Stars and Stripes Forever (Rated M)

[Mir]

The man in uniform walked down the hallway, his movements crisp. Military precision. That was his modus operandi and he saw no reason to deviate after a life of military service. The medals on his chest bore out the results of that life and that precision. He turned down the hallway, continuing through until he reached the office of the director. It wasn’t everyday he was called into the office of the director of the CIA, but this was one of those days. He stopped at the desk, waiting. The director’s assistant checked him in and he walked over to the row of chairs and sat.

“You know, you can relax a little.” A man said, sitting in the chairs as well.

He turned towards him. He saw the man was sitting, but maybe lounging was the better description. “I’m good, but thanks.” He said.

“This is the CIA. I think blending in is part of the job.” He said.

The military man smiled, saying nothing. His blue eyes shifted back to the wall as he waited.

Time passed and eventually the assistant gave him a look. “He’s ready for you.” She said and he rose, heading into the office.

The director was in front of his desk, leaning against it. He smiled, extending his hand. “David, you didn’t have to get all dressed up.” He said, as David Waller and the CIA Director shook hands. “We’re much more laid back than dress greens.” He added.

“Habit of the trade, I’m afraid.” He said.

“Well, Captain Waller, that’s one of the reasons why you’re here. Please sit down.” He said, gesturing to the chairs in front of the desk. After Waller sat, the director smiled, folding his arms over his chest. “So, why do you think you’re here?” He asked.

“I don’t think it’s recruitment.” Waller replied. “If I was being recruited I think it’d be a little less direct. The Company still works in the shadows on a lot of things.” He said.

The director nodded, so Waller continued. “I was thinking maybe you wanted me to train some people at the Farm. But that didn’t make too much sense either. I’m former JSOC. I’ve been attached to Delta as well as SEAL Team Six. I didn’t get a chance to work directly with the Nightstalkers. But you know all this. If I was being brought in to help train, you still wouldn’t have approached me like this.” He said.

“Right, this was an official meeting. On the books so to speak.” The director replied.

“So…I must admit, I’m at a bit of a loss.” Waller said.

The director unfolded his arms, moving around the desk and sat down.

“We want you to kill someone.” He said.

“Who?” Waller asked.

“Well…you, to be quite frank.”

[Mir]

“That…makes no sense.” David said with an uncertain smile. He glanced, uneasily around the room. It was a pretty straight forward looking office, a little old timey. That didn’t mean that there weren’t ways for this room to be bugged or monitored. He looked over at a wall of bookcases, thinking he was going to see a camera hidden among the books.

No, that’s not how the CIA worked.

“I’m sorry but you’re going to have to explain this one to me.” He said.

The director nodded, walking over to a bar and pouring them both a few fingers of scotch. “I totally understand your reservations.” He said, handing one of the glasses to Waller. “What I’m asking sounds really weird to say. But it’s what we’d like you to do.”

“You know, that didn’t actually clarify anything.”

The director laughed. “Yeah, I know. Okay, so what’s going on is you know a lot of the activities of SHIELD. They’ve got Freedom squad, they’ve got Gamma squad. But those are both teams that operate in the light. Where there’s light there’s a lot of darkness. A lot of shadow.” He said, smoothing out a wrinkle in his suit jacket. “What we’re interested in is putting together a team of people that operate in those shadows. As you said, the Company does work in the shadows a lot. You’ve got the experience, you’ve got the record.”

David nodded. That at least could make sense to him. He knew he was capable and he knew he was qualified. However, his mind drifted back to an earlier part of the conversation, as the director had referenced it himself. “But if this was what you and the Company wanted to do, why are you approaching me like this? This is a conversation in a bar or in someone’s car late at night. Not in your office, an official meeting.”

“Sure, but that’s part of the charm. If we simply straight out recruited you, the fact that you had this meeting would be a bit weird, I agree. On the other hand, if we organize something here you seem to be deceased, and we let some time pass, then we should be in the clear.”

“I’d be tied to the CIA forever.” David said.

The director walked over to his desk, opening a folder. David saw it was his jacket, with a photo of him paperclipped to the documents inside. “I know, but the psych evaluation we did on you a few months ago indicated there’s a high chance you were a lifer in the military anyway. You were going to be tied to something no matter what, David. Did you expect you would rise up the ranks and maybe become some kind of political adviser type? Do you want to be in the situation room?”

David looked down at his hands for a few moments, flexing his fingers. “I don’t know, it has some kind of appeal. I wouldn’t mind being in the room where the decisions are made. Not out of some sense of self-importance. You just have the best opportunity to help the guys on the ground. You can influence the decision making.”

“I’m offering you the ability to be in the field and protect those guys on the ground, regardless of what the decision up above is.” The director said, closing the folder and looking up Waller. “Listen, you don’t have to give me an answer right now.” He said. “Think about it, and we’ll be in touch.”

[Mir]

David was in the hotel bar. He had taken a few days of leave in order to make the meeting. He had to get back to JSOC soon, but he figured he could use the time to see a little bit of Washington D.C. in the process. However, the list of people he knew in DC was rather slim, so he didn’t really have anyone to do that with or to visit. So, he found himself alone, in the hotel bar. It was a pretty decent hotel, but nowhere near what the lobbyists and out of town politicians might have stayed in. It worked for what he wanted in life though.

He was nursing a whiskey on the rocks when he realized someone was walking towards the booth he was sitting in. Looking up, he saw a beautiful woman. She looked like a bottle blonde but her brown eyes were rather pretty. They reminded Waller of the mahogany dining table his grandmother used to sit him at to do his homework. Back when his mother used to work doubles to keep the lights on.

The woman was tall, taller than the average woman. Wearing a maroon bodycon wrap dress, it was designed to show off the curves.

“Mind if I join you?” She asked, tucking hair behind her ear and giving him a small smile.

He shrugged, leaning back in the booth. “If you want to.” He said. “You waiting for someone?” he asked.

“No, I’m here to talk to you.” She said.

He raised an eyebrow. Now that was a little surprising. “Do I know you?” He asked, as the waitress came and asked the woman for her order.

She asked for a red wine and sat back in the booth herself. “Not yet. My name is Rowan Chapman.” She said. “I was asked by our mutual friend to talk to you.”

He smiled. “Well, now finally something that makes a little sense.” He said.

“Why, women don’t approach you in bars all the time?” She asked, a grin on her face.

“Back where I’m from?” He asked. “No, no ma’am, they do not.” He said. “Besides, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve been in a bar in a long time. If I’m drinking it’s usually with the guys in someone’s basement.” He said. “So, what our friend thinks a pretty face in a skirt is going to convince me, where he couldn’t?”

“First off, I appreciate the fact that you called me a pretty face.” Rowan said, as the waitress brought her wine. She took a sip from it, after she gave him a salute with the glass. “Second off, I would like to note that this is a dress, not a skirt.”

“My apologies.” He said, gesturing with his free hand. “You’re absolutely right.”

“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get down to business.”

[Mir]

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” David asked.

Rowan leaned in, giving him a smile. “You technically haven’t said no yet, Captain.” She replied. “Besides, we’ve only been talking for about half an hour.” She added. “Not nearly enough time for me to work my charms.”

“Pretty slow then.” He said, as the waitress brought him another whiskey on the rocks.

“Ugh, fine. It’s like you’re asking for me to turn up the heat.” She said.

He laughed. “I’m doing no such thing, ma’am. I’m trying to tell you that I’m not so sure that the director has a winning idea with this one. Some of his others, great.”

Rowan’s lips curved downward. “How would you know his batting average anyway? He’s the director of the CIA. You should barely know what he’s up to.”

He lifted the glass up in a toast. “Touche.” He sipped at his whiskey. “So, why do you think it’s a good idea?” He asked, setting the glass down. “Be honest with me, Ms. Chapman.”

“Deniability.” She said. “Sometimes people have to get their hands dirty and it’s better that dirt falls on other people than some of the shinier toys in America’s arsenal.” She said and made a face. “The world’s arsenal really, when you think about it.”

He looked over at the television, which was playing a Washington Commanders game. He squinted for a second, trying to make out the score.

“Commanders are down two scores, but it’s only ten points.” She said.

He glanced back at her. From where she was sitting, she was in something of a blind spot, tv wise. “You a big Commanders fan?” He asked and she shook her head.

“They’re playing the Panthers, I’m from South Carolina.” She replied. “Broke my dad’s heart, he’s from Atlanta.” She said and he laughed. “What?” She asked.

“Good man.” He said and she grimaced.

“You’re a Falcons fan?” She asked and when he nodded she leaned back, resting her head against the wall of the booth. “Okay, I take it back, this isn’t going to work.” She said. “I’m sure the director will find someone else.” She said.

“I’m being disqualified because I like the Falcons?” He asked, eyes lighting up now.

“Well, you like losing too much.” She said. “Julio Jones, wasted. Matt Ryan, wasted. Roddy White, wasted.”

“Cam Newton, wasted.” He retorted and her eyes widened.

“I’ll fight you right here, don’t think I won’t David Waller.” She said, her voice rising over the mild din of the DC hotel bar. Rowan reached out to lightly flail at him.

He caught her wrist before any damage could be done. “Probably put up a better fight than Cam did against Denver in the Super Bowl.”

“He did better than your defense did against the Patriots.” She said.

He closed his eyes. “Alright that one hurt.” He said.

She smiled. “Think about it, Waller.” She said. “Someone has to be in the trenches. Someone has to get a good block so the running back can get that first down. That’s what the director wants.”

[Mir]

Waller sighed. “I get the point, it’s just more about the doing it aspect.” He said. He watched her brow crease. “The dying part. I have family back home, you know. Not much, but something.” He said.

“I get it.” She said, placing a hand on his. He looked down at her hand on top of his and she squeezed his fist. He dragged his eyes back up to hers. “It’s tough, I get it. But I think the plan was to bring you back to life anyway. Something about a miracle cure.” She said.

“Not very sneaky.”

She shrugged, pulling her hand back. “I may have only been half listening, to be honest. He can go on and on sometimes.” She said and he laughed. “What, it’s true. You’ve only had to listen to him when he’s trying to sell you on something, not when he’s trying to explain something. You’d be surprised.”

He looked over at the game and saw it had entered the fourth quarter. “I think it’s time I headed back to my room.” He said.

“So soon?” She asked and looked around. “The night is young Waller. What else do you have to do?”

“Go to sleep.” He replied. “I like my eight hours and all that.”

“Beauty sleep, yeah, I’m with ya.” She said and gave him a wink. “I can tell it does great things for you.”

“You know I can tell when you’re trying to hit on me, Rowan.” He said.

She made a face at him, like a sigh of relief. Her chest caved in a little as she pressed a palm against her sternum. “You just…” She said and waved her hand in front of him. “You just give off part good ole southern boy part nerdy guy from high school vibes, you know that?” She asked and he nodded. “Okay, as long as you’re aware, that’s really the thing you know.” Rowan said.

“I get it, ma’am.”

“Then there’s that. You gotta stop calling me ma’am. I’m younger than you.”

“You look barely out of college.” He said.

“I am barely out of college, compared to you.”

“So I’m old and I’m country and I’m a nerd.”

She leaned her head back against the booth and groaned a little bit. “Waller, I’m not trying to be insulting here. I can picture you painting Warhammer models. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, just that’s the vibe you give off.”

“Please tell me if I say yes to this that you’re not going to be part of whatever I’m doing.”

“That’s very hurtful.”

“If I give off that vibe,” he said, rising from the table and digging into his pocket for his wallet. He produced a few bills and placed them on the table before finishing his drink, “You’re like a little bird that just mocks me.”

“Like a mockingbird.”

“Like a harpy. Good night, Rowan.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh no you didn’t, mister.” She said, downing the rest of her wine and sliding out of the booth behind him. She must have been around five seven he realized, but she was closer to his height thanks to the heels she wore. “You did not just call me a harpy.” She hissed.

He tossed her a lazy smile. “It sure seems like I did, ma’am.” Waller made his way to the elevator and pressed the button, staring at the metal door as she stood next to him, staring daggers at him, arms folded over her chest.

David wasn’t sure if it was the still relatively little amount of alcohol he’d drank or the dress she was wearing, but Christ in heaven Rowan Chapman was looking amazing. He kept his focus on the elevator and walked in, pressing the button for his floor.

She waited for the door to close.

“You need to apologize.” She said.

“Why?”

“If we’re going to work together this is a terrible way to start off.” She said.

He countered, stealing a glance over at her. Still annoyed with him. “I haven’t said yes.”

“We both know you’re going to say yes, Waller.”

“We do?” He asked with enough nonchalance he was hoping would annoy her further. She’d been giving him shit all night, it felt good to be throwing some of it back at her.

He strode out of the elevator and down the hall to his room. He got to his door and she was right beside him. “Rowan.” He said, looking at the door.

“Waller.”

“Rowan.”

“Waller.”

He turned. “Here’s the thing. Unless you’re also staying in this fine establishment, I think you’re at the point where it could be construed as trespassing.”

“I’m a government agent. I’ll have you know that the director’s exact words were ‘Chapman, stick with him until he says yes,’ so there you go.”

He thought about that for a second. “So if I go in here, you’re going to follow me?”

“I’m duty bound and obligated by virtue of the oath I took to the United States government, Captain.” She said, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t sleep in the nude do you?”

“You gotta be the worst federal agent I’ve ever met.”

“How many have you met?”

“Enough of them.” He said. “I’m not saying yes, I’m saying I’ll think about it.” He said, swiping the keycard. He opened the door and stepped inside, turning quickly. Waller held a finger up. “If you try to follow me inside I will restrain you.”

She weighed her options. She had many choices available to her. She opened her mouth and he cut her off.

“If I wake up and you’re in there, I’m going to be pissed.” He said and thought about it. “If you follow me home, I will get MPs to lock you up.”

She closed her mouth.

“All I want is a ‘yes’, Captain.” She said.

“All you’re getting is an ‘I’ll think about it.’ “ He replied.

“Guess that’s going to have to be good enough.” She said. “But if you ever call me a harpy again, I’ll throttle you.”

He grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind, Agent Chapman.”

She smirked and punched him in the stomach lightly. “I’ll see you when I see you, Waller.” She said and started walking down the hallway.

He was watching her and she looked over her shoulder. “You can look at my ass, I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

“I’m rolling my eyes at you.” He said. “You can’t see it, but it’s happening.”

Rowan bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. “You’re still looking at it.”

“Only to make sure it isn’t coming back towards me.”

The door to the elevator opened and she stepped inside, turning.

They stared at each other as the doors closed.

“You wish.” She said.

In that moment…he kind of did.

[Mir]

Rowan sat, curled up on the little outdoor chair she had as part of her balcony set up. The sun had begun to creep up over the Georgetown buildings. She was the proud owner of a small apartment. Two beds, two baths. Nothing fancy. Well, definitely nothing fancy for DC. She’d seen quite a few places that put her humble little abode to shame without batting a curtain.

Rowan had a warm cup of coffee sitting on a plate, with a croissant joining it. She pulled the dark blue silken robe a little bit tighter. There was still the night chill in the air, able to somewhat bite through the robe and the dark blue silk babydoll. She was reading through an Agatha Christie Poirot book, but her mind wasn’t on the career of the estimable Belgian. No, she was thinking of someone much closer to home, but just as interesting.

Part of her job, besides trying to convince Captain David Owen Waller to agree to the director’s plan, was to get a read on him. Of course, they had his psych profiles and other pieces of intelligence on him. But she had been there to get more up close and personal with him. Could he pick up the shield? Could he lead a team? Could he make hard choices? A combat record told you one thing. Talking to him was another thing.

She’d been flirting with him, intentionally. She had seen a change in his body language from the moment he’d seen her walking towards him. Then, she’d seen another shift when he’d realized why she had wanted to speak with him. Rowan had then turned the charm up, seeing if that was an avenue of attack.

In her short but somehow wildly extensive career in the CIA, she’d come across many a military or former military man. There weren’t that many archetypes for them to fall into. David, by her estimation, fell into a particular archetype she dearly loved.

The man who believed in what he was doing, had a clear cut personal drive, and wanted to accomplish a goal.

She reached out and picked up her croissant, taking a bite.

That kind of man could absolutely lead a team. He definitely could pick up the shield.

The question was whether he was willing to compromise his morals or his principles. Which was why flirting with him had been both business and pleasure. She ran a hand through her hair, smiling wistfully. Good God, he was good looking. She would have had no issue going into that room and doing whatever he asked. That was only a few hours ago, she’d still be in that room.

She was fairly certain she’d communicated that, through her tone of voice, her body language. She’d been sure to initiate physical contact as well. All to see what he would do.

He hadn’t disappointed her.

He’d turned her down. She could tell it wasn’t because he hadn’t wanted to be with her. It was because he didn’t trust her and he didn’t know the lay of the land. He didn’t rush into things. He thought it all through.

Rowan remembered she was supposed to be reading her book as her phone buzzed, unsettling the spoon from where she’d rested it on the coffee saucer.

She didn’t need to look, she knew who it was.

She answered the director’s call and nodded as he spoke. Rising, she put the book down, and drained the coffee cup. There was a momentary pause for a curse as she realized she wasn’t going to be able to savor this ridiculously expensive coffee she splurged on. Such was life. Barefoot, she walked inside the apartment and into her closet, cradling the phone with her shoulder.

Time to get to work.

==--==

Walking into the meeting room in the satellite DC headquarters for the Agency, Rowan still held her partially finished croissant. She would drop things for the director, but not her croissant.

There were two people in the room already. One was a man, sitting at the table. Well, sitting wouldn’t be the best way to describe it.

