[Massachusetts Ave., 7:53PM]
Since she woke up this morning, Kate had spent more time in the car than out of it. A few years back, when she had been assigned to Quantico, putting a down payment on the little house in Fredericksburg had seemed like a good idea. It was close to the Academy, near enough to the city that it was no problem getting there if she needed to for some reason, and it had seemed an ideal place to make a life for herself and her kids. Except now, with her transfer, it was an hour and a half drive to work not allowing for traffic, she was on the third trip of the day, and if she was going to be perfectly honest with herself, she hadn't done much in the way of making a life - at least, not one outside the Bureau - as Dillon had oh, so helpfully reminded her a few hours before.
Her luggage already packed and in the trunk of the car in preparation for her late flight to North Dakota, she had turned her attention to getting ready for dinner with Josh. She certainly hadn't noticed taking any extra care with her appearance, but about the time she had released her hair from the French roll she favored during working hours, she gave up trying to convince herself that it was just business. Ever observant, Dillon had the whole thing figured out long before that. She hadn't broken form under his intensive questioning. Not until he summed up his interrogation by saying, "My God, Mom, it's been so long, you don't even know a date when you're about to go on one!"
Kate eased her car into a parking space half a block up the street from Marino's with about a minute to spare. As she was reaching for the door handle, she spotted Josh approaching from the opposite direction. She settled back and took the moment to watch him as, unaware of being observed, he went up to the door, paused almost imperceptibly, then went inside. He moved with an athletic grace that obviously took work to maintain, particularly for one with a desk job. The part of Kate's mind that governed tactical strategies and defensive measures noted that it was a good thing they were on the same side. Another less strategic part echoed the sentiment.
[Marino's, 8:07PM]
"Now, you were going to tell me about this fishing trip, if I recall correctly," Josh asked. Whether he was more interested in hearing the story or simply changing the subject, Kate couldn't tell. She judged that perhaps it was an equal measure of both.
Kate smiled at the memory of the trip, more to cover her own discomfort than out of mirth. It hadn't been funny at the time, but in the end, no permanent damage had been done. There were times when she actually enjoyed relating the events, but today, her grandfather's presence had been with her more than usual, and a wave of nostalgia threatened to overwhelm her if she wasn't careful.
"I'm sure the version of the story Ernie got from my Grandfather is much more entertaining than the truth. He had a way of adding details to every story that were just strange enough to sound like no one could possibly make them up."
The waiter reappeared just then with the wine, providing a dramatic pause that was, to say the least, unwarranted. Kate waited while he uncorked the bottle, poured a bit into Josh's glass and waited for approval. It was an antiquated custom which Kate usually found mildly insulting. This time, however, it seemed somehow appropriate. Approval given, the waiter filled their glasses and departed without another word.
"You were saying?"
"Well, every year we spent a week at this little cabin up in the Allegheny Mountains. Seven days of sitting in a row boat waiting for a fish to get hungry enough to sacrifice itself for a bit of unappetizing bait. At the time, it was my idea of purgatory. The year in question, Dad's partner decided to come along, and I was determined to impress him." Kate paused to sample the wine. It was a pleasant vintage, slightly sweet, that would contrast nicely with the Italian spices the chef and proprietor of Marino's tended to over-use.
"So, did it work?"
"Oh, I made quite an impression. Third day out, they were debating the merits of revolvers versus semi-automatics. Playing the demure little lady, I was feigning total disinterest when out of the blue, Paul asked me if I wanted to learn how to shoot. Now, I grew up with guns. When I was nine, Dad bought a little .22 and took me out to an orchard where I practiced shooting apples out of trees. But I wasn't about to tell Paul that, and Dad was playing along. I think he was quite amused by the whole thing. In retrospect, I'm sure they were setting me up, because why else would they have brought a gun onto the boat? But there it was, all of a sudden in my hand and Paul was pointing to a tree on the shore. While I was lining up my shot, they placed wagers on whether or not I could hit it. I squeezed the trigger and the next thing I knew, we were all in the water."
"More kick than you anticipated," Josh asked through a smirk that was threatening to become laughter.
"Actually, I suspect that one of them tipped the boat intentionally, because it worked just fine when I tried it the next day. No one ever confessed, though. Anyway, there we were in the middle of the lake. Dad was laughing hysterically and I was furious until we realized that Paul was no where to be seen. We searched on our own for about half an hour before we went back to the cabin to contact the ranger's station. I was beyond panic. I just knew that he was dead and it was entirely my fault."
"What happened?"
"Two hours later, Paul wandered back to the cabin just like nothing ever happened. Apparently, when the boat capsized, he hit his head. He blacked out and came to a few minutes later on the shore about a hundred yards away. He hid in the woods just to see what we would do. Or so he said."
There was a long moment of silence while Kate let her mind drift back in time and Josh studied her reaction. "You were very close to your grandfather," he commented to break the silence.
The sound of his voice brought her back to the present and broke the melancholy spell that had held her for a moment. Kate gazed at him over the rim of her wine glass and smiled. "Handsome and perceptive," she said. "Good combination."
Whatever reaction Josh might have had to the comment was covered by the arrival of dinner. Judging from the aroma, Mr. Marino had been merciful for a change and held back on the tarragon and oregano. Kate twirled a single strand of spaghetti onto her fork and sampled it. Not bad.
"So, shall we get the business out of the way," Kate asked, suddenly realizing that Josh probably expected to continue that portion of the afternoon's conversation as well. "What about this Agent Smith?"
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