If only Leonard McCoy had been warned advance that being bodyguard for her royal highness involved dragging said highness out of a party before she got too drunk and started an international incident. He might have chosen another path in life had he had advance warning.
But here he was, sneaking her out the back door to the limo, supporting her stumbling frame with an arm draped around her, keeping her upright by sheer force of will. Her expensive, slinky, red dress was in danger of a wardrobe malfunction and he really hoped she had a stash of pins or tape somewhere in the car, cause he really didn't to deal with stray boobs on top of everything else. He was a bodyguard, not a fashion consultant.
She slurred at him as he helped her inside. "Bonesssy...coming to rescue me again...where's your white horse?" She giggled ridiculously. "Same place as your good sense, your highness," he said rather sharply, moving her hands away from groping him. The last thing he wanted was to lose his job because he caved to a handsy princess. Pike would kill him. So would his mom.
The party-loving Princess had already cost three not so resolute bodyguards their jobs with her sultry antics and Leonard was not going to be the fourth. He needed the money desperately. Princess Jemma was pretty, (okay, gorgeous) but not worth his daughter going hungry. He made sure her seatbelt was fastened and turned away, staring intently out the window.
"C'mon, Bones, why won't you cuddle with me," she whined pathetically, trying to grab at his arm. "Number one, you're drunk," he began, pulling himself away again. "Number two, I'm a bodyguard, not your teddy bear, and number three, I'd rather not end up like the last three idiots who forgot about professionalism and lost their jobs. I'd like to keep a roof over my head, thank you very much."
This seemed to get through to her at last. She sat quietly. "Oh. Yeah. That could be a problem. But I still think you're hot, Bones." She grinned lopsidedly. "Thanks for getting me out of there. It wasn't as fun as I thought it would be."
"What were you celebrating tonight?", he sighed longsufferingly, hazel eyes trying not to notice how good she looked in that dress. "You're more dolled up than usual." Oops, that was a mistake. You never wanted to give her the slightest hint of a compliment or she would swoop in for the kill, even when plastered. She smoothed down her red satin skirt, smiling dangerously.
"My birthday. Mom tries to order me to forget it every year and I decided to rebel this year. It wasn't just the day Dad died, after all." So I got my new red designer number out and found a happening place. They don't care if I'm a princess in there. You can make it extra special, though." She winked suggestively, which in her inebriated state wasn't a great look.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. "You'll really be glad you can't remember this in the morning," was all he said before turning away again. She was persistent, but so was he. "Maybe I don't want to," came a meek and decidedly less drunk voice after minutes of silence. He wondered if the stumbling had been real or if she had a crazy metabolism. "Is that what you said to the last three fools?", Leonard asked pointedly. "Unlike them, if I don't work, I don't eat and neither does my daughter."
"You have a daughter, Bones?", Jemma asked in genuine surprise. "I thought you weren't married." "I'm not anymore," he said bluntly. "Jocelyn died three years ago." "Oh. I'm sorry." She sounded genuine this time. "How old is she?" "Seven. She's getting to the age where it's all princesses and ballerinas and puppies. Jo asks me about you every day. She wants to know what a REAL princess is like."
Jemma suddenly felt a twinge of embarrassment at her disheveled figure: makeup smeared and dress disheveled from her exploits on the dance floor. Nobody would want their seven year old to meet her in the state she was in.
"I trust you let her down gently?" She teased, beginning to pull the pins out of her hair. Her head was beginning to throb now and she leaned it back against the seat with a moan. She was going to have a bit of a hangover, all right, though it was mostly from the strobe lights rather than the alcohol. His only response was to hand her a bottle of water and Tylenol, which she accepted gratefully.
"Yep, " he continued, "I said real-life princesses have a very busy schedule and spend a lot of time doing boring grown up stuff. But I also said you DO kind of look like Cinderella." He gave her a smile.
"And yet you continually turn me down, Bones," she pouted, secretly thrilled he thought she was pretty. She was used to being fawned over, but compliments from Bones were rare and genuine. "What's up with that?" Leonard sighed and looked into her bloodshot blue eyes seriously.
"You know why," he leveled her that stare again. Plus, I think you need someone to tell you no, for once. Remind you you're more than just a pretty face for a good time. I've been working for you for two months now and I've seen the real Jemma Kirk and this isn't her. You don't have to put on this act around me."
"You think this is an act?", Jemma wondered tiredly. "Sure is," he said confidently, "You got sick of that place, pretended to be way more drunk than you really are, and got me to haul you out of there." She yawned. "You see right through me Bones," the Princess admitted ruefully, picking at a sequin on her gown, "maybe that's why I like having you around."
He snorted. "Well, lay off the eyelash batting and seduction efforts and I'll be around as long as you want me watching your back."
She considered this for a minute, biting down the instinct to say he could watch her front as well. Man, her bodyguard was tempting: All that muscle and skill hidden under the suits he wore, the crazy eyebrows that did strange gyrations when he was worked up about something, the green-brown eyes that saw her more clearly than anybody else, and that southern drawl he occasionally let slip. But, if keeping him around meant keeping her desires under wraps, so be it.
Just before they left the limo, she held out her hand in a promise. "Okay, Bones. It's a deal. You're staying. I'll even write a little note for your daughter if you'd like. She sounds sweet." He relaxed noticeably and firmly returned the handshake. "Thank you, your highness. And yes, Joanna is very sweet. Have a good night."
"I'll try," she said half-heartedly. "Pike and Mom are going to read me the riot act."
"Uh-huh," he confirmed. "He's been hollering in my earpiece the last ten minutes." She face palmed. "Okay then, bye," she scurried off to her room as fast as she could. Leonard watched her go, smiling to himself at how the unflappable princess turned into a nervous schoolgirl with the threat of a lecture from her stepdad. "Night, Jemma," he said to thin air.