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Rain poured down from the night sky, her blonde hair hung limp around her face as her clothes clung to her body. There was no thunder. No great streaks of lightening. Nothing but a persistent and heavy downpour. It pooled in puddles along the side streets, catching reflections from the streetlights. With this setting Dany couldn’t help but think if one of them were going to die, it would be her - shot down in one of these unnamed alleys, so Jaime could swear vengeance on those who had killed her.
Everything had gone downhill so fast, which was one of the risks of the job. One minute your cover seemed safe and secure, the next Russian thugs were firing on you. She was used to that, but why did it have to go downhill while she was still in high heels? You should have worn flats. Running in high heels was the worst part of her job.Her heels nearly slipped against the wet pavement, and almost instantly there was a hand on her back to steady her.No, scratch that, the worst part of the job is running in high heels while it is raining.
“Keep running.” Jaime told her, his hand pressing against the small of her back to propel her forward.
Dany didn’t wait to make sure that he was coming with her, she just steadied herself and kept running.
Okay, maybe that was the worst part of the job. Straining your ears to make sure that someone was running along right after you. Praying that the person behind you was your partner.
Her sixteen hundred dollar boots splashed through dirty puddles as she sprinted like her life depended on it. And given the nature of her job - it did.
The CIA had approached her during her junior year of college. Right out of school she started her training for the National Clandestine Services. Now she ran covert operations with former Navy SEAL, Jaime Lannister.
“Take a left.” Jaime barked at her.
Dany hated it when he barked orders at her. If there weren’t men intent on killing them, she would have reminded him that he wasn’t her superior officer. As there were men intent on killing them, she just took the left.
This time when her heels slid against the wet pavement, she fell. She could feel her ankle twist, pain jackknifing up her leg, causing her to cry out. Her hands shot out to catch herself, as she hit the ground. Her ankle throbbed, as she tried to assess if she could get back up and run. No, I’ve twisted it. The asphalt cut into into her palms, loose stones embedded themselves into her tender skin. She didn’t bother to push herself up, if she was going to die, a dark and damp night seemed all too appropriate. I knew it would be me.
“Dany!” Jaime had been close behind her anyways, he was there, standing over her in a matter of seconds. “What happened? Have you been shot?”
Did it sound like there was any gunfire to you?
“No, I just slipped.” She said.
His hand reached out, taking hers as he pulled her out of that puddle and back on to her feet, or foot as it were. She gritted her teeth and clung to his hand. His worried green eyes checked her over, assessing the situation as quickly as he could. “You can’t run, can you?”
She shook her head, “No, I think I twisted it.” He untangled their fingers and scooped her into his arms like she weighed nothing. “I’ll slow you down.” she protested.
“I’m not leaving you behind.” And that was the end of that discussion. He broke into a run, carrying her to the end of the maze of alley ways before he set her down. It looked like they had lost the people chasing them.
Her hand found his again, clinging to him like he was her only source of strength at the moment, “Do you think we lost them?”
Jaime drew her in with his other arm, pressing his lips to her damp hair. “We lost them. What were you doing wearing high heeled boots anyways?”
“We’re undercover, I didn’t think we would have to run.”
“Don’t do it again,” he said. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, reaching up to brush the damp hair back from her face. “Don’t scare me like that again. Wear flats from now on.”
“I still might have slipped in flats.”
“Don’t argue with me just wear flats next time!”
Jaime hailed a cab for them, and Dany didn’t let him go. She couldn’t let him go. She didn’t know why, but she felt like if she let him go she couldn’t breathe.
He helped her into the cab and slid in beside her. Jaime untangled their fingers first and Dany frowned. She wanted his hand back, but he was intent on pulling her leg into his lap, unzipping her boot and checking her ankle. He prodded the tender skin, and muttered something about how they would put ice on it. She couldn’t really hear him, the beating of her heart drowned out his voice. It hammered in her chest as all she could think about was how she could have died tonight.
Which was an stupid train of thought. This was not the first time she had to run. People had shot at her before, but it was the first time she had everthought she was going to die.
Idiot. I’m such an idiot.
When the cab came to a stop Jaime slid out first, holding his hand out for hers again. Her fingers clasped his, she felt like she could breathe again. Her lips hit his as she stood up, he tasted of rain and sweat, and as she kissed him she tried to promise she wouldn’t leave him. His fingers tangled in her curls as her own clutched his hand. She didn’t want to let him go.
That was what we were both scared of wasn’t it? Leaving one another?
Leaving him scared her. It scared her more than anything ever had before.
Tonight had been the first time she had thought she was going to die. Tonight she decided she wouldn’t. Not on this mission, or any other. Not if it meant leaving him.
Her hand clutched his tighter, her lips kissed him with an edge of desperation. Her kisses sealed a promise, I’m not going anywhere.