It's all about the Rules.
.01
________________________________________________________________________
Mark stood shakily and slowly, wiping his brow of the perspiration that had collected there under his dirty blonde hair. "False alarm?"
Tyler glanced over at him with a groan and tucked his gun beneath his jacket in his belt against his back. "Suppose so," he ran a hand through his unruly dark brown hair.
Tyler turned slowly, seeing the two heavily armed men a bit too late. They began to fire without mercy, advancing slowly.
"Ty!" Mark yelled, jumping out from behind the desk to grab Tyler's arm and pull him to safety.
Tyler reached around him for his gun, but it was too late. Mark's grip on his arm fell limp and his lifeless body fell to Tyler's feet.
Tyler let out a desperate and shocked cry, dropping to kneel on the office carpet beside the body. He reached around his waist swiftly and pulled the gun from his belt, barely taking the time to aim and simply firing in the direction of the two men continuously, gritting his teeth and squinting to rid his eyes of the welling tears.
________________________________________________________________________
Tyler awoke with a start, fists clenching the crisp cool sheets in a death grip. He panted desperately, darting his gaze around immediately and slowly relaxing as he realized where he was.
"A dream?" Dylan asked, sitting up slowly in the identical bed a few feet away.
Tyler simply nodded, gulping in the free air hungrily. He raised a hand to his forehead, relieving himself of the heavy sweat he felt.
Dylan watched him across the room through half lidded eyes hidden beneath light brown hair. "The same one?"
Tyler shook his head. "No, I shot back," Tyler closed his eyes, drawing his legs up and propping his elbows against them and letting his head hang heavily.
Dylan nodded as he yawned, trying to show some sign of paying attention as he fought himself to stay away. "Want to talk?" he asked quietly.
Tyler shook his head. "Water," he said simply, tossing the sheets aside and getting out of bed. He glanced over at Dylan slipping back into the covers before grabbing the empty glass from beside the bed.
Dylan sighed contently, mumbling something of a protest before steadily beginning to snore once more.
Tyler grabbed a t-shirt from the chair beside his bed and pulled it on, letting the ends fall on the top of his cotton pants lightly. He reached beneath his pillow and withdrew his gun, double checking the safety before tucking it in the back of his pants, pulling his shirt over it.
He quietly headed down the staircase towards the main kitchen, slowing significantly as he spotted Mark at the table. His head hung low and his eyes seemed to be shut.
Tyler contemplated turning around, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep any more that night. He was used to waking early, but lately it had gotten worse, with him only able to get four or five hours if he was lucky.
***Rule: For round-the-clock protection, the assigned agents from the organization must live on the same premises as the clients.***
Mark pushed the glass aside, resting his head in the palms of his hands and took a deep breath. He wore a baggy white t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and almost covered his boxers completely.
"It's late," Tyler said simply as his entrance, walking over to the glass beside Mark and lifting it to his nose. He eyed Tyler slightly, "Drinking?"
Mark looked up quickly, obviously caught off guard and nodded after a moment, changing his focus to the glass. "I couldn't sleep. I kept dreaming. I don't like sleeping alone," his eyes traveled up to meet Tyler's momentarily before turning away with a slight blush, lowering his head again.
"Your father?" Tyler glanced away from Mark and down the narrow hallway behind him.
Mark shrugged, beginning to sway slightly on the spinning stool beneath him.
Tyler reacted instantly, easily setting the two empty glasses on the counter and taking a few graceful steps towards Mark, slipping his arms under Mark's. "Let's go."
The stubborn teenager shrugged him off, slipping off the stool. "I can do it myself. I have to wash that glass first."
Tyler took Mark's arm lightly, leading him off down the corridor. "I'll do it."
Mark looked over to where Tyler put the glass and he groaned a little, "Oh shit, now I'm seeing double."
Tyler shook his head slightly, allowing a small smile tug the side of his lips. "There's two."
Mark laughed a little, turning to walk backwards in order to study Tyler. "I got worried." his smile faded slightly as he studied Tyler's expression carefully. "You don't talk that much."
