john -- cause i'd rather pretend

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Ms Fairmont looked as though she was in pain. It would have been easy to write this off as stemming from the burn in her hand, but somehow Jack didn’t think that was quite it. Maybe he wasn’t so in touch with his soft side as he should be, but he was smart enough to know the difference between physical and non-physical pain. And the look on her face… wasn’t physical. Should he ask? The eternal question. To pry or not to pry? He really felt he shouldn’t. They’d already had this conversation once this morning alone. He had asked how she was and she had said she was fine and that was that, and it would be too intrusive to ask again. It wasn’t his place. And did he really want to know? Really? Did he want to get involved in her internal dramas? He didn’t think so. She had her skeletons. He had his. She never asked him questions, she never tried to pry into his personal business, so didn’t he owe her the same courtesy? The fact was Jack knew very, very little about the girl in front of him, and she knew next to nothing about him. And it would be better for both of them if it stayed that way.

But then another dilemma. Just because Jack knew he shouldn’t ask again if she was all right, should he report it to someone? Call her parents and say “your daughter is in pain, do you want to do anything about this?” He had no idea what they might reply. He’d met with her father more than enough times, in interview after interview to make sure that he was right for the position. It was clear that Mr Fairmont wouldn’t have just anybody around his daughter. It was clear that he loved her very much. But what would his response be if Jack were to contact him about his daughter’s emotional, rather than physical, well being? Would he tell Jack that it wasn’t his jurisdiction? If he did, he’d be right. He’d be right, because it wasn’t, because this wasn’t what he was being paid to do. Jack shook his head very slightly, attempting to clear it. Of course it wasn’t. It was probably just the lack of any physical activity. It was the lack of things that actually were in his job description. He was looking for more duties, probably. Looking for something else to occupy his time, thinking it could be Ms Fairmont’s inner turmoil, when no… he didn’t need any other duty. It wasn’t his business, and he was being intrusive by even thinking he ought to do something. It was nothing to do with him at all, really.

“Th-thanks Jack. I uh… I know umm nursing m-me isn’t really p-part of y-your job description.” She mumbled. She was so quiet and the words ran into each other, so it took him a moment to decipher what she was saying, but he got it after a second or two. “You’re very welcome, Ms Fairmont.” He replied, but made no comment on what was or wasn’t part of his job description. He was having enough trouble defining it for himself. “I-I… I’m sorry f-for causing s-so much trouble.” She added, and Jack immediately shook his head. “You’re not any trouble. You are the least trouble I’ve ever had to put up with.” He paused, then added (just in case she thought a lack of excitement might be a bad thing for him), “A change of pace is nice from time to time.” This was both true and untrue. Jack did occasionally thirst for some kind of action. He did sometimes wonder why he was here at all, with all his years of experience and proficiency in high risk situations squandered on someone who didn’t even know what risk was. But then… it was nice. It was like a break. A holiday - God knows he hadn’t one of those in years. Here, in LA, with Ms Fairmont, nobody tried to kill him. That was nice. He hadn’t once been shot at. He’d had annoying clients who’d tried deliberately to wind him up, or annoying clients who didn’t try but still wound him up, and she wasn’t one of those. She was really quite inoffensive. Also he was the sole bodyguard here, so there were no clashes with other security, which was good, too. All in all - though he complained bitterly in his own head often enough - he had a pretty good job right now. He wouldn’t want her to think he didn’t appreciate that fact.

“N-n-neither. I uh… I’m o-okay. J-just p-polysporin is um f-fine.” She said quickly, eyes huge with fear. Jack frowned very slightly at her response, not entirely sure what to make of it. Did she have some reason to be wary of hospitals, just as he did? Or was this some other kind of neuroses? Hard to tell. She was just a jumble of neuroses, Arianna Fairmont. He finished bandaging her hand, then shrugged a little. “All right, but if you’re in a lot of pain, you must let me know.” If she was in too much pain, that would be in his job description. It was her physical wellbeing he was concerned with, and at the moment he was concerned. What if the burn got infected? What if it needed further treatment, and she hadn’t received it? Would that come down on Jack’s head? He doubted Mr Fairmont would be pleased if Jack had let his precious daughter walk around with a festering wound… He stopped himself before he could get carried away. Festering wound? It was just a little burn. She’d be fine, and he had no reason to build it up in his head as anything worse than it was. He half-turned away from her, relieved to get a little bit of distance between them, and started packing all the medical equipment back into the first aid box. He was bloody glad to be able to put the cap back on the polysporin, to seal that god awful smell away.