He was lounging, that was how she would call it.

Though he was seated, she could tell he was tall. Taller than her by almost a foot if she had to guess. She was trying to remember why he looked familiar even though she was sure they’d never met before. Then she placed him. When the director had told her to make contact with Waller, she’d reviewed the footage from the meeting. This was the man who had been sitting behind Waller in the waiting room.

With a short crop haircut, a black bomber and a black t-shirt, he had an air of military, which wasn’t surprising. She could only guess he was wearing black jeans and black boots. Similar but not too different from her blue business suit with thin pinstripes. But apart from the uniformity in attire, she guessed they were not much alike.

Rowan could sense something was off, some kind of…something, under the surface. To her, he reminded her of a constrained bull, ready to shoot out. Her brow furrowed. Whoever he was, there had to be a reason he was here.

She didn’t need to look at the other person in the room. Rowan had recognized her while walking down the corridor. Her brow unfurrowed. Her mouth thinned in annoyance.

The woman was standing by a little table in a corner, mixing sugar into a coffee. She was wearing a much more colorful ensemble than either the man or Rowan. Light blues and yellows mixed together above the waist while below she was wearing green cargo pants that were relatively form fitting. There was jewelry on her hands, and two identical bracelets on each wrist. Her back was to the rest of the room.

“And how are we today, malen’kiy peresmeshnik?”

Rowan grimaced, but hid it as best she could. She was not going to play into the game. She was not. She was not. She was not.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

The blonde, also thanks to the wonders of hair coloring much like Rowan, turned, her eyes showing disapproval. “Now, now, when we talked last, you and I went over a few things, Rowan Amelia. Come now, show me you learned.” She said, her thick Russian accent shining through.

“I already know how to speak Russian.”

The woman sighed, giving her a look. “You learned textbook Russian. Not speaking Russian. The first thing I told you is you need to make it sing. It’s like poetry.”

“Dobroye utro.” Rowan said, forcing a smile that was all teeth.

The woman made a face as if Rowan had, right then in front of her, said something utterly disgusting. Or kicked her dog. Or dragged nails on a chalkboard. “No, no. It’s terrible. If I gave you Pushkin to read out loud, he would think you shot him and not d’Anthes.”

Rowan stared at her.

“Russian poet. Died in a duel, it’s not important.” She said and paused. “Well it is, but that’s not where we start with my culture.”

She looked past Rowan to see the director walking towards them.

“We’ll continue later, mladshaya sestra.”

“I am not your little sis-” Rowan said, further annoyed and patronized and other things she couldn’t put together, but she’d have to figure all that out later.

She took her seat at the long table, ignoring the bemused smile on the seated man’s face, as he’d watched the exchange.

The director sat down, across from the other man. The table was long and could seat ten on each side. The Russian woman sat three seats down on the man’s left. Rowan had sat two seats to the director’s left, keeping as much space between her and the Russian as she could. He looked at the two women in turn. “I hope you both are finished.” He said. He opened the folder he’d brought with him. “How did it go with Waller?” He asked.

“He didn’t say no.” Rowan said and the Russian snapped her fingers.

“I should have gone.” She said. “Rowan Amelia is good, but-”

“But nothing.” The director replied. “I’m not sending a Russian woman to recruit an American Army captain for an American operations unit.”

“Cold war has been over for ages.” The woman said. “We tore down the wall. You asked, we did.”

The director smiled.

Rowan glowered. How was this woman this charming all the time? Some of the time, maybe. But all the time?

“Not a no is not a yes.” The director said, snapping her back to where she was.

She coughed. “Well, that’s true, but I think he’s close to saying yes.” Rowan said.

The director, still looking down at the folder, raised his eyes above his glasses at the man across from him. “I guess it’s time to nudge him in the right direction, Holt.”

Eric Holt nodded. “Sounds about right.”

[Mir]

Rowan stood in the elevator, holding her folders close to her chest. She was trying to figure out what the Director and this Holt character had meant when they had discussed nudging Waller in the right direction. She wasn’t sure what they had been insinuating. Was Holt going to go speak with Waller? Maybe that made sense. He seemed as though he was military. She didn’t know who he was, but the last name was somewhat familiar. She’d heard it bandied about in the past.

Holt. Eric Holt. An exceptional marksman who had difficulty with missing a target. She’d read about aman who had made an incredibly difficult shot with the same last name. This could be him. So maybe the director wanted someone who was former military to speak with David. That made sense.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was definitely something else going on though. The way the director had spoken to Holt made it seem as though he wasn’t just dropping in to speak with David over dinner chow.

Her eyes were in front of her but she wasn’t paying too much attention to her surroundings. Rowan barely registered the Russian woman getting on the elevator with her.

“He’ll be fine.” She said and that was what snapped Rowan back to where she was.

“What do you mean?” She asked, as the elevator doors closed.

“Waller, he’ll be fine. Holt is surgical. He’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”

Rowan’s eyebrows lowered in confusion. What the hell was she talking about? “Surgical?” She asked and the other nodded.

“He won’t hit any vital organs or anything like that, ptichka.” She said. “Besides, why are you so concerned?”

Rowan finally put two and two together and her mind got her to four. “Wait, what is Holt going to do?” She asked, taking a step forward even though the elevator was already moving. She turned to the Russian woman.

“What Holt needs to do. Why are you so concerned?” She asked again. Her eyes widened. “You are attracted to this Waller.” She stated, more statement than question.

Rowan was quick to shake her head.

“No, I’m…He seems like a good person, I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, that’s all.”

“I don’t even know what he looks like.” The Russian woman said and reached out, plucking the folder from Rowan. “Let’s see.” She said, turning as Rowan made a move for the folder. “Ah, ah, ptichka, I want to see who it is that has caught my little sister’s eye.” She said.

“I am not-”

“Oh my.” The woman said. “Now he is very good looking.” She said, handing the folder back to Rowan. There was a glimmer in her eye. “Were you hoping you were going to have to invite yourself into his room to get him to say yes.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Rowan said.

“Not if he was in the gutter.” The Russian woman reached up and tucked some loose strands of hair behind Rowan’s ear as the doors to the elevator opened. She stood in the doorway, keeping the elevator door open. She shot Rowan a little grin. “Don’t worry, mladshaya sestra, if your boyfriend does get recruited, I’ll keep my eyes off him.”

Rowan glared at the closing doors, internally screaming. She was going to beat the shit out of that Russian the next chance she got. But for now, she wanted to know what the hell Holt was going to do. She pressed a button on the elevator to head to the director’s office.

==-==

David Waller was back on base where he felt at home and comfortable. He had exchanged dress greens for his normal OCP uniform. The Captain sat in his office, going over a training exercise plan put together by his staff. Everything looked good and he could see a few minor changes that would need to be made. Overall, nothing too crazy. He was ready to switch over to take a look at the short list of people who had been at sick call while he had been in D.C.

There had been a nasty flu bug going around, but from what he’d been told on the phone during his flight back, it didn’t look as though it had hit his troop that hard.

He was in the process of scanning the sick call report when there was a knock on his door and he looked up. Immediately, he was on his feet, saluting the superior officer.

“LTC Hernandez.” He said.

“Relax, Waller.”

The LTC stepped into Waller’s office and gave a head nod at the chair Waller had vacated. “Sit down, sit down. I wanted to stop in and have a little chat.”

Waller sat back down as Hernandez looked at a map on the office wall. It delineated Teddy Roosevelt’s path during the Battle of San Juan Hill. For a few years, Teddy had called North Dakota, Waller’s home state, his own home.

Was it about his trip to DC? He had a feeling it could be.

Maybe Hernandez was going to counter offer but there really wasn’t, at this time, any upward mobility for Waller with JSOC. Which, to be honest, was fine with him. He was much more of an in the field kind of person versus a more hands off kind of person. Hernandez, he knew, thrived as a theater operations facilitator. He had seen enough of his time on the ground. Maybe Waller would get there one day, but that wasn’t this day.

He was much more comfortable with a rifle in his hands versus a pen that was for sure.

“We’ve been tasked with a special operation.” Hernandez said. “I need you and the boys ready to go in a few hours.” He said. “Details on the plane, but I can tell you the country is in LATAM.”

Waller nodded. “You need us, we’re there.”

“It could get ugly, it’ll be weapons hot, but shouldn’t be anything you all can’t handle.” Hernandez said. He extended a hand. “I don’t like putting you in harm’s way but…”

“That’s the nature of the beast.” Waller said, shaking his commanding officer’s hand. “You can count on the unit.”

==-==

Rowan walked into the director’s office and he gave her a look from where he was standing in the corner. He had been working with some kind of record player and took the needle off of the old blues record. “What can I do for you, Agent 19?” He asked.

“Sir, I know it’s not really my place, but what did you mean when you told Holt that Captain Waller needed a nudge in the right direction?” She asked.

“We tried the carrot. Now we try the stick.” He said.

She stared at him. “That’s not really that clear at all.”

He smiled, opening his arms. “That’s the CIA. Now, I didn’t expect you to be able to convince him. I thought maybe you could and it was worth a shot. But I also wanted to see what kind of a man Waller was and he passed the test. He could have let you seduce him, but that’s not what he’s after. He wants more. I want to offer him more. He simply doesn’t realize what the offer was.”

“That’s all fine, but what is Holt going to do?” She asked.

The director sighed. “I gave actionable intelligence concerning a drug smuggling ring in Colombia to JSOC. I asked them to task a unit to infiltrate and subdue the ring. We’ve received permission, under the table of course, from the Colombian government for this operation.”

“How are you sure that Waller’s unit would get tasked?”

“JSOC and Delta, they work on rotating schedules. I purposely sent the invite to David when I knew his unit’s number would be coming up. Operational readiness and all that. I just needed to make a subtle request, that’s all.” He said, sitting down at the desk. “Listen, Agent Chapman, I appreciate your concern for Captain Waller, I do. But I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.”

“Not when you still want to recruit him, you mean.” She said, evenly.

“I thought that was obvious.” He retorted. “Chapman, we’re always on a delicate balance. On the edge of the knife, dancing our lives away while we spin plates on sticks. You know what I know, the world is not a safe place unless there are safeguards in place.” He held up Waller’s file and she saw the Captain’s photo paperclipped on the front. “This man offers us an amazing chance to do great work. It would be a disservice to the people of this country and the rest of the world if we did not put him in the field. His current refusal is because he doesn’t understand the bigger picture. Holt is going to change that.” He said.

“How?” Rowan asked, ultimately repeating the question they both knew the director was dancing around, to continue his imagery.

“Holt is one of the best snipers on the planet. I’ve never seen him miss. If he has, I’d be shocked. He’s going to do what he does best.”

“I want to be there.”

He smiled. “Camaraderie on the team already, I love it.” He said, and dropped the folder, reaching out to pick up the phone on his desk. He pressed a button and waited. “Agent 19 will be accompanying Holt.” He said, keeping eye contact with Rowan. “Make sure there’s a spot for her.” He placed the phone back on the receiver.

She waited a moment. “Is Holt going to kill U.S. citizens, U.S. service members in order to make sure Waller wants to join the CIA?” She asked, deciding it was time to go the straight blunt route.

“No. He knows his orders.” The director said.

She nodded and turned to leave.

“Rowan.” He said. He rarely used her first name, causing her to turn back. “I understand from our Russian friend that you may have developed feelings for Captain Waller.”

She faltered.

“That’s fine.” He said. “I don’t care. But we both know that a time will come where I may ask you to something you’re not comfortable with. I need to know where your loyalties lie.”

“With the Agency.”

“Good luck.” He said and she left.

He waited a few moments, hand still on the receiver. He lifted it and pressed a different button.

“Noah, Chapman’s in the field.” He said. He smiled. “Waller and Chapman are going to make a great team.” He said, nodding. “I completely agree.”

[Mir]

Waller was back in his small house. Located just outside of Fort Bragg, recently renamed to Fort Liberty, his house was quite modest. He wasn’t there that often, so he hadn’t invested much into creature comforts. Additionally, there wasn’t much that he needed by way of those comforts. It seemed to suit him well. He had a duffel bag and he was tossing a few things in it. The bug out bag he normally kept near the door had most of the things he would need. However, Hernandez had mentioned a country in Latin America. So he wouldn’t need any snivel gear.

Throwing the duffel bag over his back, he was walking to the front door to grab the bug out bag when his phone buzzed. Digging into his pocket, he pulled it out to see who had sent a text.

Whatcha up to?

He stared at the phone. Who the hell was RC?

Waller sighed, realizing who it was. He grabbed the bag and headed out to his car, throwing them in the backseat as he texted her back.

How the hell did you put your number in my phone?

I don’t know why you’re bothering with such silly questions, Cap’n.

He started the car and started driving, unable to help himself from smiling. While an unwanted distraction from the task at hand, there was something endearing about Rowan finding a way to put her number in his phone. Endearing but also a reminder of who she was. Also, rather creepy.

I’m blocking you.

That’s not very nice..

I’m in the middle of something.

Deets.

Classified.

I’ve got TS clearance.

He rolled his eyes as he waited at the stoplight. Putting the phone down, he went back to driving, leaving her on read until he was back on base.

I’m headed out for a few days. Please delete my number.

You’re going to miss the Falcons lose to the Niners. Though that may be reason to leave the country, I suppose.

It was almost enough to earn another eye roll.

Her next text came through before he could respond.

Be safe.

He told her he would and put the phone away as he walked into the unit’s ready room.

It wouldn’t be for a few more hours, when he was on board a C-130 and without phone service that he realized he hadn’t told her he was leaving the country.

==-==

“Talking to your boyfriend?”

“I’m single.” Rowan said, giving the man sitting next to her a look.

“Sure, but you’re checking your phone every few minutes.” Eric Holt replied. His eyes were closed but apparently he could see through his eyelids.

They were seated on a flight currently traveling at high speeds, thanks to Agency technology towards Argentina. They would get there far faster than Waller and his team. The jet was cloaked and with the speed they were going at, she was amazed she could drink from the bottle of water, without issue. You’d think the whole contraption would be shaking and rattling in order to reach those speeds. Rowan adjusted the Panthers cap she was wearing as she moved over in the seat. Though they weren’t close together, it still made sense to get further away from Holt.

There was just something about him.

It wasn’t that he was creepy or anything, something just felt off.

“What’s your story?” She asked, putting the phone away and deciding she might as well engage in some kind of conversation with him. Maybe figure out what was wrong with him and see how she could deal with it.

“My story?” He asked, his eyes still closed.

“Everyone’s got one.” She replied.

“I’m Canadian.”

She tried to stifle a laugh and failed.

Now his eyes opened and shifted towards her.

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s so funny about that?” He asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” Rowan replied, holding a hand up. “You just don’t seem like you’re Canadian.”

“Why?” He asked, evenly.

She shrugged, trying to find a way to put it nicely. Then she decided what the hell, might as well rip the bandaid off. “You seem like you’re comfortable watching weird videos on YouTube.” When Holt rewarded her words with a grin, she tried to explain further. “What I mean by that, and I mean it nicely and respectfully, is that you seem like you’re not watching cute beaver videos. Maybe it’s a little bit closer to violent stuff.”

“You realize we kill people for a living.”

She nodded. “That’s correct, but I don’t watch that stuff in my down time. Also, I try to kill as few people as I absolutely need to.” Rowan said. Her fingers itched, as her mind forced her to flash back to the first time she had done something like that. The back of her neck prickled next.

Holt sat forward and then turned towards her. “I don’t watch that kind of stuff.” He said. “I watch anthill castings and woodworking videos.”

“So mass murder.”

Holt laughed as he got up and walked to the small minifridge in the cabin. On top of the fridge was a small selection of alcohol and he inspected the collection.

“Drowning your sorrows in alcohol won’t help Holt.” Rowan said.

Eric turned, holding up a bottle of Maker’s Mark. She shook her head and he twisted the top off of the bottle, bringing a glass back with him. He poured a healthy few fingers of the amber liquid and tossed it back without a problem. “I am so surprised that this quirky girl next door routine didn’t work on Waller.” He said.

“I’m not trying to convince you to do something.” She replied. “But thank you for calling me quirky.”

“So you’re like this all the time?” Holt asked, pouring another drink.

“Full of life?” She asked and he shrugged. “Anyway, besides being the weirdest Canadian I’ve met, what’s the story?” Rowan asked.

“Nothing.” He said. “I grew up in the middle of nowhere in Canada. Eventually, I joined the Canadian military. Top marks as a sharpshooter. Did a few things hand in hand with the US military and got recruited.” Eric said. “Not everything has to be that deep, Rowan.” He said, finishing the drink.

“You sure you should be drinking before you’re going to be handling firearms?” She asked, eyeing the bottle.

“Waller will be safe.” Holt replied, stretching out and closing his eyes again. “He’s a big boy.”

[Mir]

Waller brushed some unseen dirt off his FN SCAR. He looked at the rest of the section of the Unit with him. There were two other Blackhawks carrying the rest of the team. The briefing for the mission had been, rather brief, no pun intended. There was a HPI in Colombia connected to a drug cartel. They had received actionable intelligence from the DEA and the CIA working in conjunction with the State Department. Their goal was to do a little disruption and take out the person. Waller leaned back in the seat of the Blackhawk and closed his eyes.

Lord, I ask for your protection today. Not for myself, but to allow me to keep my men alive. They have families. They have children. Please, send us your angels, send us your protection. Let me keep these men alive.

He recited the prayer he had written up when he first took command of a unit, some years ago. He had the unfortunate honor of having to lead men into harm’s way. Waller was a religious man, as far as a non-denominational faith in God went. He had long ago made peace with the idea of dying in combat. He didn’t have a wife or kids. His mother would be sad, but she understood what he was doing and why he was doing it.

