Holy story alerts, Batman! All I can say is thank you for your responses and encouragement with this story. I'm deeply flattered. As promised, here's the next chapter. Grab those munchies and happy reading! Enjoy!
Notes: Thanks to my Awesome Beta! And a special thank you to Marie Elaine Cullen for helping me translate Auggie's words, because the only Russian phrase I know comes from the animated movie Anastasia. :)
Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off of this story because Covert Affairs does not belong to me. Sadly, it never will.
Two: Breathing
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Being woken by the shrill cry of the fire alarm is not how Auggie enjoys starting his day. He bolts awake and inhales deeply, then coughs on the smoke slowly filling his apartment.
Mild panic comes across in his voice when he calls out, "Annie?"
"Your apartment is not on fire, Auggie. I swear."
He removes his shirt while he moves to where his alarm is mounted on the wall, then waves the shirt like a fan to disperse the smoke and stop the beeping. It quits screeching after a few passes.
"Open the window," he says while he continues to fan the alarm.
Annie swears under her breath as she holds the smoking pan in one hand and opens the window with the other. Giving up on the eggs in the skillet, she drops the pan into the kitchen sink and turns on the faucet. The water hits the pan with a sizzle, sending up another billow of smoke, but it quickly cools.
"I think you can stop doing that now," Annie tells him.
Auggie comes over to stand beside her, misjudges the distance between them and bumps into her. Annie tips backward and throws out her hand to catch herself from falling. The back of her hand connects with the still-hot stovetop.
"Ow! Hothothothothot. . .." She immediately pulls her hand into her chest, rubbing the minor burn.
"Dammit, Annie, I'm sorry."
He feels for her injured hand, careful not to touch it and leads her by the elbow to the sink. He tests the water to make sure it's cold, then holds her hand underneath the stream.
"Stay there for a minute," he says, then leaves.
A few moments later he comes back with something small in his hand.
"It's really not that bad," Annie says truthfully. "Just a little sting."
"Well, this should take most of the sting away."
He hands her the cylinder.
"Why are you giving me Chapstick?" Auggie hears the incredulity in her voice.
"It'll help with the burn. Trust me."
He turns off the water and she pats her hand dry before she applies the lip balm. Upon contact, the Chapstick soothes her skin. Who knew?
"Thanks," she says, embarrassed by the whole situation.
He motions to the room around him with his hands. "What were you doing? Or should I say, what were you trying to do?"
"I was just trying to make you some eggs and bacon as a thank you."
"I'm guessing you don't cook very often."
"It's my sister who has the dinner parties, not me."
"Duly noted."
Annie catches herself staring at his chest and admiring his toned body. She would have never expected that kind of a physique to be hidden underneath Auggie's work clothes. Sometimes she forgets that he used to be a trained field operative—which explains all the muscles—instead of an office techie. She clears her throat and forces herself to stop looking at him; if she keeps ogling, she may lose the little bit of control she has and try to touch him. That type of behavior can only lead her into more trouble.
"Uh, so, should I try and give it another go?" she asks. "I'm sure you're hungry."
"Usually I subscribe to the whole 'if at first you don't succeed' thing, but how about I make us some waffles and coffee instead?"
"I like your idea better," she says with a smile in her voice. "Do you need any help?"
"Nah, I've got this. Step aside and let the waffle master get to work."
She laughs as he pretends to roll up non-existent sleeves and tilts an invisible hat in an elaborate display to show that he's getting down to business. Annie hops up on one of the open counters, watching the muscles in his back flex and move beneath his skin as he makes breakfast.
The tattoo on his back intrigues her. The sword and arrows scream masculinity. It reminds her of military mementos soldiers often have.
"You know, it's not polite to stare." His words snap her back to attention and make her face turn red.
"I was not staring." She doesn't even sound convincing to herself.
"I got it when I was with the Special Forces in Iraq."
He plates the waffles and tops them with strawberry preserves. Annie pours the coffee. They sit at the island in the kitchen and start eating.
"You have any other interesting tattoos?" Annie asks.
Auggie grins at her. "You'll have to find that out by yourself."
Her jaw drops slightly, but she narrows her eyes at him and playfully asks, "Is that some sort of challenge?"
"I'd call it more of an invitation."
His quip is rewarded with the sound of her laughter. The Cheshire grin on his face grows and he pulls off a wink in her direction.
"Does the flirt in you never sleep?"
"Never."
