The Bird in a Cage

Summary: Howl, a wealthy CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, is threatened by anonymous letters. Bodyguards are all the rage and Howl hires only the best… ending up saddled with the infamous Mad Hatter. Sophie and Howl, AU.

WARNING: Angry Howl and Welsh curses.

Chapter Ten
Well in

The ambulance had arrived along with the police, but they were fiddling their thumbs until Howl saw the cut across Sophie's cheek. Then, all hell broke loose.

Practically dragging his bodyguard away from her chat with the police explaining the events, he shoved her into the medics on-scene and snarled in their face like some daunting Cerberus. "She's hurt. Fix it." Sophie doth protest too much, methinks, but she was promptly shoved into the ambulance, the medics dressing her scratches and pulling up her skirts to see the damage to her leg. When a large bruise bloomed against peach colored skin, Howl almost went ballistic.

"You see? That's what you get for kicking a man on a moving vehicle! What would have happened if he'd been going faster? You could have been seriously hurt! Are you insane?" It was Sophie's first time seeing him so flustered, but his accusations awakened and fanned the fire in her. This, of course, led to a shouting match that had the paramedics clamping hands over their ears to try and ignore the squabble.

"I'm a bodyguard! You pay me to protect you, you moron! It's my job! He was going to kill you!" She snapped right back, a grumpy down turn of her lips. Then, the medic moved her leg just so and she winced visibly, adrenaline no longer able to block out the pain of having smashed a helmet in two with the force of 180 km/hr coming at her. The paramedic informed her she might have fractured it, though he could detect no serious damage.

Howl lit up like a bonfire fed gasoline, despite the presence of media filming the scene. "Arglwydd mawr!"

As he berated her in lapses of English and Welsh, she remained silent, looking down at her knees. When the first teardrop fell, Howl paused in his tirade. When more followed, he faltered with a slightly panicked look in his eyes. Floundering, he tried to get her to look up, completely at a loss of what to do. When she finally did, he was both surprised and having a conniption at the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks like precious jewels.

"The dress..!" she breathed between shaky exhalations, looking so tragic his heart broke. "And… the fight tomorrow..!" She took a deep breath, the beginnings of a true fit Howl recognized from many years with his sister.

Something inside of his told him there was no going back as he took up her hands, looking into her eyes and begging her to focus on him. "The dress will be fine, we can get it cleaned and perfect in no time. As for the fight, as long as you don't use that leg for a while, you should be able to avoid further damage. And they don't have you go through a full physical, do they?" She shook her head, thankfully maintaining eye contact. It was the first time Howl had managed to convince her to stare straight into his eyes and it pleased him greatly.

"As long as you take care of yourself, it should not be a problem." The paramedic looked ready to protest, but Howl stopped him with a sharp look. "We'll need some cream for that bruise and a thin, plastic cast to help the bones heal. That should be more than enough, yes?" Grudgingly, the paramedics acknowledged this to be the truth and Howl nodded, taking charge of the situation. He turned to snap at the police, ordering them to get tapes from the restaurant and the street cameras, to take the knife to evidence and to stop dawdling and take the man downtown! This appeared to offend the officers, but the tone of Howl's voice brooked no argument and they scattered like ants to do his bidding. He then turned to the media and gave a quick, snippy statement about what had happened, turning away and asking the police to block them from the scene.

Once the medic had put her leg in a small, maneuverable cast, Howl was stomping back. His expression was thunderous and Sophie could almost smell the electricity crackling in the air, potent and angry. He took the prescription for the cream from the paramedic then her arm, pulling her up to standing position and leading her to his car. She'd limped a little, but the medic had fed her a good dose of morphine to keep the pain away. He shushed her complaints as he opened the passenger's door and helped her inside, closing the door and heading towards the driver's side.

The ride home was quiet, and once they climbed out of the car, Sophie nodded and stepped away to leave and take the bus home. A hand on her arm stopped her.

"Stay."

So she did.

To be Continued…

Arglwydd mawr! — Props to Caudex and Iolanthe 8 for introducing this incredible Welsh Oath, check out their stories "Embarazada" and "Rags of Time", they are AMAZING.

Sophie (the lady) doth protest too much, methinks. – From Shakespeare's Hamlet, Act III, scene II, spoken by Queen Gertrude.

Words: 800