Porter Webb listened as the familiar sound of a car drove into the driveway. She didn't have to ask Harrison, whose it was. She knew the sound quite well.

The front door opened and shut with the sound of muffled shuffling and shifting. She smiled as her son walked in the door, "I see you remembered to pay your mother a visit then." She teased.

Clayton smiled softly and approached her with his hands behind his back. "I see you waited."

The smiled was returned as it was obvious which parent he had gotten his charm from. "It's good to see you so soon, Clayton, I actually expected you to come later for riding."

"I was in a bit of a hurry this morning actually."

"Oh, I don't think it was to ride though, was it?" Mother knows all; this is the rule of the universe…sometimes.

"As much as I'd like to think so, no, it wasn't. I've been given a bodyguard by the Company not too long ago." The spy closed his eyes and sighed, "Unfortunately, she doesn't get Sundays off much less many other days."

The front door was opened just as the engine sound of another car was heard. "I'm guessing that's your bodyguard then?" Porter commented hearing the commotion.

The man faced the door and waited for the familiar face to appear. "I'm sure it is."

Porter heard the door open before she saw it. In walked in a six-foot-one inch woman with short cut hair and combat boots, she hadn't exactly expected a female. Harrison quickly followed behind; his hair messed with and out of place. "I apologize, Miss, she would not identify herself. I attempted to stop her but…"

"She came in anyway," Webb finished with a slight drawl of annoyance.

Harrison nodded as he was lightly dismissed with a wave of Porter's hand. "Well, Darling, I see you let yourself in."

Mute remained as stoic as possible in the face of the older woman. "I know that most bodyguards are not allowed to speak unless spoken to. Darling, answer me this, when you're told to take the day off, why do you not take it?" Porter's smile was soft and kind if not aged and wise.

Mute being Mute did her trade mark blinking fiasco as she expected Webb to explain. Being on time the spy finally intervened, "Mother, I apologize for not telling you this earlier, she doesn't speak."

"Doesn't or does not want to?"

"Doesn't, cannot and I never said I tried to get her to take the day off."

"Well, it practically speaks for itself, Clayton; you were in a hurry this morning to explain to her not to show up."

Mute lifted her brows and looked to the side silently. "Oh, how rude of me, I did not ask for a name to call you." Porter turned to her son for the answer.

Webb took a breath before speaking, she wasn't going to like the name given, and he just knew it. "We call her Mute, that's her nickname and what we're supposed to call her."

For a moment a look crossed Porter Webb's face that looked similar to disgust. "What a horrid name to call someone. Mute, it accentuates her lack of voice, it is almost demeaning. What about the name she was born with Clayton, can you not call her by that one?"

Mute hid a smile as she watched the spy she had come to know struggle. Oh, this was going to be good. "Well, I don't really know the name she was born with. They blacked it out on the file they gave me on her."

"You don't know it, no one knows it?"

"Not anyone that I would know of knows it. About the only person, actually, would be her." He gestured to the tall woman as she attempted to remain as stoic as ever.

Porter sighed, "Miss Mute, would you please give me another name besides the one you're referred to as such."

Mute looked to the side for a moment, contemplating Mrs. Webb's proposition. She liked the woman so far and as it would seem, she did not like calling her Mute. She guessed that it wouldn't hurt to have a second name reserved for the woman.

Mute walked over and gestured to be handed a pen and pencil. For a moment she thought about American names and then other names. Finally she made a decision, Valarie, she would be called Valarie.

"Valarie, what an interesting choice, I think I've only ever heard that name once in my life time. It certainly isn't from your day in age dear. Alright then, now, Valarie, do you know how to ride a horse?" Mute tilted her head before she nodded in approval.

Porter smiled with glee as she began to roll the name off her tongue again, "Valarie, you shall join us for our ride then. I think you will quite enjoy it." For once in her life Mute felt a deep pending fear for the woman before her. Maybe it was the devious look in her eyes or maybe it was the questioning one in Webb's. Either way, she was terrified.

Webb watched Mute mount onto a Canadian Horse with ease as he sat upon his oddly white Irish Sport Horse. He still had no idea what his mother was thinking when she invited his bodyguard along. Mute or Valarie as his mother was now referring to her as probably had no idea how ruff his mother rode. As the alleged body guard was mounted and set, Porter Webb followed in on her gorgeous Lipizzan. The white horse nickered and shook its white mane.

At this point Webb could tell Mute was a bit tense about this. For one she was riding the only dark horse in the group, translation in her mind, she was going to die. The spy smiled and nudged the white horse along. Porter smiled encouragingly as she followed her son.