Auggie and Annie walk arm-in-arm into the office. It's nothing unusual for them, but this morning feels different. They are more comfortable with each other, but also more tense. For someone he has known only a year, Auggie finds that he trusts Annie to lead him when they walk; something he hasn't let another person do in a long time. He stopped using his laser cane when they're together after only a few months of knowing her.
"Do you really think it's a good idea for you to be here today?" he asks.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
Her fake nonchalance makes him question her even more. "Annie, it hasn't even been a week since you were shot."
Annie subconsciously adjusts her arm in the sling around her neck. "I want to know who those guys were, why they killed our contact and why they tried to kill me."
"Even if Joan lets you watch the interrogation—and that's a big if—you're not going to get that information. They were contract killers. Their only motive is money."
"But who was paying them?"
Auggie can see that trying to convince her to let it go is a losing battle. Her curiosity and drive are two of the things he most admires about her, but they are also the two qualities that will get her into a significant amount of trouble in this business.
Annie stops suddenly and squeezes his bicep to make him stop with her. She inhales sharply and Auggie feels her tense up.
"Good morning, Joan," Auggie says, nodding at his boss in acknowledgement.
"Why are you here?"
The question is not directed at him, but at the woman beside him. Her fingers tighten around his bicep a little more.
"I, uh. . ..Is that a problem?"
Annie doesn't see how Auggie remains so calm when faced with their intimidating superior. Maybe it's because she hasn't worked for the woman very long—or maybe it's because Joan could end her career with one executive order—but Annie is always on edge in her presence. And the way Joan regards her with a cold, almost annoyed gaze doesn't help ease her nerves.
"Go home, Annie. You're not of use to anyone in your condition."
"But. . ."
"If you're not at a hundred percent, I don't want you here."
"I could do paperwork." Annie doesn't want to go home and spend the day doing nothing.
"I'm not going to repeat myself."
Joan's sensible heels click away, getting softer and softer. Annie exhales loudly when she's out of earshot.
"She thinks she can just boss everybody around," she says.
"I'm not going to even comment on the logic behind that statement."
She harrumphs and Auggie can visualize her pout.
"I guess I'll see you back at the apartment," he tells her.
"Are you sure it's still okay for me to stay there?"
"How's that cut?"
She sighs. "Still too raw to put a decent amount of foundation on it."
Auggie digs in his pocket and pulls out the key to his apartment. He also takes out a five dollar bill. Annie takes both items.
"What's the money for?"
"So you can buy yourself lunch instead of making it." It's too much fun not to tease her.
She nudges him with her hip and says, "I'll see you later."
She slips out of his arm and starts walking, heels clicking along the hallway.
Auggie turns and calls to her: "Try not to burn the place down, okay?"
Annie decides flipping him the bird would be fruitless. Still, her middle finger itches all the way to the exit.
It's nearly nine o'clock when Auggie gets back. He shuffles out of his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket, then pads over to the fridge. He reaches for a beer, but finds a bigger bottle where he normally keeps his stash of alcohol. Taking it out and sniffing the contents, he determines it's a bottle of red wine. And from the weight of it, he can tell that a glass or two has already been poured.
He finds another wine glass in his cabinet and carries the bottle with him, leaving the beer for another night.
"Annie?"
"I'm in the bathtub."
He stops outside the bathroom door and leans his head against the wood.
"Enjoying those bath salts?"
"Oh, you have no idea," she says with a hum of appreciation. "You can come in."
"You sure?"
"I trust you not to peek."
The little jab at his handicap doesn't bother him like it used to. Coming from Annie's mouth, he knows the comment isn't meant to be cruel or demeaning.
Auggie opens the door and joins her, sitting on the closed toilet seat. The steam from the bath coats the skin on his neck and face, filling his nose with the subtle scent of lavender.
"Most women trust me with that." He holds up the bottle and offers her a smile. "Need a refill?"
Annie looks down at her empty glass then back up at him. "How'd you know?"
"It's my little secret."
She lifts the glass until it touches the top of the bottle. Auggie tips the neck slowly, listening to the wine climb the sides of the glass.
"That's good," Annie says. "Thanks."
Auggie pours himself a glass and holds it out in the tub's direction. "To bath salts and looking like a prune."
"I'll toast to the first part," Annie says through a chuckle. They clink glasses and drink.
"So," Annie begins, "tell me what happened after I was banished from the DPD. Did you get any information about the mercenaries' employer?"
