NOTES: Thank you, the_wordbutler, for not only cleaning my words but convincing me to keep writing them.

"And that's how I showed him twelve percent of a good time," Pepper says to finish her story. Anna and the other two women in the room—Maria and May—laugh. But Anna doesn't join the others in taking a drink from their goblets of pinot noir. Hers has gone untouched for the evening, and she isn't even trying to hide that fact. She knows she won't be able to sneak anything past this trio of ladies, so she doesn't even bother trying.

Pepper turns her eyes on her. "Your turn for a story about a guy."

Anna shakes her head. "I'm not that good of a storyteller, and my stories aren't that interesting, anyway."

"Oh, nonsense," Pepper tuts. She hesitates for a second before asking, "Are you okay with talking about Phil?"

Anna feels May and Maria's eyes turn on her, possibly a silent reminder to talk about her… whatever Phil's title is right now in the past tense and pretend he's been dead this whole time. Honestly, the whole acting like he's gone aspect won't be much of an act.

"That's fine," Anna answers.

"Favorite memory of him," Pepper challenges before taking a sip of her wine.

The memory comes unbidden and threatens to overwhelm her with its sweetness. Anna takes a deep breath and quickly licks her lips before she begins her answer. "It was a couple of months before I moved to New York the first time." She keeps her focus on the shiny surface of the table they sit around, finding it easier to look at that than the faces sitting around it. "I was supposed to play a series of concerts in Paris. I'd never been before—still haven't actually—and was really excited about it. But the funding fell through or something, and it was cancelled. I called him to complain about it, and two days later, I came home to him making crepes in my kitchen—and by making crepes, I mean arranging the ones he bought at a bakery on plates."

"I thought he could cook," Maria throws out.

Anna shrugs. "He can grill. Always bragged about that like it was the highest form of cooking someone could achieve."

Pepper shakes her head. "I can't even tell you how many things Tony's caught on fire in the name of the almighty grill." The CEO turns her attention back to Anna with an evil glint in her eye. "So, what kind of reward did you give Phil for the crepes?"

Anna smiles while Maria and Melinda groan. "He only stayed for about an hour."

Pepper grins. "Plenty of time for—"

"We really don't need details," Maria interrupts.

She shakes her head. "We ate crepes, and he told me all the awful things about Paris. The dirty streets, how they snub you if you don't speak French, all of that. Anything that would make me feel better about not going." Anna runs her finger along the rim of her wine glass as she remembers the evening—the scent of Phil's aftershave, the sweetness of the food, the warmth that seeped into her body whenever Phil was around. "Then we slow danced in the kitchen. He sang this song, barely loud enough for me to hear." She can't help the little grin that crosses her face. "He couldn't sing to save his life. And the song he sang was in French, and I only speak about five words of that. Took me three days to figure out it was the French translation of 'Beyond the Sea.'"

"La Mer," Pepper clarifies.

"Sure."

"You miss him?"

"Desperately," Anna answers.

"You know," Pepper starts and she leans her elbows up on the table, "if you're ready, of course—"

"No," she interrupts with a chuckle. "Just no."

The sad look Pepper gives her makes Anna want to roll her eyes, but she fights the urge. "It doesn't have to be any time soon, but I know—"

"I'd already decided I wasn't going to have another relationship after David."

"So what changed your mind?" Melinda asks.

"I—" She pauses and shakes her head, wishing she had a more dignified answer. "Phil was Phil. You meet him, he's the most innocuous person on the face of the earth, and then one day, you wake up and you don't want to think about life without him." A thousand memories threaten to overwhelm her, but she squeezes her eyes shut for a second to block them off. "Thank you, Pepper, but anyone who ends up in a serious relationship with me tends to end up dead, so let's not do that."

She stands, making an excuse that she needs to go to bed, adding a complaint about her hand. Anna didn't ask for Melinda to follow her back to her quarters, and she certainly didn't invite the woman inside, but few things in Anna's life seemed optional at the moment. "Are you on escort duty?" she asks.

The other woman stares her down for so long Anna can't help but shift in place, but it does nothing to ease the tension. "I thought Simmons gave you pain killers for your hand."

Anna shrugs. "I'll take some Tylenol, it'll be fine. Is there something you need?"

Melinda's initial answer is yet another stare. "You've avoided strong pain medication, caffeinated coffee, and alcohol."

She feels her chin raise as a challenge. Her muscles tighten and her stomach churns. "And what concern is that to you?"

"Have you told him?"

"Told him what?"

"That you're pregnant."

The word hangs in the air, heavy and painful. "No," Anna answers.

"He deserves to know."

"I haven't told him because I don't know for sure."

Melinda arches an unsympathetic eyebrow. "There's a fairly easy way to find out."

Anna snorts. "Trust me when I say there's a shitty history with this, and, no, I'm not telling you about it." She sighs shakily, trying to get her emotions under control. "Besides, thanks to all of you, I'm now paranoid about everything. I can't go to a doctor because what if he finds out that, if I'm pregnant, the father is now the director of a non-existent secret spy outfit that is possibly full of terrorists?"

Melinda nods, her face still the same emotionless mask. She eases her way onto one of the barstools at Anna's kitchen counter. Felix decides to make an appearance, leaping up onto the counter and mewling at the new visitor. It immediately switches to loud purring when Melinda begins to rub his ears.

Anna tries really hard not to see her as some evil villain while she pets her cat, but it's a challenge.

"You know how I said I was married before?" Melinda asks.

"Yeah," Anna answers slowly.

"It was to Phil's predecessor."

"Was?" Anna pushes, because if she has to give up everything, she's going to make sure Melinda has to forfeit some information, too.

"It's complicated," Melinda responds in a drop it tone of voice.

"You ever have kids?" Anna asks as she pours two glasses of water and hands one to Melinda.

"No," she responds with snort. "That would've been a terrible idea."

"So what do I do?" Anna questions, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You could pee on a stick and find out whether this is nothing or not." Anna's mind flashes back to the last time she did that, and her heart almost breaks with the joy she'd felt. But that was ages ago, before everything in her life became broken. Her chest tightens with anxiety of having to go through such a thing again, and Melinda must pick up on it. "Or I can take you to Simmons, and she can run tests. You probably need to have a check up on your hand, anyway."

"Yeah," Anna sighs. "Let's do that instead."

Melinda nods. "I'll fly you out when I head back to our base tomorrow."

"Okay," Anna says as she starts to steel herself for a number of terrifying prospects.