WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor.

Chapter 1;

"You didn't list your sexual orientation."

"I'm a Marine."

"So...?"

"Don't ask, don't tell."

Christian rose an eyebrow at the man sat across from him, sitting with his arms crossed over his chest as though he didn't want to be in Christian's office, being interviewed for the role of Close Protection Officer for the rising entrepreneur. Since he moved into Escala, Christian had been receiving more and more threats on his life. Elena explained that that was natural given his zero-to-billionaire status but it didn't make Christian feel any more at ease. It had been his old Dom's suggestion that he seek out a bodyguard; apparently old habits died hard and she still felt the need to look out for him like any good dom should.

Stoic and quiet, the guy before him had barely moved since he'd sat down, only nodding that he wanted a glass of water when offered by that new PA lady at the reception. What was her name again? Janet? Andrea? Angela? Whoever. She was already annoying.

Looking at the paperwork before him, Christian noticed this guy hadn't given much away on his CV, in fact it was the vaguest out of the three potential candidates which Welch had forwarded him on request. As irritating as it was to know nothing about the candidate, Christian found that to be oddly all the more captivating and so far Mr Taylor had been in his office the longest out of the three possibilities.

He was born in Detroit like Christian which immediately sparked his attention. The man was seven years older than Christian and had been in active service since he was eighteen. He'd listed prior employment before the military, too, which interested Christian; they appeared to have a shared interest.

"You like cars?"

"Yes sir," this Taylor guy nodded, a flicker of a smile appearing in the far left side of his thin lips, "I hoped to go into manufacturing like my father but I never got a chance before the city started declining."

"So you washed cars?"

"It paid for food; we lost everything when dad lost his job at the factory." Taylor explained, scratching a nasty looking cut down his face. He'd been through the wars, Welch had warned Christian, and as a potential employee Christian was told not to expect him looking as fresh as the other two candidates, both former FBI.

Apparently Taylor's plane from Somalia had landed about two hours ago in Portland, of all fucking places. It explained the horrid male sweat smell and crinkled suit. He was a handsome man however, rugged looking with a heavy growth of golden stumble on his sunburnt face and an outgrown buzzcut up top. After a shower and a shave, Christian could envision the big man standing by his side protecting him. But his attitude so far had been seriously shit; he looked as though he felt himself above Christian and GEH which was irritating as hell.

"Cars are a hobby of mine too," Christian nodded, "Engines in general actually. I'm looking to purchase a boat just shortly," he said, looking into Taylor's dark blue eyes, "What's your favourite car?"

"DB5 Aston Martin."

"Bond's car," Christian said with another nod, "A classic. I was expecting a mustang or a dodge but no, an Aston. Good choice."

"Bond fan?" Taylor asked next, the first question Christian had received from Taylor. The other two potential security officers had asked about current security protocol, what Christian wanted from a security officer, if live in accommodation was an option or not. Jason Taylor seemed content to shoot the breeze like some regular jo blogs.

Oddly enough, Christian liked this better; Taylor seemed relatively laid back. Arguably that could in fact be due to his jetlag but it certainly made Christian feel at ease before the big man. All these death threats had been playing havoc with his mental health recently; it felt like years since he'd had a good night's sleep. Even when his subs serviced him, he just couldn't run from the nightmares of his past and the potential future.

"Doesn't everyone love bond movies?" Christian countered and saw the left side of Taylor's mouth twitch once more, threatening a smile, "Suits, fast cars and easy women. Isn't that the dream?"

"To some," Taylor agreed, "What other movies do you like?"

"Why the interest in my personal life?" Christian observed, "Can I remind you this is supposed to be a job interview and not a date, Mr Taylor?"

"That's Taylor to you. Or Jason. No one calls me 'Mr Taylor'. Not unless they want their teeth to last them for a few more decades," Taylor said suddenly, his aggressive tone catching Christian off guard. "And I want to be sure I'm not going to be working for a creep with a secret obsession with Animals Do The Funniest Thing. I hate that show. I have a four year old daughter; believe me that watching a hamster sneeze is only funny the first time around," Taylor nodded, sitting forward now with a full blown smug smirk, lopsided to the left side.

Christian rose an eyebrow at the sudden shift from stoic and quiet to arrogant and obnoxious.

"I know what you're thinking; presumptuous of me to assume you'll pick me as your CPO and not Bill Baker and Oliver Costello from the FBI -that's right, I know who you interviewed before me. Let me give you the facts; I've already been in GEH. I walked in here an hour ago wearing a boiler suit, telling your door guy I was coming to check the electrics. I flashed him my organ donor card as 'ID'."

Christian nearly choked on his coffee as Taylor pulled out an organ donor card and flashed it like an ID badge to demonstrate, his large fingers covering the actual details but leaving the photograph in total view.

"Next I flirted with your office ladies while I was signing myself into the building which gave me a chance to skim previous names and decipher who was most likely to be the other candidates-"

"Now you are bullshitting. Welch told you I was meeting Baker and Costello. Fact. I don't believe you."

"Phone reception. Christian White signed into the building less than an hour ago and left twenty minutes after," Taylor challenged, his confidence making Christian uneasy. How the fuck had the doorman let this bastard in?!

"I knew you wouldn't believe me so check your top drawer," Taylor challenged then, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms against his broad chest.

Christian glared and slowly opened the drawer to his left, reminding himself to buy WD40 to lube up the squeak. There was a note folded over which hadn't been in there twenty minutes ago, he was sure, because he'd looked in that very drawer for his hand sanitiser before he'd gone to the bathroom. Slowly, he pulled it out and shook his head, "This was you?"

Taylor winked, looking incredibly pleased with himself suddenly as Christian unfolded the paper and laughed;

'Hi Friend :-).'

Taylor's handwritting was messy and childish but it was as clear as day what he'd written.

"So you broke into my office as well as my building," Christian mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief, "I should have you arrested for this stunt, Mr Taylor."

Taylor glared; he really really really didn't seem to like being Mister-ed. Christian couldn't help but smirk at his irritation.

"I literally told that pretty blonde at reception that you'd requested someone to check your computer wires," Taylor said proudly, "You went to the bathroom and I was in and out before you'd come back. In fact," he slowly pulled out one of the company's pencils with the word 'Grey' written at the bottom, "I borrowed this to do it."

"I can't believe how easily you broke in," Christian mumbled, slumping back and rubbing the migraine which had been burrowing a hole in his mind for what seemed like an endless period of time, "Honestly. I can't believe you were even in my office too. If you'd been one of those crazy freaks threatening my life…"

He watched Taylor twiddling the pencil then chewing the end, still looking incredibly pleased with himself, "So when do I start, Boss?"