I'll Protect You (Original Version)

Introducing Logan Cross, intellectually gifted and a prodigy agent

That thought took him towards Sparrow. Once, he had heard her on the phone, speaking fluently in a foreign language that now sounded an awful lot like Cimerian.

But that couldn't be possible. Cross Academy offered foreign languages, but Sparrow wasn't in any one of them. The books she always dropped never contained a foreign language, and she never entered the cultural side of the academy.

Logan frowned. She wasn't even smart enough to engage in something foreigh--how pathetic.

"Why are you thinking of Sparrow?" James inquired.

"How is it that a girl of her IQ managed to enter this academy?" Logan snapped. "Honestly, I can't believe what goes on through her head."

"Neither can I. She told Mark once that she escaped an asylum. And Pepper swears that Sparrow talks to herself when she's alone." James hated Sparrow as much as Logan. For once, Sparrow had beaten James at a test, and it infuriated James to the point beyond saving.

"Pepper's not always right, you know," Logan reminded him. Pepper was a gossip girl, and it bothered Logan how she cared more for her looks than she did for her studies. She hid it carefully around him, but he found out that when she studied, she tended to apply lipstick every five minutes.

"She's more right than Sparrow," James snorted.

"Everybody is more correct than Sparrow," Logan snickered.

They both laughed hysterically at the truth of that comment. Logan could barely breathe when he heard someone clear their throat by the back where the doors were.

"Then you two need to reevaluate the intelligence of this school," someone sneered. James fell off his chair, his face pale and frozen. Logan looked up, the smile sliding off his face like butter on a pan when he saw the red headed girl standing in the doorway.

She got the gum out of her hair, at least.

"What are you doing over here?" he snapped. "This area of the school is reserved for the advanced classes. Not a place for people like you."

"Oh, bother, that just totally ruined my tour of this completely enviable area," she replied. "Oh, the depression of not being able to be breathing in the same classroom as Logan Cross. Kill me now!"

He scowled and instantly stood up, prepared to argue with her just for the sake of beating her nasty comments. Sparrow chuckled and crossed her arms, an amused expression on her face.

"Relax, Your Majesty, I'm just here to deliver a message," she yawned, running her fingers through her fire engine red hair. Again, how does someone get their hair color to be that red? A bottle, of course.

"Demoting yourself to being a messenger girl?" he scoffed. "At least you'll be of some use."

Her dark chocolate eyes narrowed dangerously. "Your father's here," she informed quickly before turning on her heel and marching away. A sharp cry of pain  came to his ears and he chuckled softly. Clumsy as ever.

He left the classroom, where he saw Sparrow clutching her arm, an annoyed look on her face. She was muttering something about bumbling idiots in the hallway that refused to watch where they were going.

"Idiot," he chuckled sarcastically as he wandered by her. A sharp intake of breath was inhaled, and he prepared for a retort when his eyes caught sight of magazines. The student council didn't allow magazines yet. They were still debating about whether it was beneficial to the education of the student body.

"Hey," he barked to a second year. She jumped and her glasses almost slid off her nose. A presence by his side caused him to divert his glare for a second. Sparrow stood there, looking rather alert as her eyes settled on the pink covered tabloid.

"M-me?" she murmured, not daring to look me in the eye. Good choice. He could get scary with direct eye contact. Unless it was Sparrow. She had never looked away from his stare not once. It was the one part of her that he respected--boldness.

"Let me see that." Holding his hand out, he gestured for the magazine. Timidly, she handed the thick roll of paper into his hands. The king and queen of Cimeria were on the front, along with their youngest child.

A bit more interested than he actually thought he would be, he asked her to wait for a few minutes and began flipping through the pages. They were all about the King and Queen. Then Logan happened upon a section about their youngest child, the Princess of Cimeria.

She was seventeen, almost eighteen. She hadn't been in public for almost six years, for she was studying abroad and keeping away from the assassinations that had been attempted during her childhood. Poor girl. It was like his life, except he wasn't royal and the assassinations were performed because they hated him. Not because they wanted his throne.

 Sparrow was still standing in front of him. He looked up, preparing to snap at her for being a creepy stalker when he saw how white she had gotten. Her knuckles were clenching her skirt until they started creating permanent wrinkles. Her dark brown eyes were gaping at the picture of the princess with the utmost horror.

"Hey," he remarked, "she looks like you."

The red hair, obviously, was taken out. But when he did that, he saw clearly that she could be part of the royal family. Both Sparrow and the princess had delicate faces and pale pink lips. They had the same shade of eyebrows with the same shape. Their eyes were a shockingly twin color of dark brown, quizzical and cynical, their lips turned up in a crooked smile as if she was trying to decide whether he was an enemy or foe.

Sparrow didn't say anything; she dashed away, tension bouncing away from her ankle boots. Logan raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Well, wasn't that...interesting.

"Here you go," he drawled, thrusting the magazine into her hands. Her breath came out short and her eyes sparkled as she  stared at me. Second years were weird.

"You're welcome!" the girl squeaked. "Um...would you like to join me for lunch?"

"Not interested." He walked away towards his mother's office. He didn't bother to spare a glance for a girl, but he was interested in where Sparrow had disappeared off to. She was nowhere in sight--that was fast.

He reached the office rather quickly and entered the headmistress' office. His mother stood by the window, looking out below to the courtyard where she could keep a hawk's eye on the activity below. His father stood by a writing desk that was used purely for decoration.

He wore a neat black suit, and his dark but graying hair was combed back neatly. He looked professional, not deadly, for once. Logan smirked as he saw the bright tan loafers on his father's feet.  He didn't say anything, though.

He was such a horrible son. 

However, half of his mind was still on Sparrow. What had made her look so spooked? Did she hate the princess of Cimeria? Did she have an allergy to tabloids? Was she scared of reading? That's it; she didn't like reading.

"First off, I'd like to tell you how honored we were when William and Giselle approached us and asked personally for you," Logan's father started. His mother looked over, the proudest smile on her face as she beamed at her son.

"William and Giselle...the king and queen of Cimeria?" Logan asked. "Asked for what?"

"The princess of Cimeria, as you know, is returning to her country this summer," his mother explained. "She is in need of a bodyguard."

"And they wanted me?" Logan snorted. "Okay, nice joke. Now tell me the real mission."

Part of him was hoping that they were kidding. He didn't want to be a bodyguard! He wanted to track down an assassin, or deactivate a bomb in Alaska.

"She's young. She can't travel if she has a bodyguard who is forty hanging around her all day. They wanted the brightest and the best agent to guard her. It's a rather long term time, and it doesn't mean that you can lose other missions. Keep in mind that several guards have been shot while on their duty to protect her. She's a target for hundreds," his father continued. "I was so happy to hear that my son was thought to be qualified for such an envied job."

"So, tonight, when we come to meet them, you will become the bodyguard for the princess of Cimeria," his mother finished.

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