Chapter 10: Stranger Danger

Author's note: I just want to remind everyone to vote for the gender of Booker and Elizabeth's baby. I'm not too sure when the poll will close; it might be closed by the next chapter. Who knows? If you're a guest, just let me know in the review section and I'll add your vote to the poll. And please, keep giving me suggestions for names! I like Adelaide or Delilah for a girl and Oliver for a boy, but I want to know what you guys come up with. :)

bren97122: Those Germans are such pranksters. :P I would've preferred him to go off to war, but oh well. Why men went to war in those days I think are really different from now, but I don't know exactly. I wasn't born until much later… :P Oh my, it felt like every five minutes in the game, Elizabeth shouted how she found money and I'm like, "Where?!"
TheSilencedVigor: I'll definitely apply the idea of war and what comes with it to other ideas. I'll do it different next time so I can get facts straight and whatnot. Indeed, whoever thought that name up is über ghetto. ;D What kind of problems are you thinking of? Fear the White Walkers! :D
Guest: Thanks for the suggestion of the name! :)
Guest2: Gotcha, your vote has been taken. :)
PurpleNinjaCat278: I'm glad you like it! Hope you enjoy :)
Ze fwench dwarf: I just can't control myself, I must write! Robert and Rosalind have been added mainly because of you and your suggestion. :D I feel that Elizabeth could take down the whole freakin' German army with a pair of scissors and her stocked up skirt… You're vote has been added, dear sir. I hope you had ze most vonderful vacacion!
Twisted Cinderella: Hi, I'm Sarai and I'm a pervert for Booker Dewitt. Haha. XD Yes, it is Booker's fault! His voice is my favorite—mainly because that's all you can really get from him out of the entire game, besides his hands. :D Hmm, I don't know about one-shots. I don't really know what I could write about them to serve as a one-shot. But I'm with you, in my mind these two are just lovers, no blood relation what so ever! Thank you :) Oooh, twins. Elizabeth would be a balloon… I like it! :D :P
Lone Reaper-068: Haha, Booker can totally handle himself! :)

-Sarai

For the past week gunfire could be heard and smoke could be seen south of Paris. The people hid in their homes, some were crowded into bars, and others were at the churches and synagogues, praying for safety upon their families and city.

Elizabeth could be found outside sweet shops, schools, and some churches, calming the people and assisting anyone that needed help. But most often she would be with the children and she would tell them fantastical stories that they believed to be made up, but really she elaborated some of her real-life experiences.

Booker was next to her the entire time, whether he was playing the guitar while she sung to the children or discussing with other men what was happening on the Marne. It was hard for some men; they wanted to go see for themselves what was happening and join the fight and push away the Germans.

During the time that Booker and Elizabeth had spent in Paris, Elizabeth had gone to visit Gabrielle and was quite surprised to see her in such a disgruntled state. She cried in Elizabeth's shoulder, weeping for her husband who was a part of the fight happening on the Marne. He had enlisted one week before the battle on the river had started and now he was there in the fight. Gabrielle cried for the husband she had grown apart with and she promised herself while she clutched onto Elizabeth, that if the Lord would bring her husband home, she would do everything in her power to repair her marriage.

That night, Elizabeth drug Booker back to their hotel room and made love to him the entire night. She realized how lucky she was to have her husband with her and be in such a good and committed marriage. She knew she could never be without him ever again. She was afraid if he left her in some way or another, she'd die. Her heart would fail from loneliness and crumble from the sorrow. She did everything she could to pleasure him—even though that wasn't the most difficult thing in the world. Booker would be in heaven if she simply kissed him. But that night, she went out of her way to make sure he felt pleasure and the love she had for him. And he was with her the entirety of the night, not once growing tired until the sun rose and they slept for nearly the whole day, wrapped in one another's arms.

Now as they finally gained strength to rise out of bed, they woke up to people cheering on the streets outside the hotel room, shouting that they had beaten the Germans and Paris was safe. Rosalind and Robert whined at the door, begging to go out with the excited people. The poor dogs hid in the washroom when Booker and Elizabeth had come home that night, sparing their brains the trauma to see their owners do such wild things in bed. Now they were out and excited.

"I think it's time we go home," Booker enlightened as he tied his breeches securely.

"Do you think it's safe?" Elizabeth inquired as she pulled her dress up, gesturing for his assistance with the buttons on the back.

"I think so. And if anything happens," he started, leaning over her shoulder and kissing her neck, "I'll keep you safe."

She turned quickly, cupping her hands to her cheeks and smiling widely, "Oh, my hero!"