No, the one thing that would bother him if he ever died on the field of combat was if he died without ensuring his men were safe. He’d probably have a few arguments with God if that were the case. The primary obligation, as far as he was concerned, was keeping his men alive. Obviously, they needed to complete the mission, but that didn’t mean going in guns blazing.

“Sir, we’re in the field.”

His eyes opened as he heard the words from the Blackhawk pilot over the comms.

They were in the fight now.

Waller looked at his GPS system. They weren’t too far out.


==-==

Rowan lifted the Panthers ball cap off of her head and flexed the curved bill as she sat in the TOC of the CIA substation in Bogota. She had booted feet up on a folding table, a bottle of water in front of her. Had to stay hydrated. She also had a laptop on the table, open. The intel they had on the area was on the screen, along with the estimated forces on the ground. In front of her on the walls were panels of monitors and she was watching in real time the events unfolding in the Vaupes Department of Colombia.

David’s team had landed in Brazil and was entering Colombian airspace from the east. Three green triangles on the screens represented the three Blackhawk helicopters. Meanwhile, a blue dot represented Holt, who was in a small technological wonder of a hover vehicle. He was already in position, near the site that David’s team was hitting.

She looked around for a coffee machine but figured it was good she couldn’t find one. The caffeine probably would not be good for her system. On the surface, she was calm and collected. On the inside, she was nervous.

On the one hand, she knew David’s team would be safe. They were highly trained and they were the best of the best when it came to the US military. You didn’t become part of Delta Force unless you knew what you were doing. At the same time, she fully understood that no plan survives contact with the enemy. Further, she didn’t know how much she trusted the Director or Holt.

“Holt, come in.”

“I’m a little busy, princess.” He said back over the comms.

She glowered at the sat phone in her hands. “Stop being an asshole.”

“How else do I keep up this belief of yours I’m the most uncanadian Canadian?”

“You know, it should be your intention to dissuade me from that notion.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

She looked over at one of the screens in the room, as some of the CIA techs in the room worked on keeping track of everything. “David’s unit is in Colombian airspace.” She said.

“That’s good to know. I’m glad you’re here with me. I’m not sure who would have told me that otherwise.”

“Eric, sweetie, I want to ask you a question.” Rowan said. “Assuming you’re good at your job and the Director is right and David joins the team, we would all be working together right?”

“Sure.”

“If that’s the case, wouldn’t it be smarter to be nicer to me?” She asked.

There was a pause.

“You have nice hair.”

She stared at the sat phone. He’d actually given her a compliment.

“That means a lot.”

“The Panthers suck though.” He said.

“Canadians don’t know anything about football, I don’t blame your ignorance.”

She was going to say something further but he interrupted her.

“Hold on a second.” He said. “Didn’t the intel say that the little camp they were hitting wasn’t that well equipped?” He asked.

She frowned and swung her legs off the table. Scrolling through the screens she pulled up the satellite map of the compound if it could be called that. It really wasn’t. It was a tiny little camp hollowed out of part of the Amazon rainforest that was within Colombian borders. “There’s not supposed to be much. Why?”

“They’ve got rocket launchers.”

==-==

From his position, Eric could see the camp. He was a little bit higher up, on a slight ridge poking up out of the ground despite the swampy rainforest. There had been a sentry up there, but he hadn’t given Eric too much trouble. He could see down into the camp and he knew they did not, in fact, have any rocket launchers. Sliding out of the hovercraft, he went to the back and opened the trunk. He pulled out a long rectangular box and opened it.

“What do you mean they have rocket launchers?” Rowan said over the comms.

“I’m looking at a rocket launcher right now.”

Inside the long box, was a rocket launcher. He technically wasn’t lying.

He pulled it out and loaded it, lifting it to his shoulder. The thing was a special Sapphire Development design. It had longer distance in exchange for a lesser payload. But he wouldn’t need much, he just needed to get a hit.

Luckily, he also hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d told Rowan he had been a good marksman.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Rowan.” He said and tossed the sat phone to the ground, missing her reply.

He smiled.

“Welcome to the team, Captain Waller.” He said, aiming…and firing.

[Mir]

David’s eyes opened with a start as he came to.

There was shooting pain throughout his body and he immediately tried to check his body for wounds. Muscle memory thanks to years of training and practice kicked in. He knew he needed to check himself. The memories were foggy but he remembered a flash of light and fire. The next thing that registered with him was that he could not properly check himself as he was handcuffed to the bed. Visually, he could see bandages on his chest and abdomen. With that removed as an option, he went to the next thing.

Where are you?

He looked around and saw he was in some kind of a hospital room. The hospital didn’t look too advanced though. It was a bit dirty and dingy. He wasn’t sure where he was and more importantly, who had him handcuffed to the bed. He knew he wasn’t going to stay handcuffed though, not without a fight. Straining against the cuffs, he worked to see just how strong they were. Quickly, David found out they were indeed rather strong and he was going to need to figure out a different way out of here.

While he was doing that, pain wracking through his body, the doors to the room opened and three men walked inside. There was another who looked like some kind of a doctor. His only thought process there was that this one was the only one who wasn’t carrying a rifle. He did have a side arm on a hip holster.

They were talking in Spanish.

So he was probably still in Colombia. Okay that was a start.

“Who are you?” One of the men with rifles asked. “We want answers, now.”

Training kicked in again. Delta operators went through rigorous training including a stint at the JFK Special Warfare Center and School. There, SERE was burned into their brains. Survive. Evade. Resist. Escape. The first thing to do was survive.

He remained silent and one of the others pressed the butt of his rifle into David’s stomach, pressing against one of the bandages. The handcuffed man winced in pain as he saw stars, but he stayed silent. It could make things worse, but he refused to give in.

“If you won’t talk, you will be killed.”

“I’m not telling you what you want to know,” David replied, in Spanish.

“We already know you’re American. That much is obvious. We can tell you were the one in charge.”

The third one nudged one of the others in the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Sooner or later he’ll get hungry.” He motioned at the one without a weapon as they all left. “Sucks you gotta keep him alive.”

David waited for a few minutes after they left and then started working on the handcuffs again. He had to find a way out of there. Working in his favor was that the handcuffs weren’t made with the best material. Working against him was pretty much everything else. He had no leverage, and his strength was not up to the task considering his physical state. David shifted in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He slowly worked out a possible plan. It would require some craft maneuvering. Additionally, because of whatever wounds he had to his midsection, it would require a great deal of pain tolerance.

Nothing earned ever came easy, though.

He moved again, coming higher up in the bed and towards his right side. Sliding his left leg up, David ignored the fresh wave of shooting pain and bent his knee. He had to get his leg really high up for this to work. He had been going about it wrong.

The handcuffs may have been strong, but the bed frame they were connected to was definitely older and not made of the same metal. He started kicking at the handcuff where it was connected to the frame itself. It took a little time but eventually the metal broke. The cuff slid off the piece of the frame and he seized it.

One good soldier with one good right hand.

The whole world can change.

He took the section of metal and shoved it where the left cuff connected to the frame.

Now he had leverage.

This went a bit faster than the previous bit, but it still took a few minutes. David tried to get off the bed but the exertion had taken a lot out of him and he fell to the ground. He struggled to his feet, leaning against the bed frame. Scanning the room, he looked for something, anything that resembled painkillers. Bottles and other things fell to the ground as he moved haphazardly through a few supply closets. He found a few bottles and stumbled through the Spanish. David tossed a few back and kept looking. Those would take some time to kick in and he needed something a bit faster.

He found it with a bottle of morphine. He grabbed the bottle with the clear liquid and found a syringe. About to draw it into the syringe, he stopped when he heard a loud bang outside, followed by gunfire. Then there was an explosion in the distance.

The doors flung open and the three from before came in.

They saw him and surged towards him. David tried to resist but he was grabbed and hauled, feet dragging on the ground. “Let’s go, get him out of here.”

He was pulled into the sunlight and had to squint to see. He recognized the compound from the sat photos he had reviewed as part of the mission briefing. He was still in Columbia, but he was in the compound that had been the target. So what the hell were they afraid of?

Suddenly, a round shot through one of the soldiers and the change in weight distribution caused the others to drop him. He fell to his back and turned on his side, watching as another round went through another soldier’s chest.

He didn’t know if the shooter was friend or foe, but he was going to take advantage of it. David turned to all fours and started crawling, looking for cover. He was damn near a bunch of barrels when he was turned over onto his back by the final soldier. The man had his rifle aimed at David’s chest.

There was a whistling sound before a knife embedded itself in the back of the soldier’s head. David got out of the way as the body fell and he looked to see who had thrown it.

There was a blonde woman running through the compound, an FN P-90 in her hands. She wore a white chested suit with gold trim that had black on the shoulders, arms and outsides of her legs. There was some kind of goggle situation that had a similar color scheme. She was firing the submachine gun. His brain was foggy but he knew something didn’t compute. The earlier rounds had been heavier, as if from a sniper rifle.

She ran straight towards him and his eyes got wide.

Finally, David realized who it was.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked.

“Saving your ass, David Waller,” Rowan said, sliding. She grabbed him and used the momentum to pull him behind the barrels with her.

“How the-”

“I’m magic, and don’t you dare ever forget it.” She positioned herself using the barrels as cover and started firing. “Holt, you got us?”

He didn’t hear the reply as whoever she was speaking to was plugged directly into her ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I got him. You can see I got him, you asshole.”

She looked over at David and through the goggles he looked straight into her eyes. He saw the concern and the worry. She placed a gloved hand, gingerly, on his chest. “He’s not looking good. We need an extraction.”

“My men,” David managed, everything that was happening starting to catch up to him. The adrenaline was fading.

“Stay with me.”

Rowan tapped some things on some forearm controls on her suit. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“What about my men?” David asked.

The concern on her face shifted to sympathy.

And he knew.

He had failed them.

[Mir]

David lurched upwards. An unfamiliar view surrounded him, again. But now he was armed with the anger of what had happened. Wherever he was, it was darkened. There were floor lights and a few overhead ceiling lights built into what looked like bulkhead compartments. They were all dimmed though, making it difficult to fully make out his surroundings.

He had different medical leads attached to him and he was about to get off the bed, when a hand came from behind and dropped onto his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder at a man he didn’t fully recognize but seemed familiar.

“The fuck are you?”

“Relax, man,” Eric Holt said, softly. “You get up like a bull in a china shop, you're going to wake up blondie and she’s going to be pissed at me.” He pointed and David followed Holt’s finger.

Right on the other side of him…wherever they were, David saw Rowan curled up on a chair, asleep. She had a blanket curled around her, her Panthers ball cap on her head. “Trust me, the last thing I want is her to be pissed at me. She won’t be pissed at you.”

David relaxed a bit. If Rowan was here then he knew wherever he was, he was a bit removed from immediate danger.

“You didn’t make it easy on us, you know.”

“What happened?” David asked, dropping his voice to match Holt’s near whisper as the other man dropped into the matching chair of Rowan’s, just on David’s right side.

“Not sure exactly. We were tasked to follow your team and provide overwatch in case anything went awry. The Director really likes you,” Holt noted and then shrugged. “Not as much as Chapman, but that’s kind of tough to beat.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘provide overwatch’? We weren’t told the CIA was going to be involved.”

“Sort of how these things go. Need to know basis. I was on the ground, I’m handy with a sniper rifle. Rowan was in the substation, not too far away, providing point. Your helicopters got hit by rockets.”

“They didn’t have rockets.”

“Maybe the intel was faulty?” Holt offered. “Either way, I had a ways to go to get to the compound and Rowan booked it like a cheetah playing fetch. We pulled you out of there, but I’m not able to confirm what happened to your men.”

David sank back into the mobile medstation bed. “I failed them.”

Holt shrugged. “We know the risks.” When David shot him a glare, Holt shrugged again. “I’m former JTF2,” He said and David knew what he was referring to. Canadian special forces, the Canadian equivalent to his Delta operators. “I’m not saying it’s ideal, but it’s what happens.”

His eyes lifted up and saw Rowan stirring. “Listen, you’re on a jet traveling really fast, back to the States. Director’s going to make that pitch to you again. Hear him out.”

That was when David put two and two together. This was the guy who had been in the waiting room when he had gone for that meeting in DC. He also remembered Rowan’s text message. She had known he was leaving the country. They had been keeping tabs on him.

“I’m going to make myself scarce.” Holt rose, his eyes on Rowan who was now fully waking up. “Don’t tell her we were talking, she wants you to rest. She might throw something at me.”

David turned to Rowan as Holt left the room.

Her brown eyes finally blinked open from underneath the Panthers cap. They saw him and widened, almost to an impossible size. He could see it, even in the darkness. Despite the pain, he was reminded of their interaction in the hotel hallway.

He hadn’t said this, for obvious reasons, when they’d met. Rowan Chapman was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. He could have been on death’s door, and apparently he was, but he would still make note of that. When she had been walking towards him in that hotel bar, he’d been floored. Thankfully, he’d been sitting down.

The concern on her face upset him, and he wasn’t sure exactly why. Sure, she was beautiful but there were beautiful women. Why did he feel this need to smooth out the frown on her face, despite the pain he was going through? He did know that he would go through another round of all this if it meant getting that look off of her face.

“Oh my God, you’re awake.” She surged out of the chair towards him. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” She asked, looking at the monitors before looking back down at him.


“I’m fine.”

“You gotta be freezing. I told that idiot to put a blanket over you.” She reached behind her for her blanket, but he caught her other hand by the wrist.

“Really, I’m fine.”

Even in the darkness, David could see the worry on her face. She was biting her lip. “I thought you were going to die. You lost a lot of blood and the transfusion didn’t seem as though it was going to be quick. I’m not the best with first aid.”

He laughed because the image in his head of Rowan trying to start an IV line was just too damned funny. “The idea of you poking me with a needle is not something I want to think about.”

Now she knew he was okay, she punched him in the stomach, near some of the bandages. He winced in pain, coming close to yelling. He did manage a wheeze and a cough. He looked up at her with surprise and she glared at him in response.

“You fucking idiot, you almost got yourself killed. Why are you so dumb?”

He rolled his eyes. “Maybe the CIA should provide better information on whether the drug camp I’ve been tasked to take down has rocket launchers, Agent Chapman.” He coughed again. “That would have been nice.”

“Well, right now, what would be nice is if I could strangle you. However, you look like a kicked dog, which is the only reason I am not going to strangle you.”

She had a weird fascination with strangling. Or at the very least, strangling him. This was not the first time she had threatened to choke him. She looked away, staring at the wall. He could see tears springing into her eyes. This driving need to take care of her kicked in again. He squeezed where he still held her wrist, pulling her back to him. “Rowan, I’m going to be alright.”

“We don’t know that. You still have shrapnel in you. We’re going to have to operate when we get back. All Holt and I did was stabilize you. Honestly, I don’t know how you’re even awake.”

Why was he trying to soothe her? It should be the other way around. But somehow, the only thing he wanted to do was to make sure she stopped worrying about him. “Good ole southern upbringing. I try to remember some Warhammer lore and think about how tough those guys are.”

She laughed, unable to stop herself, and brought her free hand up to swipe at her eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Or you’re going to strangle me to death. One of the two.” He decided to throw Holt under the bus. “Holt said, I’m going to get pitched again.”

Her eyes flared. “Why is he an insensitive jerk?” She asked, rhetorically. Rowan calmed down after a second or two. “Yes,” She said, composing herself. “We would really like you to reconsider your previous no on the topic. We did just save your life after all.”

“Well, job’s not done, for starters. Shrapnel, remember? But also, I didn’t say no.”

“You didn’t say yes.” She pulled her hand away and lifted her cap, smoothing out her hair before replacing the cap. Rowan sank down into her seat, pulling one of her feet up onto the seat and clutching her knee to her chest. “Do you really not want to hang out with me that much?”

“You are a bit of a ha-”

“What did I tell you would happen if you called me that again?”

“I’m a kicked dog, ma’am.”

“I hate you.”

[Mir]

Rowan supported Waller as they walked off the small jet. Now in the light, he had to admit, he was pretty impressed by it all. He had never seen anything like it, and as a Delta operator, he had been privy to a lot of cool tech the government had. That being said, he was less impressed by the man waiting for them in the hangar. The CIA Director was standing there, speaking with Holt.

“This guy really doesn’t take no for an answer, does he?” He mused.

“I’m only saying you should hear him out.” Rowan said, uncoupling from underneath him. She gave him a look when he gave her a look. “What?” She asked. “David, we both know you can do a lot for a lot of people. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“I wasn’t doing it alone. I’m already part of a team.”

There was more left unsaid. About how that team had just been killed and they both knew he held himself responsible. There was something else too, about whatever it was that was growing between the two of them. However, where their thoughts diverged was on that topic. Rowan was trying to figure out why he couldn’t trust her when she had shown him nothing but kindness and warmth. David was trying to figure out why he wasn’t trying to accept everything Rowan was offering. What was his hang up?

He didn’t have time to dwell on the thoughts, to try to work through them, as the Director walked over and Holt leaned against some crates. He didn’t have time either to figure out how he was walking after what had happened to him. He should, by all rights, still be on his ass on that bed.

“Captain, I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I appreciate the assistance.”

The Director flashed a smile and looked over at Rowan. “Well, we had Agent 19 on the case, there was no doubt you were in good hands.”

“Agent 19?”

“My official callsign.”

“It’s not harpy?” David asked and the director chuckled.

“No, actually it isn’t. Though that’s not a bad idea.”