"No?" Tyler responded, simply watching where they were going and trying to keep the younger boy quiet as they passed his father's room.
"Do you like working for my dad?" Mark asked, turning back around to watch where he was going. "He seems to like you. He's not dead yet, so obviously you're doing your job," Mark laughed again, accidentally tripping on a small part of bundled up carpet. "Oh damnit!" he whimpered though a long sigh.
"Come on," Tyler encouraged him, lifting Mark's arm and slipping it over and around his neck, leading him into his room and over to his bed.
"I don't feel so great. I'm not sure I want to go back to sleep. I don't want to have that dream again," Mark sat on his bed unmoving, staring up at Tyler uncertainly for a few moments before tilting his head slightly and asking, "Are you sure you're only nineteen?"
"Yes," Tyler said simply, staring down at him calmly.
"How'd you get this job if you're only nineteen? How long have you been doing this for?" Mark continued his questioning after a long drawn out yawn. "Did you always want to be a bodyguard? You seem so much older than me."
"I am," Tyler replied, reaching out to Mark's shoulder and applying slight pressure.
Mark sunk slightly under his hand, falling back to lie in his bed. "Hey, I'm seventeen!" he retorted. "That doesn't mean I'm that young. Just means that you're older. But you act like you're thirty."
"Night," Tyler said, lifting the blankets gently and tossing them over Mark and turning, heading out of his room.
"Yeah. night. Thanks, Ty. Could you wash that glass? Dad'll flip if he finds it in the morning."
Tyler glanced over his shoulder, watching Tyler through strands of dark hair hanging over his hazel eyes. "I'll take care of it."
"Thanks, you're the best," Mark mumbled, rolling over.
________________________________________________________________________
The door creaked open and Dylan rolled over to face Tyler, lazily opening his eyes and watching him walk over to his twin bed a few feet away. "Feel better?"
Tyler smirked almost pathetically before answering with a definitive, "No."
Dylan sighed and rolled over to face the wall, pulling the covers over his head. "Night," he mumbled.
Tyler set the glass of water he had brought with him on the table between the beds and slipped under the covers, staring up at the ceiling blankly. He had only a few hours left before he had to escort his boss to work.
'Why did I take this job when I'm only nineteen?' he thought.
________________________________________________________________________
"Morning, sir," Tyler greeted his employer, placing his empty glass of juice in the sink.
"Morning, Tyler, just about ready?" Mr. Maser questioned, lifting his briefcase up onto the counter and leaving it there as he readjusted his tie.
Tyler walked over to him and easily lifted the briefcase, preparing to carry it to the car for him. He tucked one hand in his pocket, watching Mr. Maser quietly.
"You're punctual, Tyler. That's what I like about you," he laughed heartily. Mr. Maser was a heavy man, standing only an inch or so taller than Tyler. "Shall we?"
Dylan refolded the newspaper he was reading and stood from the table, holding it out for Mr. Maser. "Have a nice day at the office, sir."
Mr. Maser nodded, smiling graciously as he took the paper from his outstretched hand. "Thank you, Dylan. Careful today."
"Of course, sir," he answered confidently. "Mark's no trouble at all."
***Rule: Assure the client of your confidence even if that confidence is lacking.***
"Jack!" Mrs. Maser's voice rang out from the hallway. She appeared in the kitchen with her hair done up, a silk robe hugging her body. "Jack, you were going to leave without saying?"
Mr. Maser rolled his eyes, laughing a bit. "I was letting you sleep, Belle."
Mrs. Maser smiled and hugged her husband, kissing him just after. "Take care dear."
"Of course, that's what these boys are for," Mr. Maser laughed heartily, turning to gesture to Dylan and Tyler.
"So young," Mrs. Maser sighed, shaking her head slightly.
"Best in the business," Mr. Maser reminded her. He turned to Tyler and raised his brows. "Ready?"
Tyler nodded, walking over to the door and pulling it open, stepping out first.
