Vidiya

Chapter 7: The Boyfriend

You were awoken the next morning by a loud bang from somewhere within the Academy. The sun was already up, shining through the small window of Five’s bedroom. Today you didn’t have to be at the theater until later in the day, so you and Five had been able to sleep in. Which was a good thing, considering you hadn’t gotten that much sleep during the night. As it turned out, Five’s libido had been turned up to eleven and you were woken up more than once by persistent kisses and his rock hard erection pressing up against you.

Not that you were complaining.

But you were tired now, and you sunk deeper into the bed, burrowing your face into Five’s chest.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice muffled.

“Hmmm?” Five answered, still half asleep.

Then you heard another loud noise, this time accompanied by a voice.

“Fivey! Hey, you here?”

Five’s eyes flew open and he sat straight up in bed, making your head drop onto the mattress. “Shit.”

“What’s going on?” you asked again, this time a little more annoyed. You rubbed at your eyes. “Who’s here?”

Five groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Klaus.”

“Your brother?”

Five nodded. “Shit,” he said again, untangling himself from your body and stumbling out of bed, almost falling on his face as he grabbed his boxers off the floor.

Just as Five had them pulled half-way up his legs, the bedroom door flung open.

“Oh, there you are! Jesus, I’ve been looking all over for–” Klaus stopped mid-sentence when he saw Five hastily tugging his underwear on while you pulled the covers up over your chest. “Oh shit…” Klaus gasped. Then he broke out in a huge grin. “Wait… Fivey! Is this her? The ballerina?” 

Klaus stepped around Five to address you. “Hi, I’m Klaus, I’m sure Five has told you all about me. I think I can speak for our entire family when I say that it’s about damn time someone took the old man here to Pound Town. He really needed to do the ol’ lust-and-thrust, if you know what I mean.” He made a lewd gesture with his hand. “Poor guy… the pressure has just been building and building, and I was telling him just the other day that he could stand to play a game of hide the cannoli before it falls off and –”

Five grabbed Klaus’s arm with a yank and they both disappeared in a flash of blue, leaving you blinking bewilderedly into the space they had just been occupying.

From the other room you heard the aftermath.

“What’s the matter with you, Cinco? OW!”

“What's the matter with me?! What’s the matter with you?!”

“OW! Stop hitting me!”

“NO! You’re lucky I’m not armed right now!”

“OW! God damn it, Five! You’re acting like a lunatic!”

While the two brothers were arguing, you hopped out of bed and pulled your clothes on. Then you snuck out of the bedroom and into the living room. Five’s entire body was coiled tight and he breathed like a bull through flared nostrils. The fact that he was standing there in just his underwear, with his hair sticking up in every direction, and clearly wanting to kill his brother, made you laugh. You covered your mouth when Five whipped his head in your direction.

“See? She thinks it’s funny,” Klaus said, pointing at you. “Thank goodness she has a sense of humor, you crabby old bastard.”

“Shut. Up. Klaus.” Five spat out through gritted teeth.

“Five, it’s ok,” you assured him, although you weren’t entirely sure it was ok. Five really looked ready to explode. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal,” Klaus added helpfully. “So I caught you in a pants-off-dance-off; so what? I’m happy for you! You finally found someone to touch your wiener and personally I think that’s beautiful.”

Five covered his face with both hands and groaned. “Fuck my life.”

Trying your very best to keep from laughing at the entire situation, you walked up to Klaus and officially introduced yourself.

“It’s nice to finally meet one of Five’s brothers,” you said. “I hear enough about you.”

“I bet he says I’m his favorite, right?” Klaus joked.

“Actually… yeah,” you said with a smile.

Klaus gasped so dramatically with a hand on his chest, you thought he might fall backwards onto the floor. “Fivey! I knew it!” He reached out to hug Five, but was met with a look that meant he would surely meet his demise if he even attempted any physical contact.

Klaus backed off, but he grinned at Five. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you she would jump your rickety old bones.”

“He jumped my bones, actually,” you corrected.

“Oooh… such a horny old man… I love that for you!”

“Klaus?” Five said.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“For the love of god… GET THE FUCK OUT!” Five yelled, his neck muscles straining with the effort.

Hardly fazed by his brother’s outburst, Klaus turned to you. “Well, I better go because I can see that twitchy look in his eye and I don’t really feel like making a trip to the Void today. But it was very nice meeting you, you seem lovely.”

You laughed. “Thank you, so do you.”

“Bye, Fivey… don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Klaus called over his shoulder as he walked into the foyer and you heard the door close behind him.

You looked at Five, staying silent lest you piss him off anymore.

“Sorry,” he said, clearly still fuming.

“Five, it’s fine. I don’t really care. And I’m not really sure why you’re so angry.” You paused and thought of something. “Are you ashamed to be with me?”

Five’s eyes widened. “What? Of course not!”

“Then why are you so angry?”

Five sighed. “I was just… I don’t know… I just wanted to keep you for myself for a little bit longer. Now Klaus is going to blab his mouth to my entire family and pretty soon all of my idiot siblings are going to be down here, putting in their two cents. For some reason they feel the need to always comment on my life choices.”

You breathed a little sigh of relief, then went to him, circling your arms around his waist. “I think they just want you to be happy.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Them leaving me alone would make me happy.”

You squeezed him tighter and kissed his cheek. “I think you’re a big liar.”

Five raised his eyebrows, settling his hands on your hips. “You’re calling me a liar?”

You nodded. “Yep.”

With a sad shake of his head, he hoisted you over his shoulder while you shrieked out loud. “Help!” you cried with a laugh “I’m being taken against my will!”

“Sorry, sweetheart… no one is coming to save you,” Five said solemnly before blinking you into the bedroom and tossing you onto the bed.

******************************

An hour later, after Five had finished his thorough torture of you, and you were allowed to shower and dress again, it was time to get going to the theater.

“I need to stop back at my place,” you told him. “I forgot my lucky hairpin.”

“You have a lucky hairpin?” Five asked skeptically as he buttoned up his shirt and tucked it into his pants.

“Yes. And don’t make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sarcastically.

“So, are you taking me there or not?”

“Who’s asking? The boss or the girlfriend?”

You shrugged. “Let’s say the boss.”

Five gave a lazy salute in your direction. “Then you got it.”

When you kissed him hard on the mouth, then pinched his butt, you pulled back with a smile. “That was the girlfriend.”

Five grinned. “Careful. I don’t want my boss to find out. She’s cute but she’s kind of crazy. She has a lucky hairpin.”

“So I’ve heard,” you said with a giggle.

****************************

Five drove the SUV up your long driveway and parked it at the top, in front of the house. You turned to him with a hand on the door handle.

“I’ll just be a minute. I know right where it is.”

“Hurry up, you don’t want to be late again.”

“Last time was not my fault!” 

With a smile, Five turned off the engine. “True. I’ll take the blame for that one.”

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” you told him as you hopped out.

You fished your house key out of the pocket of your sweatpants and opened the big oak door of your house, shutting it behind you. As you ran up the winding staircase, your footsteps echoed in the big mansion. You jogged into your bedroom, checking the top of your dresser where you sometimes throw your pins and barrettes when you get home from the studio. It wasn’t there, so you knew the only other place it could be was the bathroom.