Rowan glared at the two of them, running a hand through her blonde hair as her brown eyes flashed fire. “If these are the terrible suggestions you’re going to bring to the table, David, I think we should be re-evaluating whether you’re a good fit for the team.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying. You guys don’t deserve my ideas.” He turned back to the Director. “Harpy though, you can use that one for free.”

“Agent Chapman’s actual designation is ‘Mockingbird’, so you were in the avian family.” The Director reached out and placed a hand on David’s shoulder. The height difference between them made it a little awkward. “Captain, you’re walking but you need surgery to properly get the shrapnel out. Allow us to do that. But also, please, really consider joining with us. My condolences on what happened in Colombia. We’re already working with the Colombians on that. We’re going to make sure those drug smugglers don’t get away with it.”

“I appreciate the condolences. At this moment, I don’t really care what happens with the targets. I care about recovering the bodies of my men.” David’s back had gone a little rigid and Rowan could tell he was upset and doing his best not to outwardly show he was mourning.

She wanted to console him, to reach out, to touch him. To let him know she was here and it would be okay. But the Director’s words earlier, in his office came back. She wasn’t going to let anything else be visible.

David looked down at the ground. His head turned and he made eye contact with Rowan. “What would…what would joining this team entail?” He asked.

The Director’s eyes lit up. “I’m glad you asked.” He walked over to a table where a military grade box rested. “We want you to take leadership of a special operations team the CIA is putting together. Mockingbird is on the team. You’ve already met another member, the sniper who saved you, Eric Holt. We have another as well. This team will be conducting various missions both home and abroad, in concert with the FBI and other agencies. The mission will be ensuring the safety of the United States and her allies around the world.”

“I already do that with Delta.”

The Director grinned. “Not like this, you don’t.”

He opened the box and David could see what was inside.

“You gotta be shitting me.”

Rowan shook her head. “We’re not.” She walked over to the table and reached inside. There was a uniform in there, muted reds and blues mixed with a darkened white. It was more the uniform of a clandestine operative than overt agent. He couldn't tell, mainly because he hadn't really gotten a good look at Rowan's suit, the Agent 19 suit he guessed it was called, but it looked to be a similar build and make as hers.

The Director said. “There’s also the serum.”

“The super soldier serum?” Waller asked and the Director nodded.

“It’s a two part process. You actually received the first half already, it was in the transfusion Holt gave you. Don’t get upset with Agent 19, she wasn’t privy to that part.”

Rowan had lurched around and now in hindsight realized that while she had started the IV line for the transfusion in the jet, it had been Holt who had set up the bag of blood and other medicines to stabilize David.

“That’s why you’re walking despite taking the hits you took,” The director added, answering a question that had been on David’s mind. “Even if you say no, consider that a gift from me to you. It’s relatively useless without the second part, so not like I’m out anything giving it to you.”

“I want some assurances.”

The Director opened his hands. “Name them, I’m all ears.”

“For starters, I want guarantees that the Agency will recover my men’s remains and return them to their families. I don’t want anything being used as some political bargaining chip. Next, I want to know I have complete autonomy as leader of this team. If I don’t like what we’re doing or going to do, we don’t do it.”

The Director nodded. “Done and done.”

“Rowan is the second in command.”

“I already was, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Rowan’s eyes showed some mirth as she tried, desperately, to contain her excitement. She was so close to getting what she wanted.

David’s eyes rested on her. He knew what was swaying him the most towards making one choice versus the other.

“Deal.”

[Mir]

Rowan closed the door to the rental car, adjusting her sunglasses. She had a smile on her face as she flew down the highway, away from Savannah-Hardin Regional Airport. Located in southern Tennessee, the airport was tiny but had served her needs just fine. The wind was blowing through her hair, Rowan had the top down on the convertible. She had pulled her braid out, wanting to feel the wind. The smile she had on her face couldn’t be dimmed for anything. There was simply no way. She was looking forward to the next few days.

She had time off. Which, all things considered, was a precious commodity. Technically speaking, it wasn’t time off, as she was still working. Rowan was here for a work related thing. That’s not how she was choosing to look at it though. No director, no Holt, no Alina (thank God). No missions, no briefings, no analysis work.

Waller had gone through the operation to remove the shrapnel and rounds he had taken. He needed to recuperate for a few days before he could get the other half of the Super Soldier Serum. She had wanted him to stay in bed but the doctors had told him he was ambulatory. Apparently, remaining in the hospital while he was in surgery had not instilled in him any desire to listen to her. So she had been completing after action reports on Columbia. So what? She had still been there. But would the man listen to her? No. However, considering where he had decided to go, with all the options he’d had, she couldn’t be that mad at him.

He had decided to take that time off by visiting his mother.

Rowan had decided, or been asked depending on who you spoke with, to accompany Waller. She had made up her mind to invite herself when the Director had asked her to keep tabs on Waller. David had protested but she had given him a solid seven and half out of ten glare and he’d wisely decided to shut up about it. The nerve of him, when really she was only doing her job.

Now she was going at a speed that would definitely get her a speeding ticket down a relatively deserted highway, on her way south of the airport and close to the border between Mississippi and Tennessee. She had her buttery soft leather weekender bag in the backseat, along with a 30L Herschel backpack. Rowan had opted for comfort on the plane and wore dark blue jeggings and a white shirt with an unbuttoned one pocket oversized blue and white thick pinstriped corduroy shirt. Sleeves rolled up. Black converse Chuck Taylors completed the look.

Her phone rang and she connected it to the bluetooth as she saw who was calling.

She made her voice as saccharine as she could, which was a bit difficult considering the speed she was driving and the effect on the wind.

“Rowan Chapman speaking.”

“You can still turn around, you know.”

She grinned as she heard Waller’s voice. Someone had been paying attention when they had been told her flight information. “Not on your life, Davey boy. There’s no way I’m missing this.”

She couldn’t hear his sigh over the wind whipping past her, but she could definitely hear the frustration in his voice.

“Why do you want to come to a farm in the middle of nowhere in Tennessee?”

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time asking me this question, Cap’n. A chance to meet the woman who had to raise you and deal with you for years and years? I’m so excited, Davey.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Can’t. Too excited. I’ll be there in like twenty minutes.”

“How fast are you driving?” His tone was more incredulous now.

“I don’t know, I’m an agent of the CIA, the rules of the road are more suggestions. I’ll talk to you soon, babes.”

She ignored whatever he was saying in reply, hanging up. The grin on her face widened. This was going to be a handful of magical days. Rowan let out a laugh as she kept driving.

==-==

Roughly twenty minutes later, Rowan pulled into the long driveway leading to the main house. The farmhouse was big, which was kind of surprising as from what she understood, David’s mother lived alone and tended the farm herself. There wasn’t much acreage of farmland in usage left, but the land itself was almost fifty acres. The house area was pretty cool. Rather picturesque and reminded Rowan of some of the more farmland areas of Goose Creek.

The house was two stories with a point roof, straight out of a magazine about farm houses. Painted a deep blue, the color was slightly faded, but the paint job was still rather new. The house had white trim and a wrap-around porch. She couldn’t lie, it was the kind of house she wanted down the road, when she got out of DC. It reminded her of where she had grown up.

The Rowan of today might go for the creature comforts of the city but she was a much more simple woman at heart. Sure, her closet was full of designer clothes and silken things. She enjoyed great restaurants and traveling and her great coffee and delicious croissants. There was something magical about reading her books on her balcony as the sun came up in the mornings. But man, there was something equally magical about a great looking farmhouse that was ancient and had old wooden floors that sometimes creaked in the winter.

No matter what though, she absolutely needed a wrap-around porch like this one.

The house was set up on a slight hill. To the left, while facing the house, there was a dirt yard and then a three car garage with a loft space above it. Further back but in between the garage and the house was a barn looking building. Maybe they used it for storage. It was a bit of a distance back but she could see there was a tractor and what looked like a person walking around it.

As she drove up, she realized it was definitely a tractor and it was definitely partially disassembled and she knew the person working on it.

Standing in front of it, his back to the driveway, was David Waller. He was wearing black jeans and black work boots. He was also wearing a gray sleeveless undershirt. She had seen a lot of Waller’s upper half when she had been cutting his uniform off of him and starting the IV line. But…that had been in some kind of darkness on board the jet.

Here he was in the broad daylight, grease stains on the shirt, his arms, and on a rag he was using to wipe his face with.

Jesus, he was ripped and he hadn’t even had the full serum yet.

Her mouth went a little dry and she almost rear ended a beat up Dodge Ram she assumed was his mother’s car. She was only human. Boy, would the Russian want to see her right now, she was almost drooling. Rowan got a hold of herself and got out of the car.

Waller was cursing and kicking one of the tires.

He was still a bit away from her and she was going to call out to him, when the front door to the farmhouse opened. She turned and wanted to kick herself the same way Waller was kicking the tires. Waller’s mother, a gorgeous looking woman who appeared to be in her mid fifties came out, waving. She was wearing a white and blue flowery blouse tucked into blue jeans. She could see where some of Waller’s facial features had come from.

He had his mother’s nose and some of her cheekbone structure. He’d definitely gotten his dirty blonde hair from her too.

She descended the steps, holding her hand out, a smile on her face. A dog, a black mouth cur, came bounding from inside the house, running between the woman’s legs.

“You must be Rowan, Agent Chapman.” Her voice was gentle, with a southern lilt to it that was magical. Her voice alone reminded Rowan of memories she had with her grandmother. “David said you were coming today.” She said as she reached Rowan and the two shook hands. “Are you a hugger? I’m a hugger.”

Rowan absolutely was a hugger and embraced the older woman. “I’m so happy to be here, Mrs. Waller.”

“Oh, it’s just Miss. Never married. This is Goliath. Well Goliath II but Goliath.”

“Goliath?” Rowan asked as she crouched and said hello to the dog who shoved a nose in her face. It took her a second or two. “Oh, David and Goliath.”

“Pretty much. David named the first one and got a kick out of it, so I kept the same thing for his successor.” Distracted, she looked over to where her son was still working on the tractor. “Speaking of, he seems to have gotten into a tizzy over the tractor.”

She eyed the man a bit back with an annoyed look on her face. He was supposed to be resting, even if he had bounced back from everything pretty quickly. “He couldn’t stay in bed like he’s supposed to?”

David’s mother had to laugh. “Rowan, I’ve tried for years to get that boy to listen to me properly. Last night over dinner, I mentioned the tractor was being a little difficult, and in the morning, he had already started working on it. He took a break to do the rest of the things that needed doing in the mornings. Things I normally do. Then he went right back to that tractor. He sees a problem and has to try to fix it.”

She’d picked up on that fairly early on about him and deep down she knew it was something she liked about him. “I do apologize,” Rowan said, rising back up. “But David didn’t tell me your name.”

His mother smiled. “Probably because he’s been cranky about you coming over, even though I told him it was fine for his friend to visit. My name’s Amelia.”

Rowan tore her eyes from David, as they widened. “Really?” She asked and Amelia nodded. “No way.”

Amelia wore a puzzled look. “Why?”

Rowan pointed at herself. “That’s my middle name.”

“Well, isn’t that just funny.”

“My parents really liked Amelia Earhart,” Rowan explained with a shrug. “Should we tell him I’m here?”

“Might as well, he’s only going to get more and more angry with that tractor, come on.”

Amelia and Rowan walked over and Rowan realized that David hadn’t heard her drive up as he was wearing earbuds. He turned as his mother entered his peripheral vision. His eyes narrowed when he saw Rowan and he pulled the earbuds out.

“Rowan.”

“Cap’n.”

“Stop calling me that.”

She smiled sweetly up at him. “You’re a Captain and you’re the leader of the team, what else should I call you.”

David was about to say anything else however he caught himself, knowing Rowan would come up with something else to annoy him. Odds were, she already had it planned. He gave her a once over. This was quite different from how he had seen her before and how he pictured her in his mind.

Which was not at all frequent. Not at all.

He had seen her get up as Agent 19, deep in the jungles of Colombia. He had also seen her wearing that daring red dress that he couldn’t get out of his mind. But this…this was homey. She looked relaxed. His fingers itched, wanting to run them through the tangles of her hair which had been tousled by something.

“Nevermind,” He mumbled. “Mom, I’m not sure what’s wrong with the tractor, to be honest. I thought it’s the fan belt but I replaced it and it’s still causing a problem.

“May I?” Rowan asked.

He frowned. He didn’t know Rowan knew much about cars, but even if she did, this was a tractor, not a regular car. “Sure, take a look.”

She crouched and got underneath the tractor, poking around. He was getting a good look at her lower half. After the dress situation in DC not too long ago, he was trying to make more memories of it. After a few minutes, she came out from underneath. “Carburetor.”

He almost cursed but remembered his mother was there. “No way.”

“Yes, way. I worked on tractors back home, Waller. The carburetor isn’t fully shot so it looks like it’s fine. I’d have to get a closer look, actually take it apart but I think it should be the source of the problem.”

“I think we’ve got an extra one in the shed, I’ll take a look.”

“Sure, but get cleaned up, you can do that later. Dinner time?” Amelia asked and David checked his watch.

“Shit,” He said, cursing despite the frown that appeared on his mom’s face. “Sorry, I lost track of time. We should be fine though.” He looked over at the garage and the loft. “Rowan, park in the garage, there’s plenty of space.”

He headed towards the garage and loft set up, leaving them behind. She stared after him. Well that was something of a welcome. She frowned slightly, not wanting to let Amelia see the disappointment. She hadn’t expected him to grab her into a hug and tell her how glad he was to see her. For starters, they’d just seen each other and he was clearly annoyed that she was there. Sure, she had invited herself but he’d said it was fine. If it hadn’t been fine, he should have told her.

Her mind was racing now. Why hadn’t he just said something to her if he didn’t want her around? Was she that bad to be around? Maybe she should ease up on him. Rowan was building towards something and was starting to wonder if she shouldn’t have come.

Amelia smiled, bemused. She knew her son and knew him well. Her eyes were on her son but she looked over at Rowan and saw the look on the young woman’s face. She wasn’t quite sure she had a read on the situation, but something told her to trust her gut.

“He’s glad you’re here, Rowan, he is.”

“You sure? I’ve seen him annoyed before and this seems beyond that.” The look of disappointment was there now, there was no way around it.

Amelia nodded. “Let’s go in the house and I’ll get you some lemonade. I’ll tell you all about the women he’s brought here in the past.”

Rowan couldn’t help the stab of jealousy and the momentary glowering look as she walked with Amelia, Goliath following them. She tried to smooth her face out, fight the disappointment and the hurt David’s relatively cold welcome had caused. She also was a little worried about why Amelia had brought that up. She didn’t want his mom thinking she was some trollop who was trying to seduce her son while working with him. They had honest to God national emergencies to solve, in addition to her potentially, maybe, possibly, seducing her son.

Did she think… “Oh, I mean, it’s not like-”

“You’re the first.”

Rowan stopped in her tracks as Amelia walked back towards the front of the house and then hurried to catch up.

You don’t say?

Things were looking up again.

[Mir]

The shower was amazing. It had given him a chance to get his head on straight. He knew why he was annoyed and it wasn’t the tractor. The tractor had been a convenient outlet though. He had dated very few women in his years. Very few. One of the big reasons was he knew what he liked and he had been hard pressed to find it. Nothing wrong with knowing what you wanted. Out of those few women, none had raised themselves to the level that they should be introduced to his mother.

He wasn’t even dating Rowan and he had wanted her to meet his mother.

What the hell was that about?

She’d invited herself and he had been fine with it. Was it because he had known that she had also been asked to visit by the Director, to make sure he was convalescing properly? David didn’t think it was that. He wasn’t sure what to think honestly.

He tossed the towel on the bed in the loft. Long ago, he had worked on renovating the loft above the garage. His muscles had sang as he’d torn down drywall and had redone the electrical work and plumbing to make it livable. The loft covered the entire stretch of the garage, it was huge. He had been entering high school when his mother had offered it to him so he had a place to call his own. David had jumped at the opportunity and had spent an entire summer redoing everything.

Now he had the space to himself, just as intended. It had helped as he got up earlier than his mother to do things around the farm before heading to school.

The open floor plan had lent itself to a wide variety of hobbies. He had turned it into part gym, part workshop, part whatever it was that fascinated him for a few months.

He pulled on a fresh pair of traveler jeans and grabbed a waffle knit hunter green henley, his preferred style of shirt, dragging it over his head and dog tags.

He could tell he was attracted to Rowan. On a base level, she was gorgeous. She had such a beautiful face and her smile lit up a room. That first night at the bar, he had tried not to lose himself in her eyes. He had wanted to rub his thumb over her lips. Speaking of that first night, he’d gotten a wonderful reminder of how much he’d liked the shape of her just now. He wasn’t sure if that red silken dress could be topped, but the current homey outfit was damn close. The way the tank top hugged her chest.. The nonchalance of the unbuttoned shirt. The leggings that was like a barely there second skin covering her ass. Between the waist and her hips and her…he was very grateful to her genetics and work out regimen for crafting what she worked with.

No, she wasn’t just gorgeous, she was ridiculously hot, she was burning up on fire hot. If he thought about it for longer, he’d need to take another shower but with the temperature turned way lower. That alone frustrated him, the fact that she could pull such a physical reaction out of him.

But more than that, she was…she was kind. She was funny, she was able to go back and forth with him on things. She cared about people. She seemed to want the best for whoever she was talking to, except for Holt. She had a good head on her shoulders and she was…

He sighed.

She just was.

And wasn’t that great? Wasn’t that just fan-freaking-tastic? The fact that the inside was more attractive than the outside, considering the outside, was just his fucking luck.