***Rule: Stay in front of the client.***
"Wait, Jack, I just looked in on Mark to wake him up," Mrs. Maser leaned into her husband, whispering the rest of the conversation. When she pulled away her face was etched with concern.
Mr. Maser sighed and kept his gaze on the floor for a moment before clenching his fists and looking over at Dylan sighing once again. "Keep an eye on that boy. He's causing more trouble each day."
"Yes, sir," Dylan replied, nodding and offering Mrs. Maser a comforting smile.
Tyler took a step back into the house. "Sir?"
Mr. Maser shook off the annoyed feeling and nodded, heading outside behind Tyler.
Mrs. Maser watched her husband quietly, her arms crossed tightly in front of her.
"Nice day out," Dylan commented, pocketing his hands in his black suit, identical to the one Tyler wore.
"I have to make sure Mark's up," Mrs. Maser turned from him, heading into the hallway.
"I can do that," Dylan offered, following her quietly.
Mrs. Maser turned, her eyes softening. "No thank you Dylan."
"Welcome, mam," Dylan said politely, turning to walk back into the kitchen.
Mrs. Maser smiled slightly, sighing before turning from him and continuing down the hallway, turning at the end into another long corridor.
________________________________________________________________________
Dylan drove round the circular driveway and pulled away from the house effortlessly. "Your dad told me to keep an eye on you."
Mark raised a brow, pushing up the long sleeves of his uniform and draping his arms over the backpack set in his lap. "Yeah, so?" He slouched further down against the backseat.
***Rule: Always position the client behind the passenger seat.***
"You were drinking again?" Dylan asked casually, turning the dark town car smoothly down another road.
Mark cursed quietly to himself. "Ty said he'd take care of it. Damn it."
Dylan raised a brow, glancing at him through the rear-view mirror. "Don't blame Tyler. He didn't say a thing."
"Then how the fuck did he know?" Mark turned towards him, raising both brows.
"Your mother."
"What, Tyler told my mom?" Mark sighed, eyeing him pathetically.
"No," Dylan sighed, making a sharper turn at the entrance at the school. "She knew."
Mark remained quiet, figuring that he wasn't all that far off, since he reeked of alcohol this morning.
Dylan stopped the car in a small parking lot just beside the main entrance, opening his door and stepping out. He turned around to see Mark already on his way into the building. "Mark!" he called after him, jogging slightly to catch up to him.
Mark kept walking, shaking his head slightly. "Come on, I'm here, can't you just watch me from afar?"
Dylan walked in front of him, staring him down. "You're to wait in the car until I walk around to open the door for you."
Mark rolled his eyes, making a move to step around Dylan which was easily blocked. "Fine, god, what's the big deal!?"
Dylan stepped aside, allowing Mark to walk by. "So I get the bullet and you don't."
***Rule: Check surrounding's thoroughly once entering a new locale before the client is allowed into the area.***
________________________________________________________________________
"Mr. Maser, a pleasure to see you this morning," an older woman looked up from her desk just outside his office.
"And you, Ida," Mr. Maser answered, smiling with a nod of his head.
Tyler opened Mr. Maser's office door and immediately let his eyes dart around the room, pushing the door completely open to press flat against the wall behind it. He felt the wall for the light switch and turned it on. Stepping inside, he made his way over to the desk and opened the top drawer and turned on the computer. Next he made his way across the room to the small bathroom, giving it a quick check and turning on that light as well. "All right, Mr. Maser."
"Sure is exciting," Mr. Maser commented, chuckling to himself as he stepped into his office and made his way over to his desk. "I know you've been here for a week, but I still find myself watching your routine each morning."
Tyler watched Mr. Maser until he was sitting at his desk before shutting the door and sitting beside in the same chair he sat in each day of the week since he began working for Mr. Maser. He picking up the newspaper beside him and opened it, setting it on his lap, reading with his head bowed.
"Tyler," Mr. Maser looked up from his briefcase momentarily. "Doesn't your neck hurt? Why don't you hold the paper up?"
"I wouldn't be able to see you."
