Chapter Text
"Get down!"
"I would love to go down--"
Alex roughly shoved Michael to the floor behind the couch just as bullets began to tear through the wall. He wasn't counting on Michael pulling him down with him.
"Guerin, I can't return fire from the floor!" he hissed.
"You also can't return fire if you're full of holes," he said, far too reasonably.
"I'm wearing body armor," Alex replied, exasperated. The shots slowed in frequency and finally stopped. Alex peeked over the back of the couch. "And apparently we should get you some too."
"I could get some--"
Alex groaned as Michael tried to rise beside him. He pushed him back down. "Please stop flirting while I'm trying to protect you."
"So I can flirt while you're not trying to protect me?"
"This is literally a full-time job, Guerin, I'm never not trying to protect you," he said grimly. "Will you please stay down until I tell you it's clear?"
Michael sighed loudly but planted himself on the floor, just in time for the door to get busted open.
Alex held a finger to his lips, and Michael rolled his eyes. He counted the treads. Only two people.
"This guy had a bodyguard?" one of the intruders mused. They were already across the room.
"Where are they? Did we get them?"
"Hey, look, a laptop. The client said take any notes and electronics, too, right?"
"Right."
Alex grimaced. Amateurs. With their attention on the laptop, he rose from their hiding spot, handgun up. "Actually, that's mine."
He shot the one who immediately attempted to draw a weapon in the arm, and the other raised his hands. "Jesus fuck!"
"Wow, rude," Michael said.
Alex kicked at him as gently as he could with a metal leg, but they both ran out in his distraction, the injured one leaning heavily on the other. He glared down at Michael.
"What, I didn't get up!"
"They know they didn't kill you! They'll be back or send someone else. Get your stuff, we have to leave now." Alex checked around the broken-down door; the hallway was clear for the time being. He flipped the safety on and tucked his piece away. "Hurry. What do you need?"
"Everything," Michael said, throwing things into his suitcase haphazardly. "Y'know, I don't understand. None of the threats said anything about wanting my work."
Alex thought back to the letters; he was right. "They didn't explicitly say it was because you're royalty, either."
"True. Thought it was kinda weird if it was that, being the youngest and whatever." He began to wrap test tubes in his dirty laundry in an attempt to consolidate. "Hell, if they weren't addressed to me, they could've been about anyone. This makes way more sense."
"Yeah, great, someone is willing to kill you to get your science, how much longer will this take?"
"Almost done, can you grab my conditioner?"
Alex was already walking into the bathroom. "Seriously?"
"Please?"
He returned with the fancy bottle, and Michael smiled, stuffed it into a corner and zipped the case up. "Thank you."
Last thing, Alex checked the video feed that had alerted him to their presence in the first place. Still clear. He shut it and put it in his bag which he then put over his head and across his chest. He touched the nine-stripe rainbow pin on the strap and took a deep breath. "Stay behind me."
"Gladly. Um, you don't suppose--"
"What?" Alex asked as he led them down the hall, his handgun out again. He reached up for the camera he'd hidden as they passed it and stuffed it down a side pocket.
"If it's about the science, did Liz get any similar threats?"
"Not aside from the usual 'you'll burn in hell for murdering fetuses' type bull. Besides, you know your brother keeps five guards around her at all times. She's safe."
"Right. Okay, good. Yeah." They stepped outside, and Alex quickly scanned the area as he grabbed his other camera. Their attackers had fled, it appeared. He kept his gun out but down until they got to the car. "Wait. Are you saying I'm easy?"
"Are you saying you aren't?" Alex retorted. He could almost hear Michael's responding grin. He unlocked the doors rather than look at him and get distracted by his face. "Go on, get all that in."
His suitcase went in the backseat, and Michael went in the passenger seat as Alex kept watching the lot. He dropped his gun in a cup holder and handed his bag to Michael. He was glad they'd left most of their stuff in the car.
So as not to draw attention, he drove slightly above the speed limit, just like everyone else on the road.
"We need an actual safehouse instead of the first motel you get hungry near."
"I don't wanna go into hiding." Michael had a hell of a pout, and he could hear it, but Alex still refused to look directly at him.
"I know you don't, Guerin. But you also don't want to be dead, so, safehouse it is."
Michael huffed. "I guess if it means we get shot at less, fine."
"Glad I have your approval to move you somewhere safer."
"Let a guy pretend he has a choice in the matter," he replied. "I didn't even want to leave the castle."
