Hey guys, it's been a bit but here we are. I apologize yet again for the 2,000th time on the long wait, but the story is not dead and we are moving forward. Some minor life updates, started out on my first internship so I'll be busy, both in work and adjusting in a new city. But the show goes on :) I appreciate all your patience and support!

Reviews!

(Mr Reader)

After this story, is there going to be more?

Yes, there will be a planned sequel involving the Bad Guys 2 timeline. Depends how well Marcus and Diane's arc goes.

(Mr Reader ( again :) ) )

What kind of skills does Marcus have, John Wick skills or Liam Neeson skills from Taken?

Marcus would more closely align with John Wick, obviously without the huge plot armor. But if we are to talk percentages, I would say he retains about probably 40% of John Wick's tactical and "gun-fu" skills. He's a highly trained HRT operator after all.

(poeskop69)

may I have some oats, brother

but on a serious note I love what your doing. this Idea was in my head for ages and I finally found a story with this premise

I appreciate it! I was just like you. I kept it in my head for a while and I've read similar fics but didn't really find one that sat well, so I just decided to express it through writing. Hope you enjoy further chapters as they go.

Story time!

While the evening's events unfolded and the Bad Guys wove through their meticulously planned heist, Diane and Marcus found themselves lost in their own world, bound by love, concern, and a shared protectiveness.

Diane, poised to grace the stage and address the esteemed guests, noticed a conflicted look on Marcus's face. "Something on your mind?" she asked gently, her voice cutting through the murmur of the bustling hall.

Marcus attempted to downplay his concerns. "It's nothing, just some trivial things," he muttered, his gaze darting away, avoiding her probing eyes. But Diane wasn't one to be easily brushed off. She took his hand, her touch gentle yet firm, grounding him. "Come on, Marcus. Talk to me. Clearly, something's bothering you."

With a heavy sigh, Marcus relented, his voice carrying a tinge of raw frustration. "It's just...seeing that guy—Mr. Poodleton—take your hand like that, and the way some of the other men here look at you... It's like they see you as a trophy, not the respected governor you are. It makes my blood boil."

Diane's eyes softened, understanding his protective instincts yet aware of their precarious position. "Marcus, I know it's hard. And believe me, no one appreciates your care more than I do. But we can't afford to show our hand. If people start suspecting you're more than just my bodyguard..."

Marcus's expression turned pensive, the weight of their secret relationship pressing down on him. "I know, Diane. It's just...sometimes I wish we didn't have to hide. Imagine a day when I can openly be there for you, without all these shadows."

Their conversation was abruptly cut off as Diane glanced down at her right hand, her face draining of color. "My ring—it's gone!" she gasped, her voice rising in panic as she frantically searched around her.

Marcus's jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes as he recalled Mr. Poodleton's earlier interaction. "That scumbag...I knew he was trouble. I'll make him pay," he growled, his protective instincts flaring with a fierce resolve.

But Diane halted his burgeoning vendetta. "Marcus, I need to go on stage. We can't stop the event over this, no matter how important that ring is."

In a gesture brimming with love and quick thinking, Marcus slipped off his simple band from his middle finger and placed it onto Diane's ring finger. "Until we find yours, this will do," he assured her, his voice steady despite the ring's slight looseness on her finger.

Diane's eyes filled with gratitude and affection. "Thank you, Marcus. For being here, not just as my protector but as the man I love."

A blush crept over Marcus's cheeks as he admitted, "I love you so much, Diane. I'm sorry if I get too possessive sometimes. It's just...you mean everything to me."

Diane pulled Marcus closer, her voice low and playful, tinged with a hint of mischief. "And I'm not complaining, you know. I actually love how protective you are. But really, Marcus, how did a big, serious agent like you end up falling so hard for someone like me?"

Marcus's eyes sparkled with warmth as he leaned in, his response a perfect blend of humor and sincerity. "Honestly? I think you're the one who needs to take responsibility for knocking me completely off my feet," he replied, his tone teasing yet deeply affectionate.

