The Brat and the Bodyguard
Part Two
The party was noisy, boozy and full of press. Val squeezed through
the first room of people and deafening music and began to wish he'd
thought of somewhere better to go. From the minute he was spotted,
cameras began to flash- which usually he had no problem with- but
endless flashes in his face, being shoved and jostled and grabbed,
Val began to feel claustrophobic and distinctly nervous. Somewhere at
the back of the second reception room he found a familiar face, a
friend rather than an acquaintance.
"Michael! Thank God there's someone here I actually know-"
"Val!" Michael waved a glass at him expansively. "Come in! Sit down!"
There was nowhere to sit but the invitation was kindly meant. Val
huddled against the wall beside him.
"Who invited all the reporters?"
"What reporters?" Michael had another drink. From the slurr in his
voice, it was by no means his first. Val muttered under his breath
and had another look around. This time his eye was caught by a face
less familiar than infamous.
"Oh God, Mike-"
"What?"
Val nudged him sharply in the direction of the slightly weasel faced
man watching the youngsters around him with a sardonic smile.
"Ian Price."
"Who?"
"Don't you read the damn papers? I did an interview with him a month
back, he nearly crucified me! He's a BASTARD Mike! Free lance.."
Mike looked blankly at Price. Price gave him a little wave and smile.
Val grabbed Mike and searched through his pockets.
"Do you have a car here?"
"Yes- the BMW-"
"Then lets get out of here. Please Mike, just drop me somewhere-"
"Okay okay. Take it easy. Nobody died."
"Yet." Val pushed Mike ahead of him towards the back door.
Mr. Price saw Val leaving with Mike and decided to follow him. The
kid struck him as a story waiting to happen, and the party wasn't a
happening place without him.
"Here, give me the keys."
"No, Val, I'm driving. That's my car, ain't nobody driving but me."
"Mike, don't you think you've ha-"
"Too much to drink? Me? Nah, no way! I ca-"
"Come on then, let's GO!" Val said, hopping into the passenger seat.
He had seen that damned reporter follow them out the door. He was
ready to be on the road, away from him. He surely didn't need his
face splashed on the front page again and upset his father.
Mike turned the engine over and roared out of the parking lot,
spraying gravel in a five foot arc.
Luke was pacing on the street outside the house, watching drunk and
staggering teenagers being arrested. None of them were Val. Having
already searched the house, Luke was well aware Val was not present.
It was possible he'd decided on some safe and sane venture. Like
visiting a library. It was also possible that the next Pope would be
a penguin. The ringing of his cell phone only exacerbated his temper.
"YES?"
"Mr. Luke McNeil?"
"Speaking."
"This is the metropolitan police HQ. I'm ringing to verify the name
and address of a Mr. Daniel Valentine Quentin, son of Colonel Quentin,
577 New Bath Road, Kensington?"
"That's correct, where is he?"
The answer made him head at a dead run for his car. The road he was
headed for was barely two miles away. Luke was waiting impatiently at
traffic lights when the phone rang again. This voice was young and
scared and completely unfamiliar.
"McNeil?"
Luke tucked the phone into the crook of his shoulder and pulled away
from the lights.
"Yeah it's me kiddo, calm down. Are you hurt?"
"There's police everywhere and some sod of a reporter who won't leave
me alone and Michael's still in the car-" Val's voice was on the
point of breaking. Luke interrupted the flow before he reached open
panic.
"I'm two minutes away, stay with the police, don't talk to anyone.
Who is it?"
"Price."
"Him I can deal with. Stay out of his sight and don't give him any
ammunition, I won't be long."
The sight of the car made him wince. A young man was being cut out of
the wreckage by fire crew. Blue lights flashed in the darkness, a
ring of emergency vehicles around a crumpled sports car. Luke skirted
the crews and hunted rapidly through the maze of police cars.
He found Val sitting in the back seat of one of the police cars, his
feet on the ground, his head in his hands.
Val didn't look up at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Luke dropped down on one knee, eye level with Val. "Val, are you
alright?"
Val looked up at the sound of a familiar voice, even if it was the
voice of the gorilla. What he saw startled him a little. The gorilla
actually had a look of true concern on his face. "Yes, I'm....I'm
fine. But....but Michael, how is he?"
"They're taking good care of him."
"Get the doors opened, COMING THROUGH!" The ambulance worker yelled,
as they quickly wheeled Michael by on the gurney.
Val just about knocked Luke to the ground scrambling out of the
backseat of the car to check on his friend. He ran over to the
gurney, yelling at them to stop for a minute. Val looked down at at
his friend, the friend as white as the sheet he was lying on, bright
red blood in bright contrast to the whiteness of the sheet. But he
was awake.
"So sorry man. So sorry." Michael said quietly.
"It's okay, you'll be okay. Just work on getting better. I'll see you
soon." Val said as they quickly set Michael into the ambulance and
raced out of the parking lot.
