Shift
"Edinburgh is officially a go, Jim will be heading the team there for the next four weeks to make sure the initial phase goes smoothly. Also, Michael called from Johannesburg last night; I told him you'd return his call today when your time zones coincided. And don't forget you have a debriefing with the DCI on Venezuela in two hours at Langley, even though I told them it was entirely unnecessary... Ryan, are you listening?"
Caitlin Cook, in her Gucci suit, taps a toe impatiently and crosses her arms as she eyes Ryan from where she stands across the room dictating his schedule for the day. He's in the middle of finishing an email, and over the years he's learned to listen selectively to what she tells him. Because of this he misses the laser like way her eyes are currently trying to bore holes into his head. If it had been anyone else they would have felt her "wrath" by now, as elegantly coined by Dex.
"To every word." He promises, never once looking up from his computer, much to her chagrin. "My contact at the Russian embassy in Paris wants to meet, by the way." He adds the last bit as an afterthought, appearing entirely disinterested.
Caitlin's tune changes quick. She goes from irritated to impressed in a snap.
"I thought surely that would've been a bust, especially given the situation in Ukraine." She muses.
"Ye of little faith." Ryan teases, standing up and grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair.
"Faith in you? Always." Caitlin corrects him. "In the Russians? Never."
As cut and dry as the woman could be, Caitlin Cook's merits outnumber her flaws in Ryan's eyes. Her loyalty to him, and to the company, is one of them. Despite her reputation for being iron fisted when it came to company policy, it's her cut-throat, no-nonsense way of doing business that makes her valuable. Ryan counts on her to make the tough calls when he can't, and she's yet to fail him, here at McQuaid Security or otherwise. For that he can forgive her often times brash, insensitive nature, because he knows better than to believe that's all there is.
"You'll arrange a jet then?" Ryan asks, donning his jacket and adjusting his tie.
Caitlin doesn't respond. She's already scrolling across the surface of her work tablet with her finger, undoubtedly searching the available McQuaid Security manifests for the first flight to Paris.
Unsurprisingly the DCI is unavailable for their scheduled debriefing when Ryan arrives at Langley. He can count on one hand the number of times he's met the man in person, so needless to say he isn't surprised. He spends the next two hours in the company of his Deputy Director instead, an older gentleman with a deep voice and a firm handshake. They spend less time talking about what happened in Venezuela and more time swapping squid stories from their respective days at the Naval academy, and debating on whether or not the Nationals had a chance at winning the world series this year.
Ryan perhaps wins the Deputy Director over too well, and he begins to think he'll never escape the conversation, all the while wondering if this is some sort of cruel joke on the DCI's part for Ryan declining a contract offer several months ago.
His mind is on Russia, and the Russian helicopters he plans on acquiring, and he all but races out of the building once he's excused.
It's spotting Annie Walker in the main hallway that stops him in his tracks, and he immediately remembers having seen her the night before, and before he can stop himself he calls out to her - an involuntary reaction.
"I saw a woman who looked exactly like you at the gala."
She freezes, obviously surprised to see him there, and it amuses him to have caught her completely unaware. She narrows her eyes at him, quirking her head to the side and feigning confusion.
"Clearly someone had too much champagne last night." Annie counters.
Ryan decides there's no time like the present, and continues his attempts to persuade her into eating a meal with him. He tells himself that he'll win her over with his persistence. Eventually.
"Breakfast?"
"It's noon."
"Well, lunch works for me."
"Maybe some other time... I have to go see a friend."
Annie steps closer and Ryan does too, closing the gap between them. That's when he notices something he hadn't been close enough to see the night before, the tell-tale signs of makeup covering the angry bruising along her forehead. A slow burn starts in his chest, a mixture of worry and concern that he has to fight to keep off his face.
"How did the rest of your evening turn out?" He asks quietly.
At first she can't answer him. There's a vulnerability on her face that he's never seen before. He resists the urge to reach out and touch her.
"Thanks for the gun." Annie murmurs.
"You already thanked me..." Ryan states, dubious, brows furrowed.
