Alex and the Enforcers: Prologue

"No!" I shouted as I was dragged away from the man I loved, the explosion from moments ago still thundering in my ears.
Just before he was out of my line of sight, I saw him mouth-

The scene of my nightmare dispersed and I was left sitting in my bed, my chest heaving and a scream lodged in my throat. The only reason it didn't come out was because of his arms wrapped around me, squeezing me against him in an attempt to calm me down.
And then the crying started.

It has become almost routine during most nights. I had nightmares about Alex's near-death and it always changed at the end. Instead of being dragged away after I heard those three words he whispered to me, I would see Snake shaking his head as if he'd given up or, in the most recent case, Alex mouthing something else to me. But I never got to see where the pain ended because he always woke me up before then. It was something I was grateful for, in a way. Not being able to see what would have happened comforted me in a way. I didn't want to see it.

I knew it was bothering him, not knowing what was going through my head. The first time it had happened, he had bugged me for days to talk to him until I finally just ignored him completely. He gave up after that

A couple of minutes later, I sniffled and tried to stop the crying.
"Sorry," I apologized weakly, like every other time this had happened.
He sighed. "It's fine, Cal. But I can't help but think you have PTSD. And if that's the case, you need to talk to somebody. Even I talked to Fox!"
I looked up from where I was laying on his chest. I still remembered the day it had been on display the first time, his bullet scar visible. I had seen it again, of course, but it still amazed me at how lucky he truly was. "The luck of the devil," he always said jokingly.
I sniffled again. "You had PTSD?" It should have occurred to me, knowing his history.
He nodded. "I had a lot by the time I came to live in America. That's part of the reason I went back to England."
I frowned. "I thought it was because you couldn't handle civilian life."
He kissed the top of my head. "That was part of the reason. But the PTSD was killing me. Nightmares, paranoia; it was horrible. They knew it too. Wouldn't let me into the field unless I told someone."
"So you told Fox?"
Fox was one of Alex's most trusted allies. He was currently in the SAS, like we both were a year ago, and he had talked to Alex a couple of times, but I knew they missed talking face-to-face.
He nodded. "Yup, and then we became partners in crime."
I laughed and we fell into a comfortable silence.

"Can you tell me a story about you and your uncle?"
His stories with Ian Rider always were the best; all the happy memories I could practically imagine him living.
He moved a bit so his head was against his pillow as opposed to the headboard and pulled me to him so my head was resting against his chest.
"Me and Uncle Ian were in France for the week. I had been learning the language, so we decided to test out how much I knew."
As he went on, I slowly fell asleep listening to the story of a disgruntled French woman.

By the time the clock went off, I had managed to catch four more hours of sleep. I got up slowly, trying not to disturb Alex. As much as he denied, I knew he woke up as soon as the alarm clock went off and tried to go back to sleep the moment I got into the bathroom.

After I was done in the shower I put on the clothes I brought with me and then went downstairs to start breakfast.

As I put the eggs on a plate, a pair of arms snaked around my waist. He stepped forward, bringing his chest to rest against my back and kissed my shoulder, then nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck.
"Is there bacon?" His warm breath on my neck caused a shudder to go down my spine, and I hoped he hadn't noticed.
I swallowed. "Uh-huh."
"Mmm," was the only response I got.
The timer near the oven went off and I tried to pry his hands off of my waist.
"Alex, I need to get the muffins." I said as I realized he wouldn't let go.
"I'll come with you, then." He began shuffling towards the oven as I tried to hold in my laughter.

I shook my head lightly, then opened the oven and bent down to retrieve the muffin pan with my mitten-clad hands.
He let go of me as soon as I bent down and I laughed at him as I brought the muffin pan to cool on the top of the oven.
"You didn't think that through, did you?" I asked, turning to face him once the mittens were next to the muffin pan.
He pouted and opened his arms.
Still laughing lightly, I walked into his arms.

Then the phone rang.

Sighing, I stepped out of his arms and he reluctantly let me go.
I walked over to the kitchen phone and pressed the talk button.
"Callie? Oh, it's so horrible! He blames us!"
I frown. "Aunt Tulip?"
"He blames us!" she cries again, hysterical.
"Wait! Calm down. Who blames you?"
She sniffled. "The President."
I nodded, trying to hide my surprise. "Okay. And for what?"
"The bomb!" she shrieked. "Don't you know?"
My eyes widened. "No. Uh, where is it?"
"I can't tell you through the phone." So now she decides to be reasonable. "Can you come to England?"
I look over to Alex, who was walking towards me, a frown etched onto his face.
I knew he wouldn't like it, but Aunt Tulip was family and she was hysterical about some sort of bomb.
I sighed. "I'll be there tomorrow."
"Thank you so much, Callie!" she gushes, her tears forgotten. "I'll see you soon. Goodbye!"
Before I can reply, the line goes dead.
I sighed again, placing the phone back on the receiver and turning around to face Alex who had come up behind me.
"Looks like we'll be making a visit to Royal & General." I say, wincing a little.

This wouldn't go down well.

So, this is a little on the short side, I know. But I am working on chapter one and that is way more interesting so don't worry about it too much. Also, don't worry about the "domestic" Cal. She gets more "kicking butt and taking names" as they get to England. =)

I hope you guys are enjoying this so far!

~Mrs. Frank Hardy