***Rule: Keep the client in sight at all times.***
.01
________________________________________________________________________
Mark stood shakily and slowly, wiping his brow of the perspiration that had collected there under his dirty blonde hair. "False alarm?"
Tyler glanced over at him with a groan and tucked his gun beneath his jacket in his belt against his back. "Suppose so," he ran a hand through his unruly dark brown hair.
Tyler turned slowly, seeing the two heavily armed men a bit too late. They began to fire without mercy, advancing slowly.
"Ty!" Mark yelled, jumping out from behind the desk to grab Tyler's arm and pull him to safety.
Tyler reached around him for his gun, but it was too late. Mark's grip on his arm fell limp and his lifeless body fell to Tyler's feet.
Tyler let out a desperate and shocked cry, dropping to kneel on the office carpet beside the body. He reached around his waist swiftly and pulled the gun from his belt, barely taking the time to aim and simply firing in the direction of the two men continuously, gritting his teeth and squinting to rid his eyes of the welling tears.
________________________________________________________________________
Tyler awoke with a start, fists clenching the crisp cool sheets in a death grip. He panted desperately, darting his gaze around immediately and slowly relaxing as he realized where he was.
"A dream?" Dylan asked, sitting up slowly in the identical bed a few feet away.
Tyler simply nodded, gulping in the free air hungrily. He raised a hand to his forehead, relieving himself of the heavy sweat he felt.
Dylan watched him across the room through half lidded eyes hidden beneath light brown hair. "The same one?"
Tyler shook his head. "No, I shot back," Tyler closed his eyes, drawing his legs up and propping his elbows against them and letting his head hang heavily.
Dylan nodded as he yawned, trying to show some sign of paying attention as he fought himself to stay away. "Want to talk?" he asked quietly.
Tyler shook his head. "Water," he said simply, tossing the sheets aside and getting out of bed. He glanced over at Dylan slipping back into the covers before grabbing the empty glass from beside the bed.
Dylan sighed contently, mumbling something of a protest before steadily beginning to snore once more.
Tyler grabbed a t-shirt from the chair beside his bed and pulled it on, letting the ends fall on the top of his cotton pants lightly. He reached beneath his pillow and withdrew his gun, double checking the safety before tucking it in the back of his pants, pulling his shirt over it.
He quietly headed down the staircase towards the main kitchen, slowing significantly as he spotted Mark at the table. His head hung low and his eyes seemed to be shut.
Tyler contemplated turning around, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep any more that night. He was used to waking early, but lately it had gotten worse, with him only able to get four or five hours if he was lucky.
***Rule: For round-the-clock protection, the assigned agents from the organization must live on the same premises as the clients.***
Mark pushed the glass aside, resting his head in the palms of his hands and took a deep breath. He wore a baggy white t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and almost covered his boxers completely.
"It's late," Tyler said simply as his entrance, walking over to the glass beside Mark and lifting it to his nose. He eyed Tyler slightly, "Drinking?"
Mark looked up quickly, obviously caught off guard and nodded after a moment, changing his focus to the glass. "I couldn't sleep. I kept dreaming. I don't like sleeping alone," his eyes traveled up to meet Tyler's momentarily before turning away with a slight blush, lowering his head again.
"Your father?" Tyler glanced away from Mark and down the narrow hallway behind him.
Mark shrugged, beginning to sway slightly on the spinning stool beneath him.
Tyler reacted instantly, easily setting the two empty glasses on the counter and taking a few graceful steps towards Mark, slipping his arms under Mark's. "Let's go."
The stubborn teenager shrugged him off, slipping off the stool. "I can do it myself. I have to wash that glass first."
Tyler took Mark's arm lightly, leading him off down the corridor. "I'll do it."
Mark looked over to where Tyler put the glass and he groaned a little, "Oh shit, now I'm seeing double."
Tyler shook his head slightly, allowing a small smile tug the side of his lips. "There's two."
Mark laughed a little, turning to walk backwards in order to study Tyler. "I got worried." his smile faded slightly as he studied Tyler's expression carefully. "You don't talk that much."
