Rescued

by Raine Wynd

Amy stood in the little room off the side of the church in her wedding gown and tried very hard not to cry. She'd wanted this marriage, didn't she?

She took a deep breath and concentrated on not feeling sick. She loved Robert, had fallen in love with the handsome, charming, ever so suave physician the day they'd met. If he reminded her a bit too much of someone else...well, everyone had a twin somewhere in the world, didn't they? Her time with the A-Team was a faded memory, fifteen years gone. She was older, wiser, more successful; she'd traveled the world, reported on war and hate and suffering and not nearly enough love. If some part of her had calculated just how rich her new husband was, then it was only reasonable, and not the lessons of a conman with aspirations of society. She was just going to have to ignore the fact that her soon-to-be-husband liked to play rough, that it was a good thing that her dress was long-sleeved. It hid the bruises he'd left on her arms. The dress covered the rest, but Amy's body ached from having been made into a punching bag.

Standing there, alone, waiting for the music to begin, waiting for her cue on what should have been the happiest day of her life, Amy grieved. She'd spent the last decade looking for the jazz, living for that high, that rush of adrenaline that came with a crazy plan successfully executed. What she found were variations of it -- reporting from a battlefield with gunfire all around; wild sex in public places; dares she'd taken just for the sheer thrill of winning the bet. When it all came crashing down, and she was alone with no one to hold her, she drank too much and tried to forget how she'd fallen in love and broken her own heart.

She sighed. Running away to Jakarta was a long time ago, she reminded herself, and it hadn't been running away as much as a strategic retreat. She ignored the fact that she was tired of retreating, and that she wasn't sure she could find her way back anymore.

She studied her reflection in the mirror one more time and, turning away, picked up the small bouquet of roses. Outside, she could hear the organist playing.

Then the door opened. Thinking it was one of Robert's friends, come to get her for the ceremony, Amy moved towards the door, mindful of the heavy dress , its copious length, and trying not to drop the roses. "I'm coming," she said.

"Good," said a voice she hadn't expected to hear.

Startled, Amy halted her forward movement. "Face?" she gasped. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled crookedly. "Rescuing you, what does it look like?" he countered. "Come on, let's get you out of here. Unless you're going to let the fine doctor continue to break every bone in your body just so he can fix it later?"

"How--how'd you know?"

Face's smile faded. "Let's just say that a friend of a friend of a friend let me know." Gently, he pulled the roses out of her hand and set them back down on the chair. "One more time, Amy. Do you want to go with me? I need you. I've missed you. I promise you it's a lot safer where we're going."

She closed her eyes briefly and nodded. "Okay," she said meekly.

Posted to 7/21/07 Comments welcome.