Gabriel Hudson winced, adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, and reminded himself that Moira was a civilian.

A civilian who he had every intention of turning away because he did not need her to be in the line of fire, but she ended up there anyway. As soon as he saw that familiar glint in the tree line, he knew it was too late. There was no way Moira would make it home alive and from that moment, whether she wanted it or not, she became his responsibility.

It was, really, just the thing he needed.

After everything he's been through and the week he's had, getting his mother's favorite person involved in the crap he was already knee-deep in was not part of his plan. And, yes, he knew who Moira was the moment he saw her. His Ma wouldn't stop gushing about her every time they got on a call. Her description did not do Moira any justice, at all.

Just his luck that he met the prettiest woman he's ever seen while he's on the run.

Someone somewhere out there was laughing at him.

Probably Lanster, the bastard. He's a dead man as soon as Gabriel finds out who in the CIA decided to pin what happened in New Mexico on him.

"I need to go home, bake about a dozen cookies and call it a night, yeah, that sounds very ideal!" Moira was saying, which snapped Gabriel out of his thoughts.

He shook his head. "Ideal, sure. Safe? No."

"What?" Out of his peripheral, Moira was watching him with eyes wide as saucers. "What do you mean? What is going on? And why were there people shooting at you?!"

Gabriel took a deep fortifying breath and shoved aside the urge to cuss at everything in favor of squeezing the steering wheel that much tighter. He needed to be calm for both of them. He checked the rearview mirror before answering her, "What I mean is that your place is compromised. I can guarantee you they've already sent someone there who's just waiting for you to arrive and finish the job. Lucky for you, I'm not letting that happen."

"Sent who?" The question came out breathless with a wild shake of her head. "What job? Who's they, and why would they be after me?"

"Because you're with me now."

"But I'm...not?"

Gabriel huffed out a humorless laugh. "They don't really care. Look," he continued when she opened her mouth, "I can't tell you what exactly is happening. All you have to know is that I'm the good guy here and those people back there want me dead yesterday. Now they want you dead as well, so if you want to live, you're just going to have to trust me to keep you safe."

"Oh, God..." She took a deep breath but it hitched dangerously, like she was going to start crying. "Oh, God, why is this happening? I- I literally just wanted to check up on Mrs. Hudson, get home, watch some trashy B-rate movies, go to bed at a reasonable time so I can wake up early tomorrow and finish Nat's cupcakes- Oh, no, Nat's cupcakes! And Millie! My parents! Gabriel, what about my parents–"

"They'll be fine," he quickly assured her, confident but he also didn't want her to start hyperventilating again. "As long as you don't get into any type of contact with them, at least not for the next twenty-four hours."

"But they're leaving tomorrow for their honeymoon and I promised to feed the dog while they're gone! And I have a business to run!" Her voice cracked and Gabriel clenched his jaw when she sniffled. "I have a life...I can't just leave it behind."

"I'm not asking you to," he said, trying to be gentle. This wasn't his expertise. Point him to a target and he'll pull the trigger no problem. But point him to a traumatized civilian and Gabriel will run in the other direction. He's never been good with people, that's his Ma's specialty, but he has to try for Moira. It's the least he could do. "I'm really sorry you got dragged into this, Moira. I really, really am. But until I find out who set me up, you're in as much danger as I am."

A heavy blanket of silence covered them as Gabriel continued to guide the car down the highway. It was nearly empty but not unusual for small towns. Then Moira started sniffling even more, and Gabriel had half a mind to jump out of the vehicle.

"Why did you even come here?"

Gabriel shouldn't feel so relieved at the tone of anger in her voice. The anger he could deal with. "I had to make sure Ma was safe. I knew she'd be their first target."

"So why didn't you leave? Why stay here and put everyone in harm's way?!"

Gabriel felt a muscle in his cheek twitch. He had a plan: a plan that didn't involve a civilian and perhaps that was an oversight on his part. He should've known. Should've accounted for an unknown factor. Should've thought more beyond aim and shoot.

Dammit.

"I'm sorry, Moira," he apologized again as quietly and softly as he could, thinking of how his Ma used to do the very same thing for him when he was younger and had way too much anger at the world. "I promise you, I'll try to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible."

"How quick?" She asked, nasally.

He blew out a long breath, bracing himself as he replied, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Moira repeated, disbelief dripping from the words. "You don't know. Of course, what else was I expecting."

Gabriel figured it was probably not a good time to mention that her cupcakes helped a bit in their escape from the house. The shooters slipped on them when they barged in.

"Will it help if I told you I'd know in about twelve hours?" He shot her a quick look and found her frowning at him, arms crossed at her chest with red-rimmed eyes. "Just...trust me. Please. I know I'm asking a lot from you but if you stick with me and do as I say, we'll get out of this. I swear it."

A few heartbeats passed before she finally said, "Okay."

Gabriel sighed in relief and felt some tension leave his shoulders. "Thank you."

"So..." Moira said a second later, shifting in her seat. "What are we gonna do?"