[ruby1]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400px, true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent;] [/style] john holden , 1093 words , outfit here , blah it sucks ): [/style][/style]

[STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing:; font-size: 11px; padding-bottom: -10px; text-align:center;]why don't you be the artist and make me out of clay

[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,height: 50px;] when it came to people in arianna's life, there were really only two kinds. the first kind of people were those that stayed in the fairmont family's life for a long time and have become close to the entire family. those people were the kind that could almost be family. they took care of the fairmont's well being because they truly cared. there were only two people that belonged in that category- her father's bodyguard and the in-house nanny. the second kind of people were those who only cared about one thing and one thing only- the money. they were the people who played nice, made jokes that weren't really funny but you laughed at anyway, and sucked up to you like no tomorrow. they were the kind that only did what was necessary to meet the minimum requirements. they were the people that did what they did because it was part of the job description. the second kind of people were the rest of the people that ari actually knew. there have been many people who just pretended to be friends with her just because they wanted their own fifteen minutes of fame or that they would get some luxurious and grand christmas present the coming year. there have been people who, literally, refused to do certain things because it was not written down on the contract under 'job descriptions'. but when it came to jack, she wasn't particularly sure where to place him. he definitely wasn't the first kind of people she knew because she was sure he didn't give a care about her emotional well being. but could she really categorize him as the second kind? he fit a lot of the descriptions, but at the same time, he didn't seem like the type who would use her for his own fifteen minutes or be all literal about what was or wasn't actually on his contract. and if he was the second type of person, he wouldn't have actually gone through the trouble to bandage her hand, would he? maybe jack was in his own category. he was unknown. unknown because she actually knew nothing about him. her father only gave her the basic information, but other than that, there was actually nothing else that she knew. she supposed she could properly categorize him after she's known him a little longer. because right now, arianna wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. she didn't want to think that he was just another person in her life who only did things for her because they were paid to do so and not because they care about her. she used to wish on her birthday candles that she would make a friend who didn't treat her like an assignment or client or that friend who's really really rich. and for a long time, she had thought that those wishes came true when dave, her ex, had come into her life. how she regretted those wishes now. it was stupid and childish. and worst of all, she was sure that if her father had paid dave to come grovelling back at her feet right now, he would immediately drop to his knees and lick her boots if she asked him to. she shook her head, silently chastising herself for thinking about him again. she really needed to stop. she gave jack a small, unsure grin, "that's umm good... i think." she bit down on her lip, her mind replaying the last few words of his original response. "put up with." were the words he had said and it rang like an echo in her head. was that what he was doing? he was simply putting up with her? she supposed that was what everyone around her did. it was what they were paid to do. she guessed that made sense. still, she didn't know why it bothered her so much. it just did. it made her stomach clench tightly and her heart constrict, just for a second or two. after a moment's pause from her first response, she nodded at him, as if it was a second thought, "yes." she agreed softly. "change c-can be very nice." she, of all people, could understand that concept. why else would she be here, pretty much alone with no friends or family that she knew? she wanted change. but maybe it was all just one big bad idea. she missed her family. and while she didn't particularly miss her superficial, materialistic mother, she did miss her presence in her life. she especially missed her father. it sucked not having him around. not that he was particularly all that present back in vancouver either, but at least she still saw him every once in a while. back when she was still in vancouver, he would only be gone for a few weeks, and then she would be safely in his arms again, protected by the kind of love only a father could give. but now.... well it's been months since she's last seen him. she still talked to him on the phone on a daily basis, but it wasn't the same as seeing the person face to face. and maybe if she were to stay in vancouver and see that dave wasn't remorseful over the cheating and have the new girl hanging off her arms, she'll finally wake up. maybe it'll hurt so bad that she'll have to force herself to move on because a girl could only take on so much pain right? if she kept hurting and hurting, the pain would have to eventually run dry. at least, that was her logic. but maybe that was all a little masochistic of her. she was pushed out of her thoughts when jack finished bandaging her hand and spoke once more. she nodded, half tempted to salute him from the tone he was using on her, but resisted the urge, "u-uhm o-okay. i-i will." she mumbled shyly, eyes locked on her bandaged hand, but she took a split second just to look at jack, "and umm th-thanks a-again for umm y-you know... bandaging m-my h-hand." she added before biting down on her lip again. she glanced at the probably now cold toast in the toaster and the stove that was still on, "i uh... i guess i'll just umm... c-continue uh.... making breakfast." she said even though she wasn't quite sure how she would do it. her dominant hand was currently in a bandage, but she supposed she could make do with her left hand. [STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing:; font-size: 11px; padding-bottom: -10px; text-align: center;]why don't you be the writer and decide the words i say [/style]