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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"No, I wouldn't think they would," she agreed with a grin, "especially when it comes to the riding." She paused and gave him an obvious look over. "They look good on you, though."

"Thank you," Clay wasn't expecting the complement either. Annie seemed to be full of surprises.

All she did in response was nod and go back to her drink. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure what was a safe topic at dinner with a man she knew so little about. She was, however, content to sit and look at him for a while.

This was the most awkward part of dating a fellow agent. Finding the safe topics of conversation that could be discussed in public was difficult. Finding the safe personal topics that the other person was comfortable talking about in public was even harder.

He decided to follow Annie's lead and go back to his scotch. Maybe that will give him something to talk about.

Silently, Annie reached out and took his hand, then set her drink down before catching his eye. Giving him a smile that was really not much more than a quirk of her lips, she said, "It's going to be a long night if we can't make it through dinner."

She had a point, so he decided to ask a question he viewed as important, "What are you comfortable talking about?"

Clay didn't want to run the risk that he was going to run into Annie's defenses.

"Work's pretty much out of the question, but anything else? I want to tell you about me, but I don't want to bore you with the tiny details," she confessed. "I'm not sure where to start."

"I've never been bored with tiny details."

He'd made his living dealing with tiny details. All of them offered insight into a person, insight that he found he wanted when it came to Annie.

"Start anywhere."

"Anywhere?"

She didn't let go of his hand, instead turning her own in it so that she could thread her fingers through his. "My dad was in the military, so I grew up all over. It's what gave me my love of travel. I wanted to be able to pick a place and just go, you know? Learning languages always came easy to me and then, well... I met a guy."

The story of Ben Mercer, though he'd likely read the official details in her file, was a simple one to tell. "And that's how I came to--"

The waitress appeared and Annie pulled her hand back from Webb's. Looking up at the woman, she said a simple, "Thank you."

Clay nodded when she was cut short. He did see the details of what led up to her employment at The Company, including her involvement with Ben Mercer. Agents like Mercer were the ones that Webb found the most difficult to deal with.

When the waitress put his meal in front of him he thanked her with a smile before turning back to Annie, "Everyone always has a story when it comes to working there."

"You told me a little about your parents, but not really about you," she told him as she lifted her knife and fork, tucking into her food. Before she took her first bite, she raised her eyebrows. "What's your story?"

"Before I started working at the State Department, I did some work breaking code."

He didn't intend to have the conversation venture down this road but she was honest with him, he was going to be honest with her, "I wanted to find out what happened to my father."

"And did you?" She was curious to know if he found out, obviously, not what he found out. Not just because he probably couldn't tell her, but because it was obviously very personal to his family.

"Not yet, no. I'm not high up enough."

There were only two position levels that stood between him and being Director, so it stood to reason he was going to stay around until he made it to the top.

Annie nodded and took another bite of her food before she asked her next question, though she really didn't look at him as she asked it.

"Does it bother your mother?" It probably seemed a little weird for her to ask after a woman she didn't know at all, but she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be in that position.

"I think it does and it doesn't. She knew about the risks, she was in the same line of work. At the same time, he was her husband. I've never asked."

"It would bother me, risk awareness or not," Annie told him. "Your mother sounds like she has a very stiff upper lip."

She went back to her food, a bit quieter than she had been. "Sorry for bringing the conversation down. Does that mean you're going to be Director someday?"

That she said with a smile.

Clay nodded again, "She does a lot of the time." Like everyone else Porter had her emotional moments.

"I hope I'm Director someday. I'd have to beat out Arthur though." He didn't acknowledge the apology, mostly because her initial question was asked innocently. She had no idea about his father.

"I'm sure you'll have no problem beating Arthur to the top," she assured him without even thinking about what she was saying, poking at her food some more as she took another bite.

Then she gave him another smile as she lifted her glass.

Arthur was a friend of Webb's maybe one of his oldest friends at the Agency and he wasn't sure that he'd beat him to the top considering Arthur outranked him now.

"Here's hoping." He tilted his glass in Annie's direction in lieu of a toast. Any little bit of luck would help.

Ready to change the direction of the conversation, though it seemed like everything led back to work, Annie said, "So, what's your favorite thing to do on the weekends? You know, to relax."

Then she added, "Besides riding with your mother."

"I usually spend most of the morning with the paper and my music collection. My Sundays are very quiet."

He realized when his life was boiled down to what he did every day, it revolved around work more than anything else. 90% of his life was something he couldn't talk about.

"A quiet Sunday is one I count as a very good Sunday." She couldn't help but add, "At least the ones where I'm in town."

The truth of the matter was, she spent more time out of town than in, and though she figured that on the surface he knew that, it wouldn't hurt to mention it in passing again. At least so that they could talk about it if it was going to be a problem.

"I know how that is," he paused as he finished his meal, "it's why I try not to miss a Sunday with my mother. I've missed too many."

It wasn't going to be a problem. That was one of the advantages to dating someone in the Agency. No explanation.

Annie finished a minute later and then polished off her drink as well. Setting her fork down, she settled back in her seat and nodded.

"That makes sense. As much as I love traveling, it's hard to be away from my sister and my nieces as much as I am." It was unsaid, but she wasn't looking forward to being away from him while they tried to get this... whatever it was off the ground.

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