Flipping the light on, you walked to the counter where you kept a small little dish with some jewelry and more hair stuff. Spotting the pin you needed, you lifted it out of the dish and smiled, tucking it into your bun. When you glanced up at the mirror, something odd caught your eye. One of the candles that lined your bathtub had been knocked over and was lying on its side. It was weird because you knew Five had cleaned everything up after your little sex romp the other night. You remembered because you had specifically made a comment to him about his OCD since he had lined up all of the candles in a perfect row.

Frowning, you reached over and set it upright again. You were going to ask Five about it when you got back in the car. Maybe he hadn’t been as thorough as you had thought. You flipped the lightswitch off and walked back into your bedroom. 

As you crossed to the middle of your room, the hairs on the backs of your arms stood up for just a second and you paused. That’s when you felt something loop around your neck from behind.

Your initial reaction was to scream, but your voice was cut off before it could leave your throat. Whatever was around your neck was getting tighter by the second and you gasped and choked, trying to suck air in, or to make any kind of noise. In your frantic flailing, you backed up against a body. It was clearly someone bigger and taller than you and even in your panic you could hear their heavy breathing close to your ear.

It was your stalker. He must have broken into your house while you were at Five’s and had been waiting for you. The thought made you panic even more.

You brought your hands up, trying to claw at the rope or whatever it was he was strangling you with. When you felt it, though, you knew exactly what it was. One of the satin ribbons from your pointe shoes. That was the reason you couldn’t find one of them yesterday. He had somehow stolen it from the theater. 

The ribbon was flat and slippery against your throat, and you couldn’t get your fingers underneath it to try and pull it away. You were strong, probably stronger than your attacker, so you started to fight back with all of your might. 

Rearing up and throwing your head back, you slammed the back of your skull into his chin, making him cry out in pain. He held on, though, so you moved in the other direction, bending over and trying to flip him over your shoulders.

But he was too tall and you couldn’t get enough leverage. You realized you were going to run out of oxygen very soon. 

“This could have ended differently,” he told you, so close to you that you could feel his hot breath on your neck. “But I wasn’t good enough for you.” He yanked the ribbon tighter. “Where’s your asshole boyfriend, now, huh?”

At that precise moment, Five was in the car, checking his watch. You had been gone several minutes now, which wasn’t cause for alarm, necessarily, but you had said you would be right back. He rapped his fingers on the console, trying to tell himself it was fine and to just give you a couple more minutes. After about thirty seconds, he let out a heavy sigh.

“She really is a tortoise, I swear,” he said to himself before blinking inside the foyer.

Five called your name up the stairs. When he didn’t get an answer, he thought that was weird, but maybe you were in the bathroom and couldn’t hear him. 

There was a loud “thump” sound and then what sounded like shuffling of feet. Then he heard a man’s voice.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Five reached into the back of his waistband for his pistol, but there was nothing there. He realized, horribly, that he had left it in the car.

It didn’t matter, though. In one blink, he was standing at the top of your staircase. He heard another loud thud from your bedroom and sprinted towards it. When he burst through the door, he was met with the worst sight he could have imagined.

You were fighting for your life, kicking and struggling with everything you had, all while your face was turning blue and your eyes were bugging out of your head. Your stalker, the same man that Five had assumed he’d scared off, was trying to choke the life out of you. From the looks of it, he had almost accomplished his goal. 

Five’s entrance distracted the stalker for a moment and in that fraction of a second, you flung your body backwards, slamming him against the wall. The impact made him loosen his grip just enough to where you could get your hands up under his arms, slipping under them and out of his hold. You stumbled forward, reaching for Five, but you had been deprived of oxygen for too long and the spots you had been seeing before your eyes turned to solid black. You fell to the floor in a heap, passed out cold.

Five stared in horror at your limp body. Then he saw red.

He blinked behind your stalker, catching him by surprise. With one arm flung around the front of the man’s neck, Five used his free hand to grab around his other wrist and pull backwards, choking the man just like he had choked you. Five then brought his knee up, slamming it into the small of the other man’s back, directly over his vertebrae. The stalker groaned with pain, the sound coming out strained and gurgling from his throat.

“I told you I’d kill you if I ever saw you again,” Five warned. “Did you think I was fucking kidding?”

As an answer, the man broke free of Five’s grasp, lurching forward to get away from him. He spun around, facing Five head on.

“This is your fault!” he screamed, his scruffy face contorted with anger and pain. “You ruined everything!”

Five blinked directly in front of the man, hauling his fist back and punching him across the cheek bone, where he heard a sharp crack. The man yelled out, but he fought back; swinging his own fist out and making contact with Five’s chin before he could blink out of the way. He didn’t let it slow him down, though, and Five jumped again, landing behind the man and kicking the back of his knees, buckling his legs. When he fell to the ground, Five stood over him, giving him a hard kick in the gut and making the man curl in on himself. 

“You stupid fuck,” Five snarled, balling his fists up and staring the other man down. “Get up!” Five kicked him again, this time directly in the face, splitting his lip wide open and fracturing his nose. “YOU WANNA FIGHT ME? I SAID GET UP!”

Your attacker was broken and bleeding, moaning and clutching at his stomach, but he still wasn’t done. Taking Five’s direction, he slowly and painfully hauled himself up from the floor. He still held the pink ribbon from your shoe, now stained with blood.

He started to cry, tears slipping down his face and mixing with the blood running out of his nose and mouth.

“Why you and not me?” he asked pitifully. “Why are you so fucking special?”

Five smiled dangerously, letting out a low laugh. “See, that’s what you’re not getting, asshole. Neither one of us are special.” He looked at you lying on the floor. “She is.”

“I’M GOING TO KILL BOTH OF YOU!” the man screamed, right before he charged at Five.

Five was able to dodge another hit to the face, but the stalker’s next swing landed on Five’s back, right at the level of his kidney. He clenched his jaw and groaned in pain. He blinked again, this time just a few feet away, but it gave him enough of an advantage to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to the man’s chest. It knocked him off balance and he staggered backwards.

Five took the opportunity to blink one more time, grabbing the front of the man’s shirt in both hands and shoving him as hard as possible away from him and towards the old, drafty window of your bedroom. As the other man was staggering backwards, Five lifted his foot and kicked him with all of his strength, directly in his stomach. That provided enough momentum to send the man flying backwards, right through the glass of the second story window.

There was a loud, high-pitched scream as he disappeared out of sight, and then a sickening “crack”. Then there was silence.

Five ran to the window and looked down. Directly below him was the lifeless body of your stalker, his back snapped in half at an unnatural angle, and draped over one of the cement lion statues that guarded your grandmother’s mansion. A trickle of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth as his lifeless eyes stared back up at Five; the pink ribbon still clutched in his hand and fluttering in the breeze.

Five was glad the fucker was dead, but he didn’t have time to think about that right now. His main objective was you and he blinked to your side, dropping down on the floor and quietly saying your name. He gingerly moved your head so that he could rest it in his lap. He stroked your hair off your face.

You were breathing, he could see that at least. He leaned down, kissing you gently, before picking you up and laying you in your bed. He sat on the edge, next to you, and held your hand. He squeezed it and said your name again.

“Please wake up. Please.” He noted the dark purple line slashed across your throat from the ribbon, and he traced his fingers lightly over it. “Come on, sweetheart… I need you to wake up, now.”

