A short 770 drabble

~*~

Her name was Ella Fallon. She was a sixteen-year old junior attending the private school East Helena Academy. She was the daughter of Peter and Faith Fallon, sister to eleven other children, and the aunt of the eldest child's three children. She was five foot five and a half and weighed one hundred and forty three pounds. She had pale blonde hair and silver-bluish eyes. And at 5:42 PM every Thursday, she left the East Helena Performing Arts Center and walked to the Brimstone Street Diner.

At least, that's what the sheet of paper carelessly folded in Flynt's back pocket said.

He was leaning casually against a telephone pole across the street from the private school's theatre, pretending to be engrossed by something on his cell phone's screen, but from the corner of his eye, he was watching the doors, waiting for the subject to exit. Several other students had already left, but none of them looked like the girl from the photos he was shown. If Flynt was honest with himself, he would admit that he was getting impatient, but they had told him that she liked to stay behind a few extra minutes after everyone else left for various reasons. So he waited.

Sure enough, a few seconds after his phone's clock switched to 5:42, Ella Fallon sashayed out the doors and down the stairs, her ballerina bun staying firm as her head bobbed to a silent beat.

Flynt straightened up, pocketing the company cell phone as he pretended to be examining a flyer taped to the telephone pole about a found dog. Ella Fallon, after waiting for the streetlight to change to green, crossed the street with purpose as a large duffel bag swung from her shoulder.

After Ella Fallon passed by him without really noticing him, Flynt counted to five before turned on his heel to follow her from a safe distance.

He allowed three people to come between them, so she wouldn't have a reason to suspect anyone was following her. With that huge ballerina bun that towered over the top of her head though, it would be practically impossible to lose her. Which was a good thing, because if he did, Greer would never let him on a solo mission ever again- and even worse, the guys would never let him hear the end of it.

Stealth was never really Flynt's strong suit in the first place. That was more up Dest's alley. When he was assigned watching over the latest Ebon witness, he was honestly shocked at first, but acted cocky about it, of course. He would never let them think that he wasn't up for a mission. It was just that he was the unofficial brawn of the team. He was the best fighter out of all of them (he even held the record from most Ebons taken out, which was a low number, because Ebons rarely let themselves get caught in a fight to begin with), so he was up for playing bodyguard. It was just the part where he couldn't let the witness know that she had a bodyguard that troubled him.

But still. It was just making sure a girl didn't walk into an Ebon trap. And how hard could that be?

Ella Fallon, with earbuds in her ears, made another cross at the next street as two of the men separating turned the opposite direction. After letting a small family exiting a toy store go in front of him, Flynt followed, focusing on the space next to her left ear. Inattentively, Ella Fallon glanced back, and Flynt continued to stare at the space beyond as she twisted her head back around.

They walked for about a mile more, a mile of people taking different turns and Flynt letting others go before him to avoid suspicion, before Ella Fallon made an abrupt turn down an alleyway beside the Brimstone Street Diner.

Flynt hesitated for a moment, vaguely recalling from the sheet of paper in his pocket that the subject always entered through the front door of her family's restaurant, but slowly followed Ella Fallon from a distance, figuring that she was just going to help out during the dinner hours in the kitchens.

When Flynt rounded the corner, a blonde and blue blur rammed into him and slammed him into a wall.

Flynt blinked in shock as he vaguely realized that a furious-looking Ella Fallon was standing before him, holding a broken piece of pipe threateningly.

"I'm going to give you ten seconds to tell me who are you and why you're following me," the girl growled. "Or else."