To Serve & Protect: Night Watch

As though that was a signal, the crowd went into a frenzy. Some tried to escape. Some turned on each other. Some rushed the officers. Guns, knives, chains and clubs appeared. Mike threw a grenade to each side and he and Pat ducked the explosions. Jumping back to his feet, Mike advanced towards the figure of the helpless woman. He fired carefully aimed shots each time one of the worshippers attempted to reach her.

Pat followed her husband. She knew Mike's whole attention was on rescuing the woman. She determinedly covered him, firing to either side at anyone she thought posed any threat to him. A man rushed towards Mike from their left with an uplifted knife. Pat shot him twice without a thought, much less an order to halt. A woman to her right lifted a revolver and Pat dropped her instantly. She couldn't believe it. She and Mike weren't vigilantes, they were cops.

She didn't realize that she had spoken aloud until Mike answered her. "No honey," he flung over his shoulder. "This is a war and we've been picked as soldiers. Well, picked as Marines anyway, I was never a doggie." He dropped to one knee, changed magazines and emptied it in quick 3 round bursts.

Then they had reached the altar. Pat holstered one weapon and quickly checked the young woman. She was breathing. Pat almost cursed under her breath as she saw the bruises on the woman's pelvic area. Hearing a shoe scrape on the concrete, she turned to find one of the men who had been surrounding the stone trying to back away. Seeing his robe hiked up into his still open pants, Pat realized he was one of the men who had been raping the woman, and he still clutched a gun. Aiming her pistol lower than normal, she fired twice. Matt spun, to see the man writhing on the floor, his hands clutching his groin.

"Nice shot."

"Thanks."

The blinding mixture of the dark and light shapes filled the room. Forces beyond human comprehension were in conflict. Pat and Mike felt dizzy. Mike saw the robed figures nearest the battle begin to fall and knew the climax of the battle was at had. He scooped the inert form of the woman up in his arms. He set her carefully behind the protection of the granite altar. Pulling Pat down beside her, he covered both of them with his body.

A massive but silent explosion swept over them. Protected as they were by the granite block, they were still buffeted by the release of the forces involved. When thing stopped falling around them Mike popped over the marble top of the altar, his rifle swinging to cover the room.

"It's okay," came the now familiar old man's voice. Mike helped Pat stretch the young woman's quiet form on the slab. Mike pulled off his vest, now empty of magazines and grenades, rolled it and pillowed her head. Pat snatched off her black leather jacket and covered the woman as best she could.

Looking around the shambles of the cavernous room Pat shook her head. Bodies lay all over in the contorted positions they had fallen. The grenades had torn holes in the concrete blocks and a fine dust covered everything. "What a mess."

"DAMN, but that was fun." The old man spun his cane in a blinding circle. "I haven't got to fight that son-of-a-bitch one on one in decades now. Thanks for inviting me to the affair. And not to worry Pat, I'll take care of the mess. Well, most of it anyway. I'll leave the ones around the altar to show that you did your job too."

"Who ARE you? What did you mean we invited you?

The old man smiled. "You know who I am, Mike. And Pat, your willingness to face the evil here was all the invitation I needed." He raised a hand as his words sunk in and Mike, realization on his face, started to kneel. "None of that, Mike! My ancient foe, now he demands subservience. He looks for worshippers and makes them his slaves. I look for companions, for fellow warriors against the dark. You two are that. And more than you two. I see your children and your children's children all as fellow warriors, be they cops or soldiers or doctors, or simply loving men and women. An ever-growing army that will 'Serve and Protect'." His head turned and for a moment they caught again the brilliance concealed beneath his old man's face. "Your friends are here. I'm proud of them too."

With that he was gone. All that remained where the eight bodies at the altar and the still unconscious woman.

"Mike! Pat! Are you down here?" Lieutenant Linda Shannon's voice echoed throughout the chamber. She burst through the ruins of the door, her Browning in both hands. Behind her came Deputy Bob Dupree, Mike's onetime partner, and a dozen other deputies. Seeing the two were safe, they lowered their weapons.

"Wow, what a mess," observed Linda, unconsciously echoing Pat's earlier words. "What happened here?"

Somehow Mike and Pat were able to stammer out a story of freak conditions that prevented them from summoning aid and an account of a struggle to rescue the almost victim from a band of armed men. Fortunately the swarm of law-enforcement, rescue and even news crews enabled them to coordinate their stories. The few inconsistencies were blamed on the confusion of the situation.

Finally finished, they trudged wearily towards the parking lot. Linda appeared and stopped them in the corridor. After making sure they were alone, she looked at them and whispered, "I know a lot more went on there than you're telling. But I trust you. If and whenever you can tell me, I'd like to hear it."

Mike nodded. Pat squeezed Linda's arm and they left the station.

"Honey?" Pat turned her husband around to face her. "He," and Mike knew exactly who she referred to, " Said you knew him. And you did." Mike smiled and fished out the chain around his neck again. He showed her the medal he wore."

"Him?"

"Well honey, he is the patron saint of police officers."

"WOW."

The two officers finally reached their home well after daybreak. The house was empty. Pat found the note Carol had left, telling them that a neighbor was taking them to school and Mike, Jr. to daycare. Pat blessed Mrs. Welborn for her thoughtfulness.

