Title: Let It Go

Author: Beth Pryor

Rating: T

Summary: A companion to Auggie and Hayley arriving back at his apartment. But it really isn't about that at all. Spoilers for canon up to and including 5x02.

Disclaimer: Covert Affairs and its characters belong to the USA Network.

A/N: This was my working title. I planned to change it like usual, but since Auggie's about the only person in the world who had no reason to watch Frozen, I kept it. And he's brought home the Pink Power Ranger. Really?

Let It Go

How was he thinking about Annie right now? It wasn't like that Keith Whitley song "Don't Close Your Eyes." Eyes open or closed, memories of her shouldn't occupy any space in this tableau. He couldn't smell or hear or touch her. She shouldn't be here with him tonight.

He knew for all intents and purposes that she was back. Though, right now she was in Venezuela with Randy McQuaid or whatever his name was. And while her body had returned, her mind remained somewhere else completely. He knew she was struggling; he could hear it in her voice even in the slight echoing of the cell phone call from a continent away, but he found himself at a loss when it came to helping her. Or at knowing exactly when he should step in. Or if he could. But he alone knew how much she needed this one – a win on an Agency-sanctioned take-down.

Despite the fact that his thoughts inevitably drifted to her more times than he could count in a day, he knew that Hong Kong and really everything about the previous year had obliterated them, and there was no going back. That had been implied by so much action and inaction long before he found his way to Helen's bed. And then he knew that she knew and then there was all that dirty work to be done and then she was gone again. And now a tiny ball of energy and (he imagined mousy brown) hair was slamming him against his living room wall while nearly simultaneously trying to remove his jacket. And all he could think about was Annie and how something was off about her. He had a feeling it was something big, but he wasn't sure if he could call her on it if he didn't know what it was.

Although, maybe it was what he'd seen before with the others like her, like him. Maybe she needed something or someone to pull her back from the "edge." He'd found himself on what he imagined was a similar precipice seven years ago, and everyone knew how swimmingly that had all turned out. He'd only been back for a few months when Ben Mercer hit his own wall. Arthur had tried to intervene, but once they'd trained you to operate in the shadows so adroitly, odds were, without something to anchor you to the light, you'd eventually dissolve into them. Helen had fallen prey to the allure and had entrenched herself too deeply to secure passage back. And as far as he knew, Ben had maintained radio silence for close to three years since he'd "come in from the cold," only to leave Annie again. And now, he recognized in Annie that same desperation that had consumed the three of them and probably several others whose names were now only represented by stars carved in granite.

But, as happened more often than he cared to count since his attempt at rebellion had gone awry, there really wasn't a thing he could do about this dilemma. Her delimma. And he was actually in the middle of something. Another voice, tinny and thin and not at all like Annie's or Helen's but real and present, pulled him back to her and his living room as she maneuvered her lithe form into a position to push him against the wall again.

"I like to be in charge. I hope that's okay."

He didn't have a chance to point out that if she was really in charge she wouldn't need to ask if it was okay before she pulled open his shirt. Then she crouched in front of him, tiny fingers deftly removing his belt and diving into his pants. He rested his head back against the blocks with a little surprised sigh of arousal as she arrived, almost expertly, at her destination and continued toward his.

Fuck it. He wasn't saving anyone tonight.