The Shield (Prince Harry fanfic #2)

Chapter Twelve

"Sir," a man called, one of Harry's security called. His eyes were pulled away from the people who walked in and out and his mind was pulled from the sound of buzzing of the television behind him. His blue eyes met the man. "We found Miss Lucille Smith."

Harry swallowed. This was his choice. Was he to save her? He doubted she needed to be saved. He doubted she wanted to be saved. But he could see again. He could speak to her again. He wished to do it, perhaps sass her, perhaps have something purely genuine. Even if it was for a moment, and then he would be done. At least he would able to say good-bye, which was a lie. He only wanted to say hello, until the end of time. And if he was to show up, say hello, be there, what would she think? Would Lucy be angry or would she laugh? He didn't know; he couldn't read her. He wanted to go, wherever she was. As well as she deserved her journal back.

"Where is she?" Harry asked.

"A book store, miles away."

"You found her?" Harry meant his men.

"No, sir, rather paparazzi found her. They have the bookstore surrounded. She hasn't left for an hour. More and more pictures of her are coming in, being released on numerous news websites." He paused. "Sir, she will have a very difficult time getting out of there. More paparazzi just show up at the moment."

Harry knew, easily, Lucy wouldn't want to be saved. However, there was a chance she needed it. He wanted to give her the best chance of survival, but the world was coming for her. There was a chance he needed to return the favor of survival. She saved him; perhaps, he was meant to save her now.

"Make the arrangements and get the car ready," Harry ordered. A few more words were spoken by him, quickly and crisply, a command.

"Yes, sir." The man nodded and left.

Breathing deeply, he couldn't fully believe what he was about to do. This wasn't his usual plan, because he mostly never got involved. This was such a Prince Charming for him to do, and he almost hated it. It tasted terrible on his tongue. These were conniving plans, and he wanted no part of it. However, he was willing to do this once, only once. He didn't want to be what everyone expected.

Harry dressed cleanly, quickly enough, the suit almost like gear. This suit wasn't like the others, a little cheaper. It was still expensive, like everything he wore, but it was made in perfect duplicate. The duplicate was worn too.

Two similar cars pulled away from Kensington Palace, one newer and shiner. The other was a little older and dull. Each car held a man who was pale, ginger, blue-eyed, standing at six feet and one inch. One man wore heels in his shoes. With their matching looks, haircut and suits, it was almost impossible for people to tell them apart, which was the whole point. With the shadows of the sun starting to fall behind the tall buildings, it was even better. The cameras would catch him going in, and they would follow with all their might. The paparazzi were about to get a wild surprise.

Both cars exited Kensington Palace at the same time and drove in the same direction, with matching drivers, until the first car split off to go behind. The second car drove forward, parking in front of a shop with flowers inside. A few doors down was the bookstore.

"Ready, sir?" asked the driver.

Harry stared forward. This was his last chance. However, the favor needed to be returned. "Yes."

The driver stared forward. Behind their car parked two more cars. One was Harry's security, in case things got too out of hand. He doubted it. Then was the other car, including a female security officer for the royal family. She stepped out, dressed as any partying girl, ready to go out for the night. She wore heels with her hair and makeup done, and you never would've known she served in the Britain Armed Forces, or that she graduated at the top of her class or that she could beat you up with ease. Tonight, she played a part, like many of her coworkers did.

Harry stepped out of the car, and his eyes locked with the agent. He nodded, and his door closed behind him. As if he was trying to make a quick getaway inside of the floral shop, he moved. However, the agent screamed, loud and high-pitched, as if seeing her celebrity crush for the first time, filled with excitement and awe. The scream made at least a few paparazzi look over, and then there was a mad rush of feet.

At first it had been who can make it to him fast enough, and then it the camera light already flashing. There was no good angle in a rush, but none of the paparazzi cared for a good angle. They wanted the juicy story. Why was he here? Who was he personally getting flowers for? Was it a girl? Was Harry finally getting married? Who was she? What did she want? It didn't matter the flowers or perhaps they weren't for a girl, but the lies that would've came from one picture.

Harry put his head down and pushed to the door. For a few seconds, he waited, looking around. The store clerk watched him, before he nodded and disappeared into the back. In a matter of a seconds, his duplicate came forward. Their eyes met, and he went to the front of the store. The duplicate, Harry's double, well trained and could've won an Oscar, knew how to keep his head down and smell the flowers. He looked enough like Harry, but there was always one thing that didn't match. He hid himself well in the flowers, taking them in. Thankfully, the front window to the store was decorated too, making it harder to see a difference. This didn't stop the paparazzi from shoving each other, all for just a picture of the Prince of Wales.

Harry ducked out the back, and no one was the wiser. A driver was waiting for him, but he preferred to jog. The backdoor of the bookstore was propped open for the natural heat and array of customers to walk in, and Harry did. He unbuttoned his light jacket and smiled, knowing he would see her again.