CR:TFM ~ Chapter 1

Mika's Note: I had originally called this 'Hat Hair' for obvious reasons.  A little bad language, some covert flirting.

 

“Aw, crap!” He muttered, looking in the mirror. “Why me? Why do I end up with the frizzy hair? Huh?” Disgusted, he turned from the mirror and grabbed his hat. “One benefit to being a hick, they always expect you to be wearing a hat at least.”

“Quit your whining, Blake!” came a voice from the corner. “I swear, you’d think you were a woman!”

Blake spun around to face his current girlfriend lounging in the dressing room’s only chair. “For crying out loud, Leslie! I have to look good when I go out there,” he waved vaguely in the direction of the stage. “Or, at least, better than this.”

The petite blonde rolled her eyes and glared at him. “You look fine. Now stop it!”

He watched her for a moment; she sat in the chair, one leg slung over the chair arm, the other on the floor. It wasn’t her he was angry with, at least not completely. Her clingy, possessive attitude was beginning to get on his nerves, but it wasn’t what was on his mind right now. No, he had other things more pressing weighing on his mind. Things this twenty-something girl had no idea about.

“It’s time. If you’re gonna be backstage, you need to come with me now. If not, you’re stuck back here until the show is over.” He flung open the dressing room door and started the long walk to the stage.

Sighing, Leslie dragged herself out of the chair and followed behind him. She didn’t have a chance of catching up to his long stride and she didn’t bother to try. She’d get there when she got there.

Halfway to the stage, Blake was joined by his band. Grabbing his guitar from a nearby roadie, he stepped onto stage and into the lights.

~*~

“Ahh, good show, huh?” Blake asked, tossing his sweat-soaked hat onto the couch. Running his hands through his already disheveled hair, he looked at Leslie. “Sorry for snapping at you earlier. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She shrugged and pretended like it didn’t mean anything. “Its fine,” she lied. They both turned at the loud knock on the door.

Blake looked around frantically for a brush or something but the door opened before he had a chance. “Come in, I guess,” he muttered at the blonde head sticking in the dressing room doorway.

“Mr. Matson? I’m Caleb Lockhart. I was sent by your uh, management company. May we come in?”

Blake looked at the man for a moment, thinking, “Aren’t you already halfway in?” Biting his tongue, he said aloud, “Sure, of course. Excuse the mess I’m in.” He self-consciously rubbed his head full of hat-hair.

Behind the blonde came another male, darker, with a frown on his face and a black eye. Following him was a brunette with bright blue eyes and a body you wouldn’t expect on a soldier. Watching her made Blake even more self-conscious of his unruly mess of hair and sweaty body.

Caleb introduced each as they entered. “This is Commander Bryan Tracey,” he nodded to the dark-haired man with the black eye. “He’s second in command on this situation.” Bryan stuck his hand out and shook with Blake. “And this is our covert specialist, Lieutenant Allyson Hart.”

“Ali, please. No one but my father ever calls me Allyson.” She grinned and added, “Unless I’m in trouble, that is.”

Blake nodded at them both, just a bit speechless. Leslie sat in her place in the chair, staring bewilderedly at the scene before her. As if feeling her eyes boring into the back of his head, he came back into reality and introduced her to the party. “She’s my girlfriend and I would like to be sure she’s safe as well.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Matson,” Caleb comforted. “If she’s with you, it’s likely she’s in danger as well.”

~*~

“So you’re saying you’re being stalked?” Leslie almost screamed. “Why the HELL didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was rapidly approaching the hysterical point.

“Honey, please.”

“No! Oh, no, don’t even start!” she screeched. “You are so not getting out of this that easily!”

“Ms. Morgan, please calm down.” Ali began. “Men do strange things sometimes when it comes to the women in their lives. Things that often only make sense to them.” Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. How’d he put up with the little chit? Outwardly, she encompassed the two men beside her with a wave. “Ask me how I know.”

Leslie nodded absently, thinking. She looked at Blake who was still trying unsuccessfully to smooth his wayward mane. “Oh all right. I still don’t like that you didn’t tell me. I have a right to know these things.” She pouted momentarily, and then added, “Especially if I coulda gotten killed with you!”

“Yeah, you do. Sorry.” Blake looked around with a real deer-in-the-headlights look. “So, it’s settled, then?”

Caleb nodded. “Yeah. Lt. Hart has been assigned to keep you out of harm’s way. Do you have any questions?”

Blake shook his head, too confused to think much.

“I do,” Leslie piped up, her anger momentarily forgotten. “How’d he get a black eye?”

Everyone looked at Bryan. Bryan looked at Ali, who was conveniently studying the door hinges. Blake could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on her face.

“It’s a long story,” was all he said.

~*~

“So, you think you can handle watching this one?” Caleb asked Ali outside the dressing room.

“It’ll be a hardship, I’m sure, but I’ll manage somehow,” she replied, trying to hide the grin creeping onto her face. I could watch THAT body for a long, long time.

“I’m not sure I like this idea anymore,” Bryan whined. “Remind me again, why are we playing body guard to a bunch of hick singers?”

“Because intelligence says that his stalker is more than just a crazed fan trying to get attention.” Caleb turned to Ali. “I think you need to let them know what to expect, and find out their schedule so that we’re all on the same page.”

“Yes sir,” she replied, saluting.

“We’ll see you back at base. Be GOOD.”

“Would I ever be anything else?” she grinned.

“That’s what we’re afraid of,” Bryan groaned.

~*~

“Mr. Matson? May I come in?”

“Yup.”

“Thanks,” she came through the door and shut it tightly. “I’m the one you get stuck with, as you know. I’ll be traveling with you for a while, with my three partners. My commander will need to know your schedule so we can coordinate.”

“Okay. I’ll get my manager to get the info to him.”

“Thanks. Where’s Ms. Morgan?”

“In the bathroom and no more of this mister and missus stuff, it’s driving me crazy. I’m just a country boy who got a bit lucky. Not somethin’ special.” He was back to nervously smoothing his hapless curls.

Ali nodded in acknowledgement of his modesty. “Sure, as long as she doesn’t object.”

“She won’t. Lee thinks its weird being called ‘Ms’ and ‘Miss’ all the time. She still hasn’t gotten used to it yet, I think.”

Ali understood that all too well. Having been promoted at a young age, being called ‘sir’ by soldiers older than her took some getting used to. “You’re going to go bald if you don’t stop rubbing your head like that.”

He grimaced and pulled his hand away. “Sorry. My hair’s a mess. Couldn’t get to a brush or my hat before ya’ll came in.”

“Sorry. Caleb’s never quite learned how to wait for an answer. Just be lucky he was the one leading the parade. Bryan’s never learned how to knock.” She looked up into his blue eyes and thought how nice it’d be to get lost in them. Leaning in closer to him, she whispered, “Besides, I think you wear the ‘rumpled’ look rather well. It gives you this sexy, ‘I-just-got-out-of-bed-and-haven’t-been-sleeping’ look.” She grinned while he blushed bright red.

Ali thought she’d just embarrassed him; she was good at that, she’d had lots of practice. Blake knew better: he was wondering if she was as willing as he was at that instant to find out if it were true.