Chapter 7
"Yeah! What is that, some secret woman form of retaliation? The woman is fully trained in several forms of martial arts and kickboxing, yet she resorts to throwing a New Balance for revenge."
Chapter 7: Reach Out and Touch Someone
"I hate to do this to you, man, but we're gonna have to get directly to work when you get back on Friday." Weiss leaned back in his chair and checked the clock. 3:55. He had been racking his brain for three hours straight, without a single solution to the problem at hand. He didn't want Caitlin to have to seduce Valdez, but what other options did they have? If she tried to infiltrate SD-3 any other way, Valdez would get suspicious. The fact that he knew Caitlin and was aware of her CIA employment made it all the more difficult. He wouldn't buy that she wanted to switch allegiances, especially after what he had done to David Brandt. Even the seduction plan was going to be difficult to pull off, considering it all hinged on how highly Valdez esteemed himself as a "ladies' man".
"Hey, no problem," Vaughn replied. "I understand that we're under a time constraint here. Besides, I've been gone for nearly a month, time to catch up."
"Yeah, how did you manage that month-long vacation in the first place? I mean, I know you're quite the charmer, and everybody knows you’re a good-looking kid," Vaughn laughed at that comment, "but I'd think Devlin would be immune to your particular form of persuasion."
"Well, threatening to quit usually gets you whatever you want. I just told him that I was burnt out, and that my mom had gotten us these hotel rooms for our anniversary, and it would be a shame to waste such a gift." Vaughn paused for effect. "And when THAT didn't work, I sent in the wife. Devlin may be immune to my charms, but Sydney's pretty tough to resist."
"You're telling me," Eric cracked. He glanced up when he heard a throat clearing at the doorway. Speaking of women who are tough to resist, he thought ironically. "Hey, Sinclair. I'll be ready to go in a minute, OK?" She nodded, clearly still pissed that he had insisted on chauffeuring her in the first place.
"Hey, is that Caitlin?" Vaughn's voice took on an inquiring tone.
"The one and only," Weiss replied.
"Hand her the phone, will ya?" In truth, Vaughn was dying of curiosity where Caitlin was concerned. He knew of no other women that could tie Eric in knots as effectively as she had in a few short weeks.
"Come again?" Weiss didn’t know why Vaughn wanted to talk to Caitlin, but he was vaguely positive that absolutely nothing good could come of it, if he knew his friend.
"You heard me. Just for a few minutes."
Eric raised his eyebrows at Caitlin. "It’s for you." He handed his cell phone to her.
She took the phone, flashing a "what the hell?" look at Eric, who simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Hello?"
"Agent Sinclair, this is Michael Vaughn."
"Ah, the famous Agent Vaughn. Or should I say infamous?"
"OK, whatever that goon has been telling you about me, it’s completely untrue."
"So you aren't Michael Vaughn, the handler who set the Central Intelligence Agency on its ear by marrying the agent responsible for the destruction of SD-6?" she drawled sarcastically.
Vaughn laughed. The girl had spunk, he liked that in a woman. "Well, that's true enough, and I've never regretted it for a second. Although three years later, and many miles away, I can still hear Devlin chewing me out about it. 'A handler marrying his agent. What an insidious breach of protocol.' "
"That it is, sir, that it is. Shame on you." Under normal circumstances, Caitlin wouldn't be this flippant with a man whom she didn’t really know, and whom in fact was her superior. But Michael was Eric's best friend, so she expected that he was used to a bit of sarcasm now and then. Besides, there was something about Michael Vaughn that set her at ease, emanating across the miles and through the phone line. "How's the big Paris vacation?"
"It's been great, but I think we're all ready to come home. Especially Sydney, my wife. I think she's sick of me ribbing her about her horrible French accent...hey! Ow! Well, honey, it's true!"
Caitlin snorted. "Let me guess, she threw a shoe at your head."
"Yeah! What is that, some secret woman form of retaliation? The woman is fully trained in several forms of martial arts and kickboxing, yet she resorts to throwing a New Balance for revenge."
"David hates it too." She winced at what she had just said. Some days, she had to remind herself that David was gone, for good. No more jokes, no more shoes being thrown. "Um, my old CIA partner. I used to do that when he insulted my Spanish."
Vaughn made a noncommittal sound in his throat. He didn't know how much to say regarding Brandt; Caitlin might not be too happy knowing that Eric had told him how David had died. "Ah, Agent Brandt. I never had the pleasure, but he sounded like a great guy. I'm truly sorry for your loss, Agent Sinclair."
"He was a great guy, a great agent. Thank you." She cleared her throat, simultaneously clearing her mind temporarily of the memories, and took a seat somewhat shakily in the chair in front of Eric’s desk. "Um, so I hear you're headed to Colombia with us."