"With pleasure." Diane whispered back, her words a soft caress as their lips met in a tender, lingering kiss that was suddenly interrupted by a gentle clearing of a throat.

"Governor, it's time." a female staffer interjected, her voice carrying a gentle urgency that tugged them back to the reality of their roles.

Their cheeks flushed and their gazes still locked in a silent exchange of 'I love you.' Diane and Marcus reluctantly parted. With a final, affectionate glance, Diane turned to embrace her public duties on the stage, carrying the warmth of their private moment into the spotlight.

The atmosphere in the grand hall of the Museum of Fine Arts was charged with anticipation as the guests awaited the commencement of the Good Samaritan Awards. The gentle hum of conversation faded into a respectful silence as the announcer's voice filled the space, setting the stage for an evening dedicated to honoring altruism and courage. "Ladies and gentlemen, your emcee for the Good Samaritan Awards, president of the committee, Governor Diane Foxington!" the announcer proclaimed, her voice resonating with pride and excitement.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, a warm welcome for the governor who had captured the hearts of many with her dedication and grace. Diane emerged from the wings, her presence commanding yet warm, a beacon of leadership and compassion.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you," Diane began, her voice carrying through the microphone, each word genuine and heartfelt. "Last year, we faced our biggest test when a meteorite crashed into our dear city. That meteorite didn't just make a hole in our city. It made a hole in our hearts." The crowd responded with a collective "Aw," moved by her words, a reflection of the shared trials and tribulations that had tested their resilience.

Diane continued, her speech a tribute to the spirit of the community and the individuals who had risen to the occasion. "But even in tragedy, Professor Marmalade, he did what he does so well. He made us look at things differently. And thanks to you, Marmalade, the Love Crater Meteorite will forever serve as a symbol of how there is good even in the worst places." Applause filled the hall once more, a testament to the collective admiration and respect for Professor Marmalade's contributions and the positive outlook he inspired in the aftermath of the crisis.

As the applause surged through the grand hall, Marcus stood to the side, his admiration for Diane swelling with each clap that echoed around them. He watched her, bathed in the spotlight, radiating the kind of grace and charisma that had first drawn him to her. In that moment, as he reflected on their journey together, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the privilege of being at her side, through every triumph and challenge.

Absorbed in the resonance of her words, Marcus savored the connection that deepened with every gesture she made, every inflection in her voice. It was during this spell of quiet reflection that Amanda, who had earlier glimpsed a more intimate side of their relationship, approached him. Her gentle tap on his shoulder was a soft interruption to his reverie.

"Marcus, right?" Amanda said with a knowing smile, her tone friendly yet slightly teasing.

"Yes, that's me," Marcus replied, slightly startled out of his reverie. He was instantly on alert, the brevity of his response mirroring his wariness.

Amanda didn't beat around the bush. "I couldn't help but notice the... special moment you and Governor Foxington shared earlier. How long have you two been together?" Her tone was casual but clearly showed she understood the gravity of what she'd witnessed.

Marcus knew there was no point in pretending, especially not with someone who had seen too much. He sighed, a mix of resignation and trust coloring his voice. "A few months now. It's something we've had to be very careful about, given our positions."

Amanda's expression softened, her smile reassuring. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. It's quite beautiful to see love find a way, even here."

"Thank you, Amanda. That means a lot to both of us, more than you might realize," Marcus said, the sincerity in his voice reflecting his relief and gratitude.

With Amanda's promise of discretion, Marcus felt a reassuring sense of security. He turned back to watch Diane, who was still brilliantly engaging with her audience, embodying both warmth and wisdom. Knowing their secret was safe for now, Marcus felt a small comfort, but it also reminded him of the ongoing challenges of their hidden relationship amidst the scrutinizing public eye.