Maybe you were inclined to follow his instructions even when you were unconscious, or maybe it was a coincidence, but at that moment your eyes fluttered open.

“Five,” you croaked out, your throat raw, and you coughed.

“Oh my god,” Five breathed out in relief. He pressed his forehead to your chest and squeezed your hand tighter. “Shit, I thought I lost you for a second.”

“What happened? Are you ok?”

Five chuckled and wiped at his eyes. He kissed your lips. “Of course you would ask that. Yeah, I’m ok. You’re safe now.”

“Where is he?”

“Gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

You coughed again, sucking in a wheezy breath. “Is he dead?”

Five nodded. “Yeah.”

“Did you kill him?”

He swallowed. “Yeah I killed him.”

You nodded thoughtfully for a moment. Then you managed a shaky smile. “I think you might be due for a raise.”

Five let out a loud and short laugh, and shook his head. “No. That was the boyfriend, not the bodyguard.”

********************************

You looked in the mirror as you stabbed your lucky hairpin into your bun and adjusted the strap on your costume. The dressing room was a flurry of activity as the other dancers put on their makeup and talked over one another with excitement. It was finally the opening night of Romeo and Juliet, and you were nervous but also confident. No matter how many times you performed in front of a theater full of people, you always got a few butterflies in your stomach. Right now, you had a few that weren’t caused by just the ballet.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Five standing off to the side, waiting near the doorway for you to come out. You smiled to yourself. He could have come in, no one else would have minded, but he wanted to give you some space. You took one last look in the mirror, making sure everything looked in place, and then went to find him.

“Hi,” you said cheerfully, resting your hands on his arms and squeezing his biceps.

“Hello, my love,” he said with a smile before kissing your cheek gently, so as not to smudge your makeup. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” You ran your hands down his chest, over his tailored suit, and adjusted his tie. “So do you.”

After a few seconds, Five’s smile faded and his eyebrows drew together. “Are you sure you’re ok enough to be doing this? You have an understudy, you know.”

“I have never missed an opening night, and I’m not going to start now.”

“Yeah, well, you probably never almost died before, either.”

“I promise I’m ok, Five.”

He reached out, gently tracing his fingers over your neck. The purple stripe that ran across it was covered with foundation, making it look like a shadow. “You can’t really see it anymore,” he mused.

“Stage makeup is amazing. It hides everything.”

“I’m still not sure about this,” Five said with a frown.

“I swear.. I’m ok. And I really need this. For myself.”

He nodded. “Ok, I get that.”

“And now you don’t have to wait in the wings. You can sit in the audience and watch it for real,” you told him with a big smile. “And then you can meet me right back here afterwards and I will be all yours again.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Again?”

“I meant still,” you said with a smirk.

“That’s what I thought.” Five leaned in to speak quietly, his cheek brushing against yours. “Remember what I told you.”

You traced your fingers over the lapels of his suit coat. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be thinking of you the whole time. Specifically what you will be doing to me later tonight.”

Five’s breath caught in his throat. “Did you just call me baby?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Do you like it?”

He thought for a second and nodded. “Yeah, I think I do. I like it a lot, actually.”

You smiled at the obvious turn-on you just discovered. “Good. Now go take your seat. You’ll be sitting with Stephan’s husband. He’s nice, you’ll like him.” You reached up to give him a small kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you later, ok?”

When you went to walk away, Five grabbed your arm, and you turned back. “Merde,” he said with a smile.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, then you laughed. “Oui. How did you know to say that instead of good luck?”

Five shrugged. “I asked Stephan.”

“You’re amazing. You know it means–”

“Yeah, I know it means shit in French. I’m fluent in seven different languages.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course you are.” You gave him another kiss, this time with a little more force behind it, even if that meant smudging your lipstick a little. “Thank you, Five. Thank you for caring and for knowing what’s important to me.”

“If it’s important to you, it’s important to me,” he said sincerely, and that was probably the first time anyone had said that to you.

**********************************

While Five went to take his seat and you waited backstage, warming up, you thought about all that had transpired in the last week. Five had killed for you. He had done it to save your life. And maybe you should have been a little more traumatized than you were, but deep down you felt safer than you had in a long time. Your stalker was no longer out there, watching you and waiting. You no longer had to look over your shoulder or jump at every shadow you saw. It was over, for good this time. And you had Five to thank for that.

The cops had been called, there was no getting around that. But with all of the evidence stacked up over the preceding weeks, with the letters and the photo and the restraining order, it was quickly deemed self-defense. They questioned you and Five separately and your stories lined up, so they moved on. The deceased wasn’t missed by anyone. He really was a nobody.

Your throat and neck were already starting to heal, even though you still bore the purple bruise from your ribbon. But that would fade. And you had been happy to get back to dancing. It was true what you had told Five. You really needed this performance to go well in order to heal something inside of you.

While you had been able to move on fairly well, you still had not been able to stay in your house. Instead, you had been staying with Five at the Academy. It was temporary, just until you could figure out how to sell your house and Five could find another place to live. But so far it was working out ok. 

The nights weren’t scary anymore. Not when you were in Five’s bed, with his arms wrapped around you, and his body pressed to yours. It was the best feeling in the world, and sometimes you would pretend to be sleeping even after you woke up, just so that you didn’t have to move from your little piece of heaven.

As you made your entrance onto the stage, with the spotlight illuminating only you, you paused to scan the crowd. When you saw him, his sparkling green eyes looking back at you with nothing but adoration, he smiled the most loving smile. You really felt like Juliet, with Romeo comparing you to the sun.

The future for each of you was still uncertain, but for right now life felt pretty wonderful.

Chapter 1: The Ballerina

Five sat in the dingy private investigator’s office, across from the sad and bloated looking man who was interviewing him. As the man droned on in a monotonous tone about sick days (there weren’t any) and health benefits (there weren’t any), Five flexed and unflexed his hand against his thigh in an effort not to walk out of there.

He needed a job. And not just some shitty job cleaning floors or bussing tables. He needed some actual money so he could get an actual apartment and not live in the actual hell he was currently living in. 

After he saved the world, and his family was safe, they had been left to fend for themselves. They had their powers, but that didn’t really mean anything in the grand scheme of things. Turns out when you aren’t being manipulated and corralled into superhero fame by your overly ambitious father, no one seems to give a shit if you can teleport or throw knives or commune with the dead. At least not in any way that’s lucrative. It’s an entertaining party trick at best.

So, against his better judgment, Five found himself once again living in an abandoned hellscape. Only instead of an empty world caused by an apocalypse, it was the empty shell of the Umbrella Academy. It was sad and depressing, and not very comfortable, but he would be damned if he was going to shack up with one of his siblings. As far as Five was concerned, that wasn’t even an option.

When Five had figured out a way back to their correct and rightful timeline, he managed to jump them all there safely, including Lila and Sloane. He even figured out a way to age himself up a few years so that he could pass as a young adult and not an adolescent. The only thing he managed to botch this time was arriving one year after their father killed himself, instead of the one day he was aiming for. During that time, the Academy had fallen into disrepair. There had been no signs of Pogo or Grace.

His siblings dispersed to try and fit back into their old lives, or find new ones for themselves. Each one of them asked Five to come with them, but he declined. He wasn’t some kid that needed charity. He could take care of himself. He’d done it for years.