"Yeah. I have to back my buddy up on this one, make sure he doesn't wreck everything," he said jokingly. Actually, Vaughn had every faith that when push came to shove, Weiss could pull off whatever he tried to accomplish. Buried beneath his cheerful, sarcastic surface was a work ethic to die for and, more importantly, a determination to protect those he cared for. Which, at least from what he could observe, included Caitlin.
"I feel for you. Stepping off a plane one day, getting back on one a few days later. Jet lag can be a killer."
"No big deal. Back in the day, when Sydney was a double agent, she had to fly all over the world at merely a couple of hours' notice. If she can do that, I definitely can...even if I’m not as tough as my exceptionally beautiful, intelligent, clever wife."
A female voice came on the line. "Yeah, yeah, he says that to all the girls. It's that French playboy side coming through. Agent Sinclair, I'm guessing?" Sydney was just as curious as her husband when it came to this woman that was making Eric crazy. Well, crazier than usual.
"Please. Caitlin."
"Nice to meet you...well sort of meet you. I'm Sydney, but I'm guessing you figured that out."
"Yeah, I gathered. Did you get him good with the shoe?"
"He's headed for the aspirin, so I think so," Sydney quipped. "Hey, are you planning on coming with Eric to the airport on Friday?"
"Not that I know of." Am I supposed to be? she asked herself. Hell, this day had been so confusing that she almost didn’t know which way was up, much less what her plans were for the end of the week.
"Well, I was just thinking that since you, Eric, Ethan and Mike need to have a meeting anyway, you might as well come to the airport with Eric. Then we can all go back to our house, have dinner, and then the four of you can get to work. Plus, you have to meet Christian."
"I saw a picture of him, he's precious."
Sydney laughed. "So it seems, in photographs. The real life Christian is a bit more, shall we say active. Hang on a sec...Mike says that as your superior, your presence is officially requested."
"How's that for a browbeating? Well, let me check with Eric...uh, Agent Weiss." Sydney smiled at the name change, since it so effectively showed Caitlin's attempt to keep professional around Eric.
"Weiss...Weiss! Earth to Yo-Yo King." Eric’s head snapped up guiltily. He had, in fact, been playing with his yo-yo. Caitlin smiled. Just a big kid at heart. "Agent Vaughn has ordered me to accompany you to the airport on Friday. Something about him not trusting you to get there on your own."
"I'll have you know, Sinclair, that I am very adept at navigating airport traffic. Only once have I shot someone as an act of road rage."
"Twice," came Michael's voice from the phone.
Caitlin shook her head. "I don't know, Weiss. Jury says twice. You're a downright menace to society."
"Give me that." He snatched the phone from her hand. "Who's the menace, man? You're the one harassing a woman you don't even know."
"Just trying to get you some action, Weiss. God knows you could use the help."
"Smooth, Mike, very smooth. Look, I have to go. Say bye, Sinclair." He held the phone out to her.
"Bye, Sinclair!" Caitlin said into the mouthpiece. She heard both Vaughns laughing as Eric shook his head and hung up the phone.
"Cute. Very cute." He grabbed his jacket. "Can we go, please?"
"Yeah." She slid into her coat, pulling her long hair out of the collar.
"Quite the day, huh?" He asked her as they walked toward the parking garage.
"You can say that again. Hey...I don't remember if I said it earlier, but thank you. For the Chapman situation and...for everything." She was sure that her cheeks were bright red, remembering just what "everything" had entailed.
Eric paused next to his car. "Look. There's a lot I have to say about, well, everything that happened today. But you're exhausted, so let's get you home, in a hot shower..." Now, she noticed, he was the one blushing. "Ooh, that came out wrong. I meant you can take a shower alone, because of course you'd be alone, because, uh..."
Because he was babbling, which she thought was adorable, and mostly just because she felt like it, she wrapped her arms around his waist in a friendly hug. "You’re a trip, Eric Weiss."
He ran his hand over her hair. "I’m aware of that." They broke apart somewhat awkwardly, and he went to the passenger side of his Explorer to get the door for her. Neither noticed the figure lurking in the shadows, watching every move.
~*~*~
"Come on in," Caitlin said to Eric as she unlocked her front door. He stepped inside, looking around the living room. The place felt like her, not too frilly or girly, just the right touch of femininity. The walls were a soft blue, the floors hardwood. A plush, inviting, cream-colored sofa sat in front of a large bay window that looked out on the street. Photos scattered around the room gave it a very personal touch.
"Very nice. You've done pretty well for only being here a few weeks."
Caitlin tossed her keys onto the coffee table. "Thanks. Unpacking is one of my least favorite things, but I made a concentrated effort this weekend and got it all done."
"By yourself? Didn't you have anyone to help?" Inside he was cursing himself for not having offered his assistance when she first came to town.
"Well, all of my family is back in Austin, and the only people I've really met here are either CIA or the neighbors." She took her coat off, hung it on the coat rack, and then motioned for Eric to hand her his jacket.
"I wish I'd known sooner, I would've recruited Ethan and we could have helped you."