It was going to make this difficult. He was supposed to be her commanding officer on this team. Her safety was his responsibility and having feelings for someone could complicate that. And yet, he had seen her wearing simple clothes she felt comfortable traveling in and he had wanted her. David ran a hand through his wet hair. He had been in need of a haircut before he’d headed to Colombia and it was starting to get long now. He had to make sure he stayed on his game when it came to this.

So why had he been secretly pleased she had invited herself to the house he called home and was now sitting in the kitchen, probably, talking to his mother? He kept coming back to that.

Damned if he knew.

Throwing on socks, David roughly shoved his feet into his well worn boots and headed across the yard to the kitchen. He opened the door and stepped in to hear laughter, rich laughter. From both of them.

His eyes narrowed as he walked into the kitchen and dining area.

His mother was leaning against the stove area, a glass of lemonade in her hands. The kitchen was a triumph, he had worked really hard to renovate it for her. Everything was top of the line. The rest of the house was fairly old and what not, but this kitchen was almost state of the art. David earned a fairly good living as a Delta Force operator, at least for his needs. Everything above what he needed, both immediately and for retirement, he had sunk into the farm house. He had plans for everything. His mother was going to get older sooner rather than later and he wanted to convert a lot of the set up into more functional spaces for her.

Rowan was sitting at the island, facing his mom. She had a photo album in front of her, along with her own glass of lemonade.

“You were an adorable baby, Waller.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” He said, heading to the fridge and opening it. He pulled out a beer and popped it, drinking lustily. Then he rooted around in the fridge, pulling out a sealed bowl container.

“Do you need help, honey?” His mom asked and he shook his head. She noted the look of interest on Rowan’s face. “This may come as a surprise, but this boy will not let me cook when he’s visiting.”

Rowan closed the photo album, wishing the lock of shock was feigned for dramatic purposes. “It does come as a surprise,” She deadpanned.

David smirked as he headed over to the stove and got one of the heavy enameled cast iron pots out and on a burner which he turned on. “Why, because I know how to cook?” He asked, as the gas stove clicked a few times before lighting.

“There’s a difference between knowing how to cook and knowing how to cook.” She turned to Amelia. “And it’s edible?” She asked.

“Oh, yes.”

“You don’t have to lie because he’s here. Blink twice if he’s forcing you to spew these lies, Amelia. I am here for you.” Rowan pressed a hand against her chest and David did his best to avert his eyes.

“You see, growing up, my mom was a single mother. We didn’t start living here until I was going into high school. We used to live down in the panhandle. Florida.” David headed back to the fridge and got a collection of vegetables out and dropped them on the granite countertop island. “Small town, good people. A lot of them would watch me while she was at her second job. Overnights. A couple of them owned restaurants or mom and pop hotels in town. Different styles. I started hanging out there and then I started paying attention.. Creole, Greek, Italian. Hell, I even learned some Chinese and Thai.” He said, pulling a chef’s knife from the knife block. “Small town but a weirdly diverse community. We actually had a French culinary school trained guy.”

Rowan had eyed him with the knife, not because she didn’t trust him around a knife, he was probably more qualified than she was. No, it was that his story was a bit…unbelievable. There was a heavy wooden cutting board and she watched him get started, peeling carrots. She noted the Y peeler.

“You’re just full of surprises,” Rowan murmured into her lemonade as she drank. She meant every word.

David paused, as he had been mid peel.

Amelia saw the look between them as their eyes met. She smiled to herself and sipped at her lemonade.

“What, you thought I was only G.I. Joe?” He asked, playfully. “Actually, mom, you’ll appreciate this. Rowan, the first time we met, said that I give off the vibe of someone who…what was it, painted Warhammer models?”

“What’s Warhammer?” His mother asked, quizzically.

“It’s like Risk but more complicated,” David said, his eyes still on Rowan. He went back to the carrots and Rowan watched as after he peeled them, he sliced them lengthwise and then pulled them all together for a dice. He did the same cuts with celery, then mushrooms, and finally a shallot.

He had containers for all of the vegetables and she slowly smiled. “Mise en place?” She asked, using one of the terms she had learned for an undercover mission she’d done for the Agency.

He smirked again.

Son of a bitch, he was telling the truth.

“Rowan, so David said you’re from Goose Creek. That’s South Carolina, right?”

Rowan nodded, slowly pulling her eyes away from the rhythmic way David was splitting the vegetables. “Yeah, I was born there. Grew up there. My dad was in the Army, like David. He was in logistics and then transitioned into civilian life and became the manager at a biomedical research facility. One day, he’s headed to work and gets into a fender bender with another driver right by the parking lot. Turns out she’s one of the bigshot researchers at the facility. My mom claims he hit her on purpose so he could have an excuse for her to ‘give’ him her number.” Rowan shrugged. “Technically he had her number already but I gotta give credit to my dad for not being creepy and abusing that power.”

“Kind of redefines ‘hitting on’ someone,” Amelia said with a smile and Rowan nodded, laughing.

“You can say that again.”

She turned back as David opened the container, revealing seasoned bone in skin on chicken thighs. He had oil in the pot and got the thighs in, skin down. The sizzling sound filled the kitchen.

“Rowan, would you like some wine? I picked up a nice red the other day.” Amelia asked and she nodded.

Amelia got the bottle out, opening it as David turned back to them, as the chicken would take a little while to sear.

“So you really cook everything while you’re here?” She asked him.

“I don’t want my mom to have to worry about me and I like cooking a lot.”

“You gonna make the team lunches on Fridays?”

“If they behave.” He leaned against the counter next to the stove, giving the chicken a once over. “Speaking of, tell me about them. Holt and the Director said something about a Russian.”

Rowan shuddered at the mention of Alina. “You met Holt, he’s pretty straightforward. Sniper, I’ve never seen him miss, either in person or any video. He’s really good. All around a great operator. He comes across like he’s batsh- I mean, like he’s got some screws loose.” She had picked up on Amelia’s aversion to cursing and she could respect the rules of the house.

“In what way?” He reached into a basket next to the stove and grabbed a bulb of garlic along with fresh thyme and rosemary. Peeling a few cloves, he crushed the garlic and did a rough chop on the cloves and herbs as she spoke.

“I can’t really put my finger on it. He…bothers me. Like I told him, he comes across like he watches weird videos online,” She said and then, realizing how that could sound, turned to Amelia who was offering her a glass of red wine. “Not like that, I mean like violent stuff.”

Amelia hummed. “I’m not sure that’s much better.”

Rowan shrugged. “He keeps it under lock and key, whatever it is that’s in there. Doesn’t seem to affect his work. The Director likes him, which I suppose is what’s important.”

David nodded. “And the Russian? I think he said her name was Alina.” He turned back to flip the thighs.

“Alina Pirogova. She’s Russian, from some small tiny place in the middle of a snowback in the middle of nowhere. I think I read it’s one of, maybe the coldest place in Russia? Oymyakon or something like that.” She was doing her best to be unbiased.

He eyed her as he turned back around. “I can already tell she bothers you too.”

“She doesn’t bother me,” Rowan said, waving her hand as she took a sip from her wine. “She vexes me.” She looked at Amelia. “This is really good by the way, great find.”

“It’s a malbec.”

“Noted.” She went back to Waller. “She’s just annoying but also really good. Like really really good. She’s a Black Widow.”

He frowned. “The old Russian group of female black ops?” He asked and Rowan nodded. His brows lifted. “Wow. That’s impressive.”

“Like I said, she’s really good. But she’s also got an ego about it. Like you can be good, but be humble about it, you know?” She shrugged. “She also says my Russian is terrible and that also kind of pisses me off.”

“Well, if anyone would know, it should be her, right?” He asked, his back to her as he tended to the chicken.

She glared at his back. “I know that, Waller. That’s part of the problem, she’s probably right.”

Amelia looked at her son. “And…David is going to work with all of you? As the team leader?” She asked.

“It’s a super cool dysfunctional family.”

David had tongs out and was removing the chicken. He got the shallots in there along with the garlic and let them go for a bit before getting the other vegetables in there. He stirred and let it all cook as he seasoned it with salt and pepper. “The Director mentioned support.”

“Ava Conley and Brinley Weaver. Brinley I know her very well. She’s a psychologist. She focuses on making sure everyone’s even keeled.” She didn’t want to get too into the weeds about what Brinley did. She had only met Amelia an hour or so ago. Rowan wasn’t too sure how she felt about what her son did and what he was planning to do. She could imagine that, like any good mother, she worried about his safety.

With Brinley monitoring signs of PTSD and everyone forced to have sessions with her, Rowan didn’t want Amelia thinking her son was going to be elbow deep in the viscera or something.

“As for Conley, I don’t know much about her, to be honest. She’s new to the Agency, I haven’t worked with her before.”

David nodded as he got red cooking wine and tomato paste from the fridge and flour from a cupboard. Squeezing from the tube into the pot, he stirred to get the paste cooking down to reduce the acidity. He punched some buttons on the oven so that it would preheat. Then he added in some of the flour and kept cooking it down. He deglazed with the wine and then added the rosemary and thyme. He went back to the fridge for a plastic container and she realized it was homemade chicken stock.

Which, if she was guessing, he had made.

“You know, you actually look like you know what you’re doing. Kind of. I’m convinced Amelia coached you through this because you wanted to impress me.”

“Impress you.” He made a face of disgust. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Chapman.”

[Mir]

“You’re going to try to tell me you made those eclairs too?” Rowan asked, stretching out on the couch in the living room. Rowan had ditched her socks and shoes. She was sure she was going to burst from dinner. She still had her glass of wine, though this was her third glass over all the hours they’d been eating and talking. Goliath had taken up residence on the couch, practically on top of her and she politely scratched the head that was offered. Amelia had bid them good night and had gone to bed.

David laughed and shook his head. “No, those we got from the bakery in town.”

They were in the living room after dinner. David had finished the cook by adding worcestershire, and oyster sauce and nestling the thighs in the sauce before transferring it all to the oven. He’d made wild rice to go with it and while that had been going, he had made a salad. She couldn’t lie, what had pushed her over the edge was when he’d pulled it out of the oven an hour or so later, and added a touch of heavy cream.

She was still trying to process it all. It wasn’t that she didn’t know or believe that men could cook. She wasn’t uncivilized. It was that she hadn’t known or believed specifically that David could do it. Then she’d tasted it and she had been annoyed all over again. It was really, really good. He hadn’t measured a damn thing either, he’d known what it needed. At every step of the way.

Was this man just fucking competent at every damn thing? Didn’t that get the mind working.

More than that, she’d loved seeing him with his mom. He cared so much about her. Deeply. She did the same with him. They laughed and joked like they were old friends and had their own inside jokes. She really liked that about him. It was so loving. She was a sucker for a man who was close to his mother.

They had told funny stories from David’s childhood, like when Amelia had thought he had killed himself taking a particularly vicious hit in high school from a middle linebacker, things like that. She had gotten a deeper look at the man. If there was one thing she was sure of, she was convinced he was the right person to get the serum. Her evaluation of him had been spot on.

After dinner they had been in the living room, and she had seen the trophies from his high school football days. His mom had his jersey from when he had been an All-American running back framed and hung on the wall. She had seen pictures of him in his metalworking and woodworking classes too. She was getting such an in-depth look at the man behind the man and she was finding it harder and harder to find a flaw. Maybe it was that he was such a resistor. But even that was endearing in its own way.

He deserved what he was being offered. He had earned it and he would do well with it.

However, the night was winding down and she was getting tired. Rowan wasn’t sure if it was because of the full stomach or the lateness of the hour.

“So where am I bunking?” She asked, not wanting to let herself dive deeper into the thoughts. She wiggled her toes at him for full effect.

“Well, the best bed in the house is in my mom’s room. The second best is mine.”

Her eyes flashed. “Interesting.”

“As for you,” He said quickly, heading off anything going further, “you’re getting an airbed I’m setting up in the backyard.” He eyed her. “There are wolves sometimes. Foxes much more frequently. I’d send Goliath out with you but he usually sticks with my mom.” At the sound of his name, the dog’s eyes opened and he lifted his head from Rowan’s lap before settling back down.

She rolled her eyes. “Very droll, Waller. I didn’t grow up in DC, I only live there now. You suck at threatening people.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. No, you’re in one of the guest bedrooms. I made sure it was the lumpiest bed though.”

“You know, sooner or later you’re going to have to stop being so mean to me. I haven’t done anything to justify this type of behavior, Cap’n.”

He chuckled. “No, you only came into my life and flipped the whole thing upside down.”

She felt her breath catch. “Isn’t that a good thing?” She asked, her voice softening.

“I liked my life.”

“You were spinning your wheels, David.” Her voice gentled even more. “We both know it. You have integrity and respect, and that’s good. You’ve demonstrated that with your service so far. You were a team leader and did everything that was asked. But on top of that, you chose to serve for a reason. You’re a good person, David, you want to help others. That’s also good. You can do all of that with the serum. On this team. You can do it more and do it better than you would with Delta.” She said and shrugged her shoulders, holding the pose for a few seconds as she continued. “There’s nothing wrong with being a Delta operator. You would have lived a good life, maybe gotten married, had a kid or two. Maybe you fall into the military stereotype and get divorced and try to co-parent. You wake up one day thinking where did it all go wrong but it would have gone right in a lot of ways. It would have been a good life.”

“I’m not getting divorced.”

She had to raise an eyebrow to that. “What do you mean?” She asked, setting her glass of wine on the coaster on the table. It was oddly specific that that was what he had focused on. More than that, there was some heat behind the words he’d said. As though he’d really taken them personally. In all the time they’d spent together, this was the most upset she’d seen him.

“If I get married, divorce isn’t on the table, I take the vows seriously. If there’s a problem, we work it out. I’m sure as shit not putting my kids through that.” He was more willing to curse without his mother around.

She hadn’t asked about his father and Amelia had said she had never married. She wasn’t sure if it was her place to pry. Rowan chose the more amenable path. “That’s admirable. I respect it and on a personal level, I agree with it. But the other person has a say too, no?”

His gaze flashed down towards her now empty hands for a second and she randomly felt self conscious, wishing she hadn’t put the glass of wine down. “I wouldn’t marry someone who felt otherwise. I’ve seen some ugly parts of life and I know the life I lead. I wouldn’t marry someone who couldn’t deal with that. It’s about trust. Trust in yourself, trust in the other person, trust in the life you’ve built together.”

Why was he talking about this with her? One thing that made him good was knowing when he was beaten and knowing when to bail. David shook his head slightly. “Listen, I gotta get up early in the morning, I’ll show you where your room is. It’s got an ensuite bathroom.”

“You put the lumpiest mattress in the room that has the ensuite?” She asked as she followed him down the hallway.

He hit the switch to turn on the lights and turned to her. His mind raced to try to figure out what to say to keep them on the back and forth. He knew where he stood with her when they were going back and forth. He didn’t want to think about her hands. Particularly her left hand. Particularly the ring finger of her left hand. And what it would look like with something there instead of naked.

And he damned sure didn’t want to think of any sentence that had the words “Rowan” and “naked” in it.

“No. I moved the lumpiest mattress into the room with the ensuite a few hours before you got here.” He smiled as her face shifted into annoyance. God damn, if he didn’t like giving her shit back. He liked this. He preferred this. They were back to an even playing field. “Good night, Rowan.”

“I hate you.”

==-==

Rowan had been pretty sure she shouldn’t pack her normal robes and sleepwear, silk as they were. She sat at the desk in the room, wearing a much more southern farmhouse owned by a woman who didn’t like cursing friendly bed robe. She was brushing her hair after the shower. No need for her to have unnecessary tangles in the morning. The door to the room was opened and she looked before realizing Goliath had nosed it open. He padded into the room as she finished brushing her hair. Without an invitation, the black mouthed cur jumped up onto the queen sized bed and settled himself at the foot.

It made her smile. The dog trusted her. But not the man still, not fully.

Rowan thought about everything she’d seen today.

He surprised her. She had read his file, and she had interacted with him in that bar in DC, but this was different. This was where he was comfortable, maybe his most comfortable. She had seen moments of tenderness between mother and son.

Rowan set the brush down and finished getting ready for bed. All the while she laughed to herself that just to pull a prank David had swapped out queen sized mattresses. As she got into bed and turned off the light, she couldn’t help but remember a conversation she had had with Sakuraba years ago. She let her mind wander back to it as she settled and Goliath rearranged himself on the bed. He didn’t mind the lumpy mattress apparently.

He had beaten her in a sparring matchup. She had been struggling to deal with her red test, the first time she would have to kill. She had been convinced that passing the red test would change her, because how couldn’t it? She had been so worried. Not that it hadn’t, but she had overcome the change. She was still…still her. She hoped she was. Her parents and her brother hadn’t been able to tell something was different and her mom knew her so well. Neither had her friends.

Sakuraba had been telling her that while passing the red test would change her, the severity of that change was up to her. He had given her some wise advice. The opportunity for change would be there, he had said. But it was up to her whether she watered those seeds planted into the soil.

Before that though, they had been discussing Hugh Sanford, her boyfriend at the time.

Someone she was quite glad was now her ex. She had framed the conversation about the red test within the context of the positive changes and growth in her friend Nora’s life and Nora’s relationship with her boyfriend. Sakuraba had asked what she was looking for, in a potential life partner.

A potential spouse.

She still remembered what she’d said. She looked up at the ceiling as her own words came to her mind as if she’d just said them even though it had been years ago.

Integrity. Respect. Obviously love, but I mean the person has to be good. Someone who wants to help others. Someone who accepts the ugly side of life. I’m not the easiest person to deal with, my mother will be the first person to tell you that.