It was now six months later, and Five had not made much progress. He lived inside the dilapidated mansion, roaming around like a ghost that couldn’t move on. He sold some things that were of value that hadn’t been looted, or were hidden away, so that he had enough money to buy food (and booze) and the bespoke suits he had a penchant for. But getting an actual job when you had no credentials to your name, not even a driver’s license, was more difficult than he had thought. Combine that with his baby face and no one took him seriously. No one with any real clout, anyway.

Which is what brought him to this rundown office building he was sitting in today. Klaus was the one that got him the interview, so Five shouldn’t be surprised it wasn’t exactly a high-end joint.

“Anyway, that’s about it,” the tired man said to Five before taking a sip of what had to have been some very stale coffee in a paper cup. “It’s a private security detail. One client. Just have to make sure she gets to and from work ok, and check around her house for creeps. Pretty straight forward.”

“So, I’m a bodyguard?” Five asked suspiciously.

The man shrugged. “I guess if you want to think of it that way. And we’ll give you a car, so add chauffeur in there, too.” He paused. “You got a license, right?”

“I do,” Five answered, which wasn’t a lie. He had a license. It just wasn’t legit. But he could drive, so he figured that was all that mattered.

The guy eyed Five up and smirked. “Luckily we don’t guarantee complete safety, which is why we’re dirt cheap compared to some other places.”

“Why luckily?” Five asked, his eyes narrowing.

The man’s large shoulders moved up and down again with apathy. “You know. You’re not exactly built like Arnold Schwartzenegger, you know what I mean?”

Five nodded slowly. “Sure. But I got the job?”

“Yeah, you got the job. But I will need to make sure you can handle a gun before I send you out there. Legality thing, you know?”

The man reached into a drawer of his beat up desk and pulled out a revolver. Five watched silently as he loaded a few rounds into the chambers and checked it over a few times. He held it up to Five.

“You know what this is?”

“A gun?” Five ventured, just to be a prick.

The man rolled his eyes. “I mean do you know what type it is?”

Five sighed. “A .357 Magnum revolver,” he answered in a bored tone.

The man’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah, that’s right. Have you used one before?”

“A time or two.”

“Now, I’m gonna need to make sure you know how to use it properly.” He handed it over the desk for Five to take it from him. “See how it feels in your hand.”

Five looked the gun over, making a show of feeling the weight of it.

“Feel comfortable?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Five nodded with a smile, right before he turned in his seat and aimed the revolver at the door to the office that he knew led to the back alley.

Before the other man could say anything, Five shot one precise bullet directly into the doorknob, blasting a hole right through it, but leaving the door intact. The noise inside the tiny office was deafening but Five didn’t flinch. Instead, he thoughtfully looked the gun over again, nodded a few times, and set it back on the desk.

“So, I got the job, right?” he asked again, this time standing up and peering down at the man who was still gaping at him while sitting at his desk. Five stuck his hands in his pants pockets and waited for an answer.

“Y-yes, yeah, you got the job,” the man stuttered before clearing his throat and passing a hand over his bald head. He stared at the neatly massacred doorknob. Then he reached over and handed Five a large envelope containing all the specifics of the job. “Here you go. You start tomorrow.”

“And when do I get paid?” Five asked while taking the envelope from him.

“Uh… every Friday.”

Five nodded, already on his way to the door.  “Great.” He stopped and turned again. “I’ll need the keys to the car.”

“Oh right!” The man dug around in the desk drawer again before pulling out a set of keys. He tossed them to Five. “Here you go. Black SUV. Parked out back.” As Five caught the keys and turned to leave, his new boss spoke again. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

“I won’t,” Five answered over his shoulder as he walked out, letting the door slam shut behind him.

**************************************

Later that day, Five was poring over the documents inside the envelope. Sitting at the precariously balanced table where he once ate his mom’s smiley face pancake breakfasts, he grimaced and tipped back his third beer of the night.

“What a crock of shit,” he said to himself, his voice echoing off the bare, cement walls.

The envelope held a few documents and legally binding contracts from the security company. From what Five could gather, his new “asset” was a young ballet dancer that was requesting a private security guard for herself. From the sounds of it, she had a stalker, and despite a restraining order, she was afraid for her safety.

Enter Five.

He tossed the papers to the side and sighed, taking a look around him. God, he hated it there. He needed to get out. Even if it was some equally shitty apartment, anything was better than the Academy. 

So, if he had to put up with some stuck up ballerina princess in a frilly tutu, then he could do that. He figured if he hung in there for a couple months, played by the rules and collected his weekly pay, he’d have enough to get out of this shit hole. He just had to play his cards right, make nice, and not piss anybody off. He could do that. Piece of cake.

***************************

“Where the hell is this lady?” Five grumbled to himself as he stood outside of the black SUV the security company had assigned him. 

He was waiting outside of the address he had been given, where this supposed prestigious dancer lived. It was a giant mansion, set back off the road, with a long, winding driveway that led to the house. Five had turned into the circle drive near the front entrance, cutting off the engine and staring up at the ivy-covered stone and brick exterior. The grand, heavy oak double doors at the top of a set of wide steps were flanked by two large, snarling lion statues.

Five had sighed heavily before getting out of the car and standing next to it. He had been told not to bother knocking; that she would come out on her own at 7:00am.

He checked his watch. It was 7:06. He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the car. “Figures,” he muttered.

At 7:09, one of the doors to the house flew open, banging loudly, as you rushed out, carrying two large gym bags in one hand and a travel mug with your breakfast smoothie in the other. A set of keys dangled from your hand holding the drink, and a pair of sunglasses were perched crookedly on top of your head.

As you tried to close and lock the door behind you, you wrestled with your bags and almost spilled your drink, all while swearing and kicking at the door.

“Stupid… fucking… dumb door never wants to close… piece of shit key… who designed this…“

When you finally got the door closed and locked, you turned to face Five who had been watching all of this go down with a stunned expression. You blushed and then smiled.

“Uh… sorry,” you said nervously. You hoisted your bags up again and made your way down the steps. “The stupid door never wants to lock properly.”

Five realized, a minute too late, that he probably should have helped you with your bags. Instead, he just watched you bumbling around like some sort of cartoon character until you reached the car. You plopped the bags on the ground near Five’s feet.

With a loud exhale, you extended your hand and introduced yourself. “Hi. You must be the guy the security company sent?”

Five took your hand in his, shaking it once before dropping it again. “Five Hargreeves. Nice to meet you.” 

Five ran through a kind of inventory of you in his mind. It was a habit he held onto from his assassin days. An immediate assessment of his target.

Slim but toned. Cute face. The tight bun on top of her head is kind of cliche, but whatever. Gray sweatpants, black leotard. Nice enough rack. Scuffed up tennis shoes. A voice that isn’t too annoying. Clearly a disorganized mess though. But all in all, could be worse. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you gushed. “I couldn’t find my shoes and the blender top flew off while I was making my smoothie, so then I had to clean that up, which was super fun, and then –”

Five cut you off with a hand gesture. “It’s fine,” he said, although he didn’t look like he thought it was fine. He looked irritated.

“Ok,” you said, silently telling yourself to shut the hell up. You looked at the SUV he was standing next to. When he noticed, he seemed to remember why he was there in the first place and opened the back passenger door for you. “Thank you,” you said as you climbed in.

