Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. This fic specifically has a child in harm's way and the violent removal of that threat onscreen. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.

Author's Note (Words of Interest): eym is Yiddish for "mother"; kine-ahora is (in this case) a prayer of protection against evil; a palm-pistol is a generic term for a Lady's Derringer, which is a hand pistol roughly the size of a woman's palm. Being small, they only ever have two shots max.

Author's Note(s): I am not Jewish. I'm very firmly a pagan and Choctaw. The closest I get to Jewish customs is research and Kabbalah (of which I am not a practitioner). However, Ana is canonically given as a practicing Jew from Hungary. So, I'm trying? And if you are Jewish and I'm really off-base with things, feel free to point me in the correct direction. I've got a few different sites I'm using but sometimes the information seems to rely on assumed information that I don't have. That's just what I catch in cultural differences.

Special Shout Out to: Tigerseye-and-Padfoot, for totally not crying over Ana falling love with Tony; Blue Rose (spittingllama7856), for her glee over the murderous research necessary for this fic which kept me from visiting the wrong end of my coffee; and my Joyful One, for listening a very long stream of thought about Ana's thoughts. Seriously, cyber pastries for all y'all.

Challenge Information:
Fill Number: 02
Representation(s): Ana Jarvis; Protection of Children
Bonus Challenges: Ladylike (Remorseless Violence)
Word Count: 841 (Story Only); 855 (Story & Epigraph)

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Protected Son
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"God could not be everywhere, so He created mothers."
– Jewish Proverb
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Anthony was barely three when he was nearly kidnapped the first time. The incident happened during a charity gala which the Starks were hosting at the Fifth Avenue mansion. The toddler looked so serious in his little tuxedo as he stood between his parents as they greeted their guests. Seeing him like that always broke Ana's heart a tiny bit. Her bug shouldn't be wearing such an expression or standing so still. It went against his nature. Anthony was always exploring something. He was clearly determined to be on his best behavior, his sharp gaze paying careful attention to both Howard and Maria to mimic the way they interacted with the guests.

Anthony was with his parents. He had been safe.

Ana was in the kitchen when the gunfire had sounded from the ballroom. The waitstaff, most of them hired for this single event, had quickly ran out the servant exit. A lifetime around conflict and military types had bred a different reaction into her. She ran towards the shots, towards the violence, barely slowing down to draw the palm-pistol from the holster doubling as a garter. Edwin was in that room. Anthony was there. She had to keep them safe. Thirty years was more than long enough to acquire the skills to help.

She didn't get far before nearly running into a small group of people who were clearly not guests. The three men were all in tactical gear. Ana was willing to bet that their vests were Kevlar as well. Her eyes darted around the confines of the hallway. At this point, anything would make the odds better. The narrowness of the hallway meant that the men wouldn't be able to attack her all at once, but the length meant there was no way she would be able to duck out of sight. She estimated that they would spot her in less than a minute—

"Eym!"

Ana focused automatically on the source of the cry. By this point, it was as much habit as it was instinct. Anthony was the only child who was supposed to be present, and he was also the only one likely to be calling out to her. Sure enough, the largest of the three men had the boy in his arms. His brown eyes were wide and glistening in the dim light of the hallway. One of his cheekbones had a red splotch on it and the eye above it was a bit puffy. Anything below that was covered by a meaty hand, clearly to keep him from calling out again. Her heart froze as she realized that his nose was covered as well. Kine-ahora.

"This is your only warning," she announced, inching forward as calmly as she could with her gun still pointed towards the ground. Who knew that years of dealing with mad scientists would allow one to keep their head during a crisis? "Let the child go and I will let you leave unharmed. Don't and you won't."

"You really think you're going to stop us with that little toy?"

All three of them had matching sneers on their face, despite only one of them actually saying anything. The idiots didn't even notice that she placed herself even with a side table with crystal candlesticks. Clearly none of them understood Yiddish. If they did, they would have understood their peril.

"Shut your eyes, little bug," Ana ordered, as she brought the gun up.

Trusting that Anthony would obey without question, she immediately fired. The force of the bullet going into the man's eye knocked them both backwards even as she was putting her last bullet into the bridge of the man best positioned to possibly grab the frantically squirming toddler. She dropped the now-expended gun as her other hand grabbed one of the candlesticks to swing it at the last threat standing. He crumbled like a puppet with cut strings, down for the count if he was even still alive.

Ana didn't stop to verify that.

It wasn't as important as the boy reaching for her. With the same motion used for rescuing him from tickle monsters named Jarvis, Ana scooped him into her arms. She cradled the back of his neck and head with one hand, while her other arm braced against his lower back. In return, Anthony clung to her with all four limbs. Her hold on the toddler secure, she kept moving up the hall towards the tapestry that hid the servant's stairwell. She had to get Anthony somewhere safe.

"Eym," Anthony whimpered as she locked the stairwell door behind her. His entire frame was trembling. To comfort both of them, she scratched lightly at his scalp as she settled them on the bottom step of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. Edwin would know where to look after things calmed enough for a headcount to be made and her gun was found. Meanwhile, they would be hidden in a securable location that was relatively unknown outside of the permanent staff.

"I've got you, little bug," she reassured him. "I've got you. You're safe now."

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An Ending
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