Sakuraba had realized she was worried that taking a life would make her unlovable.

David had integrity. He showed respect. He was a good person.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. No. No no no.

He wanted to help others. He himself had admitted he got the ugly side of life.

She squeezed them shut now.

Son of a bitch, she thought. I’m falling in love with this asshole, Alina was right.

==-==-==

David walked into the kitchen to put away the eggs he’d finished gathering. The chickens had been rather annoyed that morning which was a bit out of character. He ran his hand under the water of the sink, to wash a cut from where one of the hens had been pecking at him. He had appreciated getting a lot of the work done nice and early. It had helped him focus and keep his mind off the woman sleeping in one of the guest rooms only a few yards away. He’d worked a little angry and honestly he was pretty sure he had been the one to upset the chickens. So he couldn’t really blame one of them for pecking at him. He’d deserved it. They weren’t the only ones annoyed though.

But he couldn’t get her out of his head.

He turned and saw his mother entering the kitchen. “Took care of em,” He said, holding up the basket.

Amelia smiled. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to.”

Amelia poured herself a cup of coffee from the coffee pot David had set up before he’d gone outside earlier. She poured some sugar and cream. “Did you know Rowan’s middle name is Amelia?” She asked.

“Huh.” He said, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He lifted it up to take a sip. “Well that’s randomly weird.”

“That’s what I thought too.” Amelia sat down at the island.

David posted up against the counter, eyeing the bananas and apples in their fruit basket. “Mom, am I making the right decision here?” He asked. “I mean, I can still back out. I haven’t gotten the other half of the serum and everything that comes with it.”

She looked down into her coffee mug, stirring it a little bit. “I can’t tell you if you’re making the right decision. We don’t know that and we won’t know it for a while, even if you go through with it. I can’t tell you what to do. I mean, you were a good kid, Dave, and you never gave me trouble. Not serious trouble. But you always had a mind that told you what to do. I was lucky that gut always guided you properly.” She sipped her coffee. “So…what does your gut say?”

“That it’s the right call.”

“Then there you go. You’re going to have a colorful cast of characters you’ll be working with it seems.” She gestured in the vague direction of Rowan’s room. “She seems nice. The other people she was talking about, they seem a little weird.”

“Yeah, Rowan’s a real gem.”

She laughed, lightly, picking up on his tone of voice. Her own tone changed. “Speaking of which, am I wrong in guessing there’s something there?” She asked. She held a hand up. “I don’t pry into your personal life, Dave. You tell me what you want to tell me. But if you try to tell me there’s nothing there, I’m going to ask when did you start lying to me.”

He looked furtively at the entrance to the kitchen that was closest to Rowan’s room. “Can you keep your voice down?”

“It’s a large house and it’s also my house, David Waller.”

Damn, she had him there.

He brought the coffee mug up and then set it back down, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Yeah…yeah. There’s something there.”

“When you told me she was coming here, I wasn’t sure what to expect. You’d obviously never mentioned her before. You’ve never invited a young woman here before and you two aren’t even dating. From what you did tell me, you’ve only known each other a very short time. If you were trying to get to know your team members better, then this Holt person and Alina person would be here too.”

He picked up the mug and gulped down the coffee, because it helped avoid him having to speak and gave him time to marshall his thoughts. “I don’t know how to explain it just yet. She fits the right way. You know I mean?”

She smiled as she rose from the island, finishing her coffee. “I do,” She said. She walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek. “You should try to be nicer to her,” She added and he gave her a look. “I’m not getting any younger, you know. Sooner or later you owe me grandkids.” She laughed at his scowl.

Amelia listened as she heard a door open in the house. “I think your girlfriend is up.”

“She is not my girlfriend.”

Amelia nodded slowly, watching as he booked it out of the kitchen to go back outside. “Sure thing, kiddo.”

“I’m in my thirties,” David tossed over his shoulder.

“Still my kiddo.”

==-==-==

Rowan walked into the kitchen, yawning. She had changed out of her robe into jeans and a moss green ribbed seamless mock neck top that was sleeveless. Goliath followed her, heading straight to his food bowl, which David had filled in the morning.

“Good morning,” Amelia said, with a smile as she finished making a fresh pot of coffee. “How did you sleep?” She asked.

“David said he’d put the lumpiest mattress you guys have but that thing was pretty darn comfortable.”

Amelia frowned. “He said that? Weird. He spent part of yesterday carting his own mattress down from the loft and into your room. He swapped them.”

Rowan laughed. “Well, he got me good with that, so points to him.” That was a lie. She’d tossed and turned for quite a while trying to get to sleep. She had been trying to reconcile everything she knew about this woman’s son and everything she wanted in a partner. Then she’d been trying to reconcile this with the fact that he was going to be her boss, technically. Then she’d been trying to figure out how to make whatever she was feeling less obvious because God only knew how much Alina was going to be a menace about all of this. She didn’t trust the Russian as far as she could throw her. With her judo and wrestling background, the distance was pretty far but it was all the same to her.

“There’s coffee and we’ve got some bagels and cream cheese. I can whip you up something if you want.”

“Oh my God, no, please.” Rowan waved her off. “Bagels are fine, please, don’t.”

She walked over to the coffee pot and poured from the new pot into a mug. Amelia offered her the cream and sugar. Rowan fixed her coffee as Amelia went for the bagels. She turned. “You know, I also have croissants.”

Rowan’s eyes lit up as she sat down in the seat next to Amelia’s. “No way, you’re the best.”

A few minutes later, she had a warmed croissant, split in half and slathered with strawberry jam. An avowed connoisseur of croissants, Rowan was in heaven. She and Amelia were sitting next to each other at the island bar, joking about the differences between croissants and bagels and how terrible it was for anyone who preferred bagels over croissants. Amelia was working on her second cup of coffee. Rowan was halfway through the second part of her croissant when Amelia looked at her slyly and hit her with something she hadn’t seen coming.

“So….Rowan Amelia, what are your intentions with my son?”

Rowan almost choked on her coffee. “I’m sorry, what?” She asked, trying not to sputter.

“I saw the way you’ve eyed him.” She saw Rowan looking around, praying David was nowhere within earshot. “Oh, he’s outside, probably trying to find the spare carburetor.”

“I have nothing but the best intentions for David.”

Amelia made a noise approaching amusement. “I’m sure you do. Listen, I think what you and the people you work for are offering him is wonderful. As a mother, I’m so proud of him and everything he’s accomplished. He wanted to serve, to find his way through the world. But that’s on the outside. I’m always going to worry about what’s inside, I’m sure your parents are the same.” When Rowan nodded, she continued. “Are you going to tell me you don’t have a more than professional interest in him?”

If she could have covered her face with her hands in some display of shame, she would have. “Was it that obvious?”

“Probably not but I pay close attention when it pertains to him.”

Rowan let out a breath. This was definitely not the conversation she had thought she would be having this early in the morning. “I don’t…I don’t, uh…” She trailed off and then swiveled towards Amelia. “Did he say something?”

“I couldn’t possibly say.”

Rowan’s fingers drummed on the counter. “You mean you wouldn’t tell me. I mean, I get it.” She sighed. She knew where Amelia’s loyalties lay. There would be no fellow camaraderie between women here, not when one of them was the mother of the guy in question. “I think David is great and I really wanted to make sure we recruited him. I think he can really contribute to the team and-”

“That all sounds nice, dear, but it falls under the professional interest category.”

The finger drumming continued. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth would work.”

“This feels so awkward…” Rowan took a breath, trying to ignore Amelia’s mirth at her expense. “Okay, yes.”

Amelia smiled behind her coffee mug. “That wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“Telling the mother of a guy I find attractive that I find her son attractive? No, you’re absolutely right, not hard at all.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Rowan really couldn’t believe she was having this conversation right now. “I don’t know.” She took a bite of her croissant to buy more time. “I want to ask him, but I don’t know how he feels.” She gave Amelia a look. “Any help there would be appreciated, you know.”

Amelia finished her second cup of coffee and rose, headed to the sink. “Oh, I think you guys can figure it out all on your own.”

“You’re not going to help me at all?” Rowan asked. Then she paused. “Wait, do you not like me?” She asked.

Amelia turned after rinsing the mug out. “Rowan, like I said yesterday, you’re the only woman he’s ever brought here. There’s a reason why, and I think you’re bright enough to piece it together. As to whether I like you or not, I think you’re really good for him. He needs someone grounded who’s sensible.”

“You haven’t seen my shoe budget.”

The older woman laughed. “You should see what I’ve done with my shoe budget.”

Rowan’s eyes lit up just as they had for the news of croissants as she scooped up her coffee and rose from the counter. “Lead the way, lady.”

[Mir]

David opened his eyes as they started their descent to Dulles Airport. He was in first class which was a bit of a change for him. Next to him, Rowan was curled up. He had initially been surprised at her ability to fall asleep apparently no matter where she was, or how short of a time she had to nap. But after thinking about it, it made sense. Rowan seemed like just that kind of person. So was he. That had come after years of being in the Army. The ability to fall asleep at the drop of a dime and also to wake up at the same drop. However, he hadn’t been able to fall asleep on this flight. Not that he had wanted to, but sometimes you did. No, he had been too preoccupied with his thoughts concerning everything that was going to happen.

He had begged, borrowed, and probably stole more time from the Director. After the remains of his men had been recovered, he had insisted on attending all of the funerals. The Director, who needed him more than David needed him, had acquiesced. That had put David in a weird position he hadn’t anticipated. He had left the farm to go to the funerals. Rowan had wanted to accompany him, but he’d insisted she remain behind. It was something he needed to do himself. She had respected that, even if she hadn’t been too thrilled about it.

His dress uniform had seen more mileage over the past few days than it had in the past few years. What did you say to the family members of those who had been lost? He wasn’t sure if his words had been the right ones or helpful. David did know they had come from the heart. Every widow he’d hugged, every uncle or aunt, or father or mother or cousin. He’d broken once, falling into tears when one of his soldiers’ kids had embraced him. The little child hadn’t known he had needed that, but he had.

He had all the names and contact information written down. He had written the letters, as the commanding officer of the unit, but it was another thing to see them in person. He knew most of the nuclear members anyway, since they had lived on or near the base.

No matter what, he would stay in touch with them. He had to. Even if they had been on orders to conduct that operation, all those men had been under his command. His decision making. His responsibility. He had had a moral obligation to bring them home. He had, only not in the way he had wanted them to.

The idea of facing them had terrified him. It always had, since he had assumed command of a unit, particularly a Delta unit. But he had done it as that had been the call.

He wasn’t sure how he could explain that to Rowan, but he thought she got it. At least, she hadn’t pressed him on going with him and he felt it had been in part her understanding that he had needed to do this on his own. Leaving her with his mother hadn’t been ideal, but the situation was what it was. Apparently, they had bonded even more than they already had.

It didn’t bode well for him, not at all. For one, the flight back to DC from Tennessee was short, yet she had managed to fall asleep, and use his shoulder as a pillow. Who had given her permission to do that? He certainly hadn’t.

When you added in the big oversized headphones on her head, he still wasn’t sure how she pulled it off. He reached with his free arm and flicked her in the stomach, causing her to startle awake. She glared at him and pulled the headphones off as she sat up, legs still tucked under her.

“When we left your adorable mother who has a well of patience when it comes to putting up with you, she told you to be nicer to me.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He pulled out his phone and tapped through a few things. “I got a hotel for the short term, but I probably will need to figure out a more permanent place to stay.”

“I’ve got a spare bedroom.”

He chuckled, looking out of the window. “Thanks, but I think I’ll manage.”

“I know a few places, depending on whether you want to rent, buy or rent to buy.”

He kept looking out of the window. The last time he had been here, he hadn’t known what to expect. He was still in that boat, but at least this time the picture was a little bit clearer.

“Do you know how all this works?” He asked, as they continued to descend.

She unfurled herself from the large seat, stretching. “There’s going to be needles involved, not sure how you feel about those when you’re conscious.”

He shrugged.

“It’s a quick thing from what I read. You should be back on your feet a few minutes after the whole process.” She eyed him. He seemed nervous. She could understand why. Rowan placed a hand on his. “You’re going to be fine. Plenty of people have gotten the serum or variants of it through history. You’re not the first.” She squeezed his hand. “Besides, I’ll be there with you, I won’t let anything happen.”

They touched back down on the ground.

“If you turn into a frog, though, I don’t know, I could keep you in a little tank or something,” She said as they walked out of the plane.

She smiled at the grimace. “You’re not helping.”

“It’ll be a nice tank, David, I’ll spare no expense. Nice little rocks for you to sunbathe on. You can count on me.”

The Director had sent word to his unit of what was happening so his belongings on base were being packed up for him. He had only brought a carry-on with him, so they didn’t have to wait at baggage claim. Instead, they headed to the rideshare section of the airport. They were headed to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. He wasn’t too fond of the idea that his procedure was supposed to happen basically right after he landed in D.C., but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

“Still not helping.”

“Do you want me to kiss Frog David, so you turn back?” She asked as their car rolled up.

He waited until she was getting into the car. “Don’t you need to be a princess for that to work?” He smiled as she gave him a look, taking satisfaction in the slam of the car door.

==-==-==

David had stripped down to his boxer briefs and was strapped into a bed that had been tilted to ninety degrees. In a surgical room at Walter Reed, David was waiting for everything to start. There were medical personnel throughout the room. He wasn’t sure how this whole thing was going to work. The medical room was spotless though. He appreciated that for some reason. He saw up above was a viewing room. In one of the windows, he saw Rowan, standing there and fiddling with the necklace she wore. There was a neutral expression on her face.

But she was playing with the necklace and that was the tell that she was worried about something.

A man opened the door to the medical room and walked in, holding a clipboard. Wearing a lab coat, he did have the appearance of some kind of doctor or medical professional. Behind him, came a few others dressed similarly, and David saw the CIA Director as well.

“David, how are you feeling?” The lead doctor asked as he reached David.

“Feel fine.”

“Good, that’s good. I appreciate you following our request not to eat or drink anything for the past sixteen hours. Maybe it saved you from terrible airplane snacks, I don’t know.” The doctor gave him a smile. He cleared his throat, looking down at the clipboard in his hands. “So what’s going to happen is a series of injections. These injections contain a cocktail of different drugs and medicines. The serum will be the last thing you’re injected with.”

David nodded.

“The serum will cause a burning sensation.” The doctor pushed his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose as he looked up at Waller. “I can’t really give you a fair warning on what that will feel like, having not undergone the procedure myself. But, I know it can hurt.”

He’d figured that would be the case. Par for the course, if he had to think about it. Nothing in life was free, even this serum. “Thanks for the heads up.” Speaking of not free, he looked over at the CIA Director who had been listening to the conversation.

The doctor looked over at the CIA Director and the two men nodded. The doctor walked away to look over the equipment. The Director meanwhile remained, his eyes on David. “Are you ready for this?” He asked.

David looked down at the restraints. “Kind of late to be saying no, I suppose.”

The Director turned and saw that Holt had joined Rowan. He and Holt shared a quick head nod. “I’m looking forward to everything you and the team are going to be able to accomplish.” His gaze shifted to Rowan. “Agent 19, Holt, Alina, you, all capable, all qualified. We’re going to do great things for this country and for the world, David.”

David followed his gaze. “We’re still good on the rules, right?”

The Director turned back. “Absolutely.” He looked down. “I’d shake your hand, but it’s a little difficult. Just know you have my thanks, Captain Waller.”

He turned and headed out of the room.

==-==-==

Rowan’s fingers twisted the necklace. The rose gold link chain was simple and there were a number of pendants and charms at the bottom of it. She had a Saint Rowan charm among everything on the necklace. She wasn’t a particularly religious person but she had her beliefs. She heard the door to the viewing room open. The Director walked in, but she kept her eyes on the medical room below.

“He is good looking.”

She closed her eyes, realizing the Director had not walked in by himself.

“I’m not that concerned with his looks at the moment, Alina.”

The Russian woman shook her head. “Why not? The serum could make him ugly, you don’t know. You’re not a scientist, mladshaya sestra.”

Rowan didn’t even really register the other woman’s response. It was wrong on two counts. She was technically kind of a scientist with her master’s degree in biochemical engineering. Alina’s eyes caught the taller woman’s face, noting the worry. Her eyes shifted slightly downwards, seeing the fingers twisting the pendants and charms. She was waiting for Rowan to say that she wasn’t Alina’s sister and the fact that she was either choosing not to do it or not even realizing Alina had made the familial comment was concerning. Alina put an arm around Rowan and pulled her in, a rare moment of tenderness.

“He will be alright.”

Rowan nodded, quickly, but she didn’t respond.

“You know that, right? Tell me you know it, Rowan.”

“I know it,” She admitted, but they both knew that making it verbal wasn’t going to help the situation in her mind. Rowan fished her phone out of her pocket and Alina, because she still had her arm around Rowan, saw it was a text message. The person who it was from though, that was surprising.

“You have his mother’s number?” Alina asked, with a small smile. She wanted to make the joke, but she didn’t want to pile on. Teasing aside, she did have a healthy level of respect for the CIA agent. Far more than she let on or let Rowan know.

“She asked if I would take it and keep in touch with her. Not just about this, but you know, in general. She’s being a mom.”

Alina squeezed Rowan but the Russian in her came back and she let go, finding her seat.

Rowan realized she was the only person standing and up at the glass, so she joined the rest of the group sitting down.

“Ten bucks says he screams like a little wuss.”

She whipped around and glared at Holt. “You don’t have to be here, you know that?”

Holt thumbed over at the Director. “Actually, I do.”

She sighed and turned back around. “If anyone takes that bet, I’m going to be upset.”

