Guarding My Heart
A/N #1: This story is in response to the following dialogue prompt for the Julaugust TFP: "No offense, but I really don't like you. My job isn't to be your friend. My job is to protect you."
Him
At the strident beep of his phone alarm, Wyatt grimaced and without opening his eyes, rolled over to shut off the annoying device before his aching head split in two. He cursed vehemently when his first two attempts to locate the damn thing failed before finally grabbing it to hastily silence the alarm he didn't really remember setting last night. Unless he was on assignment, Wyatt rarely even messed with an alarm. Flopping on his back, he heard a muffled "ow" when his right arm landed heavily on the slender form of last night's sleep over "guest." (Stacy? Tracy? Lacy?) Wyatt absently patted the rounded hip he'd inadvertently smacked in apology, musing that it was entirely possible he might not have even asked her name. Why bother? None of the women he took to his bed ever lasted more than one "date" anyway because no female since his wife had been killed five years earlier had made the slightest impression at all on the still quietly grieving widower.
Dropping his phone on the table beside the bed, Wyatt sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face, wishing he hadn't drunk quite so much before hooking up with Kaci or Macy or whatever her name was. He felt his face warm slightly at the sudden memory of a less than stellar performance between the sheets, not that Wyatt had heard any complaints. Thank God for the blue eyes and dimples his late mother had passed down to him. Combined with the muscular frame Wyatt had acquired after enlisting in the Army and religiously maintained all through his years with Delta Force, amazingly, he'd never once been shot down when in pursuit of female companionship. His (naturally) envious unmarried DF buddies had nicknamed him "Ken" (as in Barbie's boyfriend) a moniker he didn't really care for, but Wyatt took their mostly good-natured teasing in stride. He smiled wistfully. Damn, but he'd really missed the guys since he left the service six months ago to pursue a career in security services.
It wasn't that the former Master Sergeant had been necessarily unhappy serving with Delta Force, but after spending more than ten years as a member of the elite unit, every mission began to feel like the one before. And as anyone in the military could tell you, boredom tinged with a touch of loneliness was a dangerous combination for an active duty soldier. An attitude like that could get someone killed, something Wyatt wouldn't have been able to live with, coming on the heels of his wife's death.
So after careful consideration, not to mention some decidedly less-than-subtle urging from his equally bored best friend, Dave "Bam Bam" Baumgardner, once Wyatt returned from his last deployment, he and Bam had walked away from the military and formed a private security firm they named BL Protection Services. Setting up shop not far from Pendleton, they managed to talk Bam's wife into running the small office for them, a wise decision. Julie Baumgardner turned out to be a whiz at manning the phone, scheduling assignments, and taking care of the books (plus she kept her gregarious husband in line, something Wyatt considered to be a plus).
Right now, a big chunk of their profits was going right back into the business, but Wyatt felt confident that within another six months, he and Bam would be able to start drawing decent paychecks, not just covering expenses while getting by on their military pensions. Best of all, once the assignments started trickling in, Wyatt found he was actually enjoying himself. When word got around that two ex Delta Force guys were running a reliable, discreet security company in the San Diego area, less than two hours from Los Angeles, the phone began ringing so often the partners recently had to hire a couple guys from their former DF unit. This past week alone, Julie had fielded three calls from a couple of big-shot Hollywood agents needing bodyguards for their clients.
Okay, sure, his personal life could be considered by some to be a train wreck-Wyatt had a bad habit of burning through too much booze and too many women–but professionally, things were going really well, and he briefly savored a warm glow of satisfaction at the success of their fledgling business. A soft chime sounded on his phone, and Wyatt picked it up to see a text from Julie reminding him that he was due at LAX in less than four hours to meet his next assignment, some famous female writer who'd been receiving death threats. Clicking on the link in the text from Julie, Wyatt idly scrolled through the new client's file, carefully noting the pertinent details:
Name - Dr. Lucy Preston
Age - 34
Address - San Francisco
Occupation - Author/History Professor on leave from Stanford University
Privately, Wyatt was slightly impressed in spite of himself. At 34, this woman was fairly young to be a college professor, let alone a best-selling author. Personally, he wasn't into history (or reading, for that matter), but he could respect how intelligent and hard working this Dr. Preston clearly must be to achieve such success. The last page of her file contained a photo, and a quick glance revealed a somber young woman with big dark eyes and waves of black hair framing a pretty face. Momentarily taken aback by just how attractive the writer was, Wyatt sternly reminded himself that it was a strict company policy to never mix business with pleasure. Even more importantly, ex-soldiers from Texas like Wyatt Logan usually had a 'type' but it wasn't uptight college professors from snooty San Francisco, that was for damn sure. No, ma'am...wasn't gonna happen. She might be easy on the eyes, but probably a little too high maintenance for a regular guy like him.
Setting the phone back down, Wyatt mentally calculated that even with a two-hour drive to the airport, he still had plenty of time to shower and dress before he needed to head out. Certainly enough to try and make up for his lackluster performance from last night, so rolling over, Wyatt proceeded to leisurely wake up his bed partner (Jacy?) Whatever–he honestly didn't care.
