[FUTURE] ... an assignment

May 21, 2011 21:40

After a gorgeous weekend spent getting married to the love of her life, followed by two weeks along the coast of Greece, Annie returned to work in the same mood that she'd spent those few weeks: utterly blissful ( Read more... )

with: clay, !future, occasion: six months gone

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fakes_death May 22 2011, 04:55:21 UTC
For his part, Webb was just as happy. Greece was absolutely beautiful as was Annie's new bathing suit. It was two weeks he would never forget.

Since Annie decided not to carpool, Webb got out of the house earlier than normal. He spent his first half hour reviewing the intelligence brief Arthur left for him. Everything was going just fine, except for the last bullet point that mentioned Annie's name.

Arthur, out of courtesy, told Webb about an hour before the meeting. It was a compartmentalized operation, and as such, required his presence. Webb planned on sitting at the table and remaining as impassive as possible. He had to. Anything else would be unprofessional and he couldn't let anyone in the room think being married to Annie prevented him from doing his job.

When Annie sat across from him he just nodded slightly. Deputy Director Turner was going to do all the talking, at least for now.

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freshoffthefarm May 22 2011, 05:01:25 UTC
As the op was outlined by the man she'd never met, Annie listened, her attention focused solely on him. Everything he said was something she'd heard before... until he mentioned the time frame.

"Four months?" Annie turned a look on Joan, who opened her mouth to speak, and was cut off by Director Turner.

"Four. It's short, compared to other long-term engagements we're running at the time, and we'll have someone watching, though they won't be in contact." Then he turned to Jai and outlined his duties, though 'watching' hadn't been from an up-close perspective. Jai would get Annie's reports in London and decide if any action was required.

Staring at the table they were all seated around, she was at a loss for words. Obviously, Deputy Director Turner wasn't asking; he was telling.

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fakes_death May 22 2011, 05:09:56 UTC
Webb's demeanor didn't change through the whole meeting. He sat, in his seat, and didn't move a muscle. Not a twitch, a frown, nothing. If Annie looked at him nothing about the way he sat would give away how he felt, however if Annie looked at his eyes, there would be no question about how he felt.

The idea that he was going to be alone in their big bed, in their big room, in their big house, all alone was killing him.

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freshoffthefarm May 22 2011, 05:17:52 UTC
It took another ten seconds before she looked up at Deputy Director Turner, a composed look on her face.

"Four months. Piece of cake." She deliberately avoided looking at Webb, well aware that he hadn't so much as breathed differently during the entire meeting. Twenty minutes and his composure hadn't changed at all, but her blood pressure was through the roof. She could feel it.

Looking at Jai, she added, "You'd better have my back," and Joan and Jai both cracked smiles.

"Every time," Jai told her, a hand going to her knee.

When Deputy Director Turner stood, Annie and Jai did as well, each shaking his hand. "Specifics will be worked over the next five days to give us all time to put a few last things in order."

Annie nodded and then, still without looking at Webb, exited the office with Jai. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed as she looked at him.

"My treat," he told her, aware that it was past coffee break time and she needed fresh air right then. Taking her arm, he led the way.

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freshoffthefarm May 23 2011, 01:28:43 UTC
The rest of Annie's day wasn't exactly busy, but she found herself on the receiving end of briefs regarding the situation in Eastern Europe and it was a lot of information.

At four-thirty, she was in her car and leaving the parking lot, her head aching. All she wanted to do was go home, lay down and go to sleep. If she was lucky, that would be the way to get through the next four months. It hadn't sunk it quite yet that she was leaving for a hundred and twenty days, at a minimum.

After she pulled in to the circular driveway, she leaned her head back against the headrest of her car and closed her eyes. It didn't even dawn on her that she might fall asleep there.

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fakes_death May 23 2011, 02:01:12 UTC
Clay arrived home about a quarter to five. His day was only slightly shorter than Annie's since he spent a long time trying to get Annie and himself a few days off to spend together.

He decided to make the same dinner he made when he proposed, just so she'd have something to eat that he knew she'd like. And from the sound of it Annie should be walking through the door, any second.

Maybe any minute....

Or maybe within the next half hour?

Clay drained the pasta, then headed outside and peeked in Annie's car window. There she was, sound asleep. She had a much longer day than he had, that's for sure. Clay tapped on her window, hoping not to scare her too much.

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freshoffthefarm May 23 2011, 02:15:01 UTC
The noise startled her and she sat up with a shot, eyes wide. Seeing Clay there, she flashed a smile and reached for her purse, opening the door.

"Hey," she said, trying to play off the sleepiness as she stepped out. "Sorry, I didn't even realize I'd been sitting there that long." Asleep? Not her. "It was a long day."

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fakes_death May 23 2011, 02:31:42 UTC
"I noticed." He closed her car door.

"Dinner's done, so all you have to do is eat and relax."

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freshoffthefarm May 27 2011, 00:02:37 UTC
When Annie woke up in the morning, she found herself sprawled across Webb's side of the bed, her face where his body should be. Fumbling for the alarm clock, she hit the snooze button and then pushed herself to a sitting position.

Hurrying into the shower, she kept her hair up and made it as quick as possible, then dressed for the day in a skirt and blouse that made her feel pretty before heading downstairs. The smell of coffee made her smile -- happy and wistful all at once.

"Morning," she said as she entered the kitchen, wrapping an arm around his waist and kissing him on the cheek.

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fakes_death May 27 2011, 00:09:13 UTC
"Good morning," Clay said while handing over the coffee.

He was already half dressed for work, pants, shirt, suspenders and tie. The rest of the suit was in the living room.

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freshoffthefarm May 27 2011, 00:12:20 UTC
"I have to confess," she said as she took the cup from him. "I only married you because you make the coffee every morning. And it's so good."

The bliss was written all over her face as she leaned against the counter and closed her eyes, taking small sips.

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fakes_death May 27 2011, 00:16:00 UTC
"At least it wasn't for my money." Clay was kidding of course.

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freshoffthefarm May 27 2011, 19:21:08 UTC
Annie's dreams consisted of dank Eastern European streets and bad art that she couldn't escape from. The color gray was featured in both in vast amounts and she tossed and turned quite a bit, though she never actually woke up.

It was a good thing that Annie didn't have anywhere to be the next morning because, when the alarm didn't go off for her, she found herself sleeping in until almost nine. When her eyes opened, she didn't feel like moving yet, so she lay there and just enjoyed her three-hundred count sheets and the sunlight coming through the sheer curtains.

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fakes_death May 27 2011, 19:27:47 UTC
Clay got up at his normal time, and deiced to let Annie sleep while he made coffee. This time though, he filled their insulated coffee pot, and brought two mugs upstairs, electing to enjoy the rest of the morning with his wife. He doubted Annie would have a problem with that.

When he noticed she was awake he looked away from the book he was reading briefly and smiled, "Morning."

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freshoffthefarm May 27 2011, 19:43:35 UTC
"Mmm," she said, a smile coming over her face when he greeted her. Reaching up, she pushed her hair out of her face and then ran her hand up his leg from his knee to his thigh. "What time is it?"

She loved that he was just there, waiting for her to wake up. His patience with her was astounding.

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fakes_death May 27 2011, 19:46:14 UTC
"About nine fifteen." Clay closed his book when she ran her hand up his leg, "I brought coffee up here."

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