Luke had walked up to Val and touched him on the shoulder. It was a
friendly touch, a kindly one, and Val responded without thinking,
buried his head into the strong arms that surrounded him, sobbing
into the comfort of the warm hug.
There was nothing of the kid. Luke held him and felt fragile bones, a
body slight and small against his, taut with shock and tension. He
gripped the boy automatically, finding his face against startlingly
soft, dark hair.
"Are you sure you're not hurt? Talk to me kid. Where were you when he
crashed?"
"Passenger side. I got out through the window." Val drew away and
folded his arms tight, trembling. "Oh God- McNeil, please lets get
out of here-"
"What?" Luke followed his glance and saw Ian Price, standing watching
them with a dry smile. Luke put a hand on Val's back and gave him a
gentle push towards the truck.
"Get in, put the heating on and wait for me. I'll deal with him."
"No one deals with him." Val said tightly. "I've read the articles-"
"Leave him to me." Luke repeated. "Truck."
Val glanced up at him, frowning, not at all used to taking orders.
Particularly not ones handed down in that tone without a please or
encouragement. Luke Looked at him. Something about the grey eyes made
Val turn and head for the truck, not taking any more time than
necessary to prove to McNeil that he was not in the least cowed.
He watched through the rear view mirror. McNeil wandered across to
Price, laid no hand on him, spoke quietly with his face relaxed.
After a few minutes, Price rapidly left the scene. Luke moved across
to speak with one of the police. To Val's amazement, a minute later
he saw Price's battered Fiesta drive away. Luke re entered the truck,
turned the ignition over and slammed the fan on full.
"I told you to put the heating on."
"What did you say to him!"
"I asked if Michael was alright. They said he was drunk with a few
broken ribs and a snapped wrist."
"I meant Price!"
"That's my business. And my job. Put a seatbelt on, Quentin."
"Are we leaving?"
"Yes, as soon as you get that belt on."
"But how did you get all that sorted out so fast? Are the police
coming to speak with me later?"
"Quentin. Enough with the questions. Seat belt. Now."
"Bu-"
"NOW."
Val looked at Luke, saw the resolve in the face and slowly buckled
up. He sunk back down against the door, unsure of himself and his
feelings. The heat was helping him to feel better, but he couldn't
admit that to Luke. Slowly he stopped shivering and within a few
minutes was sound asleep.
Luke looked over at Val, the small face covered by several strands of
wispy hair. Every few seconds the streetlights illuminated Val's face
making Luke think he was looking at an angel. The soft lips gently
parted, the long eyelashes almost throwing shadows on his cheeks, the
face unworried by anger or fear. It was amazing the monster that this
gorgeous kid could turn into when things didn't go his way. Luke knew
that the kid didn't do things to hurt people for his own amusement.
He was just overwhelmed most days with the responsibility of his star
status, trying to be a grown up adult playing grown up games, while
still trying to retain his rambunctious youth. Luke was going to have
to find a way that Quentin could enjoy his career, his life, without
the intense stress that was being force-fed to him from the record
company. To do that though, required at least some cooperation from
Val, and they had done nothing but butt heads since the first moment
of meeting. Now how to establish a balance of power, do his job, and
allow Quentin the room to grow that was needed.
The hotel was miles away and Val was deeply asleep by the time Luke
put the truck into the underground parking bay. Val stirred and co
operated with being manhandled to his feet, moving sleepily if safely
beside Luke through the foyer of the hotel. Once out of sight, Luke
hooked an arm around Val, stooped and picked him off his feet,
carrying him into the lift and nudging the door shut with his elbow.
It said a lot for the mixed effects of shock and fright that Val
barely noticed the transition or woke up. Luke put him down in the
middle of the huge and over-styled bed, eased his boots off and pulled
the quilt over him. Val's slight shape left room for a family of six
to share the divan. Luke drifted for a while, making coffee,
thinking, until he was too tired to think any more. He stood for a
long time, looking down at Val, not altogether happy about leaving
him. The crash had not been an easy one, there was no saying whether
the kid had any knocks he wasn't yet aware of. Eventually Luke lay
down on the far side of the bed, still fully dressed, and lay for
some time further, listening to Val's deep and steady breathing a
bare two feet away.
Luke had just dozed off when he was awakened by sounds of Val in
distress. He quickly scooted over to Val, who seemed to be in the
midst of a terrible nightmare, the sheets soaked in sweat, his small
body tossing and turning and crying out. Luke wrapped his arms around
Val and pulled him into a sitting position, hugging him close. Val
slowly awakened from his nightmare finding himself in a very
comforting hug.
Luke continued holding Val, paying close attention to the breathing,
knowing when Val had awakened, as well as when he fell back to sleep.
He pulled the small body to the other side of the bed, tucking him
back in tight, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He figured Val was
now down for the count, so he retired to his own bed, lost in thought.
The slam of a door woke him with a little more suddenness than he
quite liked. The alarm clock on his bedside table stood at seven AM.
