(no subject)
Beck looked at his watch. It had been late when they’d left the office; now it was really late. He looked over on the couch. Heather was asleep. Poor thing. She’d had a rough night. He went over to her and gently shook her shoulder.
“Heather. Heather, wake up.”
“Mmmm?”
“Heather, if you’ll get your things I can take you to base camp. It’s safe there.”
“Base camp?” she asked sleepily.
“Yeah. I’ll even put you in the VIP tent.”
“All right…”
Beck was answering a question from a lieutenant Greeves when he heard Heather scream. He raced to the sound, finding Heather in the bathroom frozen in place. He took her in his arms and spun her as he hustled her away from the perceived threat, nearly tripping over her dropped duffel bag as his men pulled their weapons. When there was no more noise, he looked over his shoulder and found what must be Heather’s beloved Tom Cat, his neck bent at an unnatural angle, under the sink. His friendliness had undoubtedly gotten him killed.
“Dios, Heather. I’m so sorry.” Her only response was a moaning sob, muffled slightly by his body armor. His kept her in his arms as he guided her back into the living room to keep her from seeing the broken body again. He gestured at one of his men to take care of the cat, and Capt. Dunne to finish packing the overnight bag. Capt. Dunne was efficient, and Beck steered Heather out the door before anything else could happen.
As they pulled into base camp, Beck woke Heather. She’d cried herself to exhaustion (a process that didn’t take long) on the ride over, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.
“C’mon, we’re here.”
“Mmm? OK.”
He helped her out of the vehicle and steered her towards the right tent. She was practically still asleep, feet moving automatically beneath her.
“Cot’s over - nevermind. You found it.”
Collapsed on it, more like. He went to retrieve her bag. When he returned, she was already out. She hadn’t even taken off her shoes. Well, he could at least do that much. After placing her sneakers under the cot, he pulled the sheet over her shoulders. He found himself watching her sleep. She looked so exhausted. And beautiful, despite the pain. He reached out, fingers brushing her cheek. He surprised himself with a yawn. He’d best get to bed too; it was 2330.