( &&. @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.”