"I knew you didn't just want my company. You only want me for my inside access."
"I hate being out of the loop. I don't like just sitting around and not being able to do anything."
He doesn't respond immediately. "Yeah, I know how that feels."
His voice drops to a near whisper and Annie can sense the masked pain behind his words. She gazes at him for a long moment as she sinks lower into the warm bath. How could she complain about something like that? She can tell her comment hit too close to the vest.
"I didn't mean it like that," she stammers.
"I know. But that doesn't change the fact that it's true."
Normally Auggie makes light of his blindness. To see him opening up like this. . ..She doesn't think he does this with just anyone.
"You miss it," she says quietly. "Working in the field."
"At times."
He tries to sound dismissive, like it doesn't bother him. But she knows it does. Auggie can't go into the field anymore-at least not as much as he'd like to. Annie can't imagine not being sent on missions. Without field work, she'd go crazy in that office, pushing papers and analyzing threats day in and day out. Even with a more fast-paced job like Auggie's, Annie knows she wouldn't be satisfied. Field work is what keeps her energized.
"You don't have to deny it."
He empties his glass of wine and sets it on the bathroom floor. "I was a badass field agent once. Arguably one of the best. And it all ended just like that." He snaps his fingers to emphasize his point. Annie sees that his head has drooped a little and his shoulders have slumped. He looks defeated.
"There are times when I feel useless."
He hears the water slosh around in the bathtub as her hand comes up to grip one of his own. "Auggie, don't ever think that."
"I was useless to you when you were attacked and shot out in California. If I had been on that op with you, that wouldn't have happened."
"I was on that op alone, whether you could have gone or not. I would've still gotten shot." She turns in the tub, pressing her breasts along the inside edge so she can grasp both of his hands with both of hers.
"Auggie, if it hadn't been you listening in, I might have been a lot worse off. You dispatched the police and the EMTs. Those sirens scared off that third mercenary. If he had decided to fight me, I'm not sure I would've won."
Though her words aren't completely truthful, she hopes they are true enough to make him realize how important he is to her and how great he is at his job. He's essential to the Agency. Annie knows she wouldn't have made it this far without his help.
Auggie can't accept the credit for her victory. "You were the one out there fighting."
"Your voice was the one telling me what moves to pull."
He shakes his head. "That was just a defense mechanism. Your body was telling you how to survive. It just happened to sound like me."
"Stop selling yourself short, August Anderson. People at the Agency depend on you. I don't know what I would do without you there."
Her speech is so passionate, so convincing that he almost believes her. He wants to believe her. He's just not fully convinced.
"I'm still learning how to accept that fact," he says. "It's hard."
A chill runs through her and Annie realizes that the water in the tub is colder than her body temperature. Bringing her hands back into the tub, she pulls the plug to let the water drain.
Auggie sits up straight at the sound. Then he stands, saying, "I'll let you get dressed."
"Will you promise to think about what I said?"
He pauses in the doorway, nods, then walks away.
"I thought you'd appreciate fresh bed sheets," he says as he stretches the fitted sheet over one of the mattress corners.
"Auggie, I am not kicking you out of your bed. I'll sleep on the couch."
"No you won't."
She helps him pull the sheet across the mattress. "It's enough to just let me stay here a couple days. Really. This is your bed."
"I'm giving it up. If you don't use it, no one will. And that would be a shame, because it's a very comfortable bed."
"You're not going to budge on this, are you?"
"Can't get anything past you tonight, can I?" he says as they pull the comforter back over the clean bed linens. Auggie grabs a pillow and makes his way toward the door, leaving her with a common Russian phrase he picked up from his ex-girlfriend: "Spokoinaia noch."
He hears her mumble something about him being a "stubborn brat" and just smiles as he settles himself onto the couch in his living room.
Most women he dates don't end up spending a full night at his apartment, so Auggie is completely tuned in to every movement Annie makes while sleeping. She tosses her body around and occasionally whimpers loudly enough for him to hear. This pattern lasts into the early hours of the morning. He wonders what she's dreaming about, because an active sleep like that means something won't let her rest.
A little after two o'clock the movements suddenly quit.
The mattress springs squeak as she gets out of the bed. When she comes out into the living area, she stumbles and stubs her toe on an end table. She swears quietly as she hops on one foot, squeezing the pain out of her extremity.
As she passes the couch on the way to the kitchen, Auggie speaks up. "You sure do make a lot of noise when you sleep."