As Diane continued her speech with the same grace and composure she was known for, the audience was captivated, hanging on her every word. "…and successfully reversed climate change for the well-being of all of us. This landmark achievement not only reflects our commitment but also exemplifies our collective potential when we unite for a common cause. Together, we have proven that action and innovation can lead us to a sustainable future." She paused, letting her words resonate throughout the hall. "And now, please join me in welcoming to the stage, Professor Marmalade!" she announced, her voice brimming with pride and admiration.

The crowd erupted into applause as the distinguished guinea pig, Professor Marmalade, made his way onto the stage, his demeanor poised and his attire impeccable. The audience's affection was palpable, with cries of "We love you, Professor Marmalade!" filling the air, a testament to the impact of his work and character.

However, during Marmalade's speech, a sudden, loud noise disrupted the hall—a huge fart echoed, leaving Marcus and the crowd momentarily stunned. Despite the secondhand embarrassment that washed over Diane, Professor Marmalade continued undeterred, a slight blush on his cheeks the only sign of his acknowledgment of the unexpected interruption.

After Marmalade concluded his speech, Diane prepared the audience for the highlight of the evening. "And now the moment we've all been waiting for," she said, the anticipation in her voice mirroring that of the crowd. The curtain began its ascent, a dramatic reveal that promised to be the pinnacle of the night.

"We gather here tonight not just to celebrate the achievements of our most esteemed citizens, but to recognize the individuals who go above and beyond in their commitment to making our world a better place. It is through their dedication, innovation, and unwavering compassion that we are reminded of the good that exists in all of us. One such individual has not only inspired change but has also set a shining example for others to follow. And now it is my honor to award Professor Marmalade with the Golden Dolphin!" Diane announced, her voice filled with excitement. But as the curtains lifted in perfect sync, they revealed not the prestigious award but an empty stand. "No..." Diane uttered, a single word heavy with disbelief and distress as the crowd gasped in shock.

Marcus, who had been briefly engaging with Amanda over sports news, snapped his attention back to the stage at the sound of the crowd's shock and Diane's distressed voice. Without a moment's hesitation, he sprang into action. "Amanda, take cover." he instructed quickly, stripping off his suit jacket to reveal the tactical rig beneath. He zipped up the vest, tucking his tie behind the zipper to prevent any snags, and unholstered the MP5k from his shoulder holster.

He dashed onto the stage, positioning himself protectively in front of Diane. "FBI! Everyone stay calm and remain in your seats!" Marcus commanded, his voice booming across the hall with authority and urgency. "Security protocol is in effect. Please follow all instructions for your safety!"

The audience, taken aback by the sudden shift from celebration to high alert, watched in a mix of shock and awe. Diane, though slightly shaken, spoke into her microphone. "Everyone, everyone, uh, please don't panic. Just stay calm. I'm-I'm sure there's an explanation for this." she reassured the crowd, her voice steady but clearly strained by the unexpected turn of events.

Marcus glanced back at Diane, seeking silent confirmation of her well-being. She nodded and gave him a reassuring smile, signaling that she was okay despite the chaos.

Turning to his earpiece, Marcus issued commands on the DPS channel, his voice calm but authoritative. "We have a 10-33, secure the perimeter of the atrium and ensure Professor Marmalade's safety immediately," he directed. Switching channels, he then spoke to his fellow HRT operators. "Code black, I repeat, code black. Stay on high alert; this could be the work of the Bad Guys. Be ready to engage."

Almost instantly, about eight DPS Agents flooded into the atrium. Each agent had their sidearm drawn, maintaining a high level of alertness. "Please remain calm and do not move!" one of the agents commanded the guests, his voice firm yet designed to avoid causing panic.

The agents swiftly surrounded the stage. "Two of you, escort Professor Marmalade to a secure location now," Marcus ordered crisply. Without hesitation, two agents approached the professor, quickly but gently escorting him off the stage to ensure his safety.

"Check the awards room, sweep every corner," Marcus instructed the remaining agents, who nodded and immediately set out to secure the area, moving with trained efficiency.

