Chapter 18
"One thing you'll learn, working at the CIA. Around here, some rules can be bent. Others can be broken."
Chapter 18 : Long Slow Beautiful Dance
One Month Later
Eric knocked on Caitlin's front door. There was no answer, so he tried the knob and found it unlocked. Pushing the door open, he called, "Marco!"
"Polo!" came Caitlin's muffled voice down the hall.
"Marco!" he called again, walking toward her bedroom.
"Polo!" she replied, laughter in her voice. "I'm in the bathroom."
He entered her bedroom and popped his head in the door of the adjoining bathroom. She was standing in front of the mirror in her robe, applying her makeup. "Hey you," he greeted her. "Nice outfit. I'm sure the promotion board will love the bathrobe ensemble."
"Is that your not-so-subtle way of telling me to get dressed?" she asked teasingly. "If you want to be helpful, rather than being your usual pain in the ass, you can grab my dress for me. It's hanging in the closet."
"Sure thing." He walked around her dresser and opened the closet, locating the black dress. "Caitlin?"
"Hmm?"
"What happened to all your clothes?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your closet's at least half empty."
She stuck her head around the doorjamb, grinning fiendishly. "You're right. Whatever am I to do with all that space?"
He shook his head. "You know, by now I should be used to being confused."
"Weiss, you are so dense. You have clothes, right?"
A slow smile spread over his face as realization dawned. "This is for me?"
Caitlin grabbed her dress out of his hand. "I figure you're here enough, you could keep some suits or whatever in the closet so you don't have to drive back to your place every morning." She looked at him nervously. "Is that OK?"
Not bothering with a verbal reply, Eric grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. He hiked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "I guess that's a yes," she whispered as he walked to the bed and leaned her back. "We're going to be late."
"Your point?"
"Um," she said distractedly as he kissed her neck. "It'll be worth it."
Half an hour later, Eric tied his bowtie while balancing his cell phone between his shoulder and his ear. "Where are you, Weiss?" Vaughn said irritably on the other end. "This banquet is for you and Caitlin, you're getting a freaking promotion, and you're not even here."
"Tell Devlin we had a bit of an...emergency," Weiss replied. "Oh and Mike?" he said smugly as Caitlin walked out of the bedroom, putting on her coat.
"What?"
"Screw your drawer. I got a closet." He hung up the phone to the sound of Vaughn's laughter.
Several months passed. The two grew closer, learning that simply falling in love and being in love were two very different ideas. Falling in love, while not easy, had been as natural as breathing. Being in love required effort, and involved a lot of missteps along the way.
Weiss sat on the couch, helping Caitlin tape her ribs. "Honey, you've got to stop doing this to me."
She winced at the pain. "Yes, I can see how this is incredibly difficult for you. I'm the one in pain here, I'd like to point out."
"It's what you get for trying to take on a guy twice your size," he retorted, feeling angry at her for reasons he didn't quite understand.
"He was in the way of my mission. I was doing my job, Eric."
"Right, I get that. When the hell does it stop?" At her look, he sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that, I never fully understood the torture of loving someone whose job requires her to be in danger all the time. I do now."
"Look. I promised myself a long time ago that when I started a family, I would seriously consider changing my profession." She laughed as his eyes widened. "I don't say that to scare you. I'm not implying anything. That's just always been the cutoff for me. I quit the CIA when I have something, namely a family, to quit for." After rechecking the bandages on her ribs, she rebuttoned her shirt. "But to be honest, I didn't expect to fall in love with a wiseass comedian so soon in my career. It changes things a bit." She gave herself a few seconds to deliberate what was tumbling around in her mind. "OK, I'll make you a deal."
"What's that?" he asked, genuinely unsure of what she was about to say. His mind was still firmly stuck somewhere in the "family" part of her spiel. Family. What if...?
"I'll talk to Devlin and request he take me off constant active duty."
"Caitlin. You would do that?"
She nodded, letting the idea take root. "I'll always love this work, this agency, but I think my need to be involved in life-or-death missions died that day with Valdez. Maybe I could be an analyst, or a translator."
He wrapped his arms around her, letting her lay her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."
"So can we talk trade?" she asked, her voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.
"Meaning?"
"You don't exactly have the safest job in the world either, Eric."
