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[Post Finale] ... whoo
What to do?, Tightlipped
freshoffthefarm
Amsterdam had been a nightmare.

Between finding the tracker that they'd dug out of Eyal's thigh to actually planning to be beaten up in public in order to land herself in the Embassy's infirmary, Annie was fairly certain that she, Auggie and Eyal had really only managed to survive the ordeal by the skin of their teeth.

Running, being shot at and boat jumping, not to mention the part where she'd hunted a known terrorist down on her own and pretty much convinced him to go kill his own father... it had left her exhausted. By the time the plane landed back in DC, she wanted nothing more than to sink into a hot bath and sleep for twenty-four straight hours.

Thankfully, she knew someone with an exquisite bathtub. And even better? That person would have been furious if she hadn't gone to see him first.

So, it was with no small amount of pleasure that Annie took her bruised and battered body over to Clayton Webb's house at five in the morning and knocked.

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And that's what made Webb realize something was going on, "Is everything okay?"

Whatever that errand was, it was more than just an errand.

She'd tried the lack of explanations and wasn't too surprised it hadn't worked. He was a spy, he was naturally suspicious.

"Of course," she said, hanging her bag up. "Danielle needed something for the house notarized, so I told her I'd get it done for her here, rather than all the scanning, faxing and overnighting that it'd be otherwise. No big deal, I just took a little longer getting ready than I thought I would."

As if to emphasize this, she winced.

Clay didn't believe her, not for a second. But this was going to be their relationship. He couldn't share everything with her and she couldn't share everything with him. He wasn't going to push it. If Annie needed to tell him, she would when she could, if she could. The best solution was to change the subject.

"I decided on Thai...I hope that's okay."

Well, the wince was real enough.

"That sounds incredible, actually. I'm starving," she told him. "I haven't really eaten today. I just slept through. It was one of those kinds of days." Reaching for plates, she handed him one, then followed it up with a fork. "How was your day, honey?"

She smiled, trying to make it as domestic sounding as possible.

Clay chuckled as he unpacked the bag of take out from his favorite place. The same place he met her near when she was running from the spy museum. Then he opened a bottle of wine and settled into a chair around Annie's table.

"It was fairly run of the mill until I saw Henry Wilcox in the hall. He still bothers me."

"Henry Wilcox?" Annie looked up from her plate with a confused expression. "What's he doing at Langley?"

The confusion was real, but the pause had been unintentional. She knew just how much - well, maybe not just how much - Henry bothered Clay, and she ignored the guilt spiking in her stomach.

"I assume he went to Jai's Declassification ceremony. Why he stayed so long afterword is beyond me."

Clay poured the wine and started on his meal, "Out of prison and at Langley already. It's unsettling."

Annie had gone to the ceremony, too, but that wasn't what was bothering her. She shook her head.

"You'd think that would have been part of commuting his sentence - staying away from the Agency and everyone in it."

"We can't be that lucky."

Wilcox, as far as Clay was concerned, was bad news. The fact that he got off of a treason charge scott free made things worse. The man still had connections.

"Someone should really do something about him."

It won't be Annie, unfortunately. For the time being, she has to play nice with Mr. Wilcox, if only to find out what his endgame is. It won't be the first time, or the last, that she's played with evil. It will be the first time that she's played with evil directly connected to Clay, and she doesn't want to talk about it with him. She knows what he'll say.

Clay took another sip of his wine, "I hope Arthur gets a chance."

It was really all he wanted to say on the subject of Henry Wilcox. Tonight wasn't really about him, it was about them.

"How's the food?"

"Can Arthur really do anything? I mean, isn't it up to the D-CIA?"

When Clay changed the subject, Annie took the hint and motioned to the plate in front of her with her fork. "It's really good. You did good." She smiled at him. "Thanks for dinner, Clay. And the wine. You always seem to know exactly what I like."

Clay nodded in response. It was the Director's place to take action but Arthur could pull some strings, he hoped. The DNI could also say something, but he had far bigger issues on his plate at the moment.

"We just have similar tastes, that's all."

With everything that was going on, Annie was just going to keep her mouth shut. She wasn't sure that she wanted to keep her association with Henry a secret, but she knew that she had no choice. Until she knew what was going on with Joan and Arthur, she had a feeling that she was safer keeping her mouth shut.

Experience had taught her that.

"That's not a bad thing. You have impeccable taste."

"Which means you do too. Not that I had any doubt." Another smile for Annie, "I still wear those cuff links you bought for me in Russia."

Perhaps it wasn't the best time to bring up that country after everything. But he liked to think that on that particular trip the good outweighed the bad.

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