"Yeah, but I feel like a little extra gratitude is deserved." She crosses her arms, uncomfortable.
Annie's anything but subtle, and the feeling in his chest increases ten fold as he begins to draw his own conclusions. In that instant he wants to ask her a thousand questions, and a thousand different scenarios of what might have happened race through his thoughts at break neck speed. He has to keep his own feelings in check, because if someone had intentionally targeted her, if someone had hurt her...
"Are you ok?"
Her response to his question is the same brilliant smile that won him over from the beginning. He's noticed that when she smiles like that, there's an undeniable glow about her, and the way she looks at him changes. She changes, and this time Ryan is the one caught off guard.
"Love what you do and you never work a day in your life."
Ryan hears echoes of his own voice in her words, and he can't help but smile back at her. Before he can say anything else Annie spins and walks off in the opposite direction, calling over her shoulder.
"I'll see you around McQuaid."
It takes Ryan a minute to regain his bearings as he watches her leave. As he makes his way out of the building he begins to refocus on his upcoming trip and the Russian acquisitions he'll be attempting to make. But try as he might, his mind continues to wander back to Annie, and what she had said. It doesn't take long for him to realize why.
In that moment Annie Walker was different. In that moment her eyes were brighter and her presence lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
She was happy.
Later that evening Ryan has Fitz and Dex meet him at his house to discuss the new Jo'burg contract he secured during the phone call he made after leaving Langley.
He wants to make sure they're on the same page before he sets them loose in South Africa, and before he leaves for Paris. The comfort of his home is at least a pause outside the insanity of the office that he spends his days living in.
Dex excuses himself a little early because his little girl has a school play, and Ryan let's him because it'll be weeks before he sees her again. Dex might be the youngest and most hard headed of Ryan's core group of personnel, but he is also the toughest, hardest working son of a bitch to ever hit the ground at McQuaid Security. Two tours in Afghanistan and two years in special forces are what landed him here.
He got the job because he's a soldier, but also because he's a father determined to give his daughter the best life possible. For that he has Ryan's respect, and in some ways his envy.
Everyone needs something to live for.
"You sure you'll be able to live without us for a couple weeks?" Fitz says later, kicked back on a patio chair, enjoying the view from the deck that overlooks the spacious wooded area behind the house.
"I've done it before, I'm sure I'll manage." Ryan says wryly, chasing the comment with a swig of beer. He sets a now empty bottle next to an empty bourbon glass on the small table beside him and leans up against the sliding glass door of the house.
For a little while life is simple. They're two old friends solving the worlds problems (and maybe their own) over beer and bourbon.
"If you did need anything, you could just call your buddy, Walker." Fitz waggles his eyes at Ryan, refraining from resorting to a full blown laugh as he does so.
"She'd be better company than you." Ryan quips back.
Fitz throws his Yankees hat at Ryan and misses by a mile as it goes careening into the dark yard below the deck. When Fitz stands to retrieve his hat, he faux punches Ryan in the shoulder as he passes. In moments like this there's certainly no brotherly love lost between them, and he's thankful for that.
"In all seriousness," Fitz pauses at the top of the stairs, "I think she's good for you, McQuaid."
Ryan hesitates, but not for long.
"I think you're right."
AN: Fitz is like the voice of reason, haha. Anyways, I love the little world I've created for Fitz & Co. So, like I mentioned, we'll see more of them for sure. Also, I felt like Caitlin was so underused/cliche on the show. I want to try and make her more believable here, as a human. Ryan respects her, despite her ill temper, and at some point she pulled him out of a dark place, so I'll touch on that. There was a lot I tried to accomplish with this chapter emotionally. In my head I have a picture of the man I think Ryan is, and I hope I conveyed that here. Shout out to Anon, who mentioned it can take 10 seconds to develop a character if it's done right. I hope this chapter makes the impact I wanted and hope y'all enjoy it. xoxo
PS: also thanks for the great reviews y'all, truly, and the discussion on tumblr/twitter/otherwise - I really enjoy it, and I'm glad there are other crazy people out there invested in these fictional characters like I am, lol. Cheers!