Glee is not mine. Tell me what you think please?
He slammed his hands flat on the desk.
"You've got to be kidding!"
Sam Evans stared at the man behind the desk, wearing a black suit and sunglasses that made him look ridiculous. The man shuffled some papers on his desk. "'Fraid not, Evans. It's a special mission, you should be proud." Two other suited men snickered behind him, and Sam could feel his face burn. "I wasn't brought here to baby-sit." The man's lips twitched into a frown, and Sam clenched his teeth. "With all due respect." He growled.
"Sorry kid, nothing I can do." Sam straightened out. "Of course not. You're only the head of the Secret Service. What the hell could you expect to do right?" "Evans." The man warned and Sam groaned internally. "Come on, I expected more from you. It's not that bad of a job. Pays better than what you're getting now, more health insurance options, hell the perks of the job should be enough for you."
Sam folded his arms. "….what perks?" He asked cautiously, causing the man to smile. "Free room and board for one thing, the ability to shoot and ask questions later, and…" He grinned. "You get to drive a limo."
…
"Parking wherever I want?" "Kid, you could park inside a hotel lobby and no one can ask you to move."
Sam sighed. He had to admit, it was cool. Riding in a limo and driving it were two completely different things. Famous people didn't get anywhere if it wasn't for the driver. Crowds parted for a limo. Limo drivers were on the sidelines of red carpet premieres, concerts, sporting events without all that hassle of actually being the famous person.
Say what you want. Sam wanted to drive that damn limo.
"Fine. When do I start?" "Right now." The man handed Sam a paper, and he groaned out loud this time. "Are you ser-" "Evans, get out of here. If I hear you whine one more time I'm going to revoke your hair dying privileges." He scowled, taking the paper and stomping out of the room.
"It's not dye." He mumbled, looking at the paper. He couldn't believe he had accepted this. Standing around looking important and tough was an awesome job. Now he was stuck with this…ugh. He walked down the halls full of portraits scattered sparingly along the walls and flags standing at every doorway. There was the occasional houseplant or armchair, but they wanted to keep it professional. This was the damn white house after all.
He walked further into the maze, finding the door he needed. He paused a moment, taking a second to roll his eyes and sigh before tapping his knuckles gently against the door. When there was no answer, he knocked again. "Sir?"
The door opened abruptly and Sam found himself staring into baby blue eyes as deep as the ocean. Brown bangs gently swept over a pale face, a rounded nose, slightly chubby cheeks and pouty pink lips. "Yes?"
Sam blinked, temporarily forgetting where he was and what he was doing.
"Uh…"
The boy in front of him stroked his bangs to the side a bit, his blue eyes looking up as he did before refocusing on the blonde man. Sam cleared his throat a bit.
"My name is Samuel Evans, I'll be your bodyguard from now on."