion that I'd never met anyone like you. Ever. Everything with you was better than anything without you. Being with you made me better. The minute I met you, something in me changed. You changed me. I tried to deny it and the feelings that I had for you. Then … then I didn't want to deny them anymore; but there was also this tiny part of me that wanted to hold back. I wasn't sure that you'd want to be with me that way. Really be with me. But eventually I was sure about you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I have never been as happy as I am when I'm with you. I've never been as whole or as complete as I am when I'm with you. I was never whole or complete until I met you. From the beginning, I felt whole when I was with you. My blindness never seemed to faze you; you saw past the broken eyes and cane."

"It was easy to see past the cane and broken eyes, I knew you were comfortable in who you were right from the start. Being blind didn't matter to you so why should it matter to me? Even on those rare occasions when you doubted yourself, everyone else around you knew that it would be okay; that what you were doing was the right thing to do."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Believing in me."

"Believe me, I believe in you. Now I believe that you need to come to bed with me. And, well … not sleep."

Yeah, kinda fluffy.