Benedict Cumberbatch and the Bodyguard

Secuirty

I nodded, then took a deep breath, when he touched me with his gloved fingers. A small bit of latex-free material, the only barrier preventing from me feeling his skin against mine. Charlotte, get a frigging grip.

"Charlotte, god that thing looks wretched. I can't bring myself to say your wound. I'm so sorry. I'm going to put the bandage on now. Am I pressing too hard?"

I shook my head. "No, it's fine, thanks."

I cleared my throat. "Shall we withdraw to the parlor?"

Benedict bowed. "After you my lady."

I watched him sit down once more in the plastic chair.

"Sorry, I haven't gotten around to buying suitable furniture."

He sniffed. "Nonsense, this chair is quite lovely. Why I saw the same one at the palace, it's the Queen's favorite."

"Stop, don't make me laugh. It hurts."

His expression sobered. "Charlotte, I can't thank you enough. Are you sure there's nothing I can get you?"

A wicked thought crept into my mind. "Well, there is one thing?"

Benedict sat forward. "Anything."

"Make sure there's a Sherlock Season 5 before I'm 40."

He laughed. "I'll do my best."

The room became engulfed in silence. "So, how's your family?"

Benedict's expression brightened and he held out his phone.

Oh great, now I get to look at photos. I swiped through a gallery of perfection, two children, beautiful wife, lovely grounds. He looks happy. I'm glad, a bit jealous, but glad for him. "They're all wonderful."

"And it's thanks to you that I get to enjoy them. You should come visit sometime."

Seriously? Like I want to see the opposite of my life staring me down. Stop it, Charlotte. He took time out of his busy schedule to thank you.

"My schedule's pretty hectic. I'm not sure where I'm going next," I replied, handing him back the phone.

"Well, I've got a lot of projects in the fire as well."

I sipped on my tea, not sure of what to say. "My tea's gotten cold. I'm going to nuke it. Do you want me to heat yours as well?"

He gave me a look of mock outrage. "No, not the microwave."

I laughed. "Sorry, I forgot you're a purist."

We both listened to the hum of the microwave, while its contents went around and around. When it beeped, I jumped, then wrenched open the door, slamming it shut.

"Do you get some time off before you go to another project?" I asked him.

He nodded. "We need to get away. How about you? Any vacation plans?"

Plans? Where would I go? What would I do? I shook my head. "No, I need to get back to work."

"I understand. Well, I have to finish tea and go. I've got another engagement."

"With the Queen?"

"No, I'm afraid not." He stepped forward, taking my hands in his, then bent down and kissed my cheek.

I studied my feet. Dare I look up? I met his eyes. I didn't look away.

He traced my jaw with his index finger. "Good-bye, Charlotte."

Unable to speak, I nodded. In a trance-like state, I watched him throw his cup away in the trash bin. He turned his back to me, paused at the door, then without a backwards glance left.

I ran to the window. He looked back at me making a silly face. The whooshing of traffic sounded like ocean waves. He smiled, then his expression intensified. I swallowed. It feels as if the entire world has stopped, allowing me this moment.

He stood there so long, I felt he had forgotten something. I went to the front door and opened it. He ran up to me, enveloping me in a hug. I couldn't hold it together. Tears flowed down my cheeks and I buried my face in the wool of his jacket. After a few moments, he released me, holding me at arm's length. His eyes were moist and he blinked several times, then he smiled—a smile that could make a battleship sink.

When he spoke his voice rasped, "Charlotte, I'd almost forgot. I have something for you."

I shivered, realizing how cold it was. He unlocked his car door and handed me a black jacket. "Here you look cold."

I took the jacket, looking at in confusion. Benedict looked back at me smiled, waved got into his car and left. The engine roared to life and in a second the car became a tiny speck. I inspected the jacket, then smiled. On the inside it read: Mr. Cumberbatch's Security jacket, The Great Game." I read the note pinned below it. Charlotte, wear this in good health. Sherlock and I both want you to have it.

I smiled, then slipped the jacket on, snuggling into its warm folds.