"Ouch, the sarcasm," he mumbled as he put a hand on his heart as if he was actually hurt.

She giggled and hugged him tightly, "No really, you are my hero. I love you so much."

Booker could feel his neck heat up with modesty, but he pulled her to look at him and laid a soft kiss on her forehead, "I love you too."

After dressing properly, they left their room and gathered their things into their automobile. Booker went to the lobby of the hotel and paid the bill, while Elizabeth made sure the dogs were secure in the back of the cab. People that passed her had bright smiles on their faces and spoke gratification in French.

Booker was back and now starting the vehicle, making way back to their small home in the outskirts of Paris. A day before the Battle of Marne had started, Elizabeth had finally encouraged Booker to go to Paris and wait out until the battle was over. And to her happiness, he agreed and they stayed there for a little over a week. Even though she was grateful that Booker had finally given in and gone to Paris with her and the dogs, Elizabeth missed their cottage greatly and the privacy and quietness the place offered. She could now see their home coming into view as the dirt flew behind them in a small cloud. The smile on her face began to fade as they got closer, noticing something wrong about the place. Everything looked fine except that the front door was open and Elizabeth knew she had locked it when they left for Paris. Apparently Booker had noticed this too, because he stopped the car farther than he usually would have.

He turned the vehicle off and stepped out, holding up a hand to signal for Elizabeth to stop from getting out. "Stay here," he ordered and started walking to the home. Rosalind had jumped out and followed Booker, staying right behind him as they made way up the porch.

He followed the mud tracks and drips of blood to the front door and right before he stepped inside, he turned and gestured with a hand for Rosalind to stay there. He grabbed a hammer that was resting in the toolbox outside on the porch that he left there sometime before they left for Paris. He took a deep breath and stepped inside silently, his footsteps light and slow.

The mud tracks and blood were all over the floor boards; some leading to the bedrooms, the kitchen and all over the lounge area. Very carefully, he checked the bedrooms and found them empty. The sunroom and washrooms were empty as well. He stepped out into the open area of the kitchen and lounging area, eyes checking every corner of the room.

His heart nearly came up his throat when an arm suddenly wrapped around his shoulder and a knife was held to his throat. Booker went stiff in the hostile lock and his mind quickly went to Elizabeth outside in the car. The man that held him tightly and held the knife close to his neck breathed in his ear with his hot breath and his beard scratching at Booker's neck.

"The hammer," the mysterious intruder said with a thick German accent, "Drop."

Booker thought for a moment if he should drop the weapon or not, but when the man behind him pressed the knife harder into his skin, he dropped the hammer. From what he could feel, the intruder was about his height, had a beer belly, and from his ragged breathes and quavering voice, he was wounded in some way.

From a mirror on the wall, Booker could see from the window in the kitchen Rosalind was climbing through very sneakily. As the dog crawled to the two men, Booker readied himself. He had to be careful, because if something went wrong, he might have throat slit and the man might go for Elizabeth. Timing had to be perfect.

Booker pulled his elbow forward as Rosalind leapt for the man's legs. The German cried when the dog's teeth sunk into his ankle and Booker brought his arm back, elbowing him in the gut and apparently in the man's wound.

He cried loudly and released Booker. He kicked Rosalind hard and she fell back, whimpering. Booker threw his fist and made contact with the Germans jaw, causing him to whelp and swing his knife. The knife came in contact with Booker's collarbone and cut into skin, making a good gash but nothing too serious. Rosalind coward away and hid in the kitchen, leaving Booker to defend for himself. The German stood in a stance ready to fight with his knife held in his hand, ready to swing again.

Booker held up his fists. The man had a knife, but it was petty weapon. If he has fast enough, Booker could knock the knife out of his hand and gain the upper hand. He was about to lunge when both men looked to the doorway of the front of the home.

"Booker, catch!" Elizabeth shouted at him, throwing him a wrench.

It took a moment to register, but when the wrench was in midair, he snapped back to realization and caught the heavy tool. Once gripped in his hand securely, he swung the wrench at the German and hit his arm that was holding the knife. He could feel through the wrench that he had cracked a bone and the German released the knife. Booker quickly kicked the knife to Elizabeth and she picked it up, holding it tight in her grip.

