Carly held her breath as she watched Andrew storm into his office. She'd noticed he'd returned from his trip, which ended up lasting nearly a week longer than expected, when she had gotten in that morning, but he had been in meetings in another building all day. She got up and looked through the doorway cautiously.
Andrew threw his coat on a short file cabinet frustratedly. He clawed at his tie, practically ripping it off when it was loose enough. He struggled with the buttons on his shirt, but finally got the top two undone.
"Bad morning?" Carly asked softly.
"Bad doesn't even begin to describe it," he snorted. She went over to him and touched his shoulder. He didn't even notice. "I can't believe the stupidity of some of the people around here!" He took a few steps and then turned to face her. "I spent half the morning hearing about how I don't know what's going on in the world by a bunch of dumbass college boys who spent their careers riding desks! Oh, the best one was when they told me I don't know what I'm doing and they know better how to deal with terrorists. Me, who's spent nearly half my life in the field fighting terrorists. Me, who gave up my wife, my family, my whole fucking life to fight terrorists while they schmoozed the suits. And I'm the one who doesn't know what I'm doing!"
She sighed. She knew who'd spoken up. Good ol' Mr. Sticky Hands would be the few around here to be that egotistical. "Braden?"
"Who else would have the nerve to say something like that to me?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "I have worked damn hard to get where I am and I am damn good at my job. I am in charge of counter-terrorism for a reason. And it isn't because I know how to bullshit."
"I know. And I know you'll prove that to them."
The look in his eyes changed from anger to that of a hurt little boy. Andrew suddenly pulled Carly into his arms and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to just unload on you like that."
She chuckled and pulled back far enough to kiss him tenderly. "It's okay."
He kissed her again, much more passionately this time. "I missed you, baby."
"I missed you too." He sat on the edge of his desk, pulling her with him. "Let me make it up to you. How 'bout I take you and Michael out to dinner tonight?"
"Alright," she agreed, sighing as if it was a sacrifice. "But no video games. I don't want you two boys ditching me again."
Andrew pouted, hiding a smile. "Yes, ma'am." He released her and walked around the desk. He slumped down in his chair and sighed. "Anything that absolutely needs my attention or can we sneak out for the rest of the day?"
"I put everything that needs your signature in the folder that's covering your keyboard and Faith's been calling for you. She says if you don't call her back this second, she's going to come down here, hog tie you and force you to listen to Loretta Lynn."
He let out an exaggerated laugh. "I'd like to see her try!"
Carly put a hand on her hip. "I'm sure that can be arranged," she told him with a smirk, knowing the cheery Texan would do it just to aggravate him. "I'll be happy to call her and let her know."
Andrew sighed in defeat. "Okay, okay. I'm calling her."
"And you have a nice, fat folder of op reports to go through, plus a conference call with Langley in an hour."
"Oh joy," he groaned. "Put Ross and Langdon on the call. Files are in the lockbox. I am really not in the mood to deal with a bunch of CIA yahoos right now."
"I'll let them know."
He flipped through the files as she walked out of his office. She was barely outside the doorway when he called her name. "What's up with all the training materials?" he asked in confusion.
Her heart jumped in her throat. She couldn't tell him truth. Hopefully he'd buy the only excuse she could give him. "I thought it would help if I knew how things around here worked," she lied.
"Help? How?" he asked, suddenly sounding skeptical.
She could no longer read his expression. His face was like stone. Cold, emotionless, an expression she'd seen several times in meetings. It was like a mask, a defense mechanism, covering his real thoughts. Tool of the trade, he'd once said. She licked her lips and took a deep breath before answering. "Well, some of the paperwork gets so technical and I usually don't have much clue what it says. I just thought I could assist you better if I knew what all of it was."
"And you think you're going to get all that knowledge through bits and pieces of training?"
She smiled, hoping he wasn't seeing through her. "Well, yeah. You've got way too much to do to hold my hand and most of it I can do on my own time..."
Andrew cut her off. "Okay. If that's what you want." He signed the forms and handed them back to her. "Happy hunting," he said cryptically.
What a strange response, Carly thought. "Thank you," she replied unsurely, going back to her own work, wondering if she'd blown her plan already.