Five flung your bags into the trunk, making note of their weight and how you must be a lot stronger than you look to be hauling those things around. As he came around to the driver’s side, he slid in and started the engine. Before putting the car in drive, he turned in his seat to face you.

“You know, you shouldn’t be just hopping into strange men’s cars like this.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You have no idea who I am. You didn’t ask for any form of ID or other proof that I’m who I say I am. Anybody can wear a suit and drive a black SUV.”

“Oh… “ you stammered. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Well, do you have any ID?”

Five sighed. “Well, it’s kind of late for that now, isn’t it? You already got in the car. I could be driving you off somewhere to murder you, chop you up into little pieces, and dump your body parts in a field.”

You looked nervously out the window and your hand came to rest on the door handle. The doors automatically locked with a loud click and you jumped.

“See?” Five said, with his finger on the lock button. “Don’t you have a stalker that I’m supposed to be protecting you from?”

You nodded slowly.

“Well, based on this first impression, I’d say he’s pretty fucking dumb, because you are extremely easy to catch.”

Your mouth hung open and you slow-blinked as you tried to say something in your defense, but everything he was saying made sense. That, and he was kind of scaring the crap out of you.

Five reached over into the glove compartment, and pulled out a piece of paper and a plastic-covered badge attached to a lanyard. He handed them over to you.

“There. Here’s proof I am who I say I am, even though you apparently don’t care.”

You took the items from him, skimming the paper first. It was a signed document from the security agency with their official seal at the top, assigning a Number Five Hargreeves to be your personal security detail. It looked legit. Next, you studied the ID. It was a picture of Five, looking like he would rather be doing just about anything than getting his picture taken, along with his name, title, and some sort of employee number underneath it. It also bore the seal of the agency.

You handed them back to him. “Thank you, I appreciate you showing those to me. You’re right, I shouldn’t have trusted you so easily.”

Five shoved them back in the glove compartment and closed it. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

As he put the car in gear and headed down your driveway, you leaned forward in your seat. “If you’re so intent on making sure I know who you are, why aren’t you wearing your badge around your neck so that I can see it?”

There was a pause. “Because I try not to look like an asshole and wearing that badge around my neck won’t be doing me any favors.”

You sat back in your seat, grabbing your smoothie and rolling your eyes before taking a sip. Well this guy’s a real charmer, you thought to yourself. At least he’s kind of nice to look at.

Your dance studio was about thirty minutes away, and the car was awkwardly quiet as Five drove. You cleared your throat a couple times, but he seemed to ignore you.

“Do you want to turn the radio on?” you suggested.

“Not really.”

You sat there for a minute, pondering. “You know, I did do some research on you beforehand, so I’m not a complete moron. The agency had given me your name. I know you were one of the Umbrella Academy kids and that you can teleport. That must be pretty cool.”

There was no answer from the front, so you tried again. “So what was it like growing up with–”

“Reginald? Not great, actually,” Five interrupted, clearly annoyed with your question.

You bristled at his continued rudeness. “I was going to say Allison Hargreeves, the actress, actually.”

“Oh,” he said, and you saw his eyebrows furrow together in the rearview mirror. 

“I love all her movies, especially that last one she did, that rom-com?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is she nice?” you asked, still trying to break the ice.

“Is Allison nice?” Five asked in return.

“Yeah. You know, she’s so famous and high-class. I always wonder what celebrities are like in real life.”

There was a long pause before he answered. “She’s an idiot. All of my siblings are idiots.”

“Oh,” you said, sinking back in your seat. After thinking for a minute, you sat forward again. “You know, you’re not very nice.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I’m really not.”

For the next ten minutes, you gave up trying to converse with Five. But then out of the blue, he spoke up.

“So, I read about this stalker guy of yours.”

You weren’t sure if he was going to say something snarky again, so you hesitated. “Oh… ok.”

“They sent me a file on him. Sounds like a real creep. I understand why you would want to hire someone.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, relieved. “Yeah, it’s not been a fun few months, that’s for sure.”

“So what happened? He fall in love with you at a ballet recital or something?”

You let out a little snort of laughter. “Well, first of all, we don’t call them recitals… I’m not six. They are called performances or simply ballet. And yes, that’s kind of what happened. Although I wouldn’t call becoming unhealthily obsessed with someone falling in love.”

“Good point,” Five mused. “But he’s been following you to work?”

“Yes. The studio has stopped letting him in and will call the cops if he tries to, but he still sits in the parking lot in his car waiting for me to walk inside.” You shivered a little. “He just watches me.”

“You have a restraining order, though?”

“Yeah, he’s technically not allowed within a certain radius, but that radius is not very big. And if he stays on public property, there’s not much I can do about it.”

Five nodded. “Does he know where you live?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him near my house, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Does he go to your performances?”

“Yes. He’s there every single time, rain or shine, sitting in the very last row to comply with the restraining order. He’ll even come to the matinees and return for the evening performances. And he always dresses in a tuxedo and carries a bouquet of flowers that he tosses on stage afterwards.”

“That’s intense. I would imagine that might throw you off your game, knowing that he’s out there.”

“Yeah, sometimes it does,” you admitted. “Which, truthfully, is one of the reasons I wanted to hire you. If I know someone is there keeping an eye on this guy, then I might be able to concentrate on my dancing instead of worrying about what he might do.”

Five’s eyes flitted to the rearview mirror again to look at you. He had nice eyes, you noticed.

“There must be something more. Some reason this guy is freaking you out so badly.”

Your voice got quieter as you answered him. “Well, for the last few weeks he has started sending me letters to the studio.”

“He doesn’t mail them directly to your home?”

You shook your head. “No, thankfully. Now the secretary just throws them directly in the trash when they come through. But I’ve read enough to know what they say.”

“And what do they say?” Five asked.

“They… uh… they say how much he loves me and how much I have changed his life. He says he thinks about me all day and night and knows we would be happy together if I just give him a chance. That he’s not a bad guy, he just loves me so much and I’m not giving him a shot. Sometimes he gets angry because I don’t respond. Sometimes it’s just more rambling.”

“Is that all?”

He must have sensed you were holding something back, which meant he was actually listening to you and was observant.

“No, that’s not all. Sometimes they get very… graphic.”

“Graphic? Like violent?”

“No, more like… explicit.” You blushed a little. “Sexual. All the things he wants to do to me or says he is going to do to me once we are together. It’s all very detailed.” You shuddered at the thought. “It makes me sick.”

“I would imagine,” Five said with a small nod.

He didn’t say anything else on the subject and you didn’t volunteer any more information. Soon, you were arriving at your dance studio. While your first impression of Five wasn’t exactly blowing you away, you did note that he seemed to take his job seriously. When he got out and walked around to your side, he surveyed the parking lot before opening the door for you. 

You got out and looked around. When you noticed the familiar dark blue pickup truck parked in the back, occupied by a tall, thin man wearing a baseball cap, you pointed him out to Five.

“There, that’s him.”

Five nodded. “I saw him when I got out. I’ve got my eye on him.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. This is what I was hired for,” Five responded, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right. Well, can I get my bags then?”

Five hauled your bags out and handed them over to you. “I would carry them for you, but I need my hands free. Just in case.”

You understood what he was saying, and it made sense. If he needed to use a weapon, he couldn’t be carrying two bags stuffed with dance attire and water bottles. As you walked towards the door, Five accompanied you, staying close. You were always observant of how other people carried themselves, probably because you used your body as a way of artistic expression, so you were honed in on others’ body movements as well. 