"No?" Tyler responded, simply watching where they were going and trying to keep the younger boy quiet as they passed his father's room.
"Do you like working for my dad?" Mark asked, turning back around to watch where he was going. "He seems to like you. He's not dead yet, so obviously you're doing your job," Mark laughed again, accidentally tripping on a small part of bundled up carpet. "Oh damnit!" he whimpered though a long sigh.
"Come on," Tyler encouraged him, lifting Mark's arm and slipping it over and around his neck, leading him into his room and over to his bed.
"I don't feel so great. I'm not sure I want to go back to sleep. I don't want to have that dream again," Mark sat on his bed unmoving, staring up at Tyler uncertainly for a few moments before tilting his head slightly and asking, "Are you sure you're only nineteen?"
"Yes," Tyler said simply, staring down at him calmly.
"How'd you get this job if you're only nineteen? How long have you been doing this for?" Mark continued his questioning after a long drawn out yawn. "Did you always want to be a bodyguard? You seem so much older than me."
"I am," Tyler replied, reaching out to Mark's shoulder and applying slight pressure.
Mark sunk slightly under his hand, falling back to lie in his bed. "Hey, I'm seventeen!" he retorted. "That doesn't mean I'm that young. Just means that you're older. But you act like you're thirty."
"Night," Tyler said, lifting the blankets gently and tossing them over Mark and turning, heading out of his room.
"Yeah. night. Thanks, Ty. Could you wash that glass? Dad'll flip if he finds it in the morning."
Tyler glanced over his shoulder, watching Tyler through strands of dark hair hanging over his hazel eyes. "I'll take care of it."
"Thanks, you're the best," Mark mumbled, rolling over.
________________________________________________________________________
The door creaked open and Dylan rolled over to face Tyler, lazily opening his eyes and watching him walk over to his twin bed a few feet away. "Feel better?"
Tyler smirked almost pathetically before answering with a definitive, "No."
Dylan sighed and rolled over to face the wall, pulling the covers over his head. "Night," he mumbled.
Tyler set the glass of water he had brought with him on the table between the beds and slipped under the covers, staring up at the ceiling blankly. He had only a few hours left before he had to escort his boss to work.
'Why did I take this job when I'm only nineteen?' he thought.
________________________________________________________________________
"Morning, sir," Tyler greeted his employer, placing his empty glass of juice in the sink.
"Morning, Tyler, just about ready?" Mr. Maser questioned, lifting his briefcase up onto the counter and leaving it there as he readjusted his tie.
Tyler walked over to him and easily lifted the briefcase, preparing to carry it to the car for him. He tucked one hand in his pocket, watching Mr. Maser quietly.
"You're punctual, Tyler. That's what I like about you," he laughed heartily. Mr. Maser was a heavy man, standing only an inch or so taller than Tyler. "Shall we?"
Dylan refolded the newspaper he was reading and stood from the table, holding it out for Mr. Maser. "Have a nice day at the office, sir."
Mr. Maser nodded, smiling graciously as he took the paper from his outstretched hand. "Thank you, Dylan. Careful today."
"Of course, sir," he answered confidently. "Mark's no trouble at all."
***Rule: Assure the client of your confidence even if that confidence is lacking.***
"Jack!" Mrs. Maser's voice rang out from the hallway. She appeared in the kitchen with her hair done up, a silk robe hugging her body. "Jack, you were going to leave without saying?"
Mr. Maser rolled his eyes, laughing a bit. "I was letting you sleep, Belle."
Mrs. Maser smiled and hugged her husband, kissing him just after. "Take care dear."
"Of course, that's what these boys are for," Mr. Maser laughed heartily, turning to gesture to Dylan and Tyler.
"So young," Mrs. Maser sighed, shaking her head slightly.
"Best in the business," Mr. Maser reminded her. He turned to Tyler and raised his brows. "Ready?"
Tyler nodded, walking over to the door and pulling it open, stepping out first.
