Quiet Tension

Protection

Playing checkers is an unexciting as I might have thought it would be. Simon beats me, of course - his strategic skills are unparalleled, and I frown as I lose twice in a row.

"Okay, I'm done," I say, getting up and putting myself back up onto the couch.

"Sore loser," he says as he picks up the pieces.

"No, that's unrelated," I say dryly.

"Mhm," he says, and I grab a book out of the backpack that I brought.

Sitting down next to me, he pulls my legs into his lap - an act of comfortability that I choose to not acknowledge - and looks over. "What've you got?"

"Agatha Christie," I say.

"I used to read those," he says, his voice trailing off in what I assume is a memory. "Would you like to read to me?"

"Okay," I say, and crack it open, starting to read while keeping an eye on the time.

I feel the presence of Simon in this moment, his hands wrapped around my ankles and long legs spread out beneath him. He watches me as I read, his dark eyes peering through his mask. His thumb works back and forth across the tie of my boot laces. The heat of his body absorbs into mine, and I have to force myself to focus on the words.

Soon enough, it's time for me to get to work. Simon stands behind me as I wait for the go-ahead from Price - I'll need to have everything turned off by the time they're one minute out. Once I hear his crackling voice on the radio, I click each of the doors, and then each of the alarm systems, and turn them all off. I don't have a video feed of the mission, and part of me is glad, because I would be all the more worried. All I can see is the security system, and I'll be able to watch if anything comes up.

"Good work," he says, and we replace ourselves back onto the couch, Simon offering to watch the screens so I can continue to read to him. This time, he kicks his feet up to the other side of the couch where I am, and I'm basically in between his legs. It feels closer, more intimate, and I continue to remind myself that we can't happen.

No matter how much I may want to, it's just easier this way. I hope he gives up soon. I've grown fond of him, and I don't want to cause him pain.

We sit in the quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of the computer and the droning of my words. The time passes, and Price radios through that they're out of the compound. I quickly flick everything back on, taking apart the equipment and putting it into the corner so we can grab it and go. Now we'll wait for the next few hours until we get the go ahead to leave.

I fight the urge to yawn - this whole thing is tiring me out - and Simon lets out a low laugh as my words slow.

"Close your eyes for a minute," he says, gently taking the book from my hands and pulling his legs back, grabbing me under my arms and placing me down next to him, head on his lap.

"Only a minute," I say, and feel his gloves against my hair as I drift off.

However long I was asleep, I'm suddenly awoken by a distant, but loud, banging noise. I jolt awake at the same time Simon stands up, grabbing his rifle and standing in front of the door. He transforms in that moment.

Another noise, closer this time. He motions for me to get to the back of the house, and I tuck myself into the bathroom.

Then faint voices and shouting sound, even closer now.

"Ivy," Simon says, his voice low. "You stay down, you understand me?"

"Simon," I whisper, fear raking through me.

He doesn't turn around. "You're safe with me."

Though I know I am, it doesn't help. I sigh, defeated at our situation. Scared of what might happen.