Meanwhile, Diane, standing by Marcus's side, addressed the crowd once again, her voice projecting calm and authority despite the chaos, "Ladies and gentlemen, please, I repeat, do not panic. We are handling the situation and appreciate your cooperation. Stay where you are and follow any instructions from the security team." Her presence and reassurance were vital, helping to maintain order among the understandably nervous guests.

A minute or two later, the six agents returned from clearing the room. They approached Marcus to report their findings. "Sir, the upper vent has been tampered with, and the WPSST protection system has been overridden," one agent informed him with a serious tone.

Marcus sighed in disappointment and muttered under his breath, "So much for our top-tier security. That system's just another drain on taxpayers' money."

Just then, he received a radio update from his fellow HRT operators. "We have eyes on the perimeter and are ready to react on your command," crackled through his earpiece.

Diane, sensing the tension, leaned in and asked Marcus, "Is everything under control?"

Marcus glanced at her, his expression a blend of focus and reassurance. "We're handling it. Stay close," he replied before returning to his vigilant guardian state.

Meanwhile, Wolf navigated through the distracted crowd, subtly passing the Golden Dolphin to Mr. Shark to conceal under his disguise. The Bad Guys grouped up, preparing to make their escape. "Nice work, everybody. Now, let's make like a wolf and get the pack out of here," Wolf quipped with a smirk.

"Ah, wordplay. I don't get it," Mr. Piranha commented, clearly confused but amused.

As the drama unfolded on stage, everyone, including the culprits of the evening's upheaval, found themselves captivated. Yet, despite the advice of the DPS agents who tried to keep him safe, Professor Marmalade decided to return to the stage. "Professor, it's not safe right now," one agent attempted to dissuade him.

Undeterred, Marmalade pressed on and climbed onto the podium. "Diane, Diane, if I may…" He paused as the microphone feedback squealed, causing a brief wince among the audience. Regaining his composure, he continued, "You have to understand, I didn't bring hope back to the city for an award. I did these good things because of how they made me feel. That tingly feeling I get. That shiver up my spine. The wag in my tiny tail. Because, you see, being good just feels so good. And when you're good, you're loved," Marmalade concluded, his voice firm and heartfelt, his words a poignant reminder of the intrinsic value of virtue and the universal longing for acceptance and love.

Caught off guard by the sincerity and truth in Marmalade's speech, Wolf found himself momentarily immobilized, his tail betraying his emotions with an involuntary wag. His companions, noticing his unusual stance, urged him to move, aware that every second of hesitation increased their risk of capture. Their fears were realized when a pair of guests noticed the commotion, their discovery of Wolf's true identity sparking panic and immediate action. "It's the Bad Guys!" a guest exclaimed, the revelation sending shockwaves through the hall.

Misty Luggins pushed them aside and swiftly commanded her officers to apprehend the criminals. "Arrest them!" she shoued, her team springing into action with a chorus of "Hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut" echoing as they converged on the Bad Guys, batons at the ready.

The police officers formed a circle around them, growling and ready to place them under arrest. Misty Luggins appeared in the center and shouted, "They stole the Golden Dolphin!" Wolf tried to play it off with a smirk, "Come on, you can't prove that." But his defiance met an unexpected setback as the Golden Dolphin, the object of their daring heist, tumbled from Shark's disguise. "My baby!" Shark exclaimed, his voice faltering under the weight of their imminent capture.

Misty Luggins cracked her knuckles and issued her command. "On your knees, Bad Guys. With your hands up," she demanded.

A few minutes earlier...

Perched at a secured vantage point, the HRT contingent maintained a sharp overwatch on the perimeter. The event had been proceeding smoothly until Professor Marmalade's unexpected return to the podium triggered a shift in the atmosphere. It wasn't until Wolf inadvertently broke his cover, moved by Marmalade's heartfelt speech, that a vigilant HRT spotter with his marksman observed the notorious criminal. "Target sighted. Wolf's in the open," the spotter called out over the comms, his voice steady and alert.

