So, this little gem's been floating around in my mind for years actually, and I think I started to actually write it once or twice, but my style's definitely evolved since then, so I'm back to give it another go.

DISCLAIMER: Last time I checked, I had lady parts and initials that weren't A.H. So sorry guys, don't own it.

The heavily muscled arm had been flung over her arm casually, but she knew, just as everyone else around them did, that the move had been a possessive one, the man marking his territory for all others in the bar with them. He played his part well, really, the only hardship they'd faced the lilting English accent that he hadn't been able to mask, but that she'd been able to explain away with psychology and a backstory more complicated than their boss had originally planned. Other than that though, he was perfect, with experience that she'd never have herself, his body a map of scars that helped add to the part he played with such precision, so that she oftentimes forgot he was only acting, even if she'd long ago stopped.

Slowly, she raises her hand to push her fingers through his blond locks of hair, revelling in how soft they always are, even as he refuses the conditioner she tells him to use. He turns his head, smiling crookedly at her, and she smiles back, shy, and slightly uncertain, before burying her head in the crook of his neck, knowing that this is probably the last time she will be so close to him. "You tired, babe?" His voice is amused, and low in her ear, and even though she feels as if she's downed a few cans of red bull, she nods. They should have left a little while ago, something that has worried her probably more than it has him, but their deal had run late, and then they'd been forced to sit and talk, so as not to arise suspicion from the bouncers. She knew the drill, and to start with, she'd been the calm one while he'd fretted, but tonight, she can't help it.

His grip tightens slightly on her shoulder, and even though she has no way of actually telling, she knows that he is smirking, by the smug quality to his voice when he addresses the group around them. "Guess I gave her a bit of a run this arvo, hey boys?" There's the sound of laughter, and the slap of skin against skin, before he's pulling her up, and she's glancing at the group that technically work for her, "Bedtime for us." She removes her face from the crook of his neck, and his arm slides so that it's wrapped around her waist, pulling her towards him, the pair's backs turning to the sound of catcalls and wolf whistles. Her fingers close gently over the hand laid on her waist, the pads of her fingers brushing over the back of it as she speaks. "Alex," her voice is quiet, but she knows that he can hear her, as he always seems to be able to, "I l-love you." She can feel him stiffen against her, and braces herself for the rejection that will surely come, a sting that won't stop, because their roles will stay with them for a little while yet, but it never comes, the beginning of his reply interrupted by the sound of gunfire, barely missing the pair of them.

When he does speak, he has pulled her flush against his chest, so that the bullets will rain against his back, and not hers, and her halting confession is momentarily forgotten. "Fuck."

I know this is short, but hey, its a prologue! So let me know what you think of it/ what you think its about/ what you think should happen with that pretty review button!