A/N: I feel like I've been gone forever. Life has been crazy lately. But you don't care about that. So, I was temporarily under the control of my Naughty Muse and she made me post this. I think she might have gotten a little carried away. . .Enjoy!

Thanks Phoenix!

Disclaimer: I don't own Covert Affairs or its characters. Only my wicked ideas. ;)

Warning: What to rate this really put me in a conundrum, because while "adult themes" are present, they aren't exactly acted out. So, it's T but with a strong qualifier. If too many people are offended, I'll bump up the rating.

Lessons

Annie makes her way to Auggie's office with a little less pep in her step than usual. Her mind is preoccupied with the upcoming mission Joan just tasked her to do.

"You'll need to get the computer chip within five feet of Berkin's laptop and keep it there until Auggie can hack in and download the intel."

"When do I leave?"

"Go see Auggie now. He'll outfit you with the necessary tech."

"All right."

"Annie? One more note."

"Yeah?"

"Berkin likes his hired companions to be aggressive, dominant. Think you can handle it?"

"No problem."

But there is a problem, because Annie's never been overly forceful or commanding with any of her previous partners. She's always been confident about her sexual talents—at least she's never gotten any complaints—but S&M is not her usual style. She's not as "vanilla" as her sister sometimes teases her of being, but Annie still considers herself a shade of cream compared to others.

Just the thought of having to act the part of dominatrix puts her on edge. That she'll be performing said act for a mark adds a dollop of nervousness to the mix. And the cherry on top is knowing that her coworkers - possibly even her boss - are going to be listening in on and monitoring the whole encounter. Anxiety bubbles in her stomach as she makes her way down the hallway.

She may be trained to take on different personas to get the job done, but this is more than a little out of her comfort zone. What if she botches the mission because she can't portray her alias convincingly? What if she can't be badass enough to pull this op off?

Reaching Auggie's office, Annie comes to an abrupt stop when she sees the leather bustier on a wire mannequin. The black outfit looks tight, uncomfortable, and like it's not going to cover nearly enough skin. Shiny red laces snake in and out of links down the middle of the bodice in an X pattern, but don't quite bring the two sides of the garment together. "Risque" doesn't begin to describe the outfit.

"I'm supposed to wear that?" Annie asks, incredulous. Maybe if she wasn't going to be wearing this in front of a complete stranger she wouldn't mind the sexy number, but few people have seen her in so little clothing, and even fewer have seen her in something so. . .scandalous. She wonders if Auggie knows just how revealing the outfit is, but quickly decides she doesn't want to know.

Auggie spins his chair to face her. "It was all we could find on such short notice. If you have your own mic-equipped, leather corset at home, I'm sure you could pick it up on your way to the hotel."

She dodges his underlying inquiry about the kind of lingerie she owns by asking, "Mic-equipped you say?"

Auggie stands and approaches the wire mannequin. He reaches out, exploring the garment until he finds the links down the middle of the corset. Then he drags his finger up the laces until he gets to the top-right link. Annie's eyes track his movements, one of the anxious bubbles in her stomach bursting into a warm tickle.

"This link is a tiny, short wave microphone," he explains. "I'll be able to hear everything."

Annie barely contains an unprofessional groan. That's what she was afraid of. Instead, she makes a sound of acknowledgment, then turns her attention to the other items lining his workspace. Annie blushes when she sees the other "tech" that's at her disposal. At least the handcuffs and blindfold are familiar, but she's not as versed in using a riding crop and the other items laid out before her.

"Joan said this op didn't have to become too involved," Annie says, emphasizing the last word. "This seems involved to me."

"Don't worry. Once you get the microchip—which I'm putting in your cell phone now—near the computer, it should only take me a few minutes to download the information."

He snaps the cover of her mission-issued cell phone shut, and hands it over, adding, "These toys are mostly for show."

"Riiight," Annie says, fingering what she believes to be a ball-gag and cringing slightly. She can't hide the uneasiness in her voice.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"You sound worried."