Alex had gone over why they had to; to minimize the danger anyone else was in. "Do you let Isobel hear you call it that?" he wondered instead.
"Yes. She hates it. Are we going to the safehouse now?"
He shook his head. "We're getting away. Only Cam knows where all the safehouses are. Here," he said, passing him his cell, "Call her and ask her to check out the motel to pick up the blood and casings, and have her send me the directions to the safehouse."
"Okay."
Alex kept his eyes on the road and took a meandering route around the city in case of tails. To his relief, they weren't being followed.
"Hey, Cam! Guess who just got shot at?"
There was a pause in which Alex rolled his eyes.
"Yes, we're fine. Alex threw me on the floor. Totally hot, if not for all the bullets. They wanted my notes and stuff. There were two guys, Alex shot one of them. He's driving now. Hey, Cam wants to know where you hit him?"
"Right forearm," he said, and Michael repeated that into the speaker.
"Uh huh. Yeah. What, no, do you have to tell them? They'll worry. You could just say we didn't like the motel. Cam, they'll freak out, don't--"
"We need the safehouse directions, Guerin," Alex interrupted. He could only drive aimlessly for so long, and he knew Cam had to tell Max and Isobel what had happened so trying to convince her not to was pointless.
"Right, yeah, can you point us to a safehouse? Okay. Yeah. But can you at least not tell Iz? Please? Okay. Yes. Okay. Bye."
Alex pulled into the parking lot of the next fast food restaurant he saw. Michael returned his phone and dug out his wallet at the sight.
"How did you know I was hungry? Do you want anything?"
Alex blinked at him and waved his cell. "You're not going in. I just stopped here to read the directions."
"But I'm hungry."
He frowned down at the long message from Cam. "You're not getting out of the car unless it's safe."
"Steak n Shake is very safe!"
Alex shot him a withering look before he scrolled through the directions again.
"Alright, alright. What about the drive-thru? Then we don't have to get out of the car."
"Okay." Alex put his phone down.
"But I'm-- Okay?"
"Yeah. Put this in the glove box." He handed Michael his gun, and he did as he said. "The safehouse is in the middle of nowhere, so this might be the last fast food we get until the threat is dealt with."
"That could be ages," Michael said.
"I don't think it'll take that long."
For a moment, Michael only frowned. "You're going, too? You're staying with me?"
"That's what you hired me for, Guerin."
"That's what Max hired you for. If you don't want to be stuck with me for who knows how long, there are other guards--"
"Yesterday you seemed pretty happy to have me all to yourself," Alex said mildly.
"Well, yeah, but that was before I had to go into actual hiding. I understand if you don't want to be stuck with me. Alone. For an indeterminate amount of time."
Alex snorted and put the car in drive to roll up to the menu. "If I didn't think I could handle being stuck with you, I would have quit months ago. What do you want to eat?"
They ordered several meals between them, and Alex parked again so that he wouldn't be distracted by eating as he drove to the safehouse. He absently dunked his fries in his chocolate milkshake, lost in thought about the two who had tried to kill them earlier. He was coming to the conclusion that they... sucked. They were incompetent as hell.
"Is that good?" Michael asked, staring at his hand.
"What?" Alex glanced at him and followed his gaze. "Oh. Yeah, way better. Do you think I'd be doing it if it wasn't?"
"I don't know, Alex, you're an enigma. Can I try?"
He shrugged a shoulder at him in confirmation. "Go ahead. You think I'm an enigma?"
"Yes! Okay, so, for instance..." Michael daintily dipped a fry in Alex's shake. "You're gay."
One of his eyebrows jumped up automatically, which was a vast improvement on his prior full-body flinch at the slightest implication of non-straight sexualities. Hanging out with Mr. Bisexual Pride had that effect. "Yeah, and? You've known that since the Pride festival."
Michael chewed the fry thoughtfully. "Sure, but what's your type? Obviously not science nerds. That is good."
Alex squinted at him as he decisively dunked an additional fry. Michael was definitely his type. He was just also, technically, his boss. Well, Cam was his boss, but whatever Michael was, it didn't feel appropriate. Alex went with, "I don't have a type."
"See, that's mysterious as hell. You could be into any guy. Then what would I do?"
"Probably get yourself into trouble that I'd have to get you out of."
Michael inclined his chin. "Fair enough."
Alex gave him a small smile as he wiped his hands on his pants. "Ready to go?"
He groaned. "Ready to disappear when you are."