Annie gasps. "Holy crap! You scared the bejeezus outta me!"
He laughs quietly. There's something about the night that requires everything to be softer, even laughter.
"What are you doing up?" he asks.
"Sorry, I was trying not to wake you." She reaches the refrigerator and rummages around until she finds the half gallon of milk.
"You still haven't answered my question."
"It's embarrassing," she responds, pouring herself a small glass of milk.
"Tell me." Auggie sits up, and she joins him once the jug is put away. There is hardly any space between them; her hip rests against his.
"I was having a nightmare." She doesn't elaborate. When Auggie doesn't immediately react she adds, "See, it is embarrassing."
"Actually, it's pretty normal."
"It's embarrassing that I woke up scared, that I can't sleep."
"You saw it happening again," Auggie says knowingly. "The fight with Enrique Ignacio's killers. The shooting."
"Uh-huh. My shoulder aches just thinking about it."
"Again, what you're feeling is normal."
Annie takes another drink, feels the cold liquid travel all the way to her stomach. She looks up at Auggie—sees the tiredness in his eyes and his tussled hair—and knows he hasn't gotten much sleep either. Her gaze drops back to the glass in her hand.
"Did you have nightmares after your accident?"
"Still do. But, I only have them once every couple of months now. You get used to it."
"Oh, that's very encouraging."
She's quiet for a moment. Auggie doesn't know what else to tell her. She knows that it comes with the territory, so there's not much more comfort he can offer.
"You didn't have one last night, did you?" he asks.
She shakes her head.
"I wonder why."
"I wasn't alone last night."
"You think sleeping on the couch with me prevented your nightmares?" he asks.
She finishes her glass of milk. "My sister used to sleep in my bed when I had nightmares. We'd talk until we were both exhausted. It always helped. I think just knowing she was beside me kept the bad dreams and the monsters at bay."
Her childhood memory lingers in the room like a question that needs an answer.
"Are you asking me to sleep with you, Annie Walker?"
"Maybe. . ..Would you?" Her cheeks heat, humiliated that she has to ask more of him.
"All you had to do was ask."
A wave of relief passes over her; she wasn't aware so much rested on his answer.
Annie stands and pulls him to his feet. They go into his room and lay on the bed. Annie wonders if she'll be able to sleep at all tonight. Images from her nightmares fill her mind every time she closes her eyes. Even if she didn't have those images to contend with, Auggie's laying so close to her that she thinks sleep will be next to impossible.
She hadn't expected sleeping together on a bed to be so different from sleeping on a couch, but it is. She realizes it's been almost three years since she's shared a bed with another man—a man other than Ben. Loneliness she wasn't aware had been left by her former lover takes hold. Now she'll never get to sleep.
She tenses momentarily when Auggie drapes his arm across her waist and reaches up toward her pillow, seeking one of her hands. He reminds her that she's not alone anymore; Auggie is with her.
"Relax," he breathes against her, "I know a better way than talking to make you feel exhausted."
She lets his fingers find the spot on her wrist they're looking for. "What, exactly, are you doing?"
Auggie resists the urge to pull her closer to him; he doesn't want to scare her or make things between them awkward. "No funny business. I promise. It's just a pressure point to make you tired."
His thumb finds the dip in her wrist, then moves slightly to the right. Auggie applies gentle pressure to the bone directly under her pinky finger on her wrist. He rubs his thumb slowly up and down the point, adding and releasing pressure.
Annie's not sure if it's the pressure point working or if she's so focused on the repetitive motion, but she knows that she falls asleep in a matter of minutes. And this time, there aren't any guns or knives to greet her in her dreams.
A/N: I realize this might not be the most original situation, but I hope you don't mind too much. If you were wondering, Auggie's Russian translates to "calm night"; I'm told it's a common way of saying goodnight.
Since you all were so awesome with giving me lines you liked last chapter, how about giving me a line/word that you disliked in this one? The only way I'm going to improve is if someone lets me know what's wrong. But. . .you could always give me a little cushion comment so my ego doesn't suffer too much. ;)
We're halfway done. I hope you'll stay around for the next chapter (which I'll post next Wednesday). Thanks for reading!
Oh, one last thing I'd like to be upfront about: This fic will be rated M by the time it is over. So, story alert me (if you haven't already) so you won't miss the last chapter. Anyone else think it's silly that M updates don't list on the main page?