#hushed

'You should call your work, let them know you're taking off.'

You were reminded of the hefty online file lying in your mail, and the job you were supposed to commence from tomorrow. Your boss, the Captain, wouldn't be happy.

Then again, you and Dean had a protocol for situations like these: no questions asked.

You just hadn't realised that rationality would have to be specifically added in the "no questions" clause. Because you were seriously considering having your man tested one of these days . . .

'How long?'

'Indefinitely,' he replied in a monotone.

You gave him a critical eye but at least this was a fair request. You knew that his job was just as dangerous as yours; sometimes, you felt like it was worse. You knew if you would ask him to go underground with you, he would go, no questions asked.

'What's the cover?'

If he thought that someone would track you down through your office, he'd better suggest a cover. But when Dean shrugged it just made you more confused. What kind of a criminal does he chase? It was basic common sense to find someone from where they went to work, everyday.

Your boss picked up on the third ring.

'Hey, Troy.'

'L/N.' You still went by your maiden name at your office to not blow your cover eventhough on your official papers, you never changed your name back from Winchester.

You let your emotions overwhelm you for a good act. You let your anxiety about Dean from the last week grip you and it wasn't long before tears were wetting your eyes.

'My sister's been hospitalized,' your voice cracked. What you said was actually code for "Someone's after me".

Dean gave you a concerned side-eye, but he knew what a good actor you were.

'Dear Lord, again?' you rolled your eyes because the weariness in his voice was genuine. You had a penchant of being in pickles. 'Will she make it?'

'I think so,' you whispered, keeping your pretense. The story behind your "sister" was that she had an immunity disorder and was to be frequently hospitalized - this explained your frequent disappearances.

'Do you need someone for moral support? Pick your laundary or somethin'?'

Translation: did you need extra hands on deck? Pick up a dead body or somethin'?

'No, thank you. My husband's here today,' you told him, simultaneously letting him know that it wasn't your enemies after you this time. You added an artificial sniffle.

'Give him my regards,' Troy said, sounding annoyed. 'I'll transfer your assignments.'

'Ah,' Aaron said. He was the only one who knew about Dean, and he was the only one who helped you keep your cover in times like these. But he also didn't like your husband, mostly because of all the hush-hush nature of your relationship with him. After all, Aaron Troy had raised you after your parents had died, he was a father figure to you, and treated you like his daughter. Another fact that no one at your office knew.

Aaron hung up, making a smile of amusement twitch on your face. You wiped your fake/real tears and sighed.