"Hey, I'm sure it won't be long," Alex reassured him as they headed down the highway out of the city. "Those guys this morning didn't even clear the room before they came in without their weapons. They seriously underestimated us, and they're bound to have made more mistakes. Cam will find them, find their client, then you can go home. Okay?"
Michael sank into his seat with a sigh. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Alex."
"Sure. No problem."
He fiddled with his phone for a moment. "You're my favorite bodyguard. Don't tell the others."
"You don't have any others."
"You got me there."
Alex tapped on the radio. "Would you put your music on? It's a hell of a drive."
"You mean from my glorified mp3 player?"
Alex had stripped Michael's phone down to its storage -- no WiFi, no data, no SIM; frankly Michael felt lucky he hadn't had to leave it behind entirely. He was sure Alex was going to chuck it out a window before they left.
He plugged in the aux cable and scrolled through his extensive list of stolen music.
"What do you want to listen to? Anything more specific than 'not country'?"
Maybe Alex was more of an enigma to him than he thought. That was his usual request. "You got Panic! At The Disco?"
Nine in the Afternoon shortly bleated out the car speakers. "Did you-- Did you pause for the exclamation point?"
He took his eyes off the road for a moment, only to be met with absolute glee on Michael's face. "Yeah, 'cause there is one."
"I wish I could text Isobel right now. You're a secret emo!"
He sniffed importantly. "I'm alternative punk, thank you."
"Sure, and you, what, know every single word of their discography?"
"What makes you think that?"
"You're singing along."
"I'm talking to you."
"You're literally mouthing the words."
Alex clenched his jaw shut both to stop himself singing and prevent the smile that threatened to crack his face.
"Aw, come on," Michael said, then began to exuberantly croon along. "It's nine in the afternoon! Your eyes are the size of the moon! You could 'cause you can so you do! 'Cause it's nine in the afternoon!"
He had to laugh. "That's amazing."
"I know. I'm terrible. Thank you."
"Yeah, that's what's so amazing."
"Oh, I'd like to hear you do better."
"You would," Alex replied with a smirk. "Too bad I don't sing on the job."
"Why not?"
"It's unprofessional."
"It isn't for professional singers."
"I'm your bodyguard, Guerin, not a professional singer."
"I could add 'sing when applicable' to your job description."
"You could, sure, if you had a way to convince Cam to do it."
Michael grumbled under his breath for a moment. "Hey, but thank you for letting me keep this. My music, and my photos. Solitaire."
"Of course. And it's not forever," Alex reminded him. "Plus, my phone has better encryption than ninety-nine percent of the American government, so you can still call your siblings occasionally."
"Fancy." Michael touched his shoulder lightly. "Seriously, thank you."
Alex kept his focus on the road, only giving Michael's hand a gentle pat. "I'm just doing my job. Your phone is harmless."
Michael settled back into his seat. "Right. So, about how long is this hella drive?"
"Couple hours, I think."
"Ugh. So you like PATD, then let me guess..." Another song started. "Don't. Panic!"
Alex couldn't stop himself. "No not yet! I know I'm the one you wanna forget, yeah."
"I knew it. The secret emo likes Fall Out Boy."
"Punk," he corrected again.
"You like All-American Rejects? They're kinda punk."
"Yeah."
"My Chemical Romance?"
"Obviously."
"No, not obvious, they're emo."
Alex rolled his eyes, and they spent the drive discussing punk versus emo, and eventually goth was brought up, and Michael started playing an industrial goth song, and Alex subsequently demanded Ludo or he'd pull over and disconnect the radio, at which point Michael asked about scene and made Alex scoff; he explained that scene was far more colorful than he ever was or ever would be.
"Besides, it's not just the style," Alex was saying. "It's the mindset. Emo is defeatist, in my opinion. Punk is political and anti-authoritarian."
"Riiight. Did you ever wear make-up?"
Alex waited too long to answer. "No."
"Emo. That's full emo."
"It's-- It's gender nonconformity, it's punk."
"Why'd you stop wearing it? I bet you looked hot."
"I did," he allowed. "But I went into the Air Force during Don't Ask Don't Tell."
"Oh my god," Michael said, and Alex glanced at him, perplexed by his stare. "I can't even imagine you with a buzz cut."
"Good. Don't. Not my best look."
"Maybe not, but don't even try to tell me you didn't rock camo." Before Alex could answer, Michael pointed out a building ahead on their right. "Oh, is that it?"
"Yup." He turned right onto the dirt driveway.