As Booker was about to bring the wrench back up to hit him again, the intruder lunged for him. But his leap was stopped suddenly when Robert, who had followed Elizabeth, ran for the man. He jumped and knocked over the German, causing him to tumble to the floor. As Robert gained his footing, he tripped a bit on his paws, but in the end, it was lucky. The trip caused the dog to clumsily dodge the kick that the German tried to deliver to the dog. Robert bit down on his leg were Rosalind had bit just moments before. The man cried out in pain and as he was about to tug at his leg, he gasped wide eyed as Booker stood over him, wrench rising to make a great and strong hit. And instantly, the world went black for the fallen German soldier.

Robert immediately let go of the dead man's leg and went to nurse Rosalind. Booker dropped the bloody wrench and stammered back, staring at the dead and bloody man on his floor. He jumped when Elizabeth placed her hands on his back.

"Booker, it's okay," she said softly. Very carefully, she took the wrench from his hand and tossed it across the room. She pulled for Booker to look at her, but he kept staring at the dead body. "Booker, honey, look at me." After a small moment of tugging and pleading, he finally looked at her. His eyes were wide with shock and from what she could see, trauma. "Booker, what's wrong?"

"I-I…that happened so fast," he muttered out.

Elizabeth stroked his cheek and then caught sight of the blood on his collarbone. "Booker, you're hurt!"

He looked down and sighed, "I'm alright. It's a clean cut, it'll heal quickly."

"But you're bleeding. Come on," she gestured to the kitchen table for him to sit down. She pulled out a rag and wet it under the faucet. She grabbed a clean wrap as she walked over to him, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of him. She unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off him carefully, making sure not to put pressure on his wound. She brought the wet rag to the gash and cleaned up the injury. He hissed with his teeth tightly clenched at the initial contact of the rag and his wound. "Sorry," she murmured, dabbing and cleaning up the blood.

She wrapped a clean wrap on his shoulder and neck, making a good bandage on his collarbone. He patted her hand as she finished tying the ends, "Thank you."

She nodded and stood to tend to Rosalind would was now standing. The dog walked slowly to Elizabeth and had a slight limp to her front left leg. Elizabeth bent down and brought the two dogs into a big hug, scratching behind their ears. "You guys did very good," she praised them in a soft voice.

They wagged their tails as she dug her hand into one of the cabinets and pulled out an abundance of dog biscuits, feeding it to them. She stood and cringed at the sight of the dead man on the floor. Booker stood and walked to the dead German, grabbing his legs and dragging him out of the house. After a small moment, he came back in as his ran a hand through his hair.

He grabbed onto Elizabeth's shoulders and brought her to look at him, "I'm going to go to Jean's. I need him to go the police and tell them to come here. I'll be back very soon, but until I get back, I want you to keep that door locked and keep a weapon nearby incase, alright?"

She nodded, taking all his words in, "Alright."

He kissed her forehead and headed out the door, leaving Elizabeth alone with the dogs, a dirty floor, and a dead man outside her front door. She listened as the automobile started up and heard the dirt kick around under the tires of the vehicle. She took a good deep breath and retrieved a bucket and brush from under the sink. Robert and Rosalind stayed by the front door, guarding the entrance. Elizabeth filled the bucket with water and soap, and went to clean her floor boards, silently thanking everyone she could for her life, Booker's, the dogs, and her baby's.

She also prayed for the German outside her home. He may have tried to kill her husband and dogs, but no doubt he was a scared man and just trying to live. He must have run from the fight on the Marne when the French had gained the upper hand. Elizabeth prayed that he was in peace and whoever his family was, they were safe as well.

She had finished cleaning the kitchen when the dogs began to growl at the front door. Elizabeth grabbed for a pair of scissors that lay in a drawer, preparing for the worst. She sighed in relief when Booker came through the door. The dogs stopped growling and rubbed up against Booker's legs in affection, welcoming their owner home. He leaned down and praised the dogs himself and thanked them for 'saving his ass'. Once the dogs were thanked enough, they stayed by the front door incase another enemy was nearby. Booker sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with exhaustion.

Elizabeth stood and walked over to him, "Are you alright?"

After rolling his shoulders, he nodded, "Yeah, I'm good. How about you? How do you feel?"

She tucked hair behind her ear and looked around her home, "I'm alright. Just a little shaken. Are you sure you alright? You looked really aloof."

"I'm alright, Elizabeth," he assured her as he stroked her cheek, "I just didn't think I'd be killing any more men."

She nodded softly in understanding, "I'm sorry you had to."

"Don't be," he said with a firm voice, "I don't like having to do that, but if I didn't, he would have gotten to you and the baby. I prefer not killing, but I don't regret protecting you."

She stood on her tiptoes and brought him down to kiss her. Sirens could be heard, so after a tight hug, Booker released her to go speak with the police. Elizabeth went back to cleaning up the floor, thinking about what he had said.

