jamesvbeircheart:
( &&. @bunnyxgolightly )
None of this was supposed to happen. He had gone over the plans with Howard dozens of times; security was tight. People were meant to be checked at the door–each and every time they left the main party room. No one was meant to get in or out of Bunny’s birthday gala without being determined innocent enough for the party in the first place. Still, James had hovered over her shoulder for the entire evening, more a shadow than a date as he scanned for any visible threats to her safety. She was his to swear his life by and protect, and though those words had taken on a different meaning to him in the last year, James still swore he wouldn’t let Howard down. Wouldn’t let Bunny down.
She had been in the middle of unwrapping the gifts guests had left for her, glitter-and-shiny wrapping paper strewn about her in a shimmering pool of light as she went about unwrapping a gift from Laurent Brodaire. Her treasured dog, Button, yipped happily at her heels and played in the wrapping paper she tossed at her feet with each shredding of a new present. A bright pink bag emerged from the corner of his vision, and then–the sound of popping. Screaming. An alarm sounded; intruders in the Golightly gala. And then–and then–the mob came out of the shadows like woodwork. Or, well, mobs, he supposed he should say, for no sooner had the intrusion been announced than dozens of men and women were pulling weapons from places hidden among their costumes, screaming and turning them on each other.
Immediately, James felt himself act on impulse. It was no longer a matter of him and her, but simply her. He dove for Bunny, covering his body with her own as they went sliding to the floor and the first round of gunshots exploded around the Garden Hotel’s ballroom. He glanced around, the gunfire ringing in his ears as he tried to determine a safety exit. He would sacrifice everything–sacrifice himself and everything he was–to keep Bunny safe tonight. The thought of losing her–no, he couldn’t bear it. He wouldn’t bear it.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he murmured in a desperate effort to keep Bunny calm, hoping that the weight of his body on top of hers would keep the young woman from having a panic attack in the middle of a surprise shoot-out. There–just there. The corner of the room that led into the depths of the hotel; he’d toured it with Howard earlier, and as he tried to remember the way the hallways curved and veered off, he realized it was their only chance for safety. So, after determining that the guns were ricocheting off the walls around them and not by them, James stood up, scooping Button up under one arm and grabbing Bunny by the back of her exquisite, impossibly expensive dress, forcing her in front of him as he pushed them through the room.
“Keep moving forward; I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered in her ear, his voice breathless as he pushed them through the doorway, the dog quivering under his arm. He handed her Button, assessing her for any injuries once he’d made his way to the hallway. He reached in the waistband of his trousers, pulling out the small handgun Howard had gifted him with for emergency purposes tonight. “Are you alright? Stay with me, Bunny–do everything I tell you to, alright? No questions, no hesitation.”
Despite how nervous she had initially been about her nineteenth birthday party, everything had gone almost exactly according to plan aside from a few minor hiccups. Her grand entrance had been delayed by a half-hour or so, apparently due to a small skirmish that had broken out on the ballroom floor between a couple of drunk patrons, but from there on out, it had been smooth sailing, and Bunny had managed to secure her commencement into New York’s high society scene. It was a whirlwind of expensive gifts, gorgeous dresses, and between the dessert table and the garden petting zoo that her father had arranged solely on her behalf, both Bunny and her dog, Button, were beyond thrilled by the way that things had turned out. She was happier than ever in her gossamer pink gown, the fifty million dollar ring on her finger sparkling every bit as brightly as her beaming grin, and with James at her side even as she began to unwrap presents, she knew that there wasn’t anything in the world that could have made her even happier aside from maybe a kiss from her surly bodyguard whose priority of the night was more catered towards her safety than actually letting himself have a good time. A kiss, perhaps out on the balcony and beneath the stars where they’d both be bathed in moonlight, and...
She was halfway through thanking her ‘uncle’, Laurent, profusely for the beautiful Balenciaga bag he had surprised her with, when suddenly - a series of noises she had only ever heard in the movies and on television was ringing through the party; loud and terrifying, it sounded alarmingly like gunshots, and instantly the entire ballroom broke out into chaos. There was screaming, then, and a sudden onslaught of people she didn’t recognize storming the party, and Bunny barely had time to let out a frightened exclamation of shock before James was throwing himself on top of her and bringing them both down onto the floor. “J - James,” Bunny breathed out in wide-eyed surprise; her heart was beginning to race worryingly fast, and she let out a scared whimper as she looked up at him desperately for an explanation. What was happening? Had people been hurt? Where was her father - her friend? Button? James promised her that she was okay, but the sound of screaming and gunshots were still going off behind them, and even with the reassuring weight of his body pressed securely on top of her own, the young heiress was still terrified beyond measure. Not for her own safety - she knew that James would take care of her no matter what - but for the people she loved, and of course that included him first and foremost.
Bullets seemed to be banging off of the walls in every direction, but James pulled her upwards onto her feet once more, and it was then that Bunny was able to fully take in the sight of the war-torn ballroom. What had once been a high-end gala had turned into an all-out bloodbath, and she felt her stomach turn at the sight of the crimson-colored spills and reddened footsteps all over the marble floor. She froze for a moment, looking around helplessly for any sign of her friends or family, and it was James who tore her out of her shocked reverie by grabbing onto the back of her dress - the dress she had chosen solely for him - and with Button tucked beneath one of his strong arms and his other hand firmly gripped firmly onto her, he began to rush them out of the hotel ballroom. Once they had made it through the doorway, he handed her poor, terrified corgi, and Bunny fumbled to take his chubby little body into her trembling arms. James reached for a gun of his own, then, and she whimpered once more - she didn’t like this one bit.
He told her no questions, though, and no hesitation, and so Bunny knew that she needed to trust him - even if more screams and gunshots were coming from the ballroom they had just left. This was the sort of thing that he and her father planned for; an emergent last resort that would hopefully never have to come to fruition. But why here? Why now? “Will papa be safe?” It was the one query that she couldn’t keep to herself, and it came out small and panicked, her cerulean-blue eyes looking up to helplessly catch his gaze, pleading and beseeching for the reassurance she so desperately needed. “And - and what about Uncle Laurent? And Alexandra, and Charles, and - and everyone who came here for me tonight. What about them, James?”