~*~
Carly drove slowly through the streets and admired the manicured lawns of the much nicer houses of the secured zone, the houses reserved for the upper echelon of the WSB. Security was unlike anything she'd seen outside of the building she worked in. Heavily armed guards stood around the gates and on towers scattered between the two security retaining walls. Just to get through the gate, fingerprints were taken from both her and Michael and run through the databases before the guards called Andrew to verify they were his guests. The neighborhood itself was something out of a movie. It was perfect, almost too perfect. She half expected the Cleavers or the Bradys to come running out of one of the houses. Or the robot women from the Stepford Wives.
Michael was telling her about the joke one of the other boys in his class played on their teacher, but her mind drifted to the mansions that sat in the heart of the secured zone. They rose above the other houses, it was hard to miss them.
She had always wanted the big house, the rich man, the fancy cars. Part of her still wanted it. She'd had those things, with Sonny and AJ, but none of it had made her any happy. She'd learned that lesson the hard way. No house could replace what she'd lost, what her child was losing out on, because of her choices.
She tried to shake the thoughts from her head and focus on Michael's story. He was all she had, all she needed.
"Mom, are you listening to me?"
She smiled, trying to cover being caught not entirely paying attention. "Of course, sweetie."
"You didn't look like it," he said sadly, glancing out the window.
Her heart broke at the sad look on his face. "I'm sorry, Michael. I guess I just spaced out for a moment."
"Okay."
The boy sounded anything but okay. She sighed. "Finish your story, sweetie. What did Miss Morris say?"
"Not much. She dragged Sergei to the principal's office. Tommy said she yelled at him pretty bad..."
He continued to talk as they pulled into Andrew's drive. The house was fairly small considering, the backyard stopping against the inside security wall. It was nondescript, like most every other house on the block. A few bushes in the front, no flowers or anything personal. It was just a house, not a home. Just someplace he lived, a roof over his head. He hadn't told her a whole lot about his life in the field, but from what she'd gathered through her job, that was probably exactly the way he viewed it. He wasn't one to dwell on the material things most of the time.
"This isn't very homey," Michael commented, echoing her thoughts. "I guess this is why he always comes to our house."
"But in a weird way it is very Andrew."
Andrew stepped outside as Carly and Michael got out of the car. He was wearing an apron that was covered with red sauce and whatever else. "Welcome to Casa WSB," he said jokingly.
Carly smiled. "Casa WSB, that's cute." She kissed him lightly, then stepped back and took a good look at him. "What's up with..." she trailed off, gesturing to his dirty clothes.
He smiled. "I made dinner."
"You made dinner?"
"I told you I could cook," he said, leading them into the house. "I made lasagna."
The entryway was small, opening directly into a formal living room. A very sparse formal living room. There was furniture, but not a single picture, like his office. The room looked like it had never been touched.
A dining room was off one side of the room, looking as impersonal as the living room. Between the two rooms was a doorway, leading into one large room. The kitchen, a dining area, a small bar, and a family room were all in the one open floorplan area, with a stairway to the second floor. Carly smiled faintly. Now this part of the house looked lived in. Files were piled in several places, including on the floor along the floor-to-ceiling windows behind the table; classic rock blasted from the stereo; the kitchen counters were a mess; pillows and a blanket were still on the couch, as if he'd been sleeping there.
The second Michael spotted the TV, he ran right for it. "Oh cool!" he cried. "He has a big screen, Mom!"
"Sorry, the place is such a mess," Andrew said embarrassedly. "I meant to get it cleaned up before you got here and I just left the office too late..."
"The other two rooms were so clean, I was beginning to wonder if you lived at the office," she said, still looking around. She picked up the pillows from the sofa and set them on the floor. "Sleeping on the couch?"
"I was trying to get those reports ready for the trip, I had everything spread out on the table, it was just easier to sleep down here. You want a glass of wine?"
"Sure."
"He has a Playstation, Mom!" Michael told his mother excitedly, drawing her attention away. He turned on the system and the opening screen for the boy's favorite game came up. "Look, he even has the same games!"
Carly stifled a laugh and looked at Andrew knowingly. "Just couldn't let him win, could you?"
