Guarding Harry (A H.S. Short Story - sequel to Unguarded)

Chapter One

Waking up so violently from my nightmare, I check to see if I've disturbed Harry. But I hear the even rhythm of his breathing and feel assured that he is still asleep.

I wipe away the beads of perspiration from my forehead and wrap my arms around my legs in an upright fetal position to stop the slight trembling. Resisting the urge to reach out and touch him for reassurance, I just can't bring myself to wake him from his peaceful slumber.

After a few moments, I slip out of bed, go into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, then make my way downstairs to the kitchen. I pause and silently curse as I forget and step on the only stair that creaks, giving notice of my passage.

With what has become a routine for the past week, I make myself some tea to try and calm the thoughts that have been plaguing me. Thoughts which gave birth to my nightmares because of information given to me from those I still have connections to at the FBI.

The only thing I've been told at this point is that there are new threats from an unknown source against my former partner, Alex Martin. All that's known right now is that the threats have been substantiated and I don't want Harry to know I've been asked to help assist the Bureau.

In the kitchen sink I view the remnants of the late night breakfast I shared with him just hours before. Syrup still sticking to the plates, my body warms just thinking about the ways we used the sweet maple concoction.

It started innocently enough when I noticed a golden drop on the corner of his mouth. I leaned over the table with a sudden impulse to lick it off, which led to a kiss, ending up with me facing him as I sat on his lap. Still, I wasn't satisfied.

Harry grinned when I took the tiny pitcher of syrup, pulled open his shirt, and let it drizzle down his chest.  My eyes never left his, until I slowly started kissing and licking it off of every single colorful piece of artwork on his warming skin. His lower abs have always been so sensitive, so I spent an inordinate amount of time there, before heading south.

By the time we hit the floor, we were both covered in the thick sweetness. Of course Harry promised payback, and he kept that promise.

We took our time showering off what little was left on our bodies. The hot steam was fragrant with maple and we continued to tease and whisper sensual nothings to each other until we were exhausted and called a truce.

When we fell into bed, we laughed as we thanked Mrs. Butterworth for bringing new meaning to breakfast being the most important meal of the day.

Last night helped keep my mind off of the past week, but it took a few hours for me to fall asleep in his arms as everything began to flood back. And a few hours of sleep is not enough for me to have a clear head in giving the Bureau an answer.

I turn my attention to look out the kitchen window, at the pitch black cloak of night. I love this time of morning, when the skyline is no longer littered with lights, but is yet to be on the verge of dawn. The city is still sleeping and I should be too. And yet, here I stand, still unsettled by my latest nightmare.

Even though I cannot see beyond the glass, it's strangely calming to stare through it. I think back to just over seven months ago when I moved in with Harry, and how at first I had bouts of bad dreams of Alex being shot. But with Harry's support, just over a month later, they were gone. In time for Christmas.

We spent the holidays both in the states and in England. Leaving a few days after Christmas to spend time with my family, we then traveled to Harry's hometown in Cheshire, ringing in the New Year with his loved ones.

I thought I knew the extent of my feelings for him when I moved in, but they grow stronger every day. I love him so much it almost hurts. I wish love conquered all, but it doesn't. At least not enough to exorcise the latest disturbing dreams out of my head.