Naked

He felt so naked around her. No matter how tough a persona he put on, she could see right through it to the person he was beneath. He hoped that no-one else could see through him because he could only feel so naked around one person.

Heartbeat

The sound of his heartbeat was all he could hear as he aimed down from the window. All other noise had faded away; the screams from the victim, the shouts of his fellow feds. He watched the man waver around, waiting for the perfect shot. He took it and heard the sound rush back into his ears. His heartbeat faded back away and he missed the simplicity of the rhythmic beat.

Fall

He had always known that someday he would fall. Whether it be jump or be pushed, he never thought it would hurt this much. Through half opened eyes, he saw the worried faces of Don's team huddled around him. "Why?" he croaked out. "Why did I have to fall?"

Drift

He was a drifter. He never settled down, never chose one person, never chose one team. Many had tried to make him stop drifting but it simply made him leave faster than before.

Game

To him, his work was a game. A deadly game, sure, but a game none-the-less. When he was younger, he was so sure that he was on the good side and that they would always win. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Breath

He couldn't remember the last time he had to remind himself to take a breath before pulling the trigger. It was different this time though. It was her being held hostage by the gun-toting crazy. So many things could go wrong - one wrong move, one gust of wind, the trigger pulled one second too late, could kill her. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, sighted down the barrel and pulled the trigger.

Sleep

Some people were surprised when they learned that he had no problems falling asleep. They thought that with all the lives he's taken, he would be plagued by nightmares. The funny thing is, he used to be. He would agonize over the life that was gone, because of him. Finally, he learned that the work has to stay in the office. Now, he puts it out of his mind and manages to get a good nights rest.

Adrenaline

Many feds in the FBI joke about never fully getting all the adrenaline out of their system but he knows they do. They go home to their loved ones, drink a couple beers, watch TV and unwind. Not him though. If all the adrenaline left his system, no-one would recognize him. The key to being who he is was adrenaline.

Soft

It was a hard case. They had barely rescued the little girl in time to save her from the murderer. He was the one who had to make the decision of when to pull the trigger and hope that it wasn't too late. When they brought the girl back to the Bureau, he couldn't resist going into the break room to make sure that she was okay. The men passing by outside were shocked to see the softness in him as he gently touched the sleeping child's cheek.

Tears

Being the first one into that house was the hardest thing he had ever done. The images of the fifteen murdered children, all under the age of 8, would stay with him forever. It reminded him of an early memory, the one that made him decide to be a cop; the battered and broken body of his friend lying on the side of the road. Not one of the men who came in after him saw him wipe away a few tears for the children that had died.

Remembrance

That one day, that one minute always affected him. The people around him would keep moving, working but he would stand completely still and remember all those that gave their lives before him. He knows that someday, he could be one of those that someone stops to remember.

Time

Time always seemed to freeze every time he fired his rifle and watched someone fall. Why had time frozen this time? He hadn't shot; he wasn't even holding his gun. He felt warmth seeping down the front of his stomach. Looking down, he saw the blood spreading across his chest. He looked to find the man who had shot him and felt himself fall.

Cold

He was so cold. Judging by the amount of blood that he'd lost, he should be dead. But he held on. He refused to succumb to the cold and die. He would fight his way back to the warmth.

Cook

He always laughed when the woman he brought home offered to cook for him. Maybe it was his manliness that led them to assume that he couldn't cook for himself. In fact, he had been cooking since he was a child. He chuckled to himself as he stirred the pot on the stove, remembering times of kitchen mayhaps and accidents over the years.

AN - Just a series of drabbles that I wrote during school about Ian. His character fascinates me for some reason. These are about his personality or just some moments in his life. All of them are made up by me. I own nothing. Please reveiw!