Guarded: A Roleplay

I poke at the meat with my spatula and try to pry the meat from the bottom of the pan. It's an old one. Or at least that's my excuse for why it's sticking.

"Uh, maybe not so perfect," I admit, grimacing at the meat. "Tell me, are you as bad at this as I am? We should probably order pizza."

Heath looks at her, as he was poking at his potatoes in the water with a fork. He sets it down and looks at her pan, then slightly laughs."It's stuck...you didn't use any oil?" He looks at her face, laughs some more but then his pots water boils over.

She then laughs and he looks back at her, they both somehow end up laughing together. "Okay..." as he calms down the water but the potatoes are so butchered from him peeling them, it's hardly resembling a potato.

"We can do this..let's just, try something less complicated?Must be something you know how to make." As he flips through the book.

I purse my lips, suddenly on a mission. It won't do for any meal, but it's something I can do nonetheless. I smile when I find a jar of cocoa powder in the cabinet. "Chocolate pie," I beam. "It's what every sane person has for dinner."

Heath watches her move around and bake, she seems to be in her element. He takes a beer out of the fridge and continues to watch, goes on his laptop and finally it's done. It smells so good, he goes over to her and smells it even more.

"That smells really good..." He says, eyes glued to the pie in front of him.

I nod. "Because it is. My mother used this recipe. It won awards."

I pull out a knife and two forks, and sensing his job, Heath reaches high up and grabs us two plates. I slide the first slice off on his plate and follow up with mine.

Chocolatey goodness explodes in my mouth when I take a bite. I'll definitely have to run to take off some of the calories, but it's worth it. Grinning, I catch Heath's eye when he takes his first bite. "Am I awesome or am I awesome?"

He looks at her, as he was eating some more. Finally, takes a nod, "Maybe I found a use for you." A smirk then follows and he eats some more.

Why, oh why, do I have so many dirty suggestions for that simple comment? And yet, because it's Heath, I know I can't. He's got a girl, and I'm just a job. And I want him to keep smiling.

If I tell him I can think of a few other uses he could have for me, it'll ruin my progress.

Biting my lip, I swallow the last bite of my slice. "Just maybe."

Heath looks at her and all, "Even though that was great....I think I will take your advice and get that pizza still."

He goes off and calls up for one, it soon comes and they have a feast. Beers all around, wings, pizza and breadsticks.

"Okay...since I am a few beers in, we can play a game of 20 questions. Did you have a douchebag boyfriend you had to give up for this?"

I'm on my third beer. "Douchebag boyfriend?" I grin. "You jelly?"

He wields a bread stick, as if he could whack me with it and cause bodily harm, and I giggle. "Nah. Single. It's a good break from... things."

I sit up straight. "My turn. Your girl. You love her or is it just one of those, hey, let's go out things?"

Heath looks at her and eats the breadstick, "I think I do..., most of the girls before were clingy and didn't seem to get I am a busy guy. She does, she gives me my space and funny, I like funny...not big boobs or a nice ass, even though yes...those are great perks."

I chuckle and open up my fourth beer. "Good to know."

I lean closer. "You forgot to ask your question, so I'll take advantage of that and ask another. How long were you a Marine?"

He looks at her, "Four.....,how long have you wanted to do fashion..which I think is a waste of time, you should bake chocolate pies because I would pay big for one of those." He drinks his beer.

I smile. "Five years, maybe. I've always loved it but then a job opened up and I took it. Didn't realize I'd be interning for three years straight, though."

I place my plate full of pizza crust and bread stick crumbs and put it on the coffee table. "Why stop being a Marine and become a cop?"

Heath looks at her,"I don't think I am drunk enough to answer that but maybe I missed home? You can only live with sand getting in awkward places for so long."

"Okay...so, what about your parents? What happened to them?" He asks, looking at her with sensitivity and curiousity.

"My dad pulled a gun on my mom and shot her. Then he killed himself right in front of me," I answer matter-of-factly. "I was nine."

Before he can go all pity-faced on me, I take another sip of beer and turn back towards him. "I don't remember all that much." I remember everything. "What about yours?"

Heath looks at her and what she just said, explains a lot. Respectful as he is, he answers "My parents are very much alive, my mother is a nurse and my Father is an Electrician or was...,I have to get used to saying that, he recently retired."

He drinks his beer, looking at her "You will get better...eventually, I know it's not the same as seeing what you did but I have seen my fair share of...,anyways, the point...every day gets easier."


He pulled out a bottle of tequilla, "Now...the good stuff, any time you pass on a question. You take a shot..." He looks at her, "Tell me about this ex of yours...what shit did he do to screw it up with you?"

Before I can think to reply, to tell Heath that I am better, or at least I think I am, he asks about my ex. The ex. Trent.

Absently, I run my hand along my throat and shrug. Then I beckon my fingers, and Heath sighs and hands me a shot glass. He pours one, and I drink it down. I'm definitely feeling the liquor this time around if I hadn't before.

"Obviously, that's a pass," I answer, and lean back against the couch. I figure if he's being brave, then so will I.

"You were on the phone earlier," I probe as my fingers trace along the edges of my empty glass. "You seemed sad. Why?"

Heath looks at her, "I will take a shot and still answer" he does so, "The woman I was seeing she's moving to Washington, and with everything going on here..protecting you, it's better to end it."

He takes another shot.

I study Heath's expression, the sadness behind his eyes, and I feel a pang of guilt. I'm speechless. Finally, mustering up the blandest condolence I can, I speak. "I'm sorry."

Though I want to tell him there's hope, that this'll be over sooner rather than later, I don't. I use this as my next question.

"Don't you think you can make it work?"

Heath looks at her,"Name any long distance relationship...that works? Not many. Anyways, it's done and over with. On to the next..."