The spotter watched as Misty Luggins' police officers quickly surrounded the Bad Guys, creating a tight circle of authority around them. He keyed his radio, asking Marcus for confirmation, "Sir, do we engage? Requesting greenlight."

Marcus, still on stage and acting as Diane's shield, responded without hesitation, his voice firm over the comm channel. "Greenlight confirmed. Take the shot if necessary, but keep it clean. We need them alive."

Acknowledging the order, the spotter looked through his rangefinder, announcing the range to his shooter. "Two hundred meters, no wind. Adjust for a two-inch drift left."

The shooter nodded, adjusting the optic of his sniper rifle with practiced ease. His finger rested lightly on the trigger, ready but controlled. The tension was palpable as they watched Mr. Snake shout defiantly at the encircling officers, moments before Wolf pulled out a grapple gun and aimed it skyward, preparing for a dramatic escape.

"Targets may evade. Take the shot." the spotter instructed tersely, his voice a whisper of urgency.

The shooter exhaled slowly, the world narrowing down to the crosshairs of his scope. He waited for just the right moment, where collateral was minimal and the shot clear. With a final check of his alignment, he squeezed the trigger. The sound of the rifle's report was a sharp crack that split the air, the bullet of 7.62 mm caliber racing towards its target.

Back in Present Time...

As Misty Luggins ordered the Bad Guys to surrender, it was Snake who declared, "Never! We're outta here!" Their spirit of rebellion undiminished, smiles of mischief played on their faces as Wolf prepared their dramatic exit. He aimed the grapple gun at the roof's glass window. "So long, suckers!" he taunted, the bond of camaraderie tightening as they readied to escape. But fate had other plans. A deadly crackle filled the air, and the line was severed by a precise shot. The Bad Guys watched as the grapple line fell to the ground, and Wolf looked at his now useless grapple gun, realizing there was no escape. The shocked crowd, including police and Bad Guys, turned to the source of the gunshot.

From the shadows, the HRT made their dramatic entrance. Their suppressed carbines gleamed under the venue's lights, a testament to their unwavering commitment to justice. The fully kitted operators rappelled down, creating an awe-inspiring sight that captured the attention of everyone present. The police officers in the circle could barely contain their shock, their expressions a mix of awe and admiration. "I don't believe it…that's Domestic Delta!" one officer whispered to another, their professional respect evident.

The operators made their way to the circle and took charge of the situation. In perfect sync, the operators raised their assault rifles at the Bad Guys. One of the operators then barked out commands, his voice booming and intimidating. "Hands up! Drop your weapons and surrender. There's nowhere to run!"

Despite the overwhelming force before them, Mr. Piranha stood in defiance and taunted the operators. "Oh yeah? Looks like a lot of bark and no bite. You wouldn't dare shoot!" he jeered, getting into a fighting stance.

One of the operators quickly relayed to Marcus, "Boss, we got one that's non-compliant. Awaiting further instructions."

Marcus, maintaining control over the situation, responded decisively. "Deploy non-lethal rounds. Incapacitate if necessary."

Just as Mr. Piranha was about to charge, the line of HRT operators split in half, allowing three operators who wielded firearms with orange markings to step forward. Mr. Piranha laughed and mocked the three operators holding what appeared to be less-threatening weapons. "What's this? Super soakers? You gonna squirt me to submission?" he scoffed.

Wolf, sensing the gravity of the situation, tried to caution Piranha. "Piranha, don't—"

But it was too late. Piranha cracked his neck and charged at the operators.

In an efficient burst of action, the three operators fired their pepperball guns. Piranha was swiftly overwhelmed by a barrage of pepperballs, each hit echoing through the hall. The notorious brawler was hammered by around 40 rounds before one operator called out, "Cease fire!" The barrage ceased, and everyone watched as a visibly shaken Piranha, still trying to uphold his defiant persona, gasped, "Is that all you got?" His voice was weak, strained.

One operator, unamused, silenced him with a precise pepperball shot to the head, causing Piranha to collapse.