She knew that he didn't like killing, but for an odd reason, she felt it was her fault that he had to kill. He killed all those men in Columbia, protecting her from men taking her, and now he killed this German soldier to protect her again. She was grateful to and for him and always would be, but she felt guilty that that's what he would always do. She was afraid he would grow to loathe her and leave her.

This feeling was growing to be overwhelming as her hand held the brush firmly, scrubbing away mud and blood. Her eyes watered and her vision became blurry, obscuring the sight of her hand. A sob escaped her when she felt a dog's nose brush against her cheek. She looked up and wrapped her arms around Robert, weeping into the poor dog's fur. She sobbed harder when the dog left her embrace, running off. Not even the dog could be with her any longer and ran off.

After a small moment of crying, she jumped when she felt a pair of hands pulling her. She looked to whoever had their hands on her and whipped away her tears. When her vision was coming back to her, she felt slightly embarrassed when she realized it was Booker was holding her.

Without saying a word, he pulled her into a hug and held her tightly. He rocked her in his arms as she wept, "It's alright." He continued to coo in her ear caring and soft words of encouragement and comfort. Her tears slowed and she was able to say a cohesive sentence.

"I'm sorry, the tears just came and I couldn't stop them."

He brushed her hair out of her eyes and brought her to look at him, "What's wrong?"

"Booker," she said his name through sniffles, "If you hated me or you wanted me to go away, you'd tell me, right?"

A look of complete confusion played across Booker's handsome features. He studied her closely, trying to detect if she was serious. Her eyes were steady on him, but a sad expression accented them. "I wouldn't tell you because I could never hate you and I never want you to go away. Where did you get this idea, Elizabeth?"

She sniffled a bit and spoke in a shaky voice, "I'm afraid you'll get sick of constantly protecting me. Violence and bad luck seem to follow me no matter where I go. And Robert left me, trying to get away from me." She sobbed again, thinking about the dog.

She looked up to him with furrowed brows when Booker laughed. He cupped her cheeks and looked into her eyes with a chuckle escaping his lips every once in a while, "Robert left because he came to find me. He doesn't hate you, Elizabeth. Neither do I. Not only is it my duty, but I want to protect you and watch over you. Violence and bad luck follows everyone; it just seems it likes you more. But don't think about it, alright?" Tears fell down her cheeks and Booker was quick to wipe them away, "Why would you worry so much about this?"

She shrugged, hugging him, "I don't know. I just have all these emotions and I don't know what to do with them."

Booker made an 'aha' sound and stroked small circles on her back, calming her down, "Pregnancy. This is just the beginning."

"You mean I have more of this to look forward to?" she asked, pulling away slightly to get a look at his face.

He chuckled, combing her hair with his fingers, "And sometime after the birth, I believe. It's just the way it is."

Elizabeth sighed and scoffed at the same time, resting her forehead on the good side of his collarbone. "This baby better come out quick, because I don't know if I can handle all this."

"You can do it, Elizabeth. It'll all be worth it."

She nodded and finally the tears came to a stop, but she knew they'd be back sooner or later. A knock came from the door causing Elizabeth to jump a little. Booker stood and brought her to stand as well. He pointed her to the bedroom, "Rest for now. I'll get to the floor later, but I have to deal with the police right now."

She straightened out her dress and walked to the bedroom. But as she was a few steps away, Booker grabbed her wrist and pulled her back quickly. He wrapped his arms around waist, locking her against his body. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, bringing a hand to the back of her head and deepening the kiss. He pulled away after a minute. Elizabeth looked like someone had just sucked out all the air of her and smacked her. Her eyes were wide and glazed and her lips were parted slightly.

Booker laughed at her expression and placed a soft kiss on her temple, "I want to spend my life with you, Elizabeth. And we're going to raise this baby together. Everything will be great."

A warm smile grew on her lips and she brought a hand to his face and caressed his check, "It'll be perfect."

Author's note: Sorry if that ended at an odd moment. I'm just so tired that I ended it there. I'm thinking this story has a good two chapters left in it. I apologize if I seem to lack motivations and commitment with this story, but I'm just a busy girl who is working on other stuff as well. Please don't forget to vote and suggest some baby names.

Also, because he was so nice to send a shout out in his story for me, I want to tell you guys to go check out a wonderful fellow writer on here who has written a few Bioshock stories. His penname is bren97122, and even though he says she's not good at romance, he's very good and you should all go tell him so.

That is all, best wishes, talk to you all soon. -Sarai