freshoffthefarm | [AU] ... from the 'meet at a different time' meme

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[AU] ... from the 'meet at a different time' meme

After two years at the Agency, Annie's job hadn't gotten any better (or worse). Sure, it had it's downsides - namely, being shot at (or being shot), but the biggest one had to be the Agency parking lot.

She could never, ever find a parking spot.

Of course, the morning that she'd gotten up early and proceeded to spill coffee on her first outfit, had to jump start her car and then fill a tire with air? She managed to get behind the chatty son-of-a-bitch in the compensation car at the guard shack. She sat there, plotting the ways to key his car without actually getting caught and then he'd moved on.

Smiling at the guys in the shack, she showed her ID, waited until they'd looked under her cars with mirrors, and then picked up the pace on the way to the agent parking lot.

It just wasn't her morning.

The short cut she took through the visitor lot took her right past the spots in front for all the diplomats and the Agency hotshots. She didn't see Mr. Compensation trying to adjust his parking until she'd plowed into his rear bumper.

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He was even less amused, "The car is not a midlife crisis."

She paused and smiled at him again, this time without any hesitation.

"I'm sure that's what they all say." Her grin grew. "Compensation, then?"

"I am not compensating for anything either."

Her smile was enough to infuriate him but he assumed that was going to just get what she wanted out of him, a reaction.

"I'm sure they all say that, too." She looked him over once more, then eyed his car. "It should be fine. A day, maybe two, in the shop. And for those, I bet they give really nice loaners."

Thankfully, she'd been driving the Golf and she still had the Corvette in reserve.

"Believe me, Ms. Walker, when I tell you, you have no idea what you're missing."

She also wasn't wrong about the loaners either.

"What I'm missing?" Considering that she'd just made a joke about the size of his-- well, she wanted him to make himself clear. "Do elaborate, Mr. Webb."

"I'd really rather let you fill that in yourself."

He was sure she could, and it would allow him to side step a sexual harassment complaint that could be filed.

And she really wanted him to get as specific as possible. Minus the accident, and the fact that he was a dick, Annie had to admit he wasn't bad looking. Definitely older than most guys she ever looked at, graying even, and who wore a three piece suit anymore? Not her type, that was for sure, but the fact that he'd even gone there with that kind of joke amused her to no end.

She couldn't help but glance over the front of his slacks, her smile as tiny as she could make it. "It'll be the stuff of dreams for at least week."

With that out of her system, she pulled the door open and slid into her car.

Clay got back in his car before re-pulling into his parking space.

He wasn't planning on drawing attention to anything other than the accident. Everything else was just something that happened, nothing worth mentioning, so he thought right now.

Annie was his type though, at least physically. Younger than him and blonde.

WAY on the other side of the parking lot. Agents side. A long walk. In heels. Which she did on the phone to her insurance company, though she did as they said and admitted no fault. Also said nothing about playful banter, at least on her side. Did say something about the possibility of Mr. Webb and/or his insurance company being jerks about it since the car she'd hit was an Aston Martin.

She hung up with no good news and sighed as she walked into the Agency. Bad day was worse and so she headed to the coffee stand. Ugh.

Since Clay's walk was shorter, he was already at his desk and putting out a fire in counter-intel. The same one that caused him to be on the phone all the way from his condo to his parking space. It was not a good situation.

Three hours, three dead informants, and a phone call to his insurance company later, he headed down to the Agency Starbucks. More coffee, that wasn't the swill they brewed on his floor was needed.

Since her first coffee run hadn't improved her mood at all, and her morning had pretty much gone to crap what with talk of a deep cover mission possibility, Annie's mindset was on a different level all together by the time eleven o'clock hit.

Standing behind two other women who were the chatty type, she folded her arms across her chest and pretended to be focused on something other than whatever they were saying. There was no way she was getting dragged into the latest office gossip, no matter what it was. Even if they were talking about someone hitting Deputy Director Webb's half-million dollar car.

She groaned inwardly and took a step forward as one of them was forced to order.