***Rule: Stay in front of the client.***
"Wait, Jack, I just looked in on Mark to wake him up," Mrs. Maser leaned into her husband, whispering the rest of the conversation. When she pulled away her face was etched with concern.
Mr. Maser sighed and kept his gaze on the floor for a moment before clenching his fists and looking over at Dylan sighing once again. "Keep an eye on that boy. He's causing more trouble each day."
"Yes, sir," Dylan replied, nodding and offering Mrs. Maser a comforting smile.
Tyler took a step back into the house. "Sir?"
Mr. Maser shook off the annoyed feeling and nodded, heading outside behind Tyler.
Mrs. Maser watched her husband quietly, her arms crossed tightly in front of her.
"Nice day out," Dylan commented, pocketing his hands in his black suit, identical to the one Tyler wore.
"I have to make sure Mark's up," Mrs. Maser turned from him, heading into the hallway.
"I can do that," Dylan offered, following her quietly.
Mrs. Maser turned, her eyes softening. "No thank you Dylan."
"Welcome, mam," Dylan said politely, turning to walk back into the kitchen.
Mrs. Maser smiled slightly, sighing before turning from him and continuing down the hallway, turning at the end into another long corridor.
________________________________________________________________________
Dylan drove round the circular driveway and pulled away from the house effortlessly. "Your dad told me to keep an eye on you."
Mark raised a brow, pushing up the long sleeves of his uniform and draping his arms over the backpack set in his lap. "Yeah, so?" He slouched further down against the backseat.
***Rule: Always position the client behind the passenger seat.***
"You were drinking again?" Dylan asked casually, turning the dark town car smoothly down another road.
Mark cursed quietly to himself. "Ty said he'd take care of it. Damn it."
Dylan raised a brow, glancing at him through the rear-view mirror. "Don't blame Tyler. He didn't say a thing."
"Then how the fuck did he know?" Mark turned towards him, raising both brows.
"Your mother."
"What, Tyler told my mom?" Mark sighed, eyeing him pathetically.
"No," Dylan sighed, making a sharper turn at the entrance at the school. "She knew."
Mark remained quiet, figuring that he wasn't all that far off, since he reeked of alcohol this morning.
Dylan stopped the car in a small parking lot just beside the main entrance, opening his door and stepping out. He turned around to see Mark already on his way into the building. "Mark!" he called after him, jogging slightly to catch up to him.
Mark kept walking, shaking his head slightly. "Come on, I'm here, can't you just watch me from afar?"
Dylan walked in front of him, staring him down. "You're to wait in the car until I walk around to open the door for you."
Mark rolled his eyes, making a move to step around Dylan which was easily blocked. "Fine, god, what's the big deal!?"
Dylan stepped aside, allowing Mark to walk by. "So I get the bullet and you don't."
***Rule: Check surrounding's thoroughly once entering a new locale before the client is allowed into the area.***
________________________________________________________________________
"Mr. Maser, a pleasure to see you this morning," an older woman looked up from her desk just outside his office.
"And you, Ida," Mr. Maser answered, smiling with a nod of his head.
Tyler opened Mr. Maser's office door and immediately let his eyes dart around the room, pushing the door completely open to press flat against the wall behind it. He felt the wall for the light switch and turned it on. Stepping inside, he made his way over to the desk and opened the top drawer and turned on the computer. Next he made his way across the room to the small bathroom, giving it a quick check and turning on that light as well. "All right, Mr. Maser."
"Sure is exciting," Mr. Maser commented, chuckling to himself as he stepped into his office and made his way over to his desk. "I know you've been here for a week, but I still find myself watching your routine each morning."
Tyler watched Mr. Maser until he was sitting at his desk before shutting the door and sitting beside in the same chair he sat in each day of the week since he began working for Mr. Maser. He picking up the newspaper beside him and opened it, setting it on his lap, reading with his head bowed.
"Tyler," Mr. Maser looked up from his briefcase momentarily. "Doesn't your neck hurt? Why don't you hold the paper up?"
"I wouldn't be able to see you."
***Rule: Keep the client in sight at all times.***