Gabriel checked the rearview mirror again as he answered, "For now, get as far away from here as possible and find a safe house where we could rest and regroup. Which reminds me..."

"What?" she asked, regarding him with suspicion when gave her a once-over.

He returned his gaze to the road. "Do you have a phone?"

"Yes..."

"May I have it?"

There was some shifting from his companion as Moira pulled the device from her jeans' back pocket and slapped it down on his open palm when he held it out.

Then he rolled down the window and threw it out.

Silence.

Then–

"What are you doing?!"

"Your phone can be tracked and the point of a safe house will go down the drain if the bad guys can find us through your phone."

"And you couldn't have told me before you threw it out?"

Gabriel blinked. "I didn't know how you'd take it."

Moira sighed. "Better than that if you had explained it first, jeez...are you sure you're Mrs. Hudson's child?"

Gabriel was thankful for the darkness as he felt his cheeks go warm. "I've never been good with words."

"I'll say," she scoffed, but there was no bite behind it. At least, not any that Gabriel could detect. For all he knew, she was plotting his murder. "How about next time you think of pulling something like that, tell me?"

He slowly nodded. "I'll try."

"I guess I could settle for that."

Silence reigned on them again until Moira asked, "Any chance you could tell me where this safe house is?"

Gabriel thought about it for a second. "Virginia."

"Oh...well, I guess I'm finally leaving Georgia."

He frowned but didn't ask her to elaborate.

By the time they reached the Georgia-South Carolina border, it was well into the night and Moira was curled up in her reclined seat, sleeping fitfully, and Gabriel felt bad for having to wake her up.

He gingerly reached across the center console to shake her shoulder. "Hey, we gotta go."

"We there yet?" she asked, voice hoarse, and blinked out at the view around them.

"No, but we need to hurry."

He stepped out of the car before her and made his way towards the shutter door of the unit he had parked in front of. The self-storage facility was small but Gabriel's team didn't rent it out for its space; the top-notch security system was what sold them. Well, that and because they're all a bunch of paranoid SEALs so they decided that it was good to have a place for resources near their individual home bases.

"In case of emergencies," Leon, his CO, had said with a grin when he pitched the idea to them. Gabriel would say his situation was something of an emergency.

"What are we doing here?" Moira asked just as he finished punching in his code for the lock.

He stepped back as the door began to lift open and looked over to his companion. Moira was leaning over the top of the passenger-side door, glancing around the fenced-off yard. Under the orange glow of the spotlights strategically placed at each corner of the property and away from the immediate threat of danger, Gabriel allowed himself to take her all in again. He hadn't realized how tall she actually was, five-nine, maybe, and slim with brown hair that curled down her back from the ponytail she had it up in.

Prettiest woman he's ever seen. He's no expert on women but he could appreciate their beauty.

Kid, his teammate, and self-proclaimed Romeo would probably call her looks delicate.

It would fit, Gabriel decided.

"Seriously, is there something on my face?" Moira suddenly asked, snapping him out of it.

"Your face is fine," he muttered and ducked under the door when there was enough space.

She scrambled after him. "What?"

"Nothing." He flipped the light switch on, revealing cabinet-lined walls and a black Ford Ranger right in the middle of it all.

Moira whistled out a sharp tune. "Wow, that's sleek."

Gabriel left her to look over the truck in favor of heading to the cabinet in the very back. He quickly dialed in the number combination on the lock and pulled the double doors open. He ignored the array of shotguns and rifles mounted inside and reached for a fully-packed bag at the bottom next to a safe which he also unlocked.

Her footsteps warned Gabriel of Moira's approach. "Hey, you never really told me what we're here for– Is– Are those– are those more guns? Are all these cabinets filled with guns?!"

"No," he replied, grabbing the Glock 19 lying on a box of ammunition and a .380 pistol from the safe's top-shelf. He removed the CZ from his waist band, then added his newly acquired weapons into the bag before standing up from his crouch. He closed the safe with the toe of his boot and locked the closet back up, adding, "Not all of them."

There was silence before she asked in a whisper, "Who are you?"

Wasn't that the million-dollar question.

Too bad he doesn't have the answer to it. Instead, he nudged her back out into the night and said, "I'm gonna pull the truck out. You swing your car in, okay? It'll be safe here."

For a few seconds she just stared at him and for the first time since this whole shit-fest started, he saw a hint of fear in her gaze directed at him. It made something twinge behind his ribs, right where his heart should be.

Then she finally nodded. "Okay."

He returned the gesture and didn't get into the truck until she was behind the wheel of her car. As soon as he had the truck out, he left the engine idling and hopped back out to watch as Moira guided her vehicle into the empty space. He pointed her to where she could leave her keys in one of the safes and told her to get in the truck while he closed everything up.

When he slipped behind the steering wheel once again, Moira had apparently figured out the radio and had switched it to a classic rock station.

"I hope this is fine," she said a bit sheepishly.

"This is fine," he replied as he steered the truck out of the lot, thinking that there was some sort of irony to driving away for their lives to the tune of Danger Zone.

