"Asshole." She breathed, quickly downshifting to slow the car. "That's what signs are for, to read!"

Next to her, Chloe giggled, while Annie could feel Danielle's recriminating glare boring into the back of her head – a double check in the rear view mirror only confirmed it.

Annie shrugged. "Do people not have places to be?" She slowed again – not having been cut up – to take a ticket for the airport parking lot. Parking the car and emptying it of people and a week's worth of luggage was relatively simple; certainly far less complicated than the dreary drive down.

Chloe slipped her arm through Annie's, rolling her eyes as Danielle ushered a reluctant Katia toward the terminal entrance. "I think he will ask, y'know, for you to marry him." She yanked her phone from the back pocket of her black jeans. "He's even promised to text me. Just incase you forget to call. Or Mom forgets to tell me."

Annie chuckled, tossing her niece a coy grin. "Nice to know. But I can assure you, if Auggie did propose, I'd not forget to tell you." She winked. "Besides, retribution would taste so sweet if I had you wear some pink bridesmaid meringue… thing." She paused next to Danielle, sweeping the departure board for their plane details.

On time.

Thank god, she thought. Digging in her purse for spare change, she turned to the girls, offering more than enough cash. "You got a couple hours. Grab yourselves something to drink."

Chloe gave a doleful look before shoving her sister off toward the newsstand.

Danielle met her sister's eyes. "Promise me you'll let me know how today goes."

Annie nodded, looking to the floor. "I hope it's okay."

Danielle smiled. "Lots of women have a very successful first scan." Her face softened. "You guys need to talk. Long and hard. You can get through it. It's just a rough patch, Michael and I had our fair share."

Annie scoffed. "Hardly think he's a…" She trailed off, grimacing. "Sorry. That was insensitive."

Danielle smiled, though Annie didn't miss the dart of pain in her eyes. "Funny how since all this divorce stuff, we're actually getting on rather well." She shrugged, turning away on the pretence of checking the girls. Annie saw right through it.

"I'm here, you know. Anytime. You and girls can always stay if you need to. Least we have the room now."

Danielle pulled Annie into a deep hug. "I love you. The girls love you." She paused. "And Auggie loves you. So much, Annie."

At the mention of his name, she bit her lip, squeezing Danielle that little bit tighter. The din from the milling throngs of people grew quieter as the words formed on her lips. "I truly don't get why…" She pulled back, forcing herself to look Danielle in the eye. "I killed the last shred of hope he had."

"I somehow doubt that. Anyway. You need to run. Talk to him, you two need to find your grove again, or something along those lines."

She pulled Danielle in for one last cuddle, still feeling that old safety net wrapping itself around them; a part of her still wanted to hang on to it. Moving out to California had crossed Annie's mind more than once, especially after those terrible dark weeks which followed the Smithsonian bombing… No, don't go there. Annie forced it out, that particular demon shunned – even if only momentarily.

The drive to Georgetown was uneventful, she remained firmly stuck in autopilot, her head a swelling vat of shattered glass, broken screams, and that ever present roaring crack of white light and pyretic smoke. And that demon recapitulated, again and again…

No, don't go there…

She forced herself through the entrance doors into the hospital lobby, but she wasn't seeing the hospital, it was the museum… and all those children. As she marched toward Obstetrics, Annie was not only seeing the explosion in her head, but was now feeling it remarkably well deep in her gut; fire pulled at the lining of her stomach and snaked out. Her hands flew to her abdomen, instinct taking over.

A child lay within; her child, Auggie's child. She silently willed it to take root, to remain within. Focus, Walker. That voice, it calmed her, he could always calm her. She had learned to hear him in crisis. Tell me what you see…

To the Auggie inside her head, she replied: An innocuous reception desk and some chick with far too much makeup on. Steeling herself, she took a breath, approaching reception. "Annie Walker. Traffic was a nightmare, I hope –" But she was cut off, the azure of eyes of the receptionist popping under heavy kohl.

"No, you're fine, we're running a bit late." She nodded toward the waiting area. "Your husband's already waiting, take a seat and the doctor will be with you shortly."

Annie couldn't stop the grin from spreading. Your husband… even still, the phrase slid over her like silk, cloaking that last piece of vulnerability she still harboured about their relationship. Clinging to it desperately, she approached and – not missing his own sly grin – took his hand as she sat down. Maybe this was it, perhaps the precipice had been avoided; they weren't going to tumble down into oblivion quite so soon.

"Free at last?" He quipped, squeezing her hand.

She nudged him with her elbow, glancing about the room. Rows of pamphlets stared back at her: Your Labour, Breastfeeding Your Baby, Your Baby's Development … Magazines littered the tables: Mother & Baby, Good Parenting… Photographs of happy mothers with perfect hair holding their far too smiley babies covered the walls and Annie felt that odd fire return as it dawned on her that she was here because she was pregnant. Again. And she couldn't pretend that it would all end happily ever after. There was no safety net between her legs.

She felt his fingers walking along her back as he pulled her close, burying his lips in her hair. "Whatever happens, I'm here." Those very same words she had whispered into his fingertips moments before their long sojourn into hell and back. Annie wanted to pull away, run free, but he held firm. "You know you can't hide in the ladies'."

"I know," she murmured, allowing a small chuckle at the long running joke between them. "'Boundary' isn't in your vocabulary." Blinking back tears, she inhaled deeply. "Whatever happens."

And before he could even reply, her name was called. He guided her out of the seat, his grip firm on her elbow, the necessity not entirely his this time; if he let go, she feared she'd turn and walk out. What if it's dead, what if it's not there, what if I start to bleed… The churning inside her head Annie was certain he could hear.

Smiling shakily at the doctor, she led him inside the office, delicately forcing Auggie's hand to the arm of a chair. She sat next to him, staring at the male doctor. She didn't even wait for Auggie to finish folding his cane before the words tumbled out of her mouth: "I lost it, last time. I don't think I –" Breathe. "I don't think it'll stick." Each letter assaulted her and she glanced at Auggie – prepared to see his stoicism; unnerved as he squeezed his eyes shut and dripped his head.

"I'm Dr. Leonard, Anne," The doctor smiled warmly. "And there is no reason as to why you won't carry a perfectly healthy baby into full term."

That logical half knew he was right, and expected the answer. Yet that other half, that insecure half, which was still clinging to the silk threads of Auggie as a husband, couldn't fathom it. Her body had let her down. She was Annie Walker, the bad-ass spy who was incapable of something as biologically critical as keeping a baby. "But – oh."

Dr. Leonard continued, flipping up pages from Annie's file. "You were under a severe amount of stress, emotionally and physically. I understand you were involved in the Smithsonian bomb, which was, no doubt, extremely traumatic. Unfortunately, nature decided its course." He placed the file down and offered another warm smile. "However, considering your age and your lifestyle, I'd say your chances are very favourable."

She opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue was lost somewhere amidst the jumble of emotion as she processed what was being said. She felt Auggie's fingers brushing her thigh and she distantly heard him speaking to the doctor – the male doctor, and she had to ask why so many men chose to become gynaecologists - but the only movement came from her hand as she offered her palm… to the father of her baby.

The implications stormed throughout: work, Joan, missions. And she remembered Auggie's news from a few days ago and their – her – harsh words. He'd ground her from field work. Regardless of my position, his raspy baritone words thundered, there's protocol…

Annie snapped back to the present, forcing herself to absorb the doctor's words: they'll take blood, an ultrasound scan will be performed to measure exactly how far along she was.

She nodded her head. Auggie squeezed her hand.

Annie Walker was carrying their child.