Alina’s fingers itched. “What if I say five dollars?” She asked, unable to resist the opportunity to poke fun at Rowan.

“I’ll still be mad.”

Alina shrugged. “Sorry, Holt. This one seems pretty important to malen’kiy peresmeshnik.”

==-==-==

David’s eyes opened as the chamber opened. He had been put inside of a sealed hyperbaric chamber for the serum injection. Once it had started, he had been sure he was going to pass out. The number of needles that had been used, he think he’d lost count. Maybe not, but thankfully he hadn’t passed out. However, he had passed out after the serum had been injected. The burning had been fucking painful, he wanted to punch the doctor. That had not been a fair warning. His breath was ragged and he looked around. His vision was a little blurry and everything seemed brighter, but things were coming back into focus.


“Captain Waller, how do you feel?” The lead doctor asked.

He couldn’t help it. His eyes went up to the windows of the viewing room. Rowan wasn’t there.

He tried to swallow and could, but with difficulty. Bringing his eyes back down, he saw she had left the viewing room to come down to the main room. The Director was with her. He felt like shit. But he saw the look on her face. “I feel…fine. I could use some water.”

The doctor jumped slightly, as if he’d forgotten about that. “Oh, right, right. Hold on.” He went and got a bottle of water out of a fridge. Rowan intercepted him and opened it, climbing up onto the platform ledge of the chamber.

She poured water into his mouth. “You look like shit,” She said.

“I feel fine,” He lied.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I don’t want you to lie to me.”

He mustered up what he hoped was a wry smile after drinking more water. He dropped his voice, though that wasn’t that difficult at the moment. “I might take that kiss now, princess.”

Despite herself, she smiled, amused. “Maybe later.” She looked at him. “I think he got a little taller,” She said, raising her voice so the others could hear her.

“Well, he was already damn near at peak human ability. Man’s a tank,” The Director said. The look on his face had changed. When the chamber had been closed, he had worn a look of slight nervousness. Now he looked like a proud father who was looking at his newborn.

“I’ll be honest, I’m feeling better and better.” David took a step forward and Rowan lifted a hand up to his chest, as if to keep him in the chamber. He reached a hand out of his own and grasped her wrist. “Really, I’m feeling great.” He stepped out of the chamber and realized Rowan was right. He was taller by about an inch or so, close to 6’6” now. He towered over her at her 5’7”.

“We’ll need to run some tests.” The doctor and his medical staff came up to David and Rowan moved aside to let them do their work.

But her eyes were on David and his were on hers. She mouthed to him to ask if he was really okay and he gave her a reassuring head nod.

“All his vitals are looking good so far,” One of the medical staff said. “We’ll need to do a series of other tests though. See what your limits are, things like that.” The woman looked at the tablet in her hands and then back at David. “Do you think you’re ready for those?” She asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

[Mir]

“I really don’t think this is necessary.”

“It’s very necessary.”

David wanted to sigh, but his body was tired. He had been put through the ringer. The physical tests had been strenuous and then, by requirement, he had been checked out by Brinley Weaver, the psychologist. The blonde woman had asked him a series of different questions. She’d already known a lot about him, but he had needed to fill in gaps. She had said everything he said to her was in confidence and no one would be able to read the files.

For starters, he didn’t believe the director of the CIA would allow that. On top of that, he had wanted to try to check the room for bugs planted by Rowan. But he had done what was asked of him.

All he wanted to do was to go to the hotel and lie down. He didn’t even want to meet the rest of the team, Alina and Ava. Instead of doing that or even being allowed to return to his hotel, Rowan had insisted they go and look at actual places for him to live. He appreciated the thought but it was not at the top of mind at the moment. Honestly, David wasn’t even sure what was top of mind at the moment, his brain felt a little like mush. She would not be denied and he found himself traipsing through parts of DC. Most of the places she had found he hadn’t liked, but she kept saying she was saving the best for last.

Here they were, at the last one.

“I haven’t liked any of the places so far.”

“Of course, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Rowan and he stood in the lobby of the building, waiting for the elevator. The apartment or condo or whatever it was, was on the third floor. He had seen enough of the surrounding area to know they were in one of the more well to do areas of Washington D.C. He felt fairly certain this was out of his budget, not that he was that sure what his budget was. He and the Director had discussed his salary and it was well more than what he had been making in his role with Delta. That being said, he needed to see the first paycheck coming in to be able to make the determinations, particularly since he didn’t know what his expenses were. Waller still wanted to be able to send money back to Amelia to help with the farm.

He leaned against the wall as they waited for the elevator. He was dressed rather plainly, just jeans, a shirt, and a bomber jacket. He still wore his army boots. As if he still had his feet firmly planted in that life. Rowan had taken her own jacket off and was holding it folded over her arms. She had on a pale yellowish top and black jeans on, her feet covered by black boots he guessed were stylish but seemed a little uncomfortable to him. She turned and gave him an encouraging smile.

It was an easy decision to take out some of his frustration at being tired on her.

“You know, after everything I’ve been through today, you’d think you’d be showing me some niceties,” He said. “Why, just this morning you thought I needed to be resting.”

She pressed the button again, getting annoyed with the delay. “Yes, but that was this morning. You said you were fine and you were right.”

“Repeat that last part?” He asked as the doors finally opened. He missed her rolling her eyes as she stepped into the elevator, but not the dry sarcastic looking wince she gave him.

“I think my housewarming gift will be a broken clock so you get the hint.”

“Well, I think, Agent 19, this is a great time to remind you that you should be ending sentences with ‘sir’.” He smiled as her wince deepened. “After all, I’m the one in charge.”

She waited until the doors opened. “If that’s how you feel, dear, then I suppose we should cater to your ego, as fragile as it appears to be.” Rowan walked forward. “Sir,” she added as he followed.

If there was one thing that was both nice and frustrating for the same reason, it was letting her walk in front of him and he had been doing it a lot already. Still, he didn’t get tired of it. Almost as if she knew this, there was a sway to her hips that he worked diligently to keep his eyes off of.

He was tired, not comatose.

They reached the door to 3A and saw the realtor waiting for them.

“I’m so glad you were able to make it, I know it’s been a long day looking at wonderful places,” The woman said.

“In more ways than one,” David said.

Rowan looked over her shoulder confused and then realized the implied double entendre. Whether it annoyed her or not, he couldn’t tell, as she turned back around. “I kept telling him we’re saving the best for last.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” The realtor opened the door. “If you’ll follow me.”

He walked in, ready to give Rowan shit, and simply stared. She had not been underselling what she’d meant. The condo was spacious. Which was putting it lightly. It had a great open room. Hardwood floors everywhere that looked like they’d been freshly waxed. The paint was a bit older but the crown molding was beautiful. The DIYer in David was already perking up, as if he’d drank a pot of coffee or some energy drink. He didn’t even notice the small smile that grew on Rowan’s face as he walked through. He was barely listening to the realtor. Everything she was saying would be on the paperwork.

He could already envision where he wanted what. There were three bedrooms and one was large enough he could fit a number of machines in there, turn it into a home gym. The other would work as an office or study of sorts. Maybe a guest bedroom. He got to the master bedroom and ensuite bathroom. David had never been someone who yearned for the finer things in life. He appreciated them, but he didn’t view them as a necessity. He tried to remind himself of that when he saw the bedroom and realized not only could he fit a king sized bed in this room and have plenty of space left over, but this room alone was almost half the size of his old apartment building.

Rowan walked up and slid a hand across his upper back, leaning in. “Wait till you see the kitchen.”

His fingertips itched.

When he stepped into the kitchen, he knew he was going to take this place. No matter what. It was fully up to spec. He could tell from looking at it. A double oven built into the wall. A double fridge with a chest freezer next to it. What looked like granite countertops. This had to be a fortune and that was the sobering hit he needed. David shook his head.

He wouldn’t take it no matter what. He asked the price and when the realtor named it, his eyes almost exploded out of his head. He looked over at Rowan. “There’s no way we make that kind of money and if you tell me we do, I’m going to have serious issues with the way our taxes are spent.”

Amused, she reached into the purse she wore, producing a small envelope. She handed it to him. “I don’t know what’s in here, the director just told me to make sure I gave it to you at the right time. This seems like the right time.”

He opened it and removed the contents and his eyes almost popped again. “What is this?” He held up the check.

“Signing bonus,” She explained. “I don’t know what’s on there, but I doubt it’s less than what mine was a few years ago. That’s not even a check really, it’s been direct deposited in already, if I know the director. No loose ends is kind of his motto.”

He could pay for almost the entire place with this. He made a mental calculation of this plus the salary the director and he had discussed. Now, thinking back to the conversation, it had been far less of an actual conversation. The director had named a figure, David had been in shock at the amount and had accepted it. He was still getting used to the idea that superiors couldn’t always tell him what to do.

“I’ll have to split some of this for my mom,” David said, staring at the amount. He missed Rowan’s face shifting.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” She murmured.

There had to be a catch. It was obvious Rowan wanted him to live here. The rest of the places had been nice, but nowhere near like this. Palatial. But then again, he had spent many nights sleeping on the ground in foreign countries staring up at stars that didn’t seem familiar. He could take a kevlar, put it at the small of his back and fall asleep leaning against it. So sometimes the niceties of life were lost on him.

“I don’t know.” He looked around the kitchen. “I mean, this is beautiful, don't get me wrong, but I could do a lot of other things with this money.”

The realtor, sensing this was probably best a more private moment, excused herself.

“What’s wrong?” Rowan asked, leaning against the sink.

“Just feels like largesse. I’m not used to this kind of stuff. My old apartment was the nicest place I’ve ever had, once I was on my own.” He laughed. “I did my degree through distance learning, I never had a dorm room or apartment. So it was all Army base housing.”

She nodded. She could understand it, he hoped. “Don’t you feel like you’ve earned it?” She asked, trying to get more from him. “You’ve done so much for so many people. Take just your mom for example. I don’t know how many sons, even being raised by a single mom, would be doing as much as you do. You’re helping keep that farm alive which means you’re keeping your mom comfortable and happy.”

“I can’t repay everything she sacrificed for me.” He looked up at her and he almost wished he hadn’t.

He wasn’t sure of what he felt for Rowan, but he knew she looked damned perfect in this kitchen. Which sounded like a weird sentence to say, but David knew that besides the battlefield, the place where he felt most at home, the most comfortable, was a kitchen. For her to look like this here, it meant…

“Maybe not,” She said. “But you should have things for yourself.” She twisted the strap of her purse, slung across the center of her chest.

He realized at that moment she was nervous. Nervous of what he was going to do. It felt strange.

He knew she was right, even though the idea of being selfish didn’t come easily to him. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Repeat that last part?” She asked, referencing what he’d said to her earlier.

He rolled his eyes. “Get the nice lady for me please, Rowan.”

“Sure thing.” She started out of the room and then shot him a look that made his stomach do a slow flip. “Sir.”

==-==-==

Rowan leaned on the balcony of David’s new condo as the sun finally started to set on the long day. He was finishing up the paperwork inside with the realtor. The company selling the location had worked with the Agency in the past and they knew the drill. With David’s contract in place, plus the amount he was putting down, the process for getting the loan was rather quick. A normal mortgage took weeks to get. Different things needed to fall into place. Different documents obtained. She knew from David’s file he had almost zero debt. As he’d said, his degree had been distance learning and had been done through the military. He lived a modest life and saved and invested pretty much everything he made that he didn’t send home.

So the amount of paperwork he needed to get the process going was minimal.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the breeze hit her. She wasn’t sure what felt weird, but something did. Rowan was used to keeping her nose to the grind and putting in the work. Things always fell into the right place when she did that. Things were falling into place. The team had its leader and the members set, even if she would have tossed Holt off a bridge rather than have him be a part of this. Alina had her uses. Something felt weird though. She had barely needed to figure out a way to convince David to do what she had wanted him to do.

Everything had gone well. She remembered the feeling she’d gotten when she’d sat on her couch, reviewing his combat footage while looking at his file. Then seeing him during the meeting set up between him and the Director. Then going to the hotel and talking to him. There had been that slight hiccup with what had happened in Colombia. But she remembered that feeling when he’d finally said yes. The sense she’d felt that she had made the right decision in her recommendation to the Director when she had been at the farm with David’s mother.

Feeling nervous and anxious when he had undergone the transfusion.

Even with everything she’d said to him about it being safe and what not, she had been nervous. Scared if she was willing to admit it. Scared that she was messing up his life. She had been so relieved when everything had gone properly.

She had watched him rep almost a thousand pounds on the bench press and all of the physical tests. Now, she and her thoughts were interrupted as the door to the balcony slid and David walked out.

She had pushed him today to do this and she was glad everything had worked out just the way she’d wanted it.

“This is a pretty great view.”

“Yeah, and since you don’t have a car, I’ll be able to pick you up on our way into the office.”

As she looked over at him, she realized after she’d said it, she may have overplayed her hand. His eyes had narrowed.

“Why?” He asked. “How close are you?”

“I’m close. Just a phone call away if you need me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Technically, it does.”

“Rowan, I’ve had a very long day, and I’m really tired. Stop messing with me. Where do you live?” He asked.

She pointed and watched him follow to see where she was pointing.

“No fucking way.” He put his hands on the balcony railing and leaned against the concrete. “You live across the street?”

“What?” She asked, throwing her hands up in mock surprise. “Obviously, it means I knew the area really well and knew a quality residence when I saw it.” She tried to hide her grin as his eyes narrowed. “Besides, every good second in command knows they should keep their eyes on the big guy to make sure he’s walking the line straight and narrow, sir.” Rowan gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder.

“I hate it here.” David glanced over his shoulder. “I wonder if I can cancel it. You…you waited until I finished signing, didn’t you?”

She gave him the sweetest, most innocent smile she could muster. “I cannot tell a lie, Cap’n. I absolutely did.”

“You took advantage of the fact that I literally had an operation done this morning, physical and psychological exams in the afternoon, and then made me run around D.C. Looking at apartments you didn’t want me to take in the first place, because you wanted me to take this one.”

“Diabolical, I know. I’m a mastermind, Waller, don’t forget it, babes.” She pointed at her balcony. “We do mimosas on Saturday mornings. If you don’t attend, it’s considered bad for morale. Wednesday nights, I get a karaoke machine and we-”

“I swear to God.”

“You should hear my ‘Don’t stop believin’,” She said. She stared at him. “We could duet together.”

“I’d rather Holt shot me in the face.”

Her phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her purse. “Speaking of,” She said, looking at the text message. “You’ve been invited to a bar for drinks with everyone. Well, not the director. Or Brinley. But everyone else.”

“So two people you can’t stand and one person you don’t know.”

“Team building.”

==-==-==

Rowan was glad the bar was a little noisy as it helped distract her a bit. She was trying not to be overbearing. Which, she knew, could be a bit difficult for her. She watched Waller nurse a rum and coke. He’d been drinking whiskey on the rocks in the hotel. She filed that away for future use. Her plan wasn’t to keep him out too late. Truth be told, he had had a long day. Also, she was feeling bad for how she’d sprung his new living arrangement on him, maneuvering him into going along with what she wanted. She didn’t feel too bad about that part though. Sometimes, other people knew what was best for us and we needed to go along with it. Though, if someone had done that to her, her Irish would be up.

She drank from her paloma as she kept up with the conversations at the table. While she didn’t want to be overbearing, she wasn’t too thrilled with Alina being in such close proximity to Waller. The Russian could be a handful even when you were well rested. But Alina was behaving herself. Rowan’s focus wasn’t fully on the conversations though, as she was also texting Amelia.

She’d promised to keep Amelia updated with everything and she would fulfill that promise. She owed that to the woman who was trusting her to keep her son safe. Now that he had the super soldier serum, Rowan was kind of intrigued to see what would need to happen for David to not be safe. At the same time, today had been stressful and she knew Amelia wanted to be kept in the loop.

David caught her eye and the two looked at each other, across the table in the bar near where they both now would live.

Amelia hadn’t set any expectation on when Rowan was to stop keeping her updated. As far as Rowan could tell, the older woman had implied that this time period covered not just the serum transfusion but for the foreseeable future. One might even say she’d meant forever.

Rowan smiled on the inside. Forever didn’t sound that bad, to be honest.

David excused himself to go to the bathroom. It was now Alina who caught her eye and looked pointedly at the bar. Rowan got the message and the two women went to the bar as Ava continued to try to coax a few words out of Holt.

“So…” Alina said, ordering another Russian brand of vodka.

“I don’t know how you drink that trash,” Rowan said, earning a look of annoyance from the Russian. Points for America.

“This trash is one of my country’s pride and joys.”

Rowan leaned against the bar and gave Alina a somewhat lopsided smile. “You know, for a Russian agent who defected to the United States and works for the CIA, you sure talk up Russia a lot.”

Alina shook her head. “I can still have pride in my country, Rowan Amelia. If I recall correctly, the first time we met you were drinking vodka.” Alina accepted her drink from the bartender and Rowan ordered another paloma. “But you try to play a duck with my question is not appreciated.”

“One word isn’t a question.”

“No?” Alina shoved her shoulder into Rowan’s side in a playful manner as the bartender came back with her drink. “Answer the question.”

“I know, I know.” Rowan looked over at the bathroom, where David had disappeared a few moments ago. “He’s doing alright, I may have been overreacting this morning.”

“Mladshaya sestra, you were being very dramatic. Slishkom dramatichno.”

“I was not being too dramatic and I am not your little sister.” Rowan took her paloma and took a sip. She wasn’t sure when David was going to get back from the bathroom and she also didn’t want him or anyone else picking up on the conversation she knew she was having. There was an easy way to do it. “Razve plokho zabotit’sya o kom-to?”

