|Someone wrote in cabinpres_fic,|
((I don't know where this came from. I haven't slept in 24 hours and I really need a nap. Please enjoy. :]))
"I could protect you."
"Who says I need protection?"
Herc gazes thoughtfully at Prisoner 55894163, who was once known as "Douglas Richardson". The other man has gray hair and round, brown eyes, and a devious, witty smirk.
"You're new," Herc says, adjusting the baton on his belt. "New meat is easy picking."
"So now you think I'm easy?" The prisoner--Douglas, Herc reminds himself, letting the name roll in the divots of his mind--asks. He leans back, crosses his arms behind his head and crosses his feet in front of him. "I'm flattered that you think I'm a spring chicken looking for someone to hide under. I must inform you that despite my youthful and exuberant energy, I am a man far too old to be in jail and far too experienced to need help from a prison guard." Douglas's smirk disappears and Herc thinks for a moment that he's being serious. "Besides, wouldn't being your 'wife' make me look like I'm sucking up to the big boys. A coward. A snitch." Douglas pauses and his eyes roam up and down Herc's muscular figure. He almost sounds disappointed when he adds, "Being with you would cause me more trouble than being alone."
Herc grips the bars of Douglas's cell. For some reason, he refuses to let that be Douglas's final answer. "What if I was your wife?"
Douglas's eyebrows rise and Herc can see more than interest in his eyes.