One Shots

To Protect and Hold [Straight]

To Protect and Hold

Blair turns the music up even louder when the knocking on her bedroom door increases. She mutters curses at the man banging on her door trying to invoke a response from her and threatening her to open the door. She just rolls her eyes, and continues painting her toenails a lovely violet colour while the rest of her freshly moisturised figure air-dries. When the pounding by his fists stops, she can hear him try a new approach as he batters his body against the wooden frame to try forcefully enter.

Blair snorts in amusement. She won't let that happen again, not with the new deadbolt she installed early this morning. Anger consumes Blair as she thinks about how her stupid ex-husband's mistakes are now costing her her privacy and independence. Stupid Andy. She just had to fall for the big shot FBI agent didn't she? And now look where that's got her?

Even after the heartbreak and messy divorce, she's still stuck in his mess-not really having got rid of him. But what she doesn't understand is why? Sure they ended things officially just 4 months ago but the marriage had ended far longer than that and with the knowledge that Blair hadn't been his only wife; she clearly doesn't mean all that much to him so why insist on the absolutely damned security around her. Obviously no Cartel or underworld boss or whoever Andy's crossing swords with these days, are going to come after a small town, divorcee seamstress so there is just no need for the buffoon he's posted outside her door. It infuriates her so much that he actually has the audacity to believe he has any say in the running of her life anymore after the emotional torture he's put her through.

She forcefully twists the nail polish brush into its pot before glancing across at the straining door. Her eyes are unable to stop from staring at the straining deadbolt screws, which crane with pressure and in the next horrific moment it gives completely, causing a hulking beast of a man to tumble into her now open bedroom.

He rises slowly to his full 6 foot 3 frame, scanning meticulously the area with his sharp, sterling grey eyes that widen at the sight of his fully nude client. He quickly spins around, forcing the blush that takes over his cheeks and the tops of his ears to settle before clearing his throat.

Blair rakes her eyes up and down the fabulously back view of her bodyguard. Christian Chandler sure is something else. With an athletic body frame, short cut dirty blonde hair and masculine chiselled features; Blair could have definitely used him for some rebound séx. Unfortunately he's her stubborn, stern jailer and despite everything she's done to try and drive him away, bribe him or flat out refuse him; he has an uncanny knack for getting his way. For a redhead with the stereotypical spirit of a redhead, Blair hates that he can do that all the more. So she pushes him. Sees how far she can goad him before he finally snaps and runs back to his employers with his tail between his legs. Not far enough it seems. She'd been sure the deadbolt would work but it seems that she'll have to be having stern words with the customer service centre of the DIY store she bought it from.

"Miss White, would you please put some clothes on?" he evenly asks the mask falling back into place. Blair narrows her eyes at his broad, black pullover clad back. How far will he go? Wicked thoughts in mind she reaches for her thin white, almost see-through robe and slips it in through her arms, not bothering to belt it up. Turning down the music she turns back to face him.

"Sure," she shrugs.

He slowly turns around but seeing her in a useless robe that fails to hide anything, Christian's eyes narrow and a small wrinkle forms on his forehead from his disapproval.

"Miss White," he sighs deciding to boycott her little games, "no deadbolts on the door please. And next time if I am to knock, it is important you acknowledge that. Should you be in a captive or dangerous situation-"