Annie sighs. She can never conceal anything from him; he's really the most perceptive man she's ever met.

"Berkin's into S&M," she states flatly.

"Yeah, so?"

"Just. . .yeah," Annie echoes.

He seems to sense the root of her distress. "It's just a little acting, Annie. Don't psych yourself out. You'll be fine."

"It's more than a little acting, Aug. What if this Berkin makes me for a fake? What if he realizes I'm not an experienced Dom?"

She knows she's overreacting and that—as a trained agent—she should have more control over her emotions and over her anxiety. As a woman comfortable with her sexuality, she shouldn't be intimidated by what some consider experimentation. That doesn't change the fact that the situation makes her completely uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Auggie doesn't tease her or tell her to "man up." He doesn't treat her like the inexperienced agent that she is and Annie appreciates that more than anything.

"Okay," Auggie says, crossing his arms. "Give me your best dominatrix voice."

"What?" she asks, her face suddenly burning. "No way."

"I never pegged you for being timid in the bedroom," he comments, one eyebrow raised in genuine curiosity.

"I'm not timid," she argues.

She can see him fight with a smile, but his voice remains serious. "If you can't do it with me, you won't be able to do it with Berkin."

"What kind of logic is that?"

"Annie," he says firmly.

"Fine." She caves and squares her shoulders, taking up the challenge. "Come here, uh, you worm."

Auggie's mouth drops open a little, but she doubts it's because he's blown away by her lack-luster performance. Saying something like that to Auggie—at least without any liquid encouragement—makes her feel super self-conscious. What's more nerve-wracking is that he's right. If she can't say the words in front of Auggie, how is she ever supposed to be comfortable enough to say them in front of Berkin?

She didn't realize just how terrible she'd be at this kind of role-play. How can she play the part of a hooker just fine, but can't manage a little trash talk and aggressive behavior? It shouldn't be that difficult.

"That's really all you've got?" he asks. "That was not sexy."

"I feel silly saying it," she admits.

"Oh boy, have we got some work to do."

"I leave within the hour."

"All right, we need a little S&M 101," Auggie says, taking up his laser cane.

"And you're going to teach me?" Annie asks. "What makes you qualified?"

"Do you really wanna know the answer to that question?" he asks with a wolfish grin. "I'm not really a spank-and-tell kinda guy."

Annie's mind is instantly flooded with images and she bites her bottom lip to keep her groan from escaping. "Let's just do this."

He nods. "Follow me. Bring the crop."

Auggie turns, forcing Annie to grab the leather-tipped riding crop and follow him. She tries to hold it behind her back to stave off the curious looks of office dwellers, but she feels their eyes following her down the hallway.

Auggie leads her to a supply closet near the break room. Annie closes the door behind her, turning on the light for her benefit.

"Now we're away from distractions," he says, suddenly serious. "Don't be embarrassed. Don't hold back. Pretend that I'm Berkin and tell me what to do."

She hesitates because of his intensity, amazed at how he switches from lighthearted teasing to serious in the blink of an eye. Never in her life would Annie have predicted that signing up with the CIA would lead to a crash course on sadomasochism in a supply closet with her handler.

"Annie. . ."

"Sorry. Okay. . ..Come here and get on your knees."

He shakes his head. "Not working. Where's your oomph? Annie, you have to own it. Become the femme fatale. Find the character."

She exhales in frustration. "Auggie, this is never going to work. I feel like an idiot."

"Stop! I don't wanna hear you speak! Keep your mouth shut until I say otherwise! Understood?"

His sudden yelling startles her into silence, her eyes going wide. He's never shouted at her like that before.

At her silence, he smiles. "See what I did there?" he asks. "Oomph."

He sweeps his hand out in her direction, inviting her to try again based on his example.

Annie takes a moment to compile all the images and stereotypes she associates with S&M in her mind. She needs to get over her discomfort and do this right. She's running out of time to practice.

"I'm the one in charge here!" she yells back, finding her voice and just going for it. The volume of her voice surprises her, but she continues, "I make the rules and you will obey them!"

