fic: Acceptable Interaction
Title: Acceptable Interaction
Characters: Annie Walker, Auggie Anderson
Pairing: Annie/Auggie
Rating: PG-13, for heavy drinking, moderate swearing, and allusions to torture. Also cooties.
Word Count: 2160
Summary: Three times Annie hugged Auggie (and one time Auggie hugged her).
Author's note: Found this on the prompt meme (thanks, ohleeveeah!) and thought I'd fill it. Ended up being longer than I originally intended, and has more of a plot than I intended, too. By the way, I love all the incarnations of Auggie, so I tried to fit in as many as possible. And for the record, I have no idea how much alcohol I just gave him. Hopefully it isn't enough to kill him.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, Auggie would have gotten together with a lovely bespectacled geek named Impossible Star. As this has not happened, it is same to assume that I do not own Covert Affairs.
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When one finds out that one's supposed dream guy has left you in the middle of the night, leaving you with a cryptic note and a fifty-dollar bar tab, one is understandably bothered.
Retaining feelings for said dream guy is illogical. Feeling guilty for dating another guy after the fact is nonsensical. Despite this, Annie was crying in the now-familiar bathroom stall.
"I really should have figured out the difference between the men's room and the ladie's room by now."
If he came into the bathroom one more time, she'd have to... do something. Like switch his coffee with herbal tea. Or file a sexual harassment charge. Or sic Jai on him. Anything to get Auggie off her back about this.
Thinking of Jai brought on a fresh burst of tears.
"Hey, hey, hey, what is this?" A shadow under the door and a groaning sound from the stall informed her that Auggie was leaning on the door. "Annie, are you crying?"
"Go away."
"You know you can talk to me, right?"
"I mean it."
"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else. Hi, I'm Auggie Anderson. I'm your best friend. You usually tell me about stuff like makes you angry, or sad, or confused. You know, stuff like this, which (and I am willing to bet a few drinks on this) is all three."
"I'M STILL IN LOVE WITH BEN. SATISFIED?"
"No. You've been in love with Ben since he left you. Why are you suddenly crying now?"
Annie felt a sudden rush of anger. "Just because I usually share my problems with you doesn't mean I share all of them."
"So you've cried over him recently?"
"...no." That was a bluff, actually, she thought.
"So why the crying-in-the-bathroom thing?"
"...Jai asked me out." Silence from the other side of the stall door. "And I said yes." Again, silence. "Except now I feel like I shouldn't date him, because I still love Ben, and if I love Ben, how can I ever love Jai? It's like I'm mind-cheating on him. How can I be a good girlfriend if I can't let go of a guy who I'm never going to see again?"
"Annie, Jai knows you still love Ben, and he doesn't care." Technically true. "He doesn't care if you're a good girlfriend or not - he just wants you, Annie." Also technically true. He hated keeping the whole truth from her, the truth that said, Jai's been planted just to make sure Ben is still in love with you. In fact, he's hoping that they'll actually catch him through you. He doesn't want a girlfriend, he wants a raise from Arthur.
He heard the creaking of hinges. He felt a warm arm around his shoulders and a head-shaped weight on his chest. He smelled salt and grapefruit.
"You're really good at this best friend thing, you know that?"
He chuckled. "That's my job."
---
When one finds out that one's best friend is currently running up a fifty-dollar bar tab in the middle of the night and shows no signs of stopping, one is justified in one's concern.
Drinking four margaritas, three Goldeneyes, two shots of Curaçao and a Bloody Mary is not good for any part of the body, especially the liver. Being able to reasonably hold your liquor does not negate this fact. Despite this, Auggie was completely flat out drunk at the bar of his favorite hangout spot.
Annie walked over to him. "Is there a reason you're still here? Everyone left an hour ago."
"Didn't have a ride."
"Conrad said you refused his offer. And the offer some girl from Trinity gave you. In fact, he called me up to check on you."
"Wasshn't ready to leave jusshht then."
Annie pried the second Bloody Mary from his hand. "Come on, we're leaving."
It took about five minutes to get to Annie's car, mostly because Auggie, normally well coordinated, was incapable of walking in a straight line. It was another ten to Arlington. A long ten minutes, because they had managed to hit third shift traffic. Five minutes into the drive, Annie broke the silence and finally asked what she had meant to ask at the bar. Or at least, she tried.