Mute eventually came along behind the two as they headed out onto a hardened forest trail. At first it didn't seem too bad, they were going at a slow and tedious pace. Mute didn't mind that at all, she hadn't ridden in quite some time and admitted she probably was rusty.

Webb was right in front of her along with Porter who seemed in no hurry. There was something off about it though as if she was missing something. Like all things the calmness ended in a split second, "Alright kids, time to actually ride!" She yelled out from ahead.

Mute was taken back as suddenly Porter took off like a nuke after a jet. Webb in only a couple seconds to spare took off after her like a bullet. At this point Mute wasn't quite sure who was moving faster, Porter or Clay.

The bodyguard took her hands from the reins and rubbed down her face as she heard Porter whoop as Webb caught up. Oh, if Clay didn't get her killed this lady was going to. The Canadian Horse under her rumbled as it shifted its weight waiting for her to take back the reins.

Mute removed her hands from her face and complied, oh what the hell. It took three nudges before the chestnut horse took off after the others. The bodyguard would have screamed if she was able to as the world flew by. No, she took her comment back; she would be the death of herself!

Mute heard the clomping of hooves hitting the ground and the familiar feeling of being airborne for seconds at a time. She kept waiting for the horse to sprout wings and just fly already. It never happened though, as the Canadian Horse pursued the others Mute soon realized that she was getting closer to the others.

She could practically hear the two sets of galloping horses ahead. Then again that may be her heart beat and the horse under her. Mute dismissed it though as the sounds got louder. It took some time before she was on the Webb family's tail. The bodyguard could see the two white like horses not too far from her. Mute pulled back on the reins slightly to slow the chestnut horse.

The animal began to slow but didn't slow enough to completely stop dead. As Mute got closer Porter noticed and turned slightly to glance at the bodyguard. "You're going to have to be faster than that!"

The older woman turned back to the trail and noticed the fallen tree that marked the end of their 'race track'. "The fallen tree is where we stop!" Mute smiled as she looked at the fallen pine not too far up.

The chestnut advanced in speed and suddenly they were all neck and neck. Clay glanced at the taller woman, realizing that she had finally caught up. The spy let a small grin creep onto his face as they approached the fallen pine.

Mute anchored herself down to the chestnut colored horse as Porter Webb was suddenly in front of her. The older woman leapt over the fallen log and slowed her horse down to a trot before stopping. In second of course came Webb and last was Mute.

Clay was the first to dismount and help his mother off her Lipizzan. Once she was off the older woman strode up to Mute. The bodyguard dismounted herself and shakily found the ground patting the chestnut's side. Porter, being the wife of a spy, snuck up behind the somewhat disgruntled woman and stuck her hand out.

When Mute turned around she wasn't expecting the Webb to be right behind her. The tall woman jumped in to the air about two feet before landing back to Earth. Exhaling, Mute glared at Clayton snickering as silently as possible still next to his white horse. The female finally realized that she was supposed to shake Porter's hand and did so while the woman spoke. "I will be honest with you; I did not expect that sort of performance from you."

The older woman took her hand back and gave another smile. "I would guess that the reason they stuck you with my son is because of that similarity." Mute's eyes widened in confusion and of course, Porter laughed.

"Darling, I mean that you are full of surprises and mystery." The older woman grinned again and turned to her son briefly. "Now, I think it is time that we head back. As much as I admire your skills, it is lunch time." Before she turned though she added one more thing though, "Also I think we need to feed you a bit more, you're much too skinny for my taste."

Mute sunk down a bit as Porter turned around fully, why did everyone keep saying that? Mac said it, Harm's mother said it, and the director of the CIA even said it, now Porter Webb was saying it? She was starting to think people saw her as a stick rather than what she viewed herself as only a year ago. In a line up she could match a marine's muscle and a spy's cunning that was her, not a damned stick!

Porter, like many if not all, was oblivious to Mute's silent rant. "Clayton," the spy looked up from inspecting his Irish Sport Horse's left front hoof, "do you feed this girl?"

The man blinked slowly as he responded, "It's not exactly my job to feed her."

Porter then turned back to Mute, "Just when you think you have them trained well." The older woman sighed and mounted her Lipizzan. Clay eventually got back onto his white horse and of course Mute followed not too far behind.

She swore to whatever merciful being that was out there that this was some sort of conspiracy. Besides she didn't want another happening with Mac where she watched the downing of two giant burgers and curly fries topped off with a soda. Then again this wasn't Mac. Mute sighed, all it took was one day with the Webbs and you got this kind of mindset…joy.