Still dressed, Luke made it to the connecting doors. Last night's
fragile, vulnerable boy had vanished. The brat was back with a
vengeance. The room was in exactly the same mayhem it had been in
when left yesterday and Val was slamming items into a suitcase,
making no attempt to be discreet about his temper or the delicacy of
the hour. Luke incepted him by the simple means of closing the case
and sitting on it.
"Alright STOP that racket!"
Val glowered at him. "YOU can get out of my way!"
"I thought we had all this out last night."
"You're not under contract to me, MAX had no say in-"
"You've got a short memory, haven't you?"
Val had one try at pushing Luke off the suitcase. "Why don't you go
and fuck yourself, McNeil?"
Luke took a deep breath and wondered just how many mornings he was
going to have to spend re fighting the same ground. He took Val's
wrist firmly, pulled him across to the corner and turned him to face
the wall.
"And while I do that, why don't you stand there and cool down? Then
maybe we can talk about this like rational people."
Val spun on him, outraged. "If you think-"
Luke spun him right back around and swatted him, hard enough to
wither every curse and retort on Val's tongue. "You'll stand right
there until I say otherwise. Got me?"
"You are insane!" Val wailed at him, bewildered but not quite
confident enough to try walking away. "You can't carry on like this!"
"Watch me. Now BE QUIET!"
Val kicked hard at the wall.
"Do ANYTHING but stand facing that wall quietly, and I'll blister
that butt of yours. Don't test me." With that, Luke walked back into
his side of the hotel suite.
Val stood there, steam practically rising from his ears, but he knew
enough about Luke so far that he meant what he said.
Luke picked the paper up from outside the hotel room door and scanned
the headlines. The wreck was on the front of the local section, but
not one mention of Val being a passenger in the car. Luke breathed a
sigh of relief, folded the paper and dropped it on the table as the
phone rang.
"McNeil."
"Learning to answer the phone I see." Said Storm Quentin laughing a
little.
"I'm catching on."
"Val doing alright this morning?"
"He's recovered his normal sense of humor. No obvious signs of
injury, and no serious complaints yet."
"Put him on, will you?"
Luke took the phone into Val's bedroom and handed the phone to him.
"Your father." He also dropped the front page of the city section of
the paper on the bed and then left Val alone.
"Hello" Val said sullenly.
"Hey son. How are you feeling this morning?"
"Fine....why?"
"Mr. McNeil called me last night to tell me what had happen-"
"He did WHAT?" Val interrupted, ticked off that his father knew
everything.
"He called to tell me you're alright. Do you have any idea how lucky
you were that you weren't injured?"
"It was just a little accident, no big deal."
"No big deal? I saw the picture in the paper! Ho-"
"It's in the paper?!?" Val spotted the paper on the bed and quickly
grabbed it, trying to find his name shredded for headlines. He
scanned it, finding no mention of himself at all.
"It doesn't mention me." Val said in complete amazement.
"You owe a HUGE debt of gratitude to Mr. McNeil. He saved your name
from the headlines. He is exactly what you need, and will be staying
employed. I suggest you learn to like him. I'll call you later." With
that, Mr. Quentin hung up the phone.
Val clicked the button, ending the call. He stood there staring at
the paper, lost in thought. Luke HAD fixed things last night. He'd
been prompt. Efficient. More than reassuring. Val flushed a little,
thinking of the solid chest he'd buried himself in last night. The
man who'd brought him out of this with far less damage than Val had
really believed was possible. He drifted to the door of the adjoining
rooms. Luke was filling a suitcase with his clothes, neatly folded,
military precision. Val's stomach lurched in spite of himself.
"Lu- McNeil? Are you going somewhere?"
"Yes."
"Bu-"
"Next door. You're having this room until we move on, on the grounds
that it doesn't have access to a balcony." Luke shut the case and
snapped the locks. "So I suggest you get your room straightened up
before you move in here."
Outrage and relief struggled for possession of Val's voice. "You
can't just-"
"You have a real problem putting two and two together, don't you?"
Luke put the case on the floor and looked at his charge, hands on his
hips. "Are you going to straighten that room out?"
"The mai-"
"The maids clean the room. But they don't pick up after spoiled brats
who throw temper tantrums. You will be straightening up that room
before you leave to go anywhere today, is that clear?"
"Fuck you McNeil!" Val said, outraged again.
Luke grabbed Val by the arm and marched him over to the corner yet
again. "Language like that is unacceptable. You had better get that
through your head unless you like quiet corners."
"Lu-"
"Uh uh uh. No talking. Face to the corner, not a word to be said."
Val huffed in frustration, but kept his mouth shut. After about five
minutes of indignation, he calmed down and again thought about the
night before. Luke had done everything right. No police bothered him,
no press raped him. And waking up from the nightmare in the warm
comfort of the hug. He'd had nightmares off and on for the past six
months, and no one had been there for him like Luke had. Luke might
have his uses, maybe he'd stick it out. Now if he could just get him
trained....