Clay found himself right behind Annie in the line, and wondered if he should say something. He heard bits and pieces of the gossip going on infront of her, so it really was a 50/50 shot that his saying something would peg Annie as the one who hit his car.

Instead, once Annie got to the front, he signaled to his favorite barista that he'd take care of the price of her coffee.

Annie, meanwhile, had no idea who was behind her. She was too busy keeping her head down to avoid being talked to by the two women in front of her. Once they'd passed, she gave the barista a pretty smile, wished her a good morning and asked how her day was before placing her order. When asked how her own day was going, she said (rather pleasantly), "Fine, thank you."

However, when the barista handed over her cup without asking for payment, Annie held up her five dollar bill questioningly. The woman nodded to the man behind Annie and she turned, confused.

"That wasn't necessary," she said quietly, stuffing the five into the barista's tip jar. "But thank you."

She gave the barista a quick smile, then went to sit in her corner seat, quiet and away from everyone.

Clay paid for both cups of coffee, then headed off in Annie's direction as she left the line so quickly, he didn't even have a chance to say 'You're welcome.'

He sat next to her, and said just that, followed by, "I don't plan on confirming any rumors about who hit my car."

The only thing that spread faster than news of a mole was good gossip and that car accident certainly qualified.

Annie looked up at him and, in an attempt to be flippant said, "That good, because we're going to have to stop meeting like this or people will talk."

Taking another, obviously very appreciated, drink of her coffee, she sighed and all flippancy and fight was gone. Her expression was entirely sincere when she spoke. "I really am sorry about your car. I've had kind of a bad morning, was running late and was cutting across the parking lot. I just wasn't looking where I was going."

She looked down at her cup. So much for not admitting guilt, but as far as she was concerned, taking that kind of responsibility was more important. And she was sorry. She gave a tiny snort of laughter as she raised the cup to take another drink. Catching his eye across the lid, she added, "Best defensive driving scores of all time at the Farm and I couldn't manage to miss someone backing out of a parking spot."

"It happens, especially if your morning isn't going the way you planned."

His certainly hadn't, which is probably why he was less than careful when adjusting his parking. Three dead informants had a tendency to make a person distracted.

Annie's comment about her defensive driving scores made him chuckle, "It happens. It's why they call them accidents."

"Something I've learned over the last two years? Nothing every really goes the way we plan."

She sighed into her cup and leaned back a little to give him a contemplative look. "Accidents don't usually happen to Aston Martins, especially in parking lots. Why a four hundred thousand dollar car here?"

It was the polite way of continuing the "crisis or compensation" conversation.

"The car was an upgrade when I got promoted. When I was an agent I drove a BMW."

After Paraguay, he needed something material to prove to himself that he survived. Granted, he didn't buy it until after Mac slapped him across the face, but it made him feel better.

What was it with fancy East Coast boys and their fancy cars? Jai Wilcox had his own fancy car that he drove around in as an agent, too, and Annie just didn't see the point. Not that she was going to judge. Much.

"Of course you did," she said quietly, taking a long drink and standing. "Well, thanks for the coffee. It was... nice."

He wasn't sure what her comment meant, other than he was sure she'd thinks he's an entitled ass. Clay would admit he's an ass but he wouldn't say he ever felt entitled to anything.

"Hope it made your terrible morning a little better."

There was that smile again; the one that, in another time or place, she would have saved just for him.

"Coffee always makes a terrible morning better, Director Webb." She touched his shoulder as she passed him by, then glanced over her shoulder at him as she walked away, another smile on her face.

Lunch in two hours was the only thing that was going to stop her from having an awful afternoon.

Annie's smile caused Clay to smile back. He was sorry that he was such an asshole earlier in the morning, Annie got the brunt of his stress from work and the phone call he was dealing with.

Once she'd walked down back toward the elevator he finished his coffee, wondering how she got away with wearing a skirt like that in an environment as conservative as the CIA.

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[AU] ... from the 'meet at a different time' meme

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