Paris IV

Sergei's the one that helps Ryan figure it out what to do next.

He's also the one who helps him commandeer Yana Starkov's Range Rover.

He makes a quick phone call to his local security team in the area, telling them to meet him at the rendezvous point Sergei claims Ivan will take Annie.

"I'm thinking this might require a raise on my premium for the helicopters." Sergei muses, handing Ryan a set of keys as they walk along the outside of the embassy, toward the back of the building where the vehicles are kept. "I didn't realize who your friend was, so I did some digging. Moscow would be happy to have her. They'd be less happy knowing I've helped her evade being caught."

"Keep Starkov out of my hair, and you can have whatever premium you want." Ryan assures him. He hesitates before climbing into the SUV, turning back to face Sergei. "I know how dangerous this is for you. I won't forget it."

"You never do." Sergei grins, bowing his head. "And neither will I."

The Russian holds out his hand, an uncharacteristic offering of camaraderie. Ryan takes it.

"It's been fun, Mikhailovich."

"A pleasure, as always, McQuaid."

When he finds Ivan all but waterboarding Annie in the fountain, it's all he can do not to shoot the bastard in the back of the head where he stands. He shoots him in the shoulder instead though, and as Ivan falls into the water, Annie pulls herself out.

His two men work to secure Ivan, and Ryan works to keep Annie on her feet long enough to get her somewhere she can sit. Her eyes are wild, her breathing still labored, and she would've fallen down again had he not been there to catch her. Before they can make it across the street to the bench within walking distance, she becomes sick.

He pulls back her hair for her, the distant fear that this could be some adverse affect of whatever Ivan gave her floating in the back of his head.

"Why are you helping me?" Annie manages a hoarse whisper, barely audible as they continue walking toward the bench. She won't meet his eyes, a mixture of pride and shame keeping her own locked on anything but him.

Ryan doesn't answer right away. He helps her sit, watching his boys lead Ivan back down the street to their McQuaid Security issued SUV in cuffs.

"Well?" Annie asks again.

"Because," Ryan replies, "I want to take you to out to dinner, remember?"

His response has its intended affect; she laughs at him.

Annie agrees to let him make the phone call to Joan Campbell.

Ryan steps away, giving Annie her space. The phone rings while he watches her from a distance. She looks exhausted.

After waiting to be transferred to a secure line, Joan finally answers. He's fairly certain she doesn't trust him out of principle, but his assurance that Annie is alive and well pushes aside any animosity or ill will she may still harbor toward him. The relief in her voice is unmistakable, but the momentary glimpse of Joan's softer side leaves just as quickly as it came, and she immediately reverts to her business as usual persona that she's known so well for.

She agrees to send in a sweep team, and will be using her contacts inside the Russian embassy at home to smooth any ruffled feathers that may come from the nights events. Ryan's men will deliver Ivan to Charles de Gaulle where a secure transport will take him back to the states.

Joan's number one priority is making sure Annie makes it home, and she says in not so many words that if it doesn't happen, she'll hold him personally responsible.

"And Ryan…" Joan's voice crackles over the connection.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"What's the news on Ivan?" Annie asks as he walks back over to her.

"Sweep team says he's going to live." Ryan pulls up one of the few patio chairs scattered across the small garden area and sits next to her.

"Good." She takes a deep breath, her voice still coarse. "It'd be a waste of all this, if he died."

They fall into an uneasy silence. Ryan can see the gears spinning in her head, the distant, far away look that he knows all too well. She's beating herself up, the defeated look in her eyes dulling the usual fierce glint of determination he usually saw there.

"I don't have a towel, but…" He pulls the handkerchief out of his suit pocket. "It's ok. It's clean."

Annie looks at him directly for the first time since he pulled her out of the fountain. Her distant, faraway look melts into an amused half-smile. Ryan smiles back at her, ducking his head bashfully.

"Forget about it." He chuckles. "The wet look kind of works for you anyway."

Annie starts laughing, her face falling into her hands, her shoulders shaking.

The laugh turns into a silent sob.

"Hey." Ryan touches her knee.

She pulls her hands away, looking at him, forcing herself to pull it together.

"You ok to walk from here?" He asks quietly.

She seems confused. It's as if she'd expected him to go into full blown interrogation mode, asking her a thousand questions she didn't want to answer, but instead he does the exact opposite. He's there, but he let's her be. He won't leave, but he still gives her space.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She nods.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're lucky I'm a good shot. Or the sweep team would've been picking up a body instead of a potential source of information." Ryan tells her offhandedly as they walk down the street, their silhouettes dancing in the glow of the golden street lights, the Eiffel tower against the skyline in the distance.

"What the hell happened to you?" She asks suddenly. He marvels at how her mind works, how there are moments where she can jump from one thing to another in a blink and back again, and how she forgets absolutely nothing.

"Happened?" He repeats, wounded. "I saved you. You're welcome." The last bit is rather indignant, but he finds it justified.

"But I remember seeing you before I collapsed." Annie persists. "Where did you go?"

"Ivan started to wake up, I couldn't exactly just carry you out without getting noticed."

"Oh, so you let him take me." As the drug wears off, her lively attitude returns two fold, both a blessing and a curse.

"The FSB sends all its high value interrogation suspect to Moscow, so I knew I had some time to intercept you before they dragged you out of the country." Ryan explains matter-of-factly, though he thinks it may be in vain. If there's one thing he's learned about Annie, it's how hard it is to convince her she's wrong.

"It was taking kind of a big risk with my life." Annie volleys back.

The other thing he's learned is that there are moments when she is insufferable.

"Ok- look," He stops, spinning to face her. "I'm sorry I didn't have more time to think of a better plan, but I did save you."

There's no question of his sincerity. If something had happened to her that he could have prevented, he never would have forgiven himself. He only wishes there were an easier way to make her understand that without actually having to say it.

She does hear him though.

Something in her eyes changes.

"Thanks." She murmurs.

Ryan nods, and continues walking. She follows a step behind him at first, but before long they're shoulder to shoulder again. He likes it better that way.

AN: The Paris chapters continue. There are just so many fun things for me to right about and interject my ideas into. I'm sure you're all sick of Paris by now. I promise we'll get to the next episode soon enough. ;)

My apologies to Epona3 for not having enough Auggie in these last few chapters, lol!

Thanks for the reviews crazies! xoxo