"So why-"
"-wasssh I in the bar? Drowning my ssshorrowsh."
Silence from Annie's side of the car. Leave it to Auggie to read her mind.
"Happy?"
"No."
"That'sssh the funny thing, really: my ssshorrowsh can sshwim." Leave it to Auggie to read her mind and still retain his humor, despite the booze. "Today'ssh the aniversshary, 'kay?"
Oh. Oh, God, thought Annie.
"Yup, five yearssh ago today, I looked at a dead dog that turned out to be the lassht thing I ever ssshaw. Kind of wissh the lassht thing I sshaw wassh a sshunset or sshomethin'. Sshomethin' pretty."
Annie wasn't sure what to say to that. "It's OK"? No, it wasn't OK. It was terrible and it was permanent. "I'm sorry"? For what? She hadn't stuffed a dog full of grenades and left it on the side of the road. "I understand"? Bull. She couldn't even begin to understand what he went through every single day, what it took to even get up in the morning. So she was silent.
"Yuh know, I usshed to think that I went blind 'cuz I wassh in Spesshul Ops. Like, all the innosshent casshualtiessh I causshed, or didn' sshtop, all worked together to make me pay for killin' 'em. Acsshully, I sshtill think that sshometimessh."
They were there. Annie helped Auggie out of the car and up to his door. She couldn't leave without something, anything to tell Auggie that he wasn't alone, that she was there for him.
She hugged him, pulling him harshly to her, rubbing his back with one hand. "Don't ever think that, understand? You did a lot of good out there. Nothing you did made you this way."
They stayed like that for a long minute, until she realized his shoulders were shaking. She let go with a final tightening of the hug - he would not want her to see him like that. She walked back to the car.
She never heard what he said as she drove away.
"I wisssh the last thing I s-saw was you."
---
When one finds out that one's new boyfriend is actually spying on you in order to catch your ex-boyfriend, it is acceptable to have a certain amount of trust issues. This emotional upheaval pales in comparison to finding out that the only guy you do trust has been kidnapped and injured during field work. Again. (At least in the case of the "injured").
When finding out that they have finally found him and the bastards who kidnapped him, and have brought him home, it is best not to run through the halls of Langley looking for him. Despite this, Annie was in Auggie's room two minutes after she got the call.
He was there, bleeding through the bandages on his arms, his leg in a cast and suspended over his head. She didn't even want to think about his back, about the morphine drip that was necessary for him to sleep without pain, about his never going into field work again.
She drew up a chair to the side of his bed and held his hand. His eyes were closed, and his hair, soaked with blood, fell over his eyebrows, now. She brushed it out of the way.
She had a sudden and inexplicable urge to touch his face. He'd touched hers, of course, in passing, and once he'd asked to touch it so he could feel what she looked like. She ghosted her fingers across his forehead, used her thumb to feel the delicate skin of his eyelids, down his nose, across his prominent - too prominent. He'd been starved in captivity - cheekbones. She followed his jawline to his chin. She hesitated a moment before brushing her thumb across his lips. There was a healing cut near the top, and they were dry and cracked from lack of water.
His eyelids fluttered open. "Annie?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"They got me out."
"Yeah."
"Thank God."
He started shaking, and Annie was sure for a moment that he was going to cry. But he only gripped her hand tighter, and took several shaky breaths.
"So, tell me," said Annie, hoping to lighten the mood, "how is it that a senior field operative was able to be overpowered by two inexperienced drug cartel henchmen?"
He grinned. That's more like my Auggie, she thought. "Most sighted people would be overpowered by two heavyset guys. Especially if they were attacked from behind."
"Why is it," Annie asked, "that bad thing things always happen to you?"
"Karma from all my pointless one night stands?"
"Maybe..." She adopted a studious look, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. Then she grew serious. "Oh, God, Auggie, I thought I was going to lose you."
"You almost did. Trust me, it is very difficult to stay alive and not reveal CIA secrets while you're having your skin sliced up." He grinned, but with a significant lack of enthusiasm. "As long as they weren't too deep, they might not even scar too badly."
She tried to hug him, but ended up mostly just burying her face in his chest and laying her arms across him.
"I should have gone with you."
"Protocol called for a blind guy to replace their dead contact. Explain to me how you could have passed as blind guy."
She muttered something about dressing in drag, and he laughed.
A nurse came in five minutes later, and five minutes after that he was asleep again.
