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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"You're implying that sometimes your mood requires something a little stronger than wine, Clay." She watched him for a reaction and then added, "I'm not making a judgment."

"Sometimes it does. Comes with being one of those lucky few with my title."

Most recently, two weeks ago when Annie got home he had scotch, and five and a half months prior because he really wasn't convinced she'd come back.

He was glad there was no judgement, which made him feel a little better.

Reaching out, she squeezed his hand and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "That's why they gives those titles to guys like you. People they know can handle it with only a little scotch."

She pulled her hand back as the waitress delivered their drinks and she lifted hers with a small salute. "To successful missions."

Clay clinked her glass carefully, so as not to spill his drink. It was a pretty worthy toast. "From the looks of it, you're good at those."

His usually turned out successful even if they hung on by a thread there for a while.

"Sometimes it gets a little rough," she admitted after her first sip, setting her glass down on the table and giving a shrug. "But who hasn't had one or two-" Or ten. "Of those ones, right?"

"Or more than ten in my case." He hoped that admission would make her feel the slightest bit better. "And someday, if you want to hear those stories I'll tell you as long as we aren't in public."

"Only if you feel like it," she told him encouragingly. "I know it goes. Well, maybe not whatever you had, but..." Her smile was gentle. "You can look it all up on Monday if you feel like."

It was all there, down to the time she'd spent in Iran.

"I took a look after you left."

There was a lot in there that would have left a lesser agent a lot more damaged. The fact that she wasn't said a lot about her, and without looking at that file, Webb wouldn't be sitting here now.

"I'm hoping that what you saw was a little impressive," she said, suddenly a little embarrassed. She had a feeling that somewhere in there was a hint of her insubordination and the way she liked to go off on her own and improvise a lot of her ops.

"It was very impressive."

He didn't mind the insubordination or the improvisation. It had a lot to do with why he thought she was a good agent, and he suspected why Joan thought the same. Annie got the job done.

Annie wanted to demure, object that it wasn't 'very' impressive, but she had a feeling that Clayton Webb didn't give out compliments just willy-nilly and that maybe, just maybe, she'd earned that one, at least in his eyes. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside and she nodded.

"Thank you."

"You remind me a lot of well, me."

She was right about the fact that he didn't hand out complements to just anyone. You had to earn it.

His added comment made her grin and she tilted her head to the side. "So, my impressive self reminds me of you? You're saying that you're impressive, too."

"Most other people in The Agency just think I'm aggravating. Most of them choose to ignore that I get the job done. I think I'm impressive, at least professionally."

Personally, he didn't think he was impressive at all. He actually had some modicum of modesty when talking about himself and his non-Agency related talents.

"At least professionally, but not personally. Why is that?"

Obviously, Annie was expert at reading between the lines and she let her grin soften to a small smile as she watched and waited for his answer.

"I don't think my personal life is that much to brag about, that's all."

The fact that Annie was his first date that went more than one date in almost a decade played a part in that. "I guess it comes from what I've been doing. I try to keep my private life separate."

"Then I won't hold my breath for a second--" Third? "Date."

She went right back to being on the verge of laughter as she lifted her glass. If he'd really gone trawling through her record, he was well aware of her past with Ben Mercer and all that entailed. "Personally, I don't think personal lives should ever be bragged about."

"I would love a second," though he thought it would be a third, "date."

He did really go poking through her record, and read a large amount of it when insomnia struck one night. He knew about Ben Mercer, Iran, and any number of other things that happened to her. He was still impressed.

"That wouldn't really be keeping that and this separate, though." She said it gently, as though he might need the reminder.

After a moment, she added, "That's not an objection. I just don't want you to compromise... morals or whatever."

"My morals have never been a problem, believe me."

Ethics were different, but his morals always stayed intact.

"Mixing my personal and professional lives is okay, sometimes." He thought Annie was worth the risk.

"Sometimes?" Tracing her fingertip over the edge of her glass, she had to ask. "How many times in the past have you mixed the two, Clay?"

"Twice."

He didn't want to explain that in neither case did it work out. Sarah was a mess, and Joan married Arthur. Though, at least in Joan's case they stayed friends and remain so to this day. The same went for Arthur, but Clay assumed Joan never mentioned what happened that time on that one mission...

That was reason enough for her to assume that this didn't technically count as mixing it up for a third time since really, meeting for coffee didn't really count as a date and drinks... well, it was a date to her, but maybe he didn't see it that way? He was older, definitely, so maybe his expectations were different. Higher. Lower?

"I'm guessing it didn't go well. And yet you still say sometimes." She wanted to hope it was because of her. Then she felt silly.

"No. One did go better than the other, but still not as well as I would have hoped."

Clay planned on leaving it at that. "Sometimes it is worth it. If it wasn't I wouldn't be sitting here."

"I won't ask for details," Annie assured him with a laugh, one that faded into another soft expression when he finished.

Considering that she'd met him after plowing into the back of his very expensive car, she wasn't sure why he wanted to meet her for drinks. "Why are you sitting here?"

Straight to the point.

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