“Nyet,” Alina said, following Rowan’s lead and continuing in Russian. Kak ya uzhe skazala, ya ne budu smotret’na tyoyego parnya.”

Rowan glared at the Russian woman. “He’s not my boyfriend.” They watched as David came out of the bathroom and headed back to the table.

“If you say so,” Alina replied under her breath, as they walked back to the table. “If you say so.” She got to the table and smiled. “So, David, are you ready to be in charge of this misfit band?” She asked.

He shrugged. “I suppose so. You all seem pretty normal. I’m not sure why Rowan was saying terrible things about you, Alina. And Holt, you saved my life.”

“Just doing my job,” Holt said, raising his beer in salute.

“I saved your life. Holt was simply present,” Rowan countered.

Alina’s smirk grew. “What did my little sister say about me?” She asked, bringing the conversation back to the topic at hand while sending Rowan a saccharine smile.

“Little sister?” David asked, looking between Rowan and Alina. He looked pretty surprised by that one, considering how Rowan had referred to Alina in the past. If he remembered right, she had said Alina was vexing.

Rowan felt she should explain it or at least explain something. Maybe because she herself didn’t fully know why Alina called her that. At least, any other reason than it was probably designed to annoy her.

“Inside joke. As in, it’s inside Alina’s head and should be kept to herself.”

He shrugged, thinking that was going to be the only reason he got. He turned back to Alina. “She said only nice things.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s all she said,” Alina replied, steepling her fingers and giving Rowan a smile over her fingertips. “Rowan Amelia and I are old friends. We met in Madripoor in a casino a couple of years ago. We went dancing.”

“Dancing?” David asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked intrigued.

“Chapman’s gotta be a spaz.” Holt lifted his beer, drinking from it, a smirk on his face through it all.

Rowan felt this comment deserved a turn of its own, and landed a punch on his shoulder that jostled him slightly.

David turned to Ava. “But it seems you’re new to everyone, Ms. Conley.”

Ava straightened as she was addressed. “Lieutenant Conley, sir. Yes, I am a bit new to everyone here, I suppose.”

“Well, Lieutenant, how does a twenty one year old advance so far so fast?” He asked.

The young blonde woman measured her words before replying. “I’m a bit of a prodigy, sir. I tested very high and they said I’m a bit of a super genius. I joined ROTC, I needed the discipline of the military, sir.” She blinked blue eyes at him.

“So you’re crazy,” Holt said. “Not like Rowan is crazy and wants everything to be sunshine and rainbows all the time.”

“Or for the Panthers to win a Super Bowl, which really is crazy,” David said.

Rowan shot the two boys a look. “I try to be optimistic for everyone’s benefit and this is the thanks I get.”

David rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He turned back to Conley. “I can understand that. The military is good for many things, and one of it is discipline and order. Gotta say, I appreciate the usage of ‘sir’,” David said, shooting Rowan a wry smile.

Ava looked confused, not knowing she was being put in the middle of something. “You’re a Captain, aren’t you sir?”

“I am,” David said, finishing his drink. “And I gotta say, this Captain is really tired, guys. I appreciate you two wanting to introduce yourselves, but I should probably get some rest.”

[Mir]

Rowan cracked her neck to the side, closing her eyes for a moment as she leaned back in her seat. She was in the office, going over a few different pieces of analysis. There were different forces always in play and part of her role was keeping tabs on things. However, she had to wonder if her services would be shifted more to the field, with Ava on the team. She didn’t even know what this team was supposed to be called or anything like that. She looked out of the glass panels of her office, thinking she would see David, but she knew she wouldn’t. He was going through a whole slew of orientation things. There were also other tests that were being done. She had wanted to help with all that, but the paperwork on her desk had been calling her at the same time.

She picked up the pencil on her desk, tapping it lightly against the desk.

The number of threats the CIA monitored at any given point was pretty extensive. The CIA’s mission statement dealt with foreign threats. But from what she understood, this task force, whatever the name would be, would also be focused on domestic issues. They would work hand in hand with the FBI, the DEA, the NSA, as well as other departments, coordinating with those agencies so they didn’t step on toes and could share their work.

Rowan’s eyes darted over to her computer monitors, as she watched the current stock market trading day. Yet another thing she had to watch. Not because she was worried about her retirement, but there were financial worries to consider.

One thing that certain elements always needed was money. Financial market manipulation wasn’t off the table. Sure, a lot of them used more shadowy ways to get the financing they needed for their activities, but that didn’t mean the government could afford to not pay attention to more legal means.

She saw a particular company, one which she had been tracking for some time. She kept an eye on Gryphon Holdings for a number of reasons. Knowing who was in charge of it was enough reason for that. If she could build a case against them, then she would be rather pleased.

Looking at the clock, Rowan felt it was a good time to break for lunch. She wasn’t specifically that hungry yet, but she had to eat at some point. Rising from her desk, she went to the fridge she kept in her office. Packing a lunch wasn’t fun but it was cost effective and allowed her to keep track of her macros with better control. The game was the game. She didn’t have the luxury of having the super soldier serum like David did now. He could probably afford to be a little more lax with his caloric intake and macro watching. Not that she expected that from him.

Old habits die hard and he was an old dog when it came to being a soldier. Also, she doubted the Director would let him do that.

She thought about eating at her desk, but figured she should be a bit more social, considering the rest of the team. Walking out and heading downstairs to one of the cafeterias, she saw Brinley sitting by herself, eating a salad. Rowan walked towards her, pointing towards one of the empty seats at the table. Brinley nodded.

“Ms. Weaver, how’s your Monday going?” She asked.

“Hey, Rowan. It’s fine, so far. I’m having a tough time tracking down Holt, but he finally reached out and said he’d be in later today.”

Rowan looked confused as she unpacked her high protein low carb lunch. “Why what’s up?” She asked. “I mean, obviously don’t tell me anything sensitive, but does he need help?” She asked.

Brinley shook her head. “Oh, no, nothing serious. He missed his meeting with me yesterday so I was trying to reschedule.”

“Weird, he didn’t say anything yesterday.” Rowan responded without thinking and then realized why she maybe should have held her tongue. She remembered that Brinley hadn’t been at the bar with them.

“You saw him yesterday?” The blond woman asked, spearing some of the lettuce and spinach in her salad.

“Yeah.” Rowan looked down at her food. “So…we kind of…we went out for drinks.” She let her eyes wander a little innocently. In the background around them, she saw a few people having conversations and then getting up and leaving the cafeteria. She wondered what was going on, why people were leaving.

Brinley chewed a bit. “You and Eric?” She asked, suddenly interested.

“No, uh, it was myself, Eric, David, and…Ava.” She winced, tensing up a bit. She wasn’t sure exactly how to bring up the fact that she hadn’t invited Brinley to the bar yesterday.

“Oh, that’s good,” Brinley replied, causing Rowan to pause mid bite. “Yeah, absolutely.” She smiled. “You guys are going to be a team. I know Ava isn’t supposed to see the field, but she’s on the team. Team bonding and team building things are great for you guys. I’m the team psych person, so I can understand why I wouldn’t be invited. You don’t need to apologize, Rowan.”

Rowan relaxed. “Thank you so much, I felt really bad.” When Brinley vocalized the reason Rowan hadn’t invited her, she felt better. She had worried about it when she had sent the text messages. It had made sense in her head. But at the same time, she could understand how being excluded could be hurtful. So she was glad Brinley didn’t seem to be upset by it.

Brinley grinned. “No, there’s no reason to feel bad.” She continued eating. “So, how do you feel about being the second in command of a task force? Especially one like this. It’s a big step up.”

Rowan wasn’t sure if she wanted to get into that topic here in the middle of a CIA Cafeteria, but she felt she owed Brinley after not inviting her. “I’m looking forward to it,” She admitted. “I think there’s a lot of opportunity. But on a personal level, it’s definitely daunting.”

“You’ve had your challenges with Alina.”

Rowan nodded, her nose wrinkling. That was one way to put it. She’d confided in Brinley a bit. Was it really confiding when you were supposed to tell the shrink that?” “I think she’ll come around. she’ll listen to David more than me, though.”

“And you can tell David what to do.” There was mirth in Brinley’s voice.

In response, Rowan shook her head. “No, that man has a mind of his own, trust me. We do think on similar wavelengths though.”

On many things. On everything? She wasn’t sure. She hoped they did. She looked away for a moment, getting lost in her thoughts.

“Do you know what the first mission is going to be?” Brinley asked, bringing Rowan back to the here and now and away from the thoughts in her head.

“No, not at all.”

Rowan was going to muse about that, but Ava came running over. She was out of breath and put one hand on the table to steady herself and one hand on her chest. Rowan’s eyes went wide and she covered the younger woman’s hand with her own.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Ava gulped down air. “David, I mean, Captain Waller, is going to fight Sakuraba.”

Rowan’s eyes somehow managed to widen even further. “They got into a fight?” She asked, pushing back from the table. Her face scrunched up as she tried to figure out how the hell those two, of all the people she knew, could possibly get into any kind of altercation.

“No, I mean they’re going to spar, I’m sorry ma’am.”

Rowan jumped up from the table. “You gotta show me.” She started walking towards the elevators. “And don’t call me ‘ma’am’.”

Ava simply nodded as they reached the elevators.

Rowan’s mind was racing. It was probably just a sparring session. At the same time, she was worried because it could also not just be a sparring session. Sakuraba was the sweetest person she knew. David was one of the nicest. She was blowing this out of proportion and getting worried for no reason. She knew that. She also knew that if this elevator didn’t hurry up she was going to-

She didn’t have to worry about that as they reached the floor of the CIA Satellite building that housed the gym. Ava and Rowan walked through the hallways, as Rowan realized there were a lot of people going the same direction they were. No doubt they were interested in what was about to happen.

At least she understood why people had been leaving the cafeteria.

They got into the dojo area, after Rowan shoved people to the side and wormed her way through. Despite the hurry she was in, Rowan respectfully kicked off her shoes before stepping into the octagonal ring that dominated the martial arts section of the gym floor. She as in a hurry, she didn’t forget her manners.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“I am testing the Captain’s abilities.” Sakuraba’s look was one of mild curiosity. “He intimated he would like to see how he would fare against me.”

“Is this really necessary?” Rowan asked David, who was giving her a much more surprised look.

“They told me they needed to measure my hand to hand fighting ability and that Sakuraba was the person to do it against,” David explained.

Her eyes shifted between the two of them. “Oh, well…okay. That makes sense.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you think is happening here?”

“I don’t know, Ava runs up to me in the cafeteria and tells me you two are fighting.”

Ava held up a hand. “I clarified it was sparring.”

“Stay out of this.” Rowan crossed her arms over her chest. “Well?” She asked. “We gonna get this over with?” She asked.

“You’re standing in the ring,” Sakuraba pointed out.

She eyed him and backed up so she was on the sidelines. Ava held up Rowan’s pumps and she took them..

“What’s up with her?” David asked Sakuraba and the older man shook his head.

“I do not know, precisely, but I think I have an idea.” He looked back over at Rowan and could see a war being waged on her face. She wore concern there, for both men. His gaze gently returned to David’s when David asked him a question.

“Tell me after this?”

He considered it. A desire to be honorable was in direct conflict with a desire to defend someone he considered a surrogate daughter. “Maybe, if you win.”

The two shook hands.

Less than thirty seconds later, Ava had idol worship in her eyes. “Wow,” she murmured. “Captain Waller is amazing.”

They were watching the two of them go at it and Rowan had to admit she hadn’t thought David was this good. Sure, she knew he knew Army combatives and had been trained further in different disciplines as part of his special forces training. But this…this was pretty incredible. He was keeping Sakuraba at bay and he was barely trying. There was something different in his eyes. A ferocity she hadn’t seen before.

It was around this time that Rowan had to take a step back and think about all her prior interactions with David. They had always been having conversations or they had been walking around somewhere. They’d never been in any kind of fight. Or more correctly, she had never seen David fight, not in person. The one time she’d seen him in the field, he had been wounded by shrapnel and dehydrated. He had been on death’s door. Seeing him like this…well she had to agree with Conley. He was amazing.

One of the key takeaways was that it was even more surprising that she had seen him in such a state, like ever. The soldiers at that drug compound in Colombia had gotten lucky by taking out the Blackhawks from a distance. If he shot like he fought, she wasn’t sure how anyone could beat this man.

Sakuraba was a trained Hand ninja and from what she understood, was one of the best they had ever had. Including someone like Matthew Murdock and Elektra. When she beat Sakuraba, it was because they only used wrestling. When they did full mixed martial arts, she had never beaten him. Rowan could take a grown man down with ease if she could get him down to the ground and in Sakuraba’s estimation she was the world’s foremost wrestler, regardless of gender. Yet even she struggled against Sakuraba.

It wasn’t a matter of skill, it was a matter of mental acuity. Once he started fighting, Sakuraba simply walked into a flow state. She had long ago figured there was something superhuman about him, but she hadn’t seen any documentation confirming it. Rowan had chalked it up to just how attuned his mind was to a singular task at the time.

And David was handling this as though Rowan had asked him to load a dishwasher.

The movements were fast and she blinked as she tried to follow.

For everything Sakuraba threw at David, he had a counter. He kept the other man backpedaling and worked him around the octagon ring they were in. The feeling in the air was electric as the two kept going at it.

Rowan had to wonder whether or not David would be able to do this if he didn’t have the super soldier serum. However, long ago Sakuraba had drilled something into her. We don’t fight people as we wished they were, but as they are. We accept whatever limitations we have against someone stronger and more durable than us. We work with what we have and find a way to victory no matter what.

When David threw his shoulder into Sakuraba’s midsection, taking the other man down to the ground, Ava gasped. Taking advantage of Sakuraba having the wind knocked out of him, David slid into an arm triangle choke. Sakuraba defended by punching at David’s midsection. Waller responded by flipping and bridging. Now the entirety of his body was away from Sakuraba’s reach. The former Hand ninja needed to try to swing his weight to either side to try to turn them so their stomachs were on the ground, not their backs.

That was the point of the bridging aspect. You cranked the neck even further and went for the straight kill without giving the other person time to think.

Sakuraba, knowing this, was able to twist, breaking the hold. However this allowed David to move forward, grabbing one of the exposed legs. He had the other man in an ankle lock now. Sakuraba tried to roll through, but David suddenly dropped to the ground, snaking Sakuraba’s leg with his own.

He held on.

Rowan watched as something happened she had never seen before or heard of before.

Sakuraba had never tapped out against someone in their first fight.

She watched him tap now.

==-==-==

In the back, Sakuraba drank from the electrolyte mix in his hands. Rowan came up to him and he fished his mouthguard out.

“He is very good.”

Sakuraba’s one sentence summed up a lot.

“Yeah, he is.” She sat next to him on the bench. “Are you alright?” She asked and he nodded.

“In actuality, he could have dispatched with me much earlier,” Sakuraba noted. “He did not continue the fight to toy with me. He did it out of genuine curiosity. I respect that.” He reached over and pat her knee. “I am fine, Rowan.”

“I know, I just…” Rowan pulled her legs up, sitting cross legged on the bench. “I worry about you, you know.”

The Japanese man looked confused. “Why, when that is my job? To worry about you?”

“You’re getting up there, man.” She playfully nudged his shoulder with her own. “Gotta have you around for a long time.”

“When it is my time to abandon this earthly coil, Rowan, you will know. Until that time, I will be here.”

“Allright, don’t get dark on me. Or philosophical, I still have to finish my lunch.” She hugged him, thankful he was wearing a sparring gi. “I’m glad you’re alright,” Rowan added, kissing one of her father figures on the cheek before rising and walking towards the door.

“He is much more suitable than the staffer.”

She froze, before slowly, painfully slowly turning. “Say what now?” She asked.

“He is much more suitable than the staffer,” Sakuraba repeated.

Rowan flexed her toes in her pumps. There were many ways this conversation could go. Best to head him off before it got out of hand. “Come on man, you just got beat up, you’re very loopy.” She rolled her eyes.

“You did not come running into my dojo for no reason, Rowan. You came for a specific reason.”

Trust this Japanese bastard to remember everything all the time.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, leaning against the lockers.

He smiled. “It means you think you have found what you are looking for.”

She looked over her shoulder, grateful they were alone and no one appeared to be coming into the locker room. “Listen, Sakuraba, can we…can we not talk about that?” She asked.

“And can we especially not talk about it around Captain Waller?” He asked.

She sniffed. “I would think that goes without saying, thank you very much.” She started to walk away but stopped, her hand on the door to the locker room. She turned back. “Out of curiosity, what makes you say that?” Rowan asked. “You never met Hugh.”

“I did not need to meet Mr. Stanford. I heard enough from how you spoke about him. The same way I saw enough when you barged into my dojo.”

She held a hand up, pointing at him. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight here. I did not barge anywhere. People were in my way and I had to make sure you two dopes weren’t about to kill each other.”

“There was barging happening.” He drank more of his electrolyte drink. “I know what barging looks like.”

“I should take you to medical,” Rowan said. “Let them know they need to look over this fossil.”

He smiled. “You learn a lot about a person by fighting them. I have learned many things about you over the years. I learned many things about him today. I like him.”

She came up off the lockers. “Yeah?” She asked and he nodded. She blushed slightly. “What’d…what’d you learn about him?” She asked.

“Those are my secrets.” Sakuraba finished his drink. “I will say this, Rowan. He was as surprised as I was to see you the way you were when you, and I use this word specifically for a reason, barged into my dojo.”

She chewed her bottom lip.

He smiled.

“You should check on him.”