Three hours later, he was sitting in a small bar in the LAX terminal, nursing a beer while patiently waiting for the flight from San Francisco to arrive. Casually dressed in his favorite black leather jacket over a crisp blue button down and dark jeans, Wyatt ignored the admiring looks sent his way from not only several women in the bar, but a couple of men as well, using the down time to catch up on a few emails while texting back and forth with Bam.
Hey, bro, where you at?
LAX–waiting for my new assignment.
Which one did you draw? The crazy soap star with the even crazier stalker fan?
No way, I dumped that one on Zach...poor dumbass, he thinks she's hot.
Listen don't you dare rat me out to my wife, but I have to agree, she IS sorta hot.
I guess, if you like the plastic type. Even worse, she's an actress & after the last one of those I had to deal with... (shudder)
C'mon, Wy, that little head case only tried to have you arrested because you wouldn't fall into bed with her...still shaking my head about that decision, considering how many women fall in and out of your bed on a regular basis...
Jealous much? Hey, not my fault if I'm irresistible to the ladies, lol. Besides, Bam, we have that 'no dating the clients' rule for a reason, don't we, to protect me and Zach and Joey?
Aww, stop, you're gonna make me cry cause you poor single guys have it so rough, boo hoo :p
Shut up–you're damn lucky to be married to someone like Julie and you know it, asshole.
Jesus, Wy, language! Anyway, who ARE you meeting at the airport?
Bam, seriously, do you never talk to your wife? You do remember her, the nice lady who runs our office?
Yeah, but Julie's at the dentist and said I wasn't allowed to bother her...
HA! You are SO whipped ...I'm picking up the lady writer from San Fran, the one getting death threats?
Oh, yeah, I remember, the Stanford U. professor. Hey, I sneaked a peek at her file and she's a looker, all right, but probably too classy for you, cowboy.
Hey, hey, what's the other rule? Don't mess with Texas! No worries on that issue–stuffy college professors are absolutely NOT my type.
Sure, you say that now, but maybe she a real spitfire...my wife says appearances can be deceiving.
Probably cause you're dumber than you look, Bam, lol.
Smirking at his last response to his business partner, Wyatt sensed, rather than saw, a woman standing at his shoulder, and without lifting his eyes from his phone, murmured politely, "No thanks, sweetheart, I'm good."
"That remains to be seen," a definitely feminine voice answered tartly, and Wyatt instantly froze. Shit. Taking a deep breath and summoning his most charming, never-fail smile (the one that displayed his dimples so nicely), Wyatt glanced up to see none other than the woman he was here to meet–a visibly annoyed Dr. Lucy Preston. Shit. He'd been so busy jawing with Bam that the time got away from him, resulting in his failure to meet her plane, and now it was more than likely he was not making a good first impression on their new client.
Apparently unimpressed by the dimples (dammit, they usually worked on most women), her elegant dark brows drew together slightly as she peered at him uncertainly and asked, "Are you Wyatt Logan from BL Protection Services?"
Even while a portion of his brain acknowledged her question, another (decidely masculine) part was busy cataloging the author's appearance. Lucy Preston was a brunette of average height and very slender, but nicely curved in a floral summer dress and little matching sweater, with long, toned legs shown to full advantage by her slim high-heeled sandals. Right now, there was a storm brewing in those whiskey-brown eyes, and both high cheekbones were delicately painted with a rosy spot of temper. Maybe appearances can be deceiving. Because Dr. Preston was much, much better looking than her photo would suggest, and about as far away from a stuffy college professor as a woman could be. Unaccustomed to the effect she was having on him, Wyatt was helpless to control the half smirk that curled one side of his mouth as he replied, "Yes, ma'am."
Evidently not exactly the answer his new client was expecting, judging by her reaction. Pressing her soft pink lips together and shooting him an exasperated glare, Dr. Preston snapped, "You know, we're pretty much the same age–so you can just stop calling me ma'am." Well, hell, the professor was hot when she was pissed off.
Throwing some cash on the high-top table, he quickly stood, unable to stop the words that tumbled instinctively from his lips, "Yes, ma'am."
"Have you been drinking?" She asked incredulously. Shrugging and offering her a faintly guilty smile, Wyatt was amused at her poorly-concealed huff of irritation when she turned without a word and headed in the direction of the baggage claim area. Watching the gentle sway of her hips as the author stomped away from him, Wyatt realized that surprisingly, he was already intrigued by this woman. Yep, Dr. Lucy Preston had certainly made quite an impression on him, and he found he was looking forward to getting to know her better. Hopefully, Wyatt would be able to change her obviously less-than-positive first impression of him...
A/N #2: I thought an AU Lucy and Wyatt might best utilize this particular TFP prompt, and of course, it's always fun to play in a different Timeless universe. Lucy's side of the story is up next. Hope you enjoy this version of our beloved couple. Before I forget, I want to give a quick shout out to faithful guest reviewers like Shelley and also those I'm unable to respond to in a PM like lumirules. Your continuing support for my little stories means so much to me. I know things are a little tough right now, friends, in the Timeless fandom, but that's okay, 'cause we Clockblockers are tough cookies :))