The HRT operators then turned to the remaining Bad Guys, their voices stern as they commanded, "Surrender now, or we will use force!"

Faced with no viable escape and witnessing the consequences of resistance, the Bad Guys surrendered. The operators swiftly moved in to arrest them. Shark offered little resistance as he was subdued, while Ms. Tarantula found herself confined within a secure box. Ironically, Snake was restrained using a snake-restraining tube, and Wolf was handcuffed. The leader of the gang watched helplessly as a breathing but incapacitated Piranha was dragged off the ground and secured in cuffs as well.

With the Bad Guys securely detained, Marcus and Diane made their way to the scene. The HRT operators respectfully stepped aside, allowing their leaders to take charge. Diane folded her arms, a wry smile playing on her lips as she regarded the subdued criminals. "Just like I said, second-rate has-beens," she remarked, amused.

Marcus glared dominantly at Wolf, circling the notorious gang before delivering a slick insult. "Looks like the big bad wolves are more like lost pups tonight."

An operator handed Marcus a radio to communicate directly with FBI high command, who had been notified of the situation. "This is Gold Team. The Bad Guys have been apprehended. Awaiting directives on federal processing," he reported, his tone professional and clear.

After a brief pause, the FBI supervisor responded, praising their efficiency but downplaying the significance of the arrest. "Great job, Gold Team, but let's not waste federal resources on small fry. Hand them over to local PD. They're not worth the paperwork."

The Bad Guys, overhearing this, were visibly offended by the dismissive remark, their pride wounded by being labeled insignificant.

Marcus nodded in acknowledgment of the instructions and ordered the operators to hand the criminals off the to the LAPD, their job was done for the night.

As the Bad Guys were being led away, Misty Luggins couldn't help but gush over Marcus, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she approached him. "You guys were incredible! Honestly, I've never seen anything like it. How do you keep so calm under pressure like that?" Her admiration was evident, her eyes sparkling with genuine respect.

Marcus gave a polite nod, his tone cool but professional. "Just experience and good teamwork, Chief. We prepare for every possible scenario."

Diane, standing nearby, watched the exchange with an amused, though slightly narrowed gaze. Misty's flattery wasn't lost on her, and while Diane knew it was innocent, the subtle pang of jealousy flickered in her chest. She smiled lightly, her tone smooth but with a hint of edge. "Marcus has always had a talent for keeping things under control."

Misty laughed, clearly oblivious to the undertone. "No wonder. It's good to have someone like him watching your back, Governor. You're in the best hands." She gave one last admiring glance at Marcus before turning away to oversee the Bad Guys being led off in cuffs.

As soon as Misty turned away, Diane stepped closer to Marcus, her voice dropping to a teasing, sultry tone. "Quite the show you put on, saving the day and catching all that attention. Didn't realize you'd be such a hit tonight," she teased, a flicker of jealousy behind her words, though her smile was still in control.

Marcus leaned in, his smirk growing. "Jealous, Governor?" he murmured, his voice low and laced with challenge, the tension between them crackling in the air.

Diane arched an eyebrow, her smile turning wicked. "Jealous? Hardly. But I do like reminding certain people where your loyalty lies."

Marcus's eyes darkened, his voice dropping even lower. "You don't have to remind me. But if you insist…" he let the suggestion hang between them, heavy with promise.

Diane chuckled, leaning in just enough for her words to send a shiver down his spine. "Oh, I insist. Tonight, you're mine."

Their eyes locked, the air between them humming with the weight of what wasn't being said. But with a quick glance over her shoulder, Diane straightened, slipping seamlessly back into her poised public demeanor as footsteps approached.

Before walking away, she threw him one last look, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't keep me waiting."

Marcus's smirk deepened as he watched her go, his professional exterior betraying nothing of the heat coursing through him. He adjusted his stance, slipping back into the role of her protector, but his thoughts were already on the promise of what awaited them later.

The night had only just begun.