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"We found a spot...he's supposed to be there." Andrew said, lighting a cigarette and sitting across from Heath. Heath who was reading a book, looks back "What makes this lead so different...?"

Andrew looks at him, "Just trust me..it's a good one. They want us to be ready in a few hours."

Heath looked at him and took a moment, bracing himself for what will be another blood bath. Sure enough, hours later, four dressed men got into their vehicle and drove off into the early hours of the morning and came to an abandoned house. They got out and prepared the house.

Heath went up top the stairs and seated himself, looking across the way to a desert hill. They had exact time for the enemy to be making their way across, thanks to a spy who had been working for them.

Heath set his M-24 in his hand and didn't take his eyes off the very spot, everything went silent. As right on time, the enemy moved it's way up the hill. 6 of them, Heath took a deep breath and opened fire, it was so quick, so quick when the man who the bullet was intended for, grabbed a children right next to him and used it as a shield.

The enemy looked to where the shot came from and more shots occurred, Heath remained where he was, barely remembering at all how they escaped.

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Heath woke up gasping slightly and sweating, the alarm next to him went off and the time said 6am.

I'd been in the process of making chocolate chip pancakes, one breakfast meal I can actually do, when I'd heard slight murmuring coming from Heath's bedroom door. It sounded as if he could only be talking in his sleep. It all jumbled together, nonsensical, pained. I'd had a nightmare, myself, hence why I was up so early making a meal.

Figuring I'd save Heath from whatever was haunting him in his sleep, I trotted down the hallway and wedged open the door. The murmuring grew louder, not that I could make it out anyway. I stopped just beside his bed.

His bare chest was pumping up and down beneath the sheets, covered in sweat. Before I could nudge his shoulder, he awoke with a start, eyes wide, the covers pooling around his waist. I jumped.

"Nightmare?" I asked, watching as he fought to catch his breath. He looked up at me, first, and then down again. His hands were shaking. Every part of me ached to take him into my arms, to let him know I understood, that he was safe now and that all was well, but I couldn't move.

Instead, I fidgeted with the hems of my shorts and gave him an apologetic smile. "It's okay. I get them, too."

The smell of my pancakes wafted into the room, and it was clear he picked up on it. His nostrils flared. I took a step away from the bed to give him his space. "Chocolate chip pancakes," I explained. "When you're ready, we can eat."

Leaving him to his post-nightmare thoughts, I turned and left the room.

It was a week later, Heath didn't bring up his nightmare. He hasn't had one in ages, the mere fact he's comfortable, meaning he does like Paige, even if just a little bit.

As she came downstairs, one Tuesday morning. He greeted her and asked her to follow him to the living room, they walked in and there stood a man. "This is Dean, he's a sketch artist...I kept on at them, to send someone, finally they did."

"I want you to...tell him what you know, he's going to help." He says, looking at her.

I nod and take a seat, immediately trying to conjure up the one thing I've tried to avoid for the past week. "Well, Heath saw most of the same guys that night."

Dean nods. "Of course. He's given me a description. But it's good to have all sides. Maybe it'll improve our pictures a bit." He reaches into his bag and withdraws a folder. "Do these men look fairly close to what you saw?"

I take the folder from his outstretched hand and flip it open. It's scary how similar they are. I nod. "The one on the left, that's the shooter. Except maybe his nose was a bit thinner. Like, the bridge. But it was dark."

Dean nods again. "I'll make adjustments. And the other two?"

I try to refresh my memory. "Yeah," I answer, flipping through the last two sketches. "Yeah, those are pretty dead on."

Dean leans forward and takes back the photos when I offer them. "According to your statements, you saw one or two more that were there on the night of the murder."

"One," I specify, to which Dean nods and pulls out a brand new sketch pad. He looks at me to start.

"Uh, well, he had something on his neck. I remember that, because he was the only one without a hood on."

Dean bobs his head again. I've noticed he does this a lot. "Hair, facial features?"

"Dark hair, I think. It was curly, about to his ears. Kind of frizzy."

I watch as the sketch takes shape, mesmerized. I wonder how these guys can draw up little descriptions so easily. Shaking off the thought, I list off more features. He had a big nose. It looked like it had been broken a time or two. When prompted about the tattoo on his neck, I tell them I only saw the beginnings of it peeking out from his shirt. It was straight, a capped line, something like the tip of a cross. How ironic, come to think of it.

After a moment, I realize that's all I can offer up. I add on stupidly that our suspect seemed tall, but that pretty much everyone seems tall to me because I'm so damn short. If I'm not mistaken, Heath has to stifle his laughter at that. I let him, because his little sounds of delight are so rare that it's a crime to wish them gone.

When Dean starts to pack up his things, I take a deep breath and sit back against the couch, my legs crossed. "So, no matches yet?"

Heath answers for the guy, "It's a long shot...these men, they are involved in pretty dangerous stuff. We are going to find them, or at least..my unit will find them. Till then, we are stuck in Vermont. Thanks for coming Dean."

Heath stands and shakes the guys hand, Dean nods "Not a problem bro, I hope we get these guys...my sister wants it too." He looks at Heath, who just nods back.

Dean leaves.

Heath looks to Paige, who has a questionable look on her face. "His sister was my girlfriend, yes." He walks off to the kitchen.

It's now been exactly a week inside this forsaken mansion, and though the entertainment is plentiful by Heath's standards, where he sits in the main room playing Halo on the Xbox, I'm getting bored.

I plop down on the couch next to him and draw my legs up. He bobs his head in acknowledgment. His cheeks have a light layer of stubble, and damned if I don't want to tease the hard lines of his jaw with my tongue.

It doesn't help me that he's single now.

I let out a loud, heavy sigh and sit back against the cushions. "I'm bored."