Five held himself confidently, walking swiftly and with purpose. You liked how he matched your stride so that he didn’t stray too far ahead or behind. And you liked how his suit coat brushed against your arm a few times. You stole a couple of quick glances at his face while you were walking, but looked away before he could notice. There was no denying he was handsome.

When you led him inside, this observation was confirmed by the number of sideways glances and outright gawks that he received from the other dancers. Male and female. You kept your head down, embarrassed to be seen with an actual bodyguard in tow, and headed for the locker room to change. As you got to the door, you turned to Five.

“I’m not sure how this works, exactly,” you admitted. “Do you wait here? In the car?”

Five looked around curiously, taking in his surroundings. “I’ll be here, in the building. Don’t worry, I won’t get in the way. I might take a few looks outside periodically, but I won’t stray far.”

“Thank you.” You paused, remembering that you weren’t supposed to thank him. “I rehearse for six hours, though,” you added guiltily.

Five shrugged. “That’s fine. When you’re done, I’ll take you home again.”

“Alright, then,” you said with a nod and a smile. Then you walked into the locker rooms, leaving Five in the hallway.

****************************

Five waited, as he told you he would. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to hang around in a dance studio all day, but he was used to having to endure long, boring stretches of time by himself. At least in this case, there were some nice views to be had. Five tried not to be obvious, but the beautifully sculpted bodies that walked past him all day long were not going unnoticed. About halfway through the day, after Five had taken a quick survey of the parking lot, he decided to park himself in front of the window that looked into the large rehearsal room. He didn’t know much about ballet, so he was a little curious about it. 

As he stood there, arms folded across his chest, he watched as you and your fellow dancers practiced the same few steps over and over again. The director was demanding perfection each time, and from Five’s point of view, it was perfect. He couldn’t stop staring.

The fluid movements of your body had him transfixed and he kept his eyes on you, ignoring the other dancers twirling around you. You gracefully lept and flew through the air like some sort of beautiful gazelle or mythical fairy creature. You had removed your sweatpants and were wearing a black leotard with gray leg warmers, and of course your pointe shoes that allowed you to dance on your toes.

Your legs were nothing but muscle and sinew, toned and tightened by years of discipline. The way your arms bent and swayed with each movement looked easy and second nature, even though Five knew it must have been incredibly difficult. You made it all appear effortless, and Five found he was staring a little too long, because at one point you turned toward him and caught him. You gave him a small smile before returning to your work, and Five moved to a different area where he wouldn’t be tempted to watch.

On one of his wanderings, he came across photos of the dance company members lining a wall. He paused, glancing over the names and faces, casually looking for yours. It wasn’t hard to find though, because there you were, front and center. A professional headshot of you, larger than the others, was framed in the middle of the wall. Underneath was a small plaque with your name and the number of years you had been with the company. It also read “principal dancer”.

When the day was over, and you had showered in the locker rooms there and changed into clean clothes again, Five led you back to the SUV. Your stalker was still there, waiting in his blue truck, until you were inside the car and then he drove away. It was what he always did. Waited until you were finished with your day and then left. You wondered where he went or where he lived. But you also didn’t really want to know.

As Five drove you back home, it was silent for a while before he spoke up.

“What is a principal dancer?”

You were surprised at first by his question. You didn’t really think he would take an interest in anything personal having to do with you. But he must have seen your photo inside the studio.

“A principal dancer has the highest rank within the dance company,” you explained, feeling your face flush a little. “Sometimes they’re called prima ballerinas.”

Five took that in for a second. “So, you’re the best dancer?”

You laughed. “I wouldn’t say I’m the best, necessarily, but I’ve definitely paid my dues. There are many talented dancers in our company.”

“But not as good as you,” Five said. You saw his eyes glance in the mirror again. “I saw you.”

You nodded. “I saw you watching. Do you like ballet?”

“Not particularly, no,” he answered honestly. 

“Oh. Well, that’s a shame.”

“I enjoyed watching you, though,” he said, and you thought you heard his voice crack just a tiny bit as he said it. Then he cleared his throat. “Not in a stalker way. I just mean the dancing was interesting.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was more silence as the car sped along en route to your house. You couldn’t help the tiny smile that formed on your face as you looked out the window. This guy was starting to grow on you.

When you arrived home, he got out and opened the car door for you again, this time taking your bags for you as you both headed up the stairs to your front door.

You laughed nervously. “I feel like this is a date and you’re walking me home.”

Five shook his head with a slight smile. “Not a date. I’ll just make sure you get in safely and there are no signs of forced entry, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Got it.” You turned to unlock the door and then stopped, turning to face Five again. “So, there’s something you should know.”

“What’s that?”

You looked at your feet. “Well, it’s just that this house… I know it looks fancy and you probably think I’m some rich bitch snob, but… “ Five couldn’t deny that, so just waited for you to finish. “Let’s just say don’t judge a book by its cover, ok?”

Five didn’t say anything at first, until he realized you were actually waiting for a sign of acknowledgement. Then he nodded. “Ok.”

You unlocked the door and let Five step inside first. You held your breath as you watched him walk into the grand foyer and take everything in. You knew what he was probably thinking. That he couldn’t believe you lived in such a shit hole.

Five spun slowly around, looking at the open first story of your house. Once upon a time it had been a beautiful mansion. Now it resembled more of a construction zone than anything else. The walls of the massive living room that were lined with faded, gold-striped wallpaper, were half-torn down or riddled with holes. Only half of the lights worked in the house, leaving just a few old sconces on the wall flickering dimly. A sitting area on the other side of the foyer was filled with old, dusty furniture that had collected over the years that were in various states of disrepair. A grand piano sat off to the side, covered in a large sheet to keep the dust and dirt off. It was one of the only things in the house that you cherished.

You sighed and laughed quietly. “Home sweet home.”

Five looked at you curiously, his head tilted slightly to the side. He slid his hands into his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“You’re right, this is not what I expected from the outside.” He looked around again. “What happened?”

When he asked you that, you got a sense that he didn’t mean what happened to the house, but rather, what happened to you for you to end up living this way.

“This was my grandmother’s house. She grew up here and lived here her entire life. When I was little, I used to come here all the time. Even then it was starting to become a little disheveled. Nana wasn’t much of a housekeeper.” You laughed at the memory. “But she was fun and a little crazy, and she took me to my first ballet when I was five. After that, I used to dance right here in this foyer, pretending I was the star of the show, while she played the piano.”

“She paid for my first dance lessons and came to every recital. But then her mind started to go and her housekeeping skills got even worse. The house fell into disrepair over the years and she kind of just shut herself inside while it deteriorated around her. I tried to help, but after a while she didn’t remember who I was.” Your eyes filled with tears. “That was the worst part.”

“What about your parents?” Five asked.

“They’re still around, but they don’t really see my dancing as a real career. I think they still view me as a little kid playing dress up.” You shrugged. “They wanted me to be a doctor or something they could be proud of.”

Five’s eyebrows creased together. “They should be proud of you now. You’re the captain of the dance team.”

You laughed loudly, which made him crack a smile. “Principal dancer, but yeah… close enough.” You shook your head. “It’s not enough for them.”

“So, what made you end up here?”

