Caught Unaware

Chapter 7

HOME OF COL. JOHN CASEY

ECHO PARK, LOS ANGELES CA

It was well into the afternoon when they had finished putting her clothes away, but the end result was satisfying to look at. Her closet lined with inexpensive, but fashionable dresses, blouses and a few light jackets. The bottom held a small row of different sized shoes, Amelia planned on trying them on some other time. On the inside of the closet door hung three different purses, all different sizes, styles and colors.

Amelia's dresser was stocked full of all the clothing a woman could ever want or need. She knew how fortunate she was, having someone like John by her side exhibiting the patience needed to teach the woman things her own parents should have taught her.

Each time their fingertips made contact, their eyes locked and Amelia was always first to smile and take hers away. There was no discomfort in it, but the drive to complete the task at hand. Casey appreciated that about her as well, she was a woman on her own private mission, throwing herself into a part of living she wasn't familiar with but was bound and determined to learn how to be a part of. She was strong and versatile, adaptable and driven.

So it came as no surprise, really, that Casey was attracted to her. She wasn't your typical damsel in distress. Well, maybe she was but she was doing everything in her power to change that, and that made him feel needed in a completely different way. Amelia didn't NEED him to save her, she needed him to teach her how to save herself. That was a new and thrilling role for him.

Amelia closed the door to her closet and looked around the now-spotless room in a swelling sense of pride. Her eyes glittered with joy and she fairly glowed. This was the happiest she had been in a very long time, more so because she had done the work right along side someone helping her. Her gaze landed on Casey, who was looking at her thoughtfully, with a small half-smile playing about on his face.

She walked to him and hugged him tightly. Casey tensed as usual at the physical contact but he had a feeling that if she kept this up, he was going to learn to get use to this. From her only, of course, not that annoying weeping pond of emotion that was his roommate, Morgan.

"Thank you, John," Amelia couldn't contain the excitement in her voice. She pulled away to look up to him but still kept her arms around his waist.

"It seems so minor a thing, doesn't it? Sorting and putting away laundry? But honestly, I feel so POWERFUL after that taste of independence!" She laughed and pressed against him once again. Casey grunted in his usual way and slowly, almost reluctantly, he released his hold on her, looking down into her eyes as he did so.

"Are you ready for food?" he asked her. "I've got some things we could make if you're ready to learn about that too."

"Do you have fire insurance...you know, just in case?" smirked Amelia. Casey chuckled softly and spun her around to face the door, directing her to lead them into the kitchen.

As they passed Casey's open door, abandoned since the moment she cried out to him, Amelia happened to shoot a passing glance before dead-stopping with her mouth agape. Casey barely stopped himself from running into her.

"What..." Amelia was stunned. She'd never seen such an arsenal in her life. She didn't even think she could make out the pattern on Casey's blanket for all the weapons that covered the bed.

"...in the world?" she finished the prolonged question. She walked over to the side of the bed and reached out to touch the partially disassembled Remington but stalled her motion and looked to Casey.

He was leaning on the doorway and observed her awe in his arsenal. When she turned to him without touching the rifle, he pushed off the wall and walked to her, reaching out and lifting the barrel off the bed.