Andrew looked down in mock shame, hiding his smile. "He kept kicking my butt all over the place, I just wanted to be a little competitive," he said, handing her a glass.
She shook her head gently and took a sip of the wine. "You bought an expensive game system and a bunch of games just to beat a nine year old."
"When you put it that way..."
She touched his face and kissed him tenderly. "That's sweet," she said softly.
"Sweet?"
"Well, I was going between that and immature. I thought I'd give you the benefit of the doubt."
"Gee, thanks."
Carly continued to look around the room. Although there were a few decorative pictures hung, there was hardly anything personal anywhere, almost like a hotel room. In fact, the only personal picture out was one of her and Michael that sat on an empty shelf. "No pictures of the girls?" she asked quietly.
All amusement disappeared from his face. "I have a few in a box that I haven't gotten around to unpacking yet."
"None in your wallet either."
He shook his head. "Never kept any with me."
The idea of not having pictures of one's children was beyond her. Although her pictures of Michael, especially when he was young, were limited, she couldn't imagine keeping them anywhere but close to her heart. "Why?"
"I was always afraid of getting caught and someone going after them, so I put the pictures in storage as soon as I got them."
"Must've made you sad not to at least be able to look at your daughters' pictures while you were away."
He shrugged. "I guess," he said, feigning indifference.
Carly knew better. She could see it in his eyes, see how much it hurt. "You're avoiding unpacking that box, aren't you?"
Andrew smiled. Ignoring her question, he changed the subject. "I think dinner's almost ready."
~*~
Dinner was nice, but uneventful. It wasn't the gourmet meals Carly was used to with Sonny, but Andrew's lasagna was indeed good. He cheated a bit with desert by buying ice cream, something she had joked she'd never forgive him for. Afterwards, she and Andrew had gone outside and sat on the steps of the back porch, while Michael chose to stay inside and watch TV.
"Beautiful view, huh?" he joked.
The view wasn't much. The inner security wall was high, over twelve foot tall, and the top was covered by two loops of electrified barbed wire. Basically the only things that could be seen were a few roofs close by and the sky.
"Of course!" she replied, chuckling. "As long as you look above the wall and the barbed wire." She sipped her glass of wine. "It's such a lovely night."
"No arguments here."
Andrew wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing her temple. She laid her head on his shoulder. They sat like that for a long time, just staring at the stars and enjoying each other's company.
"I wish I could stay like this forever," she said finally.
"That would be very nice," he murmured.
"You know what you need out here?"
"What?"
"A swing," she told him. "A swing would be perfect on a night like this."
"You're right, it would be," he agreed with a nod. "I'll have to get one."
Carly smiled. "You do that." She leaned up and brushed her lips against his. He gazed into her eyes momentarily before capturing her lips again in a passionate kiss. He stroked her hair and his hand came to rest at the nape of her neck, gently holding her head close.
God, this moment all she wanted was to throw herself at him, get wrapped up in this kiss. He made her feel so wonderful, in a way she never thought possible. It wasn't confining, she didn't feel like she had to be anything other than herself with him. He never talked down to her, never sent her to her room, never treated her like a whore or an incubator. She wasn't a burden or someone to just be tolerated. She was just Caroline and he wanted her.
No, she told herself. She had promised herself she would take it slow this time. Not only did she have Michael to think about, she had her heart to consider. The last thing she wanted was another broken heart.
She pulled away reluctantly. "It's getting late. I should get Michael home."
He smiled disappointedly as she stood and stepped closer to the door. "Alright," he whispered. "I enjoyed the evening."
She leaned down and kissed him quickly, one more time. "I did too." She glanced back at the house. "And I think it's safe to say Michael has enjoyed your TV."
He chuckled. "I knew that big screen would come in handy one day."
"My son is quite impressed with it."
"My work here is done," he said in mock satisfaction.
"Now I see, you're dating me for my kid," she teased.
He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "No, but he's a nice part of the package."
Carly couldn't hold back a faint smile. She turned around in his arms. "I'm glad you see it that way."
"Why wouldn't I? He's a great kid."
"Most of the men I've met since my divorce weren't interested in a kid."
He smiled, brushing hair away from face. "I'm not most men."
"Good." Carly kissed him lightly again and went inside.