An AU.

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Erica Murphy has had an entire lifetime of her parents completely stifling her. Where was she at all times, who was she with, ridiculous curfews, straight A's or else. Nuns that would tell her parents the first time she slipped up and talked out of turn or whispered during weekly mass. It did exactly what people on the outside looking in would

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[yippiekiyaymf]

Said security detail is part of the way John McClane makes ends meet. Yeah the GI bill covers all his school expenses, but food, clothing and shelter were on his own dime.

That's not to say he doesn't toss a few back at a sports bar every week while watching the game, but that's about the only extravagance he can afford. When the call comes in, he puts down his school book, and heads out the door.

That must be his client there -- the cute, blonde girl right under the light. Another party hearty type, burning through mommy and daddy's money. This one has legs that won't quit, he notices despite himself. He tries, and probably fails, not to look judgmental as he walks up to her, and shows her his Security badge.

"Escort service," he says. "McClane."

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Putting out her cigarette, she makes sure it's definitely out before tossing the butt in the trash. "Great. Nothing more safe than standing alone at night waiting for someone to come get you."

She starts walking, slowly though, in the direction of the girl's dorm.

[yippiekiyaymf]

Really. Well, he's going to have to get used to the people with more money than him treating him like he's got no purpose in life besides catering to them if he's going to be a cop. Consider it another kind of homework, McClane.

"You're welcome," he says with bland politeness and a perfectly straight face. He falls in beside her, eyes scanning the area carefully, because no one, even someone much worse than a frivolous, rich, co-ed, deserves to be sexually assaulted.

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"She looks back at the frat house, knowing she left her roommate in there, but shaking her head anyway. "You're gonna be busy tonight. Got a feeling. There's a lot more than pot and liquor."

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For three weeks, Erica sees John a few times a week. Every Sunday for sure once they realized they were both Catholic. They'd gone to mass together three times, then out to brunch afterward, and she was taken a little off guard when she realized she really looked forward to seeing him. A couple of times she 'left something' at his place, just to be able to drop by. She'd even started going to class regularly, and she stopped smoking.

On a Friday night though, she happens to be in her dorm when her roommate cajoles her into going to a party. Erica doesn't want to, but soon the 'you're a shitty roommate' insults start flying and she gives in. They head out, Erica in jeans and a University long sleeved shirt - she's not looking to be sexy or turn heads. Not tonight. Not at this party.

She's there all of an hour when she's had enough of some guy draping himself over her and she goes upstairs, locking herself in a bedroom and finding a phone. She calls John, music thumping in the background.

[yippiekiyaymf]

"Hello." John's studying. Sociology this time. Creedence Clearwater Revival is playing again -- John Fogerty lamenting about being 'Stuck in Lodi Again' -- John turns it down, but not off.

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"Hey, it's me," she says, clearing her throat.

"I know it's your night off, but I was hoping..." She sighs a little, feeling bad for interrupting him. "I'm at this party, I don't want to be here but my roommate is...God knows where. I'm at Sigma Delta. Can you come get me? Please?"

It's one of the only frat houses that's far enough off campus that it's better to drive, and she didn't do the driving.

[yippiekiyaymf]

The music gets switched off.

"Tsk, that roommate of yours..." It's only been three weeks since he even knew she existed, but he already has opinions. There's the sound of the chair sliding back, and books being closed.

"I'll be there in fifteen. Stay safe." He hangs up. No judgment, well, not of her anyway, just the cavalry on the way.

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When John and Erica got married two days before Thanksgiving, she was ready. Ready to be a wife, to have a family better than the one she left behind, to be loved, and to love him. There was never doubt or worry, just a deep feeling of completion once it was official.

So, she was a little disappointed in herself when she needed to ask him for more time on their wedding night before having sex. She was nervous and worried, and wanted to be perfect for him. And at the same time, she was afraid he wouldn't want to wait at all. When he was understand though, when he kissed her and held her and told her it was fine, she felt a little better.

Now, the day of Thanksgiving, she's been up early cooking, making a turkey for them and all the things that go with dinner. She's been excited about this, about their first holiday, and around nine she turns on the parade before going back to the kitchen to work on pie. Every now and then her ring catches her eyes and she grins, rolling out dough.

[yippiekiyaymf]

John worked until after midnight the night before, then couldn't wind down and get to sleep until after two, so the noises in the kitchen don't get through to him right away. When they do, he grumbles and rolls over. A few minutes later it occurs to him what they meant and he smiles. He gets up, pulls on a sweatshirt to counter the chill in the room, slides his feet into his slippers, and goes shuffling out.

He leans against the kitchen door, yawning and blinking sleepily.

"Oh, hey. Parade." Eloquence is beyond him right now.

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Erica stops what she's doing and looks over at him, his hair kind of everywhere and she breathes out in contentment before going to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest.

"Morning. Happy Thanksgiving."

[yippiekiyaymf]

Mmm, armful of Erica is nice. He's still warm from sleep, as she wraps his arms around her, and kisses the top of her head.

"Happy Thanksgiving." Or mumbles to that effect. And another one that might have been 'coffee?'

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The next few days go by fine. Erica aces a test, but now has a project due for another class and is working with her study group in the library. So she has no clue that her parents (more so, her father) are on their way to find her.

When her parents find the apartment, they knock on the door, two very well dressed, well monied people standing in the doorway, her father fuming, already working out what his choice words are going to be.

[yippiekiyaymf]

John has been cleaning the kitchen while she's gone, and answers the door in sweat pants and damp tee. He frowns in puzzlement at the two.

"Can I help you?"

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Erica's mother is quiet, but biding her time. Not because she's intimidated into quiet by her husband.

"You're John?" he asks, jaw clenched.

[yippiekiyaymf]

"That depends who's asking." He's got an suspicion who they are.

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After the meeting with her mother, Erica feels...good. Not like things are suddenly perfect, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. (It could be a train, but still.)

Her mother gives her money, a couple thousand, and Erica puts it in her checking account. They have lunch again a couple of weeks later, and again, her mother gives her money. And again, Erica deposits it. When she gets home, she's rushing, late because she has a class, and when she dumps the trash in her purse, a deposit receipt falls to the ground for two grand that she doesn't notice.

When she comes home from class it's almost five, and all she can think about is what to make for dinner because she's starving.

[yippiekiyaymf]

John has his security uniform on, and is ready to go out the door as she comes in. His face is tight, but not obviously angry. However, he's not smiling, and there's no eye crinkles.

"I'll be home at ten, Erica. There's soup and sandwich waiting for you." And with only that, he starts to walk out the door.

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He almost never calls her Erica like that, and she grabs for his arm gently, stepping close to him.

"Hey. Are you going to work early?" They usually eat together.

[yippiekiyaymf]

There's no welcome in his face.

"Yeah, I had the chance to pick up an extra hour. Goodbye."