Whenever she pictured heroes in her mind, they were always billionaires in spandex suits so bright they should come with a UV warning, who fought crime as a hobby between social events. Her own personal hero turned out to be far different. Shoulder length auburn hair that she knew some women would kill for, an old leather duster probably older than she was, and a Cajun accent that would've been cheesy on anyone else. She used to waste time wondering why he did it. Saved her, that is. She knew that she didn't quite fit the 'damsel-in-distress' stereotype. But then, he didn't really resemble the atypical saviour. They were just a pair of mold breakers. Maybe he saw in her what he saw in himself. A loner, an outsider who didn't really belong. If that was the case, then maybe they were destined to be together. She had never asked him why he did it, and she doubted he would even have an answer if she did. He would just smile that smile he did, the one that could make her do just about anything, and shrug. Probably say something, like how he couldn't abandon such a beautiful girl and still honestly call himself a gentleman. He never lost points for cheesiness.
True to form, she met her hero on the worst day of her life. Wandering the streets of Seattle, Washington, with nothing to her name but the clothes on her back. A boarding card stuck out of the front pocket of her ratty corduroys; her last pennies had been spent on the fare from Alaska. Although it seemed like a good idea at the time, her stomach was now thoroughly resenting the decision. She sub-consciously tightened her demin jacket around her thin frame. The weather was not unreasonable for early spring, but she found herself shivering nonetheless. Seattle was certainly bigger than the backwater town she had grown up in; it was almost awe-inspiring in comparison. The sky scrapers that stretched up farther than she could see, combined with the throngs of people bustling this way and that along the street created a sense of lonliness that she hadn't felt before stepping off the plane. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd been subjected to her own company; she'd been travelling alone for the greater part of two weeks. But never before had it been so apparent.
She glanced up at the cloud covered sky, and frowned. In her home town of Yakutat, night fell quickly, with no warning save for the sudden drop of a few degress of warmth. She had never been in a city with a size comparable to Seattle, but she knew that with the abundance of unnatural lighting, it would be difficult to detect the coming of night. Still, she was perceptive enough of climate changes to have felt the temperature drop several degrees in the past hour. A sense of urgency washed over her then; she was not all too eager to spend the night on the streets of a strange new city. So food first, something to placate her rumbling stomach. Then she would be able to concentrate her energies on finding somewhere to stay. Granted, her options in both areas was definitely wanting, but she was confident enough in her adaptibility to figure something out.
She spied a small market type grocery store down the road, and set about to cross the semi-busy street to reach it. Although she was loath to break the law in any case, her survival placed higher on her list of priorities. With no money in her pocket, and nothing on her person suitable to pawn or sell, she would have to rely on her less than ideal shoplifting skills.
A small brass bell hung above the entrance to the market announced her arrival. Grateful for the gust of warm air that blasted down from an overhead vent, she allowed herself to relax slightly; her arms unwound themselves from her body and hung down at her sides. She noticed almost instantly the lack of security features, something that seemed strange given the big city location. The store seemed almost like it had been airlifted from a no-name town in the South. But rather than ask questions about the lack of cameras and floor staff, she thanked whatever powers that be for her luck. The middle-aged man sitting behind the register silently reading a copy of Time Magazine eyed her warily, before her shy smile reassured him, and he continued with his literature.
She wandered down the neatly kept aisles, occasionally pulling something from the shelf as if to compare ingredients and price, before returning it with a slight shake of her head. She knew she wouldn't need much; previous experience had taught her that her body did not require a lot of food, just the right kinds in small amounts. Eventually she arrived at her goal; power bars. A quick glance at the shopkeeper told her he no longer suspected her of anything. She grabbed three in one hand, not bothering to care about flavours, and slipped them into her jacket. She sent another fleeting look at the only other person in the store, and was suddenly confident she had pulled it off. Remembering to smile apologetically on her way out, she managed to keep the keenness out of her stride as she headed to the door.
'Mission accomplished!' she thought to herself, as her stomach sent out an appreciative rumble. She could practically taste those bars already. She reached out to push open the door, when a hand seemed to materialize out of nowhere and clamp down on her shoulder.
"Going somewhere, miss? Not without paying for those bars, I hope," a deep, gravelly voice boomed out. The hand on her shoulder that she was certain would prove to be nothing but bones pulled her back into the store, and turned her sharply. She came face to face with a wrinkle faced security guard she hadn't even seen, who was staring down menacingly at her. He was dressed in what she had come to think of as a standard security guard get-up; dark blue pants paired with a lighter blue button-up shirt, some kind of metal security emblem on the right breast, and a gun belt fitted snugly around his waist. Her blue eyes widened slightly at that last; she recognized the gun as one of lower calibur, certainly not as damaging as some she had seen, but it was still a gun, for crying out loud. His hand remained on her shoulder, but the toe of his left boot started tapping impatiently as if he actually expected her to answer. Her jaw slowly fell open; she had not prepared for this contigency and was therefore at a loss as to how to proceed.
"Jesus, fille, dere you are!"
