Title: Secrets Within Secrets
Disclaimer: USA Network and Whedon... not me.
Fandom: Covert Affairs/BtVS
Characters: Annie Walker, Buffy Summers
Spoilers: Post BtVS. To be safe - up to and including 1.05 'In the Light'
Summary: There are more secrets in Annie Walker's life than the CIA knows.
Notes: All 1181 words written in a sudden burst of energy after whiny LJ post about how I've got writer's block... ;) And, no this isn't actually the fic I mentioned in that post - this is the fic to get to that fic *headdesk*
“Who is that
?” she hears Jai ask Auggie as she rounds a corner into DPD proper. She hears Auggie shift uncomfortably against the railing waiting for Jai to realise his little faux pas.
“Uh, the blonde everyone in the room is staring at,” he finally says, Annie can hear the embarrassment in his voice.
“Need a little more than that, Wilcox,” Auggie snaps lightly.
“She’s a lot like Annie actually, only more petite and with a presence that feels like it’s filling the room, you don’t feel that?” Standing a few feet away from them she can see their expressions now. Auggie knows who Jai’s talking about, probably feels the presence, he’s just making it difficult. Jai is practically leaning over the railing to somehow be closer to the woman.
She takes a proper look at the DPD, catches the woman staring right at her for less than a blink,
“Shit,” she mutters under her breath, watching as the blonde’s right hand moves in a series of complicated motions faster than their cameras would pick up, and psych’s herself up for what’s coming.
“Annie?” Auggie asks, turning to face her, “didn’t hear you coming.”
He wouldn’t have, she was practicing stealth today; her only mistake had been the muttered expletive.
“Hey Auggie, Jai,” she says, grin firmly in place as she takes up a spot on the opposite side of Auggie from Jai, “what’s going on?”
Jai grins at her, trying to continue his not so subtle flirting only Annie’s not playing today. Auggie sighs, “Her.”
“The blonde?” she asks, not wanting to give anything away, she doesn’t know how much today will change everything yet.
“Who is she?” Jai asks, more insistent this time.
“No one knows,” is Auggie’s answer.
“No one?” Annie finds herself nodding to Jai’s question, even she finds that hard to believe.
“Not in DPD, maybe Arthur knows, Joan doesn’t, she wanders through once every couple of months,” Auggie answers, shifting against the rail, “not even facial recognition of security feeds finds anything on her.”
They stare in silence as the woman walks across the room and greats Arthur Campbell with a warm handshake that has Joan glaring in the background.
Two hours later and Annie’s just returning from a coffee run, the second of the day. The room is quieter than usual, though Auggie’s already told them it’s always like that when she’s
here, but still a hive of activity. She passes the last coffee to Auggie who has a facial recognition scan running in the corner of one of his screens.
“I thought you said she never shows up?” she asks, toeing off her Louboutin’s and sitting on the edge of a desk.
“She doesn’t,” he answers, turning to grin at her, “doesn’t stop me trying.”
There’s a sudden flurry of activity across the bullpen, “they’re back,” she mutters to Auggie whilst she slips off the desk and back into her shoes.
“Walker!” Arthur shouts from across the room. Annie walks slowly across the room well aware every eye is on her, wondering how she’s so special, again.
It’s too soon. She’s not been here long enough. She shrugs off her fears and smiles a bright Annie Walker, has no fear, smile.
“Annie Walker,” she says holding her hand out towards Buffy Summers.
“Serena Waldorf,” she answers, taking her hand, there’s something in it, she passes it up her shirt sleeve quick enough no one should catch it with the naked eye.
It looks like no one but Annie caught the mashed up reference; she can almost feel Auggie itching to get searching for Ms Waldorf. She tries not to smile as she wonders how many fan sites for Gossip Girl he’ll come across before he gives up.
“Walker,” Arthur says again, with Joan shifting in the background, “my office, now.”
They walk along the corridors of Langley in silence, people shifting around them full of curious stares. It’s just the four of them in the office; Annie, Serena
, Arthur and Joan. Must be some kind of a paradise for Arthur; three gorgeous blondes in his office.
“Take a seat, Annie,” Joan says, leaning against Arthur’s desk as the man himself takes his seat. Only Serena remains standing, alert.
“You’re wondering why you’re here,” Arthur says, no question, just a statement of fact. He grins, the one that always reminds everyone in the DPD that he hasn’t always sat behind a desk, “So am I.”
“Annie,” she can see the worry in Joan’s eyes, “whatever this is about, you always have a choice.”
Annie tries not to laugh, she knows that her life never has real
choices. Instead she nods, her eyes wide.
“Serena works for... another agency,” Arthur begins; she can see him trying to step around the facts as she knows them. She relaxes an inch, barely noticeable to Arthur or Joan, nothing's blown today.
Serena shifts slightly and all attention is on her, “I need to borrow you for a day or two Annie, a little joint agency co-operation is needed here.”
“Why me?” she asks, as she is expected to do.
“You fit the profile better than I do,” is the only answer she’ll get until they are well away from Langley’s eyes and ears.
They leave the building without going back through DPD, for which she is relieved - this is all going to be difficult enough when she returns; if she returns. That’s always a risk in her jobs.
They take Buffy’s car, the one that comes with a driver, and leave Annie’s little red number in the lot. The CIA wouldn’t dare bug Buffy’s car.
“Ready for a little workout, Annie?” Buffy asks once they’re on the road.
“Sure,” she answers, a real grin on her face.
“You can get rid of that now,” Buffy says, gesturing to her shirt sleeve.
“Oh, right,” Annie says as she slips out the device from her sleeve, the little bugs Willow had developed that do multiple are you really you?
Forty eight hours later they’re driving back past the security barriers at Langley, a little bruised but no one’s seriously worse for the ware.
“You’ve got your story straight?” Buffy asks, looking her in the eye.
“Officially everyone knows I can’t say anything. Unofficially it was a co-op op; you needed a blonde with my language skills. It went as normally as any of my ops. End of story,” she shrugs.
“Great,” Buffy smiles, “and when they ask about the mysterious Serena Waldorf?”
“It’s not your fault your name is a mix up of two TV characters; no I can’t tell anyone much; yes, you seem nice; and really not good with languages, not even your own,” the last says with a smirk.
“Hey!” then the indignant look on her face turns serious, “remember Annie, what you’re doing here is important.”
“I know,” she answers, she really does.
“We’ve always got you covered when you can’t believably get yourself out of a mess,” Buffy says as a parting shot before she gets out of the car.