She collapsed into a chair, suddenly so spent she couldn't hold herself up. Mike pulled off her jacket and then carefully unstrapped her gun belt. He left to put their weapons up in the locker they kept them in. When he returned he knelt and carefully untied her boots and took them and her socks off. Pat could tell he was exhausted too, but in a burst of strength he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the master bathroom. When he pushed open the door, the steam billowed out and Pat could hear the water running in the tub.

Mike kicked the door closed behind them. He softly kissed her as he helped her out of her filthy clothes. His clothes followed and he settled them both in the tub. She leaned back against his chest, his legs on either side of her. He dipped the washcloth in the hot water, covered it in body wash and began to gently wash her whole body. The soothing touch of her husband's hands, even over her breasts and sex, all but put her to sleep.

After he finished cleansing them both Mike helped Pat to her feet. He let the water out of the tub and turned the shower on. Warm but not hot, the water sluiced their bodies clean and restored some of their energy. Pat suddenly giggled as she felt something bump against her leg.

"MIKE! Don't you ever get tired?"

He laughed. "It must be something you feed me darling, because I never seem to." He lifted her to the bathroom floor and they dried each other off. Pat's eyes sparkled as she threw her arms around Mike and kissed him. His strong arms lifted her face even with hers, her toes dangling well off the floor. She clung there, laughing and waving her legs as he walked the two of them their bed.

Feeling it behind her, Pat let go and tumbled onto the fresh sheets. Mike stood over her for a minute. His eyes caressed her petite, shapely form. Her short, dirty blonde hair fell across her face. Mike thought then, as he had always thought, how beautiful she was and how lucky he had been she had come into his life.

Pat reached out a hand to her husband. He sat on the edge of the bed and their fingers locked. He was so handsome, she thought. Strong, and yet as loving and tender to her and the children as he could be. She wished she could have given him more. He was a great father, she thought, not realizing that at the same moment Mike was thinking what a fantastic mother she was.

He bent to her and kissed her. Her mouth opened immediately to him. She rolled onto her side and he matched her movement so they lay facing each other. The kiss deepened, becoming passionate but still loving. She ran her fingers over his chest, delighting in the swell of the muscles and the feel of the hair. He took the breasts he thought the sexiest in the world in his hands. He brushed each nipple with his thumbs, letting his fingers touch every bit of the firm globes.

Pat slipped her lips to the side of Mike's neck. She licked down over the pulse point, softly sucking the skin there. The throbbing seemed to echo through her own body, quickening both their heartbeats. He responded by swirling his tongue in her ear and nibbling down the shell with tiny bites.

She slid her shorter body down his and threw her leg over him. Hooking it behind him she pulled their bodies together. His powerful leg lifted hers and the head of his cock pressed against her open slit. She jutted her hips and with a satisfying lunge he slid all the way inside her.

For a long breathless moment they simply held each other. Arms wrapped around bodies and their mouths met again. Mike rolled onto his back, his hard cock still buried in her. He kept her body next to his, his arms locked around her back. She slid up and then back down, flexing her lower body. She slipped her hands under him, gripping his shoulders.

Her breath was warm and her tongue a delicious living entity in his mouth. Her hard nipples scraped back and forth over his chest. He pushed up into her. She rode his cock, feeling each meeting of their bodies driving it deeper and deeper into her. She crooned wordlessly as the up thrust of his hips ground the head of his shaft deep into her pussy and rubbed it against her spot.

Faster they moved against each other. Both of them felt fulfilled, the joining of their bodies making them as one. Her body tensed and her internal muscles clamped tightly onto his cock. He swelled inside of her, locking them completely together.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh," Pat breathed as she felt Mike's cock empty itself into her. The hot spurt filled her, washing her back and forth as though waves rocked her. She cried, "Mike!" and fell to him, his cock pulsating inside her pussy. When the spasms subsided for both of them, she simply laid her head on his shoulder and went to sleep. After insuring his arms held her tight, as his cock softened in her, Mike fell asleep too.

Weeks later Mike pulled up to their family doctor's office. He got out of the truck, then paused as he looked through the window and saw his wife heading for the door. Pat came out of the doctor's office with a very strange look on her face. Mike opened the passenger's side door and helped her in.

"What is it?" He asked anxiously as he got back in the driver's side. "Are you alright? What's been making you sick?" He quieted as Pat held up her hand.

She sat there for a moment, thoughts chasing each other across her face so quickly that Mike was unable to read them. She opened her mouth twice without speaking.

"Honey?"

Pat reached over and took his hand. Her eyes shown with joy mingled with disbelief. "I'm pregnant," she said simply.

"But, but, but...Pat," Mike stammered. "All the doctors, they said you couldn't, we couldn't; I mean, what happened?"

"They don't know Mike." She looked at him. "I believe Dr. Morgenstern used the word 'miracle'."

Nine months after the battle Pat gave birth to twin boys. Comments were made at their christening about the two boys being given the same middle name. Linda and Bob were the godparents. When the service was over, the Gibsons and their friends left the building with Robert Michael Gibson and Daniel Michael Gibson, each in a parent's arms. As they came down the steps, Pat saw an elderly man leaning on his cane across the street. He smiled at her, lifted his cane in a wave and disappeared into the crowd.

(The End)

(Thank you to my editor and best friend Marian as always. Thanks to Linda_S for her invaluable suggestions and support. And finally, thanks to the real life man who became Mike in these stories, just for being you. Feedback is always appreciated.)