"Well, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Apparently the higher-ups are pretty pleased with my work lately; there's been talk of another promotion. Low-level administration, not much, but it guarantees that the worst injury I'll suffer on the job is a nasty paper cut."
She smiled widely. "Eric, that's fabulous!"
"Yeah, well, it won't be as exciting as my current job, especially recently," he teased, chuckling as Caitlin stuck her tongue out at the intended slight, "but there will be a considerable pay raise."
"Good. You'll be able to support me in the fashion I plan to become accustomed to," she ribbed back at him. "Six words, Weiss: diamonds are a girl's best friend."
He rolled his eyes. "Noted." He tried to conceal from her the plan he was beginning to form. Noted.
~*~*~
"And that's it. Welcome to the L.A. branch of the Central Intelligence Agency," Caitlin said to a group of trainees as they finished up their tour. She had been surprised at how much she enjoyed the work Devlin had assigned her since her retirement from the field. Upper-level analysis, with the occasional stint as a tour guide—yeah, she could live with it quite well. "Any questions?"
"Caitlin," Vaughn called from down the hallway.
"This is Agent Michael Vaughn, everybody," she said, directing her smile at Vaughn. "What's up?"
"Not much," he replied, not quite meeting her eyes. "I was just coming to see if you wanted a cup of coffee."
Caitlin crossed her arms on her chest and leaned onto her left leg. He might be a great agent, but he was a horrible liar. "Right. Cut the crap, Vaughn." The group laughed at her bluntness.
"Trust me. You want to come with me to get a cup of coffee," he said mysteriously, his green eyes twinkling.
She shrugged her shoulders in defeat. "Whatever." She directed her attention back to the trainees. "Come on, you can get acquainted with the delights of the CIA coffee bar."
They all walked down the hall, the trainees engaged in idle conversation while Vaughn remained uncharacteristically quiet. When they were in view of the coffee machine, Caitlin slowed and looked. The counter was swept of everything but a large bag of Folgers coffee, a bow and a folded piece of paper attached to the top.
"I believe that's yours," Vaughn said, trying not to grin too widely. Not yet. Let her be surprised.
Eric, what have you done? She smiled apologetically to her group and walked to the odd present. She opened the letter and began to read.
Caitlin,
When I first told Mike I wanted to do this today, he quoted a French proverb his mother used to use all the time: "Love teaches even asses to dance." And I guess I'm living proof of that. I first met you at this coffee counter exactly a year ago and Caitlin, I've felt like dancing every day since. It may not always be pretty (as you well remember), but it stems from a love intense enough to surprise even you. I love you. And the next time I dance with you, I want it to be at our wedding. I want to twirl you around the floor to some cheesy romantic tune and tell you of all the things we'll do together. I want to take you to a desert island for our honeymoon and get started on that family that you mentioned. I see our life together as one long, slow, beautiful dance, and I can't wait for the music to start playing. So today, in the place where we started...
Caitlin blinked back tears, but couldn't keep them from splashing onto the paper. She spun around, watching as Eric pushed through the crowd of people, fiddling with a small velvet box.
"So today, in the place where we started, will you agree to marry me?"
The tears fell freely on her cheeks. "Do you think you could handle being married to a sarcastic ex-spy?"
His face lit up, unshed tears springing to his eyes. "Only if you could handle being married to a pudgy smartass."
"I'm sure I'll adjust," she said shakily. "And just so you know, the pudge is very sexy."
"I knew there was a reason I loved you." He reached out to wipe the tears from her eyes.
She glanced at the box he still held in his hand. "So, do I get the ring?"
"What? Oh, yeah. Of course," he said, clumsily opening the top and revealing a square-cut diamond set on a platinum band.
"It's...wow." Caitlin gaped as Eric slid the ring on her finger.
"Diamonds are a girl's best friend, right?" He brought her hand up to his lips and brushed a kiss on the ring finger.
"Right. Talk about your taxpayer's dollars at work." She grinned at him and threw her arms around his neck. "Love you."
"Love you more, Sinclair." To the thunderous applause of the crowd that had gathered, he bent his head and kissed her.
One of the trainees leaned over to Vaughn. "Are they allowed to do that?" he whispered.
Vaughn smirked in reply. "One thing you'll learn, working at the CIA. Around here, some rules can be bent. Others can be broken."
end
Posted by Carrie on 12:11 PM