Both security guard and young girl turned to the sudden voice, as a man rushed forward from another corner of the store. Her face instantly flushed red; it seemed as though she wasn't nearly as perceptive as she originally thought. This man, although she was certain she had never met him before, pulled her into a tight, bone crushing hug. She barely had time to register how good he smelt before he was releasing her, leaving a secure arm around her shoulders. "I turn m'back for deux minutes, and you disappear!"
He spoke with an accent that seemed so corny it almost had to be real. A black wool toque was pulled down low over his head, and despite being indoors, his eyes were hidden behind a pair of mirrored lense sunglasses. She got the impression, mostly from the sunken cheeks and what she fervently hoped was his hip digging into the small of her back, that when he was at an ideal weight, he was really quite handsome. The ankle length light brown duster he wore wasn't revealing anything about the body underneath, however.
Meanwhile, the security guard was favouring the both of them with an appraising look, almost as if he was trying to decide whether or not to proceed with whatever he had had in mind previously. The man with his arm currently rather possessively around her shoulders seemed to sense this.
"Je suis vraiment desole, monsieur. M'niece, she is a sweet girl, but she be a little slow on de uptake, if you take m'meaning." He tapped the side of his head with a long fingered hand, as though to illustrate exactly where his "niece" was lacking. He coaxed a subtle smile out of the security guard, who responded pleasantly, "oh, it's no trouble, I understand. They can be a handful."
He accommodated the older man with a dazzling grin, then reached into some inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Fo' y'troubles, monsiuer. I appreciate your discretion."
The security guard gratefully accepted the twenty in a two handed shake, and deftly shoved it in a side pocket on his gun belt. He smiled knowingly at the younger girl. "You really should be more careful, miss. Next time you get caught, you might not be so lucky."
She smiled tightly at him, and had enough presence of mind to look sheepish. She wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but giving that this man who still had his arm around her had just saved her butt, she decided she would go along with it for the time being.
"C'mon, petite,"he said gently, another nod in the direction of the guard as he herded her out the door. "Let's get you back home, eh?"
He pushed open the glass door with his free hand, and they rejoined the crowd of people on the busy street. He continued holding her tightly to him long enough for her to begin to worry. Surely he was only trying to help her out; she couldn't have possibley found this much trouble on her first night in the city...
They rounded a corner onto a far less busy street, and after a careful glance over his shoulder, he suddenly dropped his arm from around her shoulders. Without the support she had found herself relying on, she stumbled and nearly fell. But with an incredible feat of balance and pin-wheeling of her arms, she managed to keep her footing. The man whose name she didn't even know continued walking without looking back. In fact, she was quite sure he had picked up his pace.
"Hey, wait a sec!" She moved forward to a jog, but he made no acknowledgement as to having heard her. She caught up to him after a few storefronts, and reached out with one hand to snag his wrist. Before her fingers found purchase, he had whirled around and was staring her down almost as threateningly as the security guard originally had. He didn't say anything, but instead inclined his head slightly to the right, as if he was prepared to hear what she had to say.
She cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable with the intensity of the gaze that was not in the least diffused by the dark sunglasses. "Um, I...Well, why did you do that? Help me, I mean."
He smirked then, the corners of his lips turning up into an almost-smile, and shook his head slowly. "Mebbe you look like you can use some help, eh?"
A ghost of a smile passed over her face, before her brow creased in a deep frown. "But why? Where I come from nobody helps anybody else without some kind of ulterior motive."
He shrugged, a lazy lift of the shoulders that was barely noticeable. "Does dere have to be a reason? Why can't I just want to help?"
A cab pulled up to the curb just ahead of them, illuminating the look of anger that suddenly twisted her features. In the shadows cast across her face, she looked older, world weary almost. "Nobody just wants to help."
His expression softened considerabley, and his voice was gentle and soft when he said, "you right about dat, petite. Mebbe I saw a bit o'me in you. So what?"
Her gaze narrowed as she studied his face in the low light. She wished stupidly that he would take those sunglasses off, so she could at least look him in the eye when she said this next bit. "Well, regardless of why, I guess, thank you. For helping me."
That almost-smile graced his features again. "T'ink not'ing of it, petite. In fact, take it as a sign to better yo'skills. You got a lot to learn bout being a t'ief."
He nodded in parting, then turned away slowly and continued on his way. Looking back, she can never quite be certain why she said what she did next. He had given her no reason to believe he might be able to help her in the way she needed it, but regardless she was convinced in a way she had never felt before that he was the right man to ask.
"So teach me!"she shouted to his rapidly retreating back. His pace slowed, eventually to a stop, and he turned back around on his heel. For a long moment he studied her, and she could almost see his lips forming the affirmative. But then his eyebrows nearly disappeared beneath his hat, and his shoulders were suddenly shaking with silent mirth. Dry barks of laughter were spat out his lips; he seemed either disinclined or unable to hold them in. He bent forward at the waist, resting his hands on his knees, and continued to tremble with apparent hilarity.
"Is it really that funny?"she asked drily, hands on her hips. He appeared not to have heard. It occurred to her then without probable cause that something wasn't right. She took a hesitant step forward as he started to wobble, then with very little warning he crashed to the pavement like a ton of bricks.