"You have no idea how scary it was not having your voice in my ear," she mumbled. She rose quietly, so as not to disturb him, and carefully walked back to her desk.
---
When one finds out that one's supposed dream guy has left you in the middle of the night, leaving you with a cryptic note and a fifty-dollar bar tab, one is understandably bothered.
Should one find out that said dream guy is now dead, having been outed as a rogue agent/mercenary/assassin/terrorist, it is perfectly reasonable to break down in tears. However, it is best not to do so in a public place, like in a briefing room, or a bathroom (in a bedroom with a sympathetic cat is much more appropriate). Despite this, Annie had found her personal Corner of Woe was the bathroom, and she was going to stop crying when she felt like it, damnit.
"Annie?"
She smiled despite her tears. Of course Auggie would be there. He always was,
"Annie, I'm sorry. Arthur shouldn't have told you about it so... brusquely. I don't know why he turned his charm off for the day. It was stupid, it was insensitive, and I should have told you sooner, so you wouldn't have had it thrust on you like that."
She opened the door. "I'm sorry... it's just... I held on to him for two years, Auggie. Two," she sniffled, "years and now he's out of my life again. I shouldn't even like him, but I do and oh God I'm so sorry for piling all this on you and-"
"Hey, why are you apologizing? I'm the one who's apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for." He chuckled, cupping her face in his hand and running his thump across her face to dry her tears. "I had this whole apology speech and everything."
She smiled, and he felt her smile. "I don't need a speech right now, I just need a hug from my best friend."
He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her, firmly enough that she could hear his heartbeat speed up a bit. She hugged his waist, moving closer.
"Annie-"
"What?"
"No, it's stupid. Never mind."
"No, really, what is it?"
"You really want to know?"
"Yes, I really do."
"I think of you as... as more than a friend."
Silence.
He started to twist out of her grasp. "Never mind. It's too soon. You just found out your ex is dead. Forget I said any-" He was stopped by her tightening her grip.
"Auggie. Me, too."
When one's crush acknowledges your affection and declares it mutual, one does not always need to hug the person tight enough to suffocate and then kiss her like an immature teenager. Despite this, Auggie decided that it would be okay just this once.
Or twice.
Characters: Annie Walker, Auggie Anderson
Pairing: Annie/Auggie
Rating: PG-13, for heavy drinking, moderate swearing, and allusions to torture. Also cooties.
Word Count: 2160
Summary: Three times Annie hugged Auggie (and one time Auggie hugged her).
Author's note: Found this on the prompt meme (thanks, ohleeveeah!) and thought I'd fill it. Ended up being longer than I originally intended, and has more of a plot than I intended, too. By the way, I love all the incarnations of Auggie, so I tried to fit in as many as possible. And for the record, I have no idea how much alcohol I just gave him. Hopefully it isn't enough to kill him.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, Auggie would have gotten together with a lovely bespectacled geek named Impossible Star. As this has not happened, it is same to assume that I do not own Covert Affairs.
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When one finds out that one's supposed dream guy has left you in the middle of the night, leaving you with a cryptic note and a fifty-dollar bar tab, one is understandably bothered.
Retaining feelings for said dream guy is illogical. Feeling guilty for dating another guy after the fact is nonsensical. Despite this, Annie was crying in the now-familiar bathroom stall.
"I really should have figured out the difference between the men's room and the ladie's room by now."
If he came into the bathroom one more time, she'd have to... do something. Like switch his coffee with herbal tea. Or file a sexual harassment charge. Or sic Jai on him. Anything to get Auggie off her back about this.
Thinking of Jai brought on a fresh burst of tears.
"Hey, hey, hey, what is this?" A shadow under the door and a groaning sound from the stall informed her that Auggie was leaning on the door. "Annie, are you crying?"
"Go away."
"You know you can talk to me, right?"
"I mean it."
"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else. Hi, I'm Auggie Anderson. I'm your best friend. You usually tell me about stuff like makes you angry, or sad, or confused. You know, stuff like this, which (and I am willing to bet a few drinks on this) is all three."
"I'M STILL IN LOVE WITH BEN. SATISFIED?"
"No. You've been in love with Ben since he left you. Why are you suddenly crying now?"
Annie felt a sudden rush of anger. "Just because I usually share my problems with you doesn't mean I share all of them."
"So you've cried over him recently?"