"No big deal." She sighed, pulling her hand through her hair. "I know that we need to talk, but first I'm going to take that shower. Why don't you call and order a pizza?"
"Sure. Any preferences?"
"Doesn't really matter, but I'm a large pepperoni kind of girl. Help yourself to a beer, watch TV, whatever. See you in a few minutes."
He watched her walk down the hallway. Large pepperoni. I knew I liked her. Then he grabbed the phone, convincing himself that it didn't matter that an extremely beautiful woman, that he just happened to be crazy about, was only a few doors down. In the shower. Quite probably without clothes on. "You're sick, Weiss," he muttered to himself.
20 minutes later, Caitlin came out of the bathroom and walked to the kitchen, where Eric was standing at the counter making a salad. And, she observed bemusedly, making friends with her cat. "See, furball, apparently my doctor thinks I don't eat enough vegetables. He doesn’t seem to agree that French fries are enough vegetables for a grown man. So step right up, ladies and gentlemen, Eric Weiss is about to eat, *gasp*, a salad. Of course, it'll be doused in ranch dressing and followed by an extremely large, cheesy pizza, but the value is still there." Caitlin crossed her arms and leaned against the entranceway, watching Eric talk idly to Bogart. She discovered, much to her confusion, that she liked how he looked in her kitchen. He looked comfortable, like he belonged there. She wondered how this strange, goofy, wonderful man had so seamlessly slipped into her life, her kitchen, her...heart?
"His name's Bogart." She enjoyed watching him jump slightly at the sound of her voice.
"As in Humphrey?"
"Yeah. 'Furball' just didn't have the same ring to it."
"I guess not." He turned around, leaning against the countertop and crossing his arms over his chest, unknowingly mirroring her position. "I hope you don't mind that I rummaged through your fridge a bit, I thought we should have some nutritional value to the meal." He couldn’t help himself; he scanned her up and down. Her skin was still slightly pink from the heat of the shower, her face refreshingly devoid of all makeup. He'd never known that a simple tank top and pair of drawstring sweats could look so good. If possible, she looked even more beautiful than normal...and exactly WHEN had he become such a sap?
She grinned, surprisingly pleased that he was checking her out. "Not at all. How long on the pizza?"
"Should be another ten minutes or so." The doorbell rang. "Or now, I guess." She went to pay for the pizza, and he turned to finish the salad. "You will not jump the woman, you will not jump the woman," he pep-talked himself.
She came back, carrying the steaming pizza to the table. "C'mon, Salad Boy, let's eat." He brought the salad and dressing over, as she went to turn the radio on low and to grab herself a beer. They both sat down and helped themselves to the pizza.
"OK, so now that we both have food in front of us, and you’ve had a chance to relax a bit, will you answer a few questions for me?" Caitlin nodded. "Alright, wildly unprofessional question first. Why did you try to push me away this morning? And don't say because you're just not attracted to me. You don't kiss someone like that without some feelings involved."
She took a deep breath. "You're going to think this is stupid, and weak."
"Try me."
"Because I was scared, OK? Here's this fabulous guy, that I've only known for a few weeks, that makes me feel things I swore I was too cynical to feel. I was scared of you, of how crazy my reaction was when you kissed me. I lost track of where I was, what was going on around me. For a CIA agent, that’s not only foolhardy, it's deadly. And...I'm terrified that because of me, something terrible is going to happen to you."
He was dumbfounded. She really thought that she was a danger to him? "Caitlin, nothing's going to happen to me. I'm not going anywhere."
"But what if Chapman was right? What did he call me, a Black Widow Agent? Maybe it's true. Look what happened to David."
"You know and I know that that wasn't your fault. Honey, I'm not in danger just by being around you. And even if I were, I'd take that risk because..." He didn’t quite know how to word what he wanted to say. “You’re an incredible woman. And I think we've come across something that doesn't happen every day. And I know that we're bound by the CIA protocol, but right now I just want to think about you and me. We owe it to ourselves to give that a chance. The only thing I'm in danger of is..." losing his heart, he wanted to say, but he settled for, "walking out that door, without at least convincing you to give us a chance." He looked into her gorgeous blue eyes, silently pleading for her to agree. In the silence, the music from the radio wafted around them.
Tell me that you live for love
And that forever is never enough
That you've waited all your life to see
That you want somebody to believe
Tell me that it's not just me
She came to the conclusion that he was right. They did have something out of the ordinary. And as much as it would kill her if he got hurt, she would die inside just as effectively if he walked out of her life. "OK."
He couldn't believe it. "OK?"
She nodded. "But we have to be careful. If you let yourself get killed, I'll wring your neck."
He grinned, leaning in toward her. "Got it. How about we kiss on it, Sinclair?"
The phone rang. She stood up, laughing at the expression on his face. "You'll get yours, I just have to get the phone first." Still chuckling, she answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Agent Sinclair. How nice to hear your voice after all this time."
Posted by Carrie on 06:49 AM