Cupid vs. The CIA

"I'm just saying you need to find a good guy!"

It is taking my entire Agency training not to yell at my sister. Really, how many times am I going to have to smile and nod at some guy who can't keep his mouth shut for a minute before she realizes she is more Emma than Yente? No wait, I take that back, she thinks she's cupid. "I meet guys."

Danielle doesn't look at me as she crams the last plate into the dishwasher. "I mean good guys."

I can't help it. I have to slap the rag on the counter. "I meet good guys!" I mentally wince. If my debate instructor from the Farm could hear me now, I'd be on KP and parachute-logging for the rest of training.

"Name five."

"Auggie Anderson, Conrad—" Danielle interrupts me.

"Now he's the one that's blind?"

Why is that the first thing that she remembers? Not that he taught her daughters how to whistle (even though they won't stop now) or that he was easy on the eyes (if you like neatly disheveled, of course. Which I don't!), but that he is blind. I restrain rolling my eyes. That's the human race for you. Why am I always surprised?

"Auggie? Yeah," I reply, giving her no hint of my train of thought. And she said I'd make a horrible spy!

"What does he do at the Smithsonian anyway? Surely he's not an archeologist?" Her voice goes up a bit. That means she's trying not to sound interested. Perfect, she's probably plotting a way to get us together.

"We don't only do archeology, El." I hang up the dishrag I've been wiping the counters with for the past five minutes, staling for time. Auggie never mentioned what his cover job is. I have to remember to ask him. Everyone had just assumed he worked with me when he'd come over. "He's a lawyer on retainer for the museum," I fudge. That seemed probable enough, right?

"What's that mean?"

God, she's not going to give me a break, is she? I can feel another headache coming on. They've been coming more and more frequently since I started at the Agency three months ago.

"That he's a lawyer."

"Come on, Annie. You know that's not what I mean!"

"I honestly don't." I'm actually telling the truth now. CIA training does little to help decode my sister's semantics.

She looks around the empty kitchen as if afraid someone's listening. Who would? The girls? Her husband? And isn't my job to be paranoid? "Are you allowed to date him?"

"Danielle!" Her name is terrible to say quickly. "Auggie and I are just friends."

She smiles in that older sister kind of way. I hate that smile. "So that's a yes, then?"

The headache I felt coming on has arrived. My head is throbbing. "That's a 'we are FRIENDS'."

She's still smiling. "So that means you still need to find a good guy."

I look at her, not even bothering to hide my surprise. Where had that come from? "What?" I sputter.

She ignores me. "Perfect. Roger Fawkes is dying to meet you."

I watch her leave, how in the world had a part-time housewife tricked me –a spy trained in distraction and manipulation?

My instructors would be so disappointed.

A/N: Review?