"...no." That was a bluff, actually, she thought.
"So why the crying-in-the-bathroom thing?"
"...Jai asked me out." Silence from the other side of the stall door. "And I said yes." Again, silence. "Except now I feel like I shouldn't date him, because I still love Ben, and if I love Ben, how can I ever love Jai? It's like I'm mind-cheating on him. How can I be a good girlfriend if I can't let go of a guy who I'm never going to see again?"
"Annie, Jai knows you still love Ben, and he doesn't care." Technically true. "He doesn't care if you're a good girlfriend or not - he just wants you, Annie." Also technically true. He hated keeping the whole truth from her, the truth that said, Jai's been planted just to make sure Ben is still in love with you. In fact, he's hoping that they'll actually catch him through you. He doesn't want a girlfriend, he wants a raise from Arthur.
He heard the creaking of hinges. He felt a warm arm around his shoulders and a head-shaped weight on his chest. He smelled salt and grapefruit.
"You're really good at this best friend thing, you know that?"
He chuckled. "That's my job."
---
When one finds out that one's best friend is currently running up a fifty-dollar bar tab in the middle of the night and shows no signs of stopping, one is justified in one's concern.
Drinking four margaritas, three Goldeneyes, two shots of Curaçao and a Bloody Mary is not good for any part of the body, especially the liver. Being able to reasonably hold your liquor does not negate this fact. Despite this, Auggie was completely flat out drunk at the bar of his favorite hangout spot.
Annie walked over to him. "Is there a reason you're still here? Everyone left an hour ago."
"Didn't have a ride."
"Conrad said you refused his offer. And the offer some girl from Trinity gave you. In fact, he called me up to check on you."
"Wasshn't ready to leave jusshht then."
Annie pried the second Bloody Mary from his hand. "Come on, we're leaving."
It took about five minutes to get to Annie's car, mostly because Auggie, normally well coordinated, was incapable of walking in a straight line. It was another ten to Arlington. A long ten minutes, because they had managed to hit third shift traffic. Five minutes into the drive, Annie broke the silence and finally asked what she had meant to ask at the bar. Or at least, she tried.
"So why-"
"-wasssh I in the bar? Drowning my ssshorrowsh."
Silence from Annie's side of the car. Leave it to Auggie to read her mind.
"Happy?"
"No."
"That'sssh the funny thing, really: my ssshorrowsh can sshwim." Leave it to Auggie to read her mind and still retain his humor, despite the booze. "Today'ssh the aniversshary, 'kay?"
Oh. Oh, God, thought Annie.
"Yup, five yearssh ago today, I looked at a dead dog that turned out to be the lassht thing I ever ssshaw. Kind of wissh the lassht thing I sshaw wassh a sshunset or sshomethin'. Sshomethin' pretty."
Annie wasn't sure what to say to that. "It's OK"? No, it wasn't OK. It was terrible and it was permanent. "I'm sorry"? For what? She hadn't stuffed a dog full of grenades and left it on the side of the road. "I understand"? Bull. She couldn't even begin to understand what he went through every single day, what it took to even get up in the morning. So she was silent.
"Yuh know, I usshed to think that I went blind 'cuz I wassh in Spesshul Ops. Like, all the innosshent casshualtiessh I causshed, or didn' sshtop, all worked together to make me pay for killin' 'em. Acsshully, I sshtill think that sshometimessh."
They were there. Annie helped Auggie out of the car and up to his door. She couldn't leave without something, anything to tell Auggie that he wasn't alone, that she was there for him.
She hugged him, pulling him harshly to her, rubbing his back with one hand. "Don't ever think that, understand? You did a lot of good out there. Nothing you did made you this way."
They stayed like that for a long minute, until she realized his shoulders were shaking. She let go with a final tightening of the hug - he would not want her to see him like that. She walked back to the car.
She never heard what he said as she drove away.
"I wisssh the last thing I s-saw was you."
---
When one finds out that one's new boyfriend is actually spying on you in order to catch your ex-boyfriend, it is acceptable to have a certain amount of trust issues. This emotional upheaval pales in comparison to finding out that the only guy you do trust has been kidnapped and injured during field work. Again. (At least in the case of the "injured").
When finding out that they have finally found him and the bastards who kidnapped him, and have brought him home, it is best not to run through the halls of Langley looking for him. Despite this, Annie was in Auggie's room two minutes after she got the call.
