"I have to go out," Abby exclaimed as, dressed in jeans and a light coat, Abby made her way to the front door to leave. Shelley looked almost stunned and definitely confused. His manner had changed almost instantaneously having switched from being relatively relaxed (as relaxed as any hitter can be when they're on guard duty) to completely serious and solemn; too solemn, Abby thought, for someone as young as he was.

"Where?"

"I need to give my friend our assignment," she held up a rolled up power in her hand, directing Shelley's attention towards it. Eliot had checked in last night and informed them that he was going 'away' to pick up more back up and she had kept herself 'entertained' with completing the group assignment from a few days before.

"I'm sorry, no," he apologised but there was a lack of regret in his voice. Instead it was stern and determined. "You don't know how to protect yourself properly and you don't know how to stay clear of danger," he explained further, prompted by her unimpressed look.

"Then teach me," she appealed, placing her hands on her hips defiantly.

"N-"

"No, Shelley, teach me," she pleaded, with more emotion in her voice this time. "I want to know how to stay safe."

Shelley sighed and rubbed his face; it was not the first time he'd made this gesture and, by know, Abby had figured out he made it when he was about to do something which made him uncomfortable. He knew what she was trying to do, trying to figure out a way to gain some control out of her more than peculiar life. She was trying to make sure that what happened the other day didn't happen again; to make sure she could rely on herself. Shelley, in his opinion, believed this to be a good idea, both for her own safety and morale.

"You want to learn, okay that's fine," he agreed softly, "but you stick close to me and do what I say, agreed?"

"As you wish," she smiled and waited patiently as the soldier pulled on a sweater. Finally he pulled on a scarf and opened the door for the teen to exit.

"Just for the record, I'm against this," he declared, yelling over his shoulder as she set the immensely complicated alarm.

"What? Don't think you're good enough to protect me?" she toyed waiting in the hall with her arms crossed and foot up against the wall.

"Damn straight I'm good enough to protect you, but the best way for me to do that, is to prevent anything from happening," he locked the door behind them and Abby turned to walk towards the elevator.

"What are you doing?" Shelley asked in disbelief.

"Taking the elevator?" Abby replied, marginally confused.

"Has Eliot taught you nothing?"

"Self-defence," she stated proudly. "How to make a really good Osso Bucco, Spanish," she continued, smiling. "Taught me what to do in that warehouse." She added that last one with a timid sense of pride.

"He does make a damn good Osso Bucco," he agreed on the side, "and yes, you did do good in that warehouse, but that's not the point." He sighed and rubbed his face. "It's better if you can prevent it all together, trust me. We take the stairs," he grabbed her shoulders and lightly turned her towards the stairs.

"Okay, but why?" she questioned curiously.

"Elevators are enclosed spaces, perfect for ambushes. They can be stopped from the outside and then you're trapped. Stairs, on the other hand, have less of that.. You have more control and," he paused and smiled as he opened the door to the flight of stairs, "you get way better exercise this way."

She rolled her eyes but obliged him and followed down the stairs, letting him walk in front of her.

"Seriously? Eliot hasn't taught you this stuff?" he questioned, jogging down the stairs at a brisk pace, his arms bent and swinging at his chest.

"Some of it," she shrugged, meeting his gait and running her hand along the banister.

"It's sloppy," he replied without turning back and without apology.

The teenager shrugged again. "I think he's just trying to keep me out of his world," her response was quiet, meek and almost to herself.

"How's that working out?" he asked again.

"They really drilled it into you at the academy didn't they?" she joked.

"That's why I'm still alive," he said, completely serious.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As they made their way to Abby's friend's house, Shelley, straight faced, lectured at her how to stay alive.

As they entered the car he told her how to check if it had been tampered with. As they drove, he told her how to pick up, and lose, rotating tails. As they walked from the car to the apartment he told her how to avoid sniper fire by walking as close as possible, and by putting as much noise as possible, between her and any sniper nests. He told her how to spot the danger in a crowd and, all in all, delivered more safety information than was necessary for anyone outside of the CIA or KGB. And she was given no choice in the matter.

They finally made it back to the condo without incidence. "See?" Abby exclaimed, carelessly tossing her jacket onto a chair. "We're still alive!" There was playfulness in voice but it was not reciprocated by Shelley. Instead he was solemn and serious.

"You want to know why I'm so OCD about this?" he asked rhetorically. "Because, before I knew your uncle, I lost my whole regiment because I was naive. And now, I'll be damned if I let that happen to someone else."

Any playfulness had disappeared from Abby's face as she recognised the pain and emotion he was trying to hide. "I'm sorry," she replied as she nodded solemnly. Her apology was sincere, she felt sorry for the man; he seemed lonely. "What was Eliot like as a commander?" she asked, trying to break the ice in any way that she could.

"He was as tough as hell," Shelley replied. "But he was the best damn mentor I ever had and one of the only people I'd ever trust to have my back. You're lucky to have him.

"I know," she smiled and, suddenly, the sombre mood was interrupted by Shelley's phone ringing.

"What's the go?" he asked, swiftly pulling the phone to his ear.

"How's everything going?" Eliot asked. The bustling of an airport rung out in the background.

"Good. Everything's looking clean so far. Just got back from dropping an, uh, project off at a friend's, I dunno?" he explained but then began to edge away out of earshot of the teen. "But look Eliot, I know it's not really my place and you're trying to keep her out of everything," he heard Eliot growl over the phone, "but I really think you should invest more in her knowing what to do." Eliot growled again.

"Drop it Shelley-"

"Look, Commander, she did good with that whole getting out of there thing, but you can't hide her from this. You and I both know that's not how it works."

"Yo Eliot, let's go" Shelley heard a second voice yell in the background. Shelley was sure that Eliot was swatting the man off with his arm.

"I'll take it… under advisement," he uttered begrudgingly, then proceeded to instruct Shelley and what to do next. "And thanks for this Shelley."

He slid the phone back into his pocket and walked into the other room. Abby looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"That," he began, "was your uncle. He wants you back at an… interesting location so they can start up their con."

"What do you mean by interesting?" she questioned in response.