"Or what?" he challenges, his voice dropping a full octave lower than she's used to. The deep timbre of his voice is distracting and oddly arousing, but she tries to concentrate.

"Or I will have to teach you a lesson!" she threatens.

Thwack! The riding crop in her hand suddenly connects with his upper arm.

"Ow," he mumbles, rubbing the point of contact.

"Sorry!"

"No, no," he dismisses with another grin. "It's better. Don't stop. Punish me."

She strikes him with the crop again, but not quite as hard. Annie thinks she likes the way the thin rod slices through the air with little resistance, making the motion almost effortless. Maybe this won't be so hard after all.

A hint of teasing disappointment creeps into her voice as she asks, "Didn't I tell you to get on your knees?" She moves closer to him in the small closet. "On. Your. Knees!"

This time she brings the tip of the crop down on the palm of her own hand, using the crack to emphasize her words.

Auggie drops to the ground. She watches as his Adam's apple bobs with a harsh swallow. She hadn't really expected him to obey her.

Now what? she thinks, an ounce of her former anxiety returning.

"Circle your prey," Auggie whispers as a hint. "Use what you have."

Annie does as he says, her heels clicking on the floor of the closet as she slides past him in the enclosed space. Her body rubs up against him, sending shocks all through her nervous system. She circles him twice, tapping him with the crop a few times. On her second round, she drags the tip of the crop across his chest and down the column of his back before bringing it back up to his neck.

Annie can feel herself slipping into the character, her fears and inhibitions abating. Auggie's impromptu lesson is really working. Or maybe that's just because it's Auggie. Maybe acting out something this intimate isn't as intimidating because of who she's doing it with. Even though she's never had fantasies involving a riding crop, she admits to having fantasies about her handler on more than a few occasions.

She pushes those thoughts from her mind and refocuses on the task at hand. Stopping behind him, she leans in and whispers, "Hands behind your back, Anderson."

Auggie obeys again, clasping his hands at the base of his spine. His breathing is heavy, but he's not trying to hide it. Annie wonders if it's just part of the act, but she's not so sure. She tugs on the ends of his hair until his head is tilted back and she can see his eyes. Lust clouds them. Annie's breath hitches in her throat at the sight of him.

She gazes at his slightly parted lips, her head unconsciously dipping closer, wanting to bring her lips down to his mouth. Annie wants to taste him like she does in her fantasies, but she hesitates again because this isn't one of her harmless daydreams. If she does this, lines are going to blur and dissolve. Then again, Annie was always one to color outside of the lines. . .

With her fingers threaded into his hair, Annie leans over his face, bringing her lips closer to his. Just as her lips skim over his, barely touching, the supply closet door opens.

"Annie, the van is here to take us to the h-hotel," Jai says, glancing at the pair of them before quickly averting his eyes and staring at the floor.

Annie's body snaps back into an upright position and her hand drops from Auggie's head. Her face has a distinct pulse from blushing so furiously in humiliation.

"We're almost done here," Auggie tells Jai as though nothing out of the ordinary is going on, as though he and Annie were just discussing where to go get lunch or some other mundane topic.

Jai doesn't respond as he closes the door, leaving Annie and Auggie alone again. The intensity of the moment between them has passed.

Auggie clears his throat. "So I'm guessing you were going to secure my hands and feet, leave me helpless and unable to move, and then go steal the intel from my laptop?"

She'd almost forgotten that he was pretending to be Berkin. Something tells her that Auggie forgot that pretense at some point too.

Annie helps him stand. "Yeah," she says. "Something like that."

"Good. I think you're ready. Now, let's get you suited up so we can leave."

Annie pauses over the wording of his sentence, then asks, "Wait, 'we'?"

But Auggie has already left her alone in the supply closet, the riding crop dangling limply from her hand.

A/N: Well? This started out as a one-shot, but I'm thinking it might need another chapter. What say you?

Reviews would be lovely. :)