He was there, bleeding through the bandages on his arms, his leg in a cast and suspended over his head. She didn't even want to think about his back, about the morphine drip that was necessary for him to sleep without pain, about his never going into field work again.
She drew up a chair to the side of his bed and held his hand. His eyes were closed, and his hair, soaked with blood, fell over his eyebrows, now. She brushed it out of the way.
She had a sudden and inexplicable urge to touch his face. He'd touched hers, of course, in passing, and once he'd asked to touch it so he could feel what she looked like. She ghosted her fingers across his forehead, used her thumb to feel the delicate skin of his eyelids, down his nose, across his prominent - too prominent. He'd been starved in captivity - cheekbones. She followed his jawline to his chin. She hesitated a moment before brushing her thumb across his lips. There was a healing cut near the top, and they were dry and cracked from lack of water.
His eyelids fluttered open. "Annie?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"They got me out."
"Yeah."
"Thank God."
He started shaking, and Annie was sure for a moment that he was going to cry. But he only gripped her hand tighter, and took several shaky breaths.
"So, tell me," said Annie, hoping to lighten the mood, "how is it that a senior field operative was able to be overpowered by two inexperienced drug cartel henchmen?"
He grinned. That's more like my Auggie, she thought. "Most sighted people would be overpowered by two heavyset guys. Especially if they were attacked from behind."
"Why is it," Annie asked, "that bad thing things always happen to you?"
"Karma from all my pointless one night stands?"
"Maybe..." She adopted a studious look, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. Then she grew serious. "Oh, God, Auggie, I thought I was going to lose you."
"You almost did. Trust me, it is very difficult to stay alive and not reveal CIA secrets while you're having your skin sliced up." He grinned, but with a significant lack of enthusiasm. "As long as they weren't too deep, they might not even scar too badly."
She tried to hug him, but ended up mostly just burying her face in his chest and laying her arms across him.
"I should have gone with you."
"Protocol called for a blind guy to replace their dead contact. Explain to me how you could have passed as blind guy."
She muttered something about dressing in drag, and he laughed.
A nurse came in five minutes later, and five minutes after that he was asleep again.
"You have no idea how scary it was not having your voice in my ear," she mumbled. She rose quietly, so as not to disturb him, and carefully walked back to her desk.
---
When one finds out that one's supposed dream guy has left you in the middle of the night, leaving you with a cryptic note and a fifty-dollar bar tab, one is understandably bothered.
Should one find out that said dream guy is now dead, having been outed as a rogue agent/mercenary/assassin/terrorist, it is perfectly reasonable to break down in tears. However, it is best not to do so in a public place, like in a briefing room, or a bathroom (in a bedroom with a sympathetic cat is much more appropriate). Despite this, Annie had found her personal Corner of Woe was the bathroom, and she was going to stop crying when she felt like it, damnit.
"Annie?"
She smiled despite her tears. Of course Auggie would be there. He always was,
"Annie, I'm sorry. Arthur shouldn't have told you about it so... brusquely. I don't know why he turned his charm off for the day. It was stupid, it was insensitive, and I should have told you sooner, so you wouldn't have had it thrust on you like that."
She opened the door. "I'm sorry... it's just... I held on to him for two years, Auggie. Two," she sniffled, "years and now he's out of my life again. I shouldn't even like him, but I do and oh God I'm so sorry for piling all this on you and-"
"Hey, why are you apologizing? I'm the one who's apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for." He chuckled, cupping her face in his hand and running his thump across her face to dry her tears. "I had this whole apology speech and everything."
She smiled, and he felt her smile. "I don't need a speech right now, I just need a hug from my best friend."
He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her, firmly enough that she could hear his heartbeat speed up a bit. She hugged his waist, moving closer.
"Annie-"
"What?"
"No, it's stupid. Never mind."
"No, really, what is it?"
"You really want to know?"
"Yes, I really do."
"I think of you as... as more than a friend."
Silence.
He started to twist out of her grasp. "Never mind. It's too soon. You just found out your ex is dead. Forget I said any-" He was stopped by her tightening her grip.
"Auggie. Me, too."
When one's crush acknowledges your affection and declares it mutual, one does not always need to hug the person tight enough to suffocate and then kiss her like an immature teenager. Despite this, Auggie decided that it would be okay just this once.
Or twice.