“Well, when my grandmother died, she left all her possessions to me. She didn’t have much in the end, just a couple thousand dollars and this house. So, I decided I’d live here until I could afford to either move somewhere better or fix it up. No one wants to buy it in the state it’s in. Unfortunately, on my salary, that will take a while.”

“Dance captains don’t make good money?” Five asked with a smirk.

“Not really, no. For the amount of work we put in, our dedication, and the discipline we have for our bodies… it’s really not much. But I figure the house is free, so I might as well stay here and save up. I don’t need any place fancy, anyway.”

Five nodded, his green eyes searching your face before pushing his hair off his forehead. “I should take a look around, just to be safe. Then I’ll leave you alone for the night.”

“Ok, yeah,” you started walking further into the house. “Follow me, I’ll show you around.”

You gave Five a tour, leading him through each aging area of the house and taking him through the outdated kitchen that still, embarrassingly, contained some of the remains of your spilled smoothie from that morning. The two of you walked up the grandiose, winding staircase so you could show him each bedroom and bathroom. When you came to the master bedroom, which was the one you had taken over, you paused with a smile.

“This one might surprise you.”

You opened the double doors to the bedroom with a flourish, presenting the room to Five like it was some sort of splendid wonderment. He stepped inside with you and you gestured around.

“I decided to splurge and make this my little home within a home,” you explained.

The room was big, and you had kept your grandmother’s antique four poster bed, but spruced it up with a luxurious, light pink comforter, fluffy pillows, and a couple strings of fairy lights overhead. The dressers and vanity mirror were also original, but you had refinished them and added new, updated hardware. A small reading nook with a big, comfy armchair and bookshelves took up one corner of the room.

Five hadn’t said anything as he looked around, which made you a little self-conscious.

“So, yeah… this is where the magic happens,” you joked, laughing stupidly at yourself and then blushing.

Five just gave you a semi-amused look, but didn’t comment further.

You cleared your throat. “Here, let me show you the bathroom. This will really blow your mind.”

The en suite bathroom was the crown jewel of the house and just as large as the bedroom itself. It was the one room your grandmother had kept up and it was still beautiful.

“She loved baths,” you said as you motioned to the gigantic soaking tub that was big enough for four people.

It was surrounded by gorgeous, expensive marble tile, with a stand alone shower that was also impressive. You had lined the ledge around the tub with candles and scented soaps that you loved to use after a long day of dancing. The sink and cabinets were adorned with gold accents, but without being too gaudy. You had added plush, pink towels and other accents to give it your own flair.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Five nodded. “It’s definitely impressive. Your grandmother seemed to have good taste.”

“Yes, she did.”

After another few seconds, Five turned to you. “Is there anywhere else I need to look before I leave?”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly feeling a little stupid that you had been showing off your bathroom, when really all he wanted to know was that everything was locked up safely. “No, this is it. In terms of outside access points, anyway.”

“Just make sure you keep all doors and windows locked. Even on the second floor.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card, handing it over to you. “Here’s my number. Call me if you need anything or you suspect anything.”

“Yeah, ok. Thank you.”

With another nod, Five turned to head back out of the room. You followed him down the stairs until you were at the front door. He opened it and then turned to you again.

“You know, you really shouldn’t lead a strange man through your house like that. There were several spots where you would have been trapped with no way out if I had ill intentions.”

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously?”

Five smiled crookedly. “I’m just saying… you shouldn’t be so trusting.”

You eyed him up for a minute, trying to determine if he was making fun of you or not. You decided to see if you could rattle him a little. “And what kind of ill intentions would you be thinking of… you know… if you had any?” You put your hand on your hip and cocked it to the side. 

Five wasn’t so easily thrown off his game, though, and he didn’t even flinch at your flirty invitation. With that same half-smile he shook his head. “See you tomorrow morning.” He paused, looking back on his way down the steps as you stood in the doorway. “Same time? Or should I factor smoothie accidents into the equation?”

You laughed, despite your annoyance. “I promise I’ll be on time.”

“Good night,then,” he said, before heading to the car.

“Good night, Five.”

******************************

Chapter 2: The Letter

When Five arrived back at the Academy, he went immediately to the bar, just like he always did, and poured himself a generous glass of whatever he was in the mood for at the moment. Tonight it was bourbon. And not a bad one, either. He took a sip and sighed, letting the smokiness of the liquor burn deliciously down his throat.

Five shrugged off his jacket and vest, loosening his tie and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he sat heavily on one of the old bar stools. The house was quiet except for the occasional whistle of wind through an exposed crack, or an ominous creaking noise from somewhere within the old foundation. It all added to the overall ambiance of a haunted house that Five was starting to grow accustomed to.

As he sat there, ruminating on the happenings of the day, he spun the chipped crystal glass idly on the bartop in front of him.

He wasn’t sure what to think of you. He had been expecting a rich, stuck-up princess type, but that’s not what you were at all. Instead, you were surprisingly pleasant; and Five didn’t find most people pleasant. So, this was fairly new territory for him. During the few short interactions he had with you throughout the day, he found himself enjoying your company. Again, this was all new for Five.

He thought about how you and he weren’t that different in some ways. You were both living alone in these big, crumbling mansions that appeared impressive from the outside but were a mess on the inside. If Five really wanted to go down that road, he could make the case that your houses were metaphors for yourselves. But the last thing he wanted to do was to start analysing his psyche, so he moved on.

He found himself lost in a daydream of you dancing effortlessly and gracefully around the dilapidated halls of the Academy, just like he had seen you dance in the studio that day. In his fantasy, you were surrounded by a golden halo of light that brightened every room you passed through. What a contrast your elegance and beauty was when compared to the darkness of the mansion. He smiled at the thought.

He thought of how you had made the best of your situation and had actually carved out a space for yourself in that old house; making the master bedroom and bathroom into your home within a home. Five looked around him. He had done nothing like that. The thought had never even occurred to him. He had made the space livable, at least for his meager needs, but it was in no way a “home”. He had not decorated it with things he liked or found interesting. He hadn’t brought in any new furniture or tried to fix what was there. He had essentially made it like his camp he had with Dolores during the apocalypse. A relatively safe place to come back to every day. A place to survive.

Five then thought of your stalker. He had no sympathies for this unknown and possibly dangerous man that was obsessed with you. But he could almost see his side of things. Especially if this man had seen you dance, Five could see how that could spark some sort of unhealthy, imaginary romance. Not that he would hesitate to take that fucker out if he needed to, or that he would ever stoop to such a pathetic level himself, but still. He kind of got it.

He started taking a mental inventory of all of the access points in your house that he had noticed while you had led him around. You had told him that you didn’t think your stalker knew where you lived, but Five had his doubts. Why would this guy stop at just the studio and theater? If he was that hung up on you, then there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t have followed you home at some point. 

Again, Five’s mind wandered back to your dancing, only this time instead of the Academy, he pictured you twirling around in your beautifully marbled bathroom. The candles that surrounded the edge of the tub were lit, illuminating your face and body with flickering light. And then somehow… for some reason… Five started to imagine you in less and less clothing until you were fully nude. Your strong body and defined muscles flexed and moved with each sensual pose you demonstrated for him, all while growing closer and closer until you were right there in front of him. Your warm skin pressing against him… your soft mouth a mere inches away… 

“Five,” you whispered and god damn it if he didn’t want to drop to his knees at just the sound of his name on your lips.

