TWH: Word Prompt Challenges

February Flash Fic - Day 9 - birthday

Those not in the rotation always ask what she's like when they find out he's part of her detail. His answer never varies: she's like any other client, just like any other detail any of them were ever assigned. It wasn't a reply that ever stopped the envious glances that followed. Or the questions. It was almost something he found amusing. Actually, he had found it amusing, at first.

It wasn't that she was a breeze to protect, far from it. But she was easy to be around, and was stunning in a way that snuck up on you and smacked you between the eyes when you least expected it.

He should have seen it coming, but it had never been a problem for him before. The professional distance had always come easy for him, and been easy to maintain with the others. There were rules, boundaries never to cross, that should have helped, too. Still, the fact of the matter was that he'd woken up three months into the detail to find that he looked forward to the days he would pick her up in the morning and ferry her across town. That even while he was scanning for assorted threats, he harbored various daydreams about quiet mornings in, reading the paper alongside her, making out grocery lists in prep for shared dinners, movies watched not spent half-watching the goings on of the surrounding theater but seated together at home, or better yet - time spent together in bed.

He'd thought about quietly asking for reassignment, worried that his judgement was growing increasingly impaired, but decided he could soldier through. He'd maintain his distance, remain her bodyguard, and just - exist on the sidelines of her world.

Today she has been making that decision particularly difficult to live with. It's not so much her fault, though. It's just that he's another year older, and the things he's lacking in his life seem further highlighted. Her announcement, midday, almost forces him to voice a groan but he catches himself just in time.

She'd been invited out, with friends. It would only extend the day a little longer. She just planned on making an appearance and then coming home. Two, three hours, tops.

Everyone looks to him to make the call. Final decisions on the plans for the night. Nobody dares offer the fact that he'd probably prefer knocking off earlier, rather than later. That any of them might have plans for the evening. He'd heard whispers in the pre-dawn of the locker room this morning that the team wanted to take him for drinks to celebrate the day. He still hasn't figured out how to shrug them off.

His light nod had lit up her face. That, alone, made it worth it.

But then the day wore on, as time does, and the sun started to set. When she reappeared in the hall, sparkling material of her dress hugging her figure, he simply clenched his jaw and found that spot just over her shoulder that enabled him to keep his mind on track.

"We should get you there within the hour."

The rest of the team was in the car, waiting for them. But that wasn't her concern. As they boarded the elevator he could feel her eyes on him, and he risks a sideways glance - zeroing in on her ear - to confirm it.

And find her glaring.

"I know you'll never tell me what's going on in that head of yours, or I'd tell you to just spit it out. Clenching your jaw like that can't be good for your teeth. Your dentist is probably dancing a jig every time you walk in."

He inches his eyebrows up in response, slightly startled by her outburst, and can feel his gaze start to pull to allow their eyes to meet, but then he regains himself. None of that. He settles his face into carefully crafted Neutral again, determined to maintain control, and lets his focus slip to the smooth interior of the elevator doors. "It's nothing."

But in his peripheral vision he sees when she shifts her stance, folding her arms over her chest. Is this how the night is going to go? When he could be at home attempting to make and then eat the chocolate-cake-in-a-mug he'd picked up for himself two nights ago?

She wants to know what's going on in his head? Fine. "You shouldn't go out like that."

"Excuse me?"

In hindsight, he should have kept his idiot-mouth shut. He blinks his eyes closed, resigned to his own stupidity, and puffs out a breath through his nose. Too late to rethink his actions, but maybe she'll drop it... "Never mind."

She has, at least, dropped her arms from how they'd been previously crossed. Now she's twisting in the space beside him, and shaking her head. "No, you. No. What's wrong with...?"

Crap. She's going to want to go change, now, and that will only delay the evening further. He turns to her, careful to find that safe space just over her shoulder and to the left of her ear, "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. Don't do that. Mr. Stoic. Tell me what you meant."

His gaze slips sideways to meet hers for a second and - what the hell, maybe it's cause it's his birthday and if you can't throw caution out the window on your birthday when can you? - he turns on his heel and jabs at the elevator control panel, bringing the small space to an abrupt halt in its descent.

With the alarm ringing in the background, alerting any interested parties to the lack of motion, he turns back to her and points at her with his index and middle fingers of his right hand, "You, wearing that dress, means every man in the room will have their eyes on you. And every woman will be thinking of murder."

Quick, as always, she fires back a comment as she tilts her head at him, "Is that a compliment?"

He can't help but notice the hint of a smile playing on her lips, nor can he keep from returning it. Rueful smile in place against his will, he huffs out a small laugh, "It's - it's a statement of fact. You make my life... my job," he amends, "incredibly difficult."

Her eyes flit over his features as she presses her lips together. Shit. Now he's gone and stuck his foot in his mouth. He's been so careful! Neutral banter was all he'd ever allowed before!

"If it's any consolation," her voice is soft when she parts her lips again, "you make it look easy."

"What?" He blinks, trying to recover ground as quick as he can. Cool. Calm. Collected. Where did those portions of his inner self go? And why, absurd as the urge is, does he find himself wanting to cross the small amount of space between them, erase it entirely? That won't help matters in the slightest. "Easy." He breathes out the word, half in disbelief.

"Yea. Juggling everything. Even when I'm making things difficult." She still hasn't lightened the strength of her gaze, of her assessment of him. Her eyes dip down now, taking stock of him from his feet up to the tip of his nose, "I always feel safe. With you watching out for me."

He can feel himself settle a bit under her gaze. Was that the point of her praise? To allow the night to progress? He gives her a light nod of acknowledgement, forcibly pulling his eyes away from hers, trying to shove his focus back to the safe space just over her shoulder.

"And there he goes -" she says quietly, "disappearing behind that mask."

A small scowl furrows the spot over his nose, just between his eyebrows, as he taps the button to get them in motion again.

It isn't until they reach the bottom floor that she speaks again, waiting until he's opened the lobby door for her and their ride is within view. "Happy birthday, by the way."

He freezes, only able to lock eyes with her as she draws closer. Just as she passes him by he manages to mutter, hoping the others aren't reading their lips, "You - who told you?"

"Nobody told me. I looked it up." She glances back at him, half turning away from the waiting vehicle, "Why do you think I'm wearing this dress?"