"What do the former first lady, a Baltimore cop, a convention center employee, a woman from Kansas, and a bunch of radical Muslim students from Kashmir have in common? I'm trying to see the bigger picture here, but I'm not getting it. We've found no links other than that Wesley Quirk and Naomi Beckingham came from the same small town in Kansas. We're missing a connecting element."
Seth nodded. "There has to be. And we'll find it."
As always, Coulson loved his optimism. "Hopefully, our undercover guy in Kansas will come up with more information soon."
"You know, I admire the hell out of agents who can go undercover. The stress of knowing that every little mistake could not just cost you your own life but other lives as well has to be incredible."
"Yeah, I couldn't do it. It requires a mental flexibility, the talent to be a chameleon at mirroring emotions and adapting to your environment I don't have. But apparently, this guy has done a very successful undercover operation before, so I'm hopeful he'll soon get us some good intel. The problem is you can't rush these operations. Even after investing time and effort into creating a watertight background, you have to build up trust, create a local network, gain a good reputation within the community you're trying to infiltrate. And with a small town like Derby, that's a hell of a lot harder than with a big city like, say, New York."
Seth snorted. "Dude, New York has got to be the easiest place to infiltrate into, since nobody gives a fuck. Besides, it's such an ethnic melting pot that even a non-New York accent doesn't stand out as long as you don't try to claim you're a local. Most of the people don't even know their neighbors, and they sure as fuck don't care."
"All of that is very true."
Seth shot him a quick look sideways as they came off the Chesapeake Bay Bridge back into Annapolis. "Do you miss New York?"
Coulson shook his head. "Not even a little bit. I'd never realized how healthy and freeing it would be to be physically distant from my family, but I can't tell you how amazing it is. Besides, I have a pretty sexy boyfriend here, so that alone is enough reason to prefer DC over New York."
"Pretty sexy boyfriend, huh? Where did you find him?"
Coulson put his hand on Seth's thigh, one of his favorite things to do when Seth was driving. Such a small gesture that spoke of an intimacy that made his body tingle all over. "I didn't find him. He found me."
"Damn right I did, and I have no intention of letting you go again. You're mine now. Licked and claimed."
Coulson laughed. "The next words out of your mouth had better not be that you need to put a ring on it."
Seth gasped dramatically. "Oh my god, did you just make a Beyoncé joke? You graduated from baby gay to advanced gay, boo. Well done, you."
Coulson laughed even harder, the heaviness from before lifted. "I'll be an expert before you realize it."
Seth chuckled, but then he grew more serious. "No ring again for you, boo?"
Coulson squeezed his thigh. "I didn't say that, baby. But that step is mine."
Seth put his hand on top of Coulson's, then lifted their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss on Coulson's knuckles. "Whenever you're ready. Every day with you is a gift."
9
Calix massaged his temples and, when that didn't give him the relief he had hoped for, rose from his chair. He should have done his stretching exercises yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. One would think he had learned his lesson by now, but Matthew had always half joked, half complained about Calix's stubborn streak.
He closed his eyes and slowly dropped his head sideways. His neck hurt, and while he was used to that, it had gotten to the point where it caused a headache that was one step away from a full-blown migraine, and that was just plain annoying. It had bothered him all day, and he'd tried to keep it at bay with pain killers, but when he had wanted to read a report just now, the letters had danced in front of his eyes.
Time to face the inevitable. If he wasn't going to start taking better care of himself, he wouldn't even last the first year of Del's presidency, let alone the first term and, hopefully, a second. In other words, he was an idiot.
He knew this. He'd been here before. In fact, his chiropractor had warned him repeatedly to be diligent about doing his stretching exercises. He had been. For a while. And then President Markinson had been assassinated, and his whole life had gone to hell in a handbasket. He'd thought being chief of staff to the vice president was busy, but serving the president was a whole new level of insanity.
Today had been even more stressful than usual. The knowledge it was highly likely that Mrs. Markinson had been involved in her husband's death was crushing. And Coulson's report about the man he and Seth had spotted… Nothing about it made sense.
Coulson's frustration had been crystal clear as he had relayed his findings and explained that so far, he hadn't been able to connect the dots. There had to be a link between all the people they'd tied to the assassination, but they couldn't figure it out. Calix understood his frustration, and he'd felt bad for the man after the president had shown a little more anger than usual. Del was normally quite even-tempered, but with his wife still struggling, news like this was hardly reassuring.
He slowly ran through his stretching exercises, but the pops he was hoping for didn't come. He'd pushed his muscles too far, had made them too tight to relax. Dammit. He would have to book not just an extra session with the chiropractor but probably a few with his massage therapist as well.
"Is your neck bothering you again?"
Calix spun around at the familiar timid voice. Rhett stood in the doorway, hesitant as always, a shy smile on his lips. He was so stinking cute, like a baby animal he wanted to protect and cuddle. "Yes," Calix answered him somewhat belatedly. "But it's my own fault. I really should do my exercises every day, and I don’t."
Rhett stepped into the room. "It's hard to make the time for things like that when other things seem so much more pressing and important."
Calix sighed. "Exactly. The problem is when you push the small things back long enough, they become big things, big problems. Maintenance is key, and one of these days, I'll actually practice what I preach."
Rhett giggled, a wonderfully happy sound. Warmth rolled through Calix that he had brought him some joy, even at the expense of himself. The kid usually looked so serious, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. They'd shared lunch twice more, and Calix had enjoyed getting to know Rhett better. He always needed some time to open up, as if he had to make sure Calix hadn't changed his mind, that he really liked hanging out with him. Like a shy kitten.
"Did you need anything from me, or were you just stopping by for a chat?" Calix asked. He turned around too quickly, and a spasm of pain shot through his neck. "Fucking hell, that hurts. I'm sorry. I shouldn't curse in front of you."
Rhett shrugged. "It's not like I haven't heard it all before after living in New York City for several years."
Calix dug his fingers in his neck, but he couldn't find the right spot. "I know, but I should at least strive for some level of professional language in this building. It somehow feels sacrilegious to curse here."