Moira snickered into her hand before explaining when she saw his questioning look, "Such an appropriate meme."

"Meme?" he repeats trying to figure out if the word was even English, waiting for her to elaborate after she nodded. She didn't. "What the hell is a meme?"

She gasped and gave him a look that was a mix of genuine shock and disbelief. "You're kidding me, right? How can you not know what a meme is?"

He ticked a brow up in her direction.

She nodded. "Of course. Allow me to educate you, then."

And educate him she did until she started cutting herself off with yawns that got bigger the longer she tried to stave off the need to go back to sleep. Finally, she dropped off, making use of the throw blanket he had stashed in the backseat to become a human burrito. He turned off the radio when her breathing evened out.

The silence allowed his brain to plan and formulate a couple of backups until the morning sun began to peek over the horizon, streaking the morning sky with orange shades and chasing away the midnight blue. Moira groaned and shifted when a ray hit her right smack in the face.

Gabriel couldn't help his huff of amusement before flipping down the visor on her side, hoping it'll help some. A few minutes went by and she shifted again, this time waking up with a yawn and full-body stretch, and stared out of the window with a blank gaze.

And then she finally sat up, returning her seat into place from its recline, as she asked, "Where are we?"

"Good ol' Virginia."

"Virginia..." She looked back out the window. "Wait a second. Virginia. You grew up here, right? I remember your mom telling me."

He nodded. "Sure did. It's been a while since I've been back though."

"How long?"

"About ten years," he shrugged. "Basically since my mom moved to Georgia."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty."

"Oof! You've hit that big three-oh!" she said with a teasing smile, then tilted her head in thought. "Thirty...then that means you've been in the Navy for twelve years? 'Cuz you joined at eighteen, right?"

"You seem to know an awful lot about me."

Out of his peripheral, he saw a blush bloom high on her cheeks as she stammered, "Your mom talked about you a lot. She really loves you. Proud, too."

He smiled out at the road. "Yeah."

Moira suddenly cleared her throat, and when he looked at her she turned away. He frowned but didn't question her. She's been through a lot after all. Then she spoke up again.

"So, uh...this whole situation you're in, does it have to do with the military?" She went on when he says nothing, "I know you said you can't tell me what's going on, but...you got me into this mess, and I'm- I'm not saying that to guilt trip you or anything–"

Still feels like it.

"–but I think I deserve something."

Gabriel bit his tongue, thinking, then exhaled on a nod. "Alright. But, later, okay? When we get to the safe house."

"Okay." She nodded back then paused. "Is there any way we could stop at a gas station? I need to use the bathroom."

He checked the gas gauge and answered, "Yeah, we can do that."

A while later, Gabriel turned the truck into a small, isolated gas station on a back-road that had a reasonable price. Together, they got out and Gabriel waited until Moira finished touching the toes of her sneakers to stretch her legs. As they walked across the lot, Gabriel kept an eye on their surroundings. Nothing but trees. He knew better than to trust their unassuming appearance.

"Mornin'," the old man behind the counter greeted with a heavy Southern accent as a bell jingled overhead when they walked in. Behind him, a small television screen played the early morning news on a low volume with the subtitles on.

Gabriel nodded while Moira waved with a smile.

"Morning," she replied, then headed for the signs pointing to the restrooms in the back of the store.

Gabriel walked around and plucked off some snacks and drinks from the shelves before walking over to the counter. He paid for his purchases and gas, receiving a raised brow at the roll of cash he pulled out but said nothing. Just as he was collecting his bags of snacks, the news showed video footage of his mom's house, all shot up as a news anchor relayed information. Then it switched over to a video taken sometime during the night of a burning apartment building and a group of firemen dousing it with water.

There was a gasp from behind him, and when he turned he found Moira staring at the TV, pale as a ghost. Gabriel clenched his fists as understanding dawned on him.

Dammit.

"Tragic, ain't it?" the old man asked after twisting to see the news as well. "Somethin's goin' on down there in Georgia, I tell ya'."

Gabriel didn't bother to answer, instead, he ushered Moira out with a hand on the small of her back because she was starting to look like she might start bawling her eyes out at any given second.

"Hey, you good?" he asked quietly once they reached the passenger side of the truck, ducking his head as he tried to see her face.

Without warning, she turned into his chest and wrapped her arms fiercely around his middle before sobs started to wrack her shoulders. Hesitantly, Gabriel brought his free hand up and cupped the back of her head, praying it was, in some form, comforting to the woman.

"They did that, didn't they?" she asked a little while later, words muffled against his shirt and hitching. "If I stayed, I would've been in that fire. I would've been de- dead..."

Gabriel let his hand fall away when she started to pull back and resisted the urge to punch something when her brown eyes, red-rimmed once again, stared up at him mournfully. He made a silent promise then and there.

He's going to hunt down the people actually responsible for everything and see to it that they'll never know the light of day for the rest of their miserable lives.

Not just for Moira...

But for his men, too.