“Five!”

Five jumped, startled out of his fantasy by a very real and familiar voice.

“Fivey! Hello? Where are you?”

Five groaned before tipping his head back and yelling in response. “Klaus, where the fuck do you think I am?”

Klaus sauntered into the parlor, looking around him as if he hadn’t just been there a few days ago. He spied Five sitting at the bar and he broke out in a smile.

“Oh, hey there, Fivey.”

With a roll of his eyes, Five took another drink before addressing his brother. “Klaus, I only occupy one room of this crap hole, and it’s the same room every time, so I’m not sure where your confusion is coming from.”

Klaus shrugged, joining Five at the bar and leaning over to grab one of the bottles from underneath. He unstoppered the half-full bottle of vodka and took a swig. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I like pretending we’re in an old sitcom together. You know, like ‘Honey, I’m home!’ and then you run out with an apron and heels on, carrying my favorite drink for me while I sit in an armchair and smoke a pipe.”

Five turned so that he could lean his back against the bartop. “Klaus, in what universe do you think I would be the housewife in that situation?”

Klaus shrugged again, reaching over to ruffle Five’s hair, which earned him a swat on the hand. “I’m not sure, but you’d look awfully cute in an apron.”

“God, you are disturbed.”

“Thank you!” Klaus responded happily before taking another drink. When he lowered the bottle he sighed. “So, what’s been happening around here?”

“Not much. I started that new security job you turned me on to, so thank you for that.”

“Did you? Oh, well that would make sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“My buddy, the one who is friends with your new boss and told me about the job opening, said some psychopath came in there yesterday and shot up the place. Right before demanding he be given the job.”

Five nearly choked on his drink. “What? I didn’t shoot up the place!” Klaus raised a skeptical eyebrow. Five sighed. “It was one, very tiny and very discrete shot into the doorknob of the door. I wouldn’t call that shooting up the place.”

Klaus smiled. “I see.”

“And I certainly didn’t demand the job. It was offered to me before I shot up the place.” He closed his eyes in frustration. “I mean, before I fired the single, harmless shot.”

Klaus chuckled. He loved getting under his brother’s skin. Even if that did put him at risk for bodily harm.

“So, what is this job anyway? You like a security guard at a mall or something?”

“More like a bodyguard.”

That piqued Klaus’s interest and he put his elbow on the bar, propping his head up with his hand as he smiled slyly. “Ohhh…. Tell me more about that!”

“There’s nothing to tell. She’s a dancer and she has a stalker.”

Klaus gasped dramatically. “Dancer? Like a stripper?”

Five scoffed. “No. She’s a ballet dancer.”

There was another loud gasp that prompted an irritated scowl from Five. “A ballerina! Oh, Fivey… this is like some serious romance shit! I can just picture it… the stalker tries to get to the beautiful, helpless ballerina, threatening to kidnap her or worse… but then you swoop in to save the day, knock the guy on his ass, and then guess who gets the girl?”

Klaus waited as if he expected an actual response from Five. When all he received was a blank stare, he poked Five in the shoulder. “You do, silly! No woman can resist a real life hero saving them from the clutches of the evil villain. She’ll probably reward you by immediately jumping those skinny little bones of yours. Do a little tongue pirouette on your downstairs bits, if you know what I mean.”

“Klaus, what the fuck?” Five responded, running a hand down his face in frustration.

“What? I bet she’s rich, too, huh?”

“Not really, no.”

“Oh,” Klaus answered with a disappointed sigh. Then he perked up again. “But mark my words, Fivey. When she sees what a badass killer you are, she’s going to be on you like flies on shit.”

“What a charming visual, thank you for that,” Five sighed.

“You know what I mean. She won’t be able to hold herself back.”

“First of all, stop being a pervert. Second of all, you don’t even know anything about her. I haven’t even told you what she looks like or her age or anything!”

Klaus nodded. “You’re right.” Then he grinned. “She’s hot though, isn’t she?”

Five took another drink, speaking over the top of his glass. “She is moderately attractive.”

“Ha!” Klaus exclaimed, slapping Five on the back and making him slosh his bourbon onto his good suit pants. “I knew it! Well, good for you, Broseph Stalin. It’s about time.”

“About time for what?” Five muttered while he angrily wiped at his pants with a napkin.

“About time for you to get that new and improved dick of yours wet. You’ve been keeping it sealed up for too long. Time to let that bad boy out for some air!”

“Jesus Christ, Klaus!” Five cried, throwing his hands up. “What is your fucking problem? Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“What? I’m trying to help you out!”

“Klaus, the only thing you are doing is reaffirming my decision to live alone.” Klaus put on his best pout and tried to look hurt. Five rolled his eyes before trying to change the subject. “The job pays pretty well at least, so I should be able to get out of here soon.”

Klaus looked around at the sad remains of their childhood home and nodded. Then he turned to Five with an almost nervous smile. “So, if you move out, does that mean no more drop-ins?“

Five sighed and shook his head. He reached over and patted Klaus on the shoulder, although he didn’t make eye contact. “You’re always welcome, no matter where I end up, Klaus.”

Klaus clapped his hands and tried to lean in for a hug, but was met with nothing but empty air as Five blinked away at the last second. Klaus toppled off his barstool in the process, while Five laughed at him from the other side of the bar.

“You’re an asshole,” Klaus grumbled as he hauled himself back up.

Five smirked. “Yeah, I know.”

*************************

Over the next few weeks, you and Five developed a kind of routine. He would arrive at your house and wait outside by the car every morning at 7:00am on the dot. You would stumble your way out somewhere between 7:08 and 7:15. There was the predictable exchange of Five’s irritated grumblings while you blabbered on about whatever it was that made you late that day. It would end with Five taking your bags and opening the car door, all while smiling and shaking his head at your constant state of turmoil.

You liked your little talks in the car to and from the studio. It was awkward in the beginning, but over time it became comfortable. You would chat about your work and rehearsals, and gossip about the other dancers. There was always a love tryst going on somewhere, but you stayed away from all of that. You didn’t need that drama in your life. 

“So, what about you? You never talk about a boyfriend,” Five had asked one day on the way home. You noticed the slight shift in tone when he asked you. Like he was going for an air of casualness but not really pulling it off.

“Oh, no,” you said, waving your hand in the air. “No boyfriend for me.”

“Why not?”

You paused, not really sure how you were supposed to answer that and why he wanted to know. “Well, lots of reasons I suppose. The main one is probably that I’m so busy that I don’t have time to even see my family or friends, let alone a boyfriend.”

“What about the male dancers at your studio?” Five asked, clearly not wanting to drop the subject.

You sighed. “No thank you. Most of them aren’t into women anyway, and the ones that are I have no interest in. Plus I don’t need to be dating anyone from work. I’ve got enough going on.”

Five nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “Good point.”

You leaned back against the backseat and looked out the window. Then you chuckled quietly to yourself.

“What?” Five asked.

“Oh nothing. I was just thinking that you are the closest thing I have to a boyfriend right now.”

There was a moment of silence before you saw Five swallow. “How is that?”

“Well, other than the dancers in my company, you are the person I see the most lately. You’re there when I get up in the morning, you’re there when I come home. You’re one of the only people that has seen inside my mess of a house, including my bedroom. We talk every day and know each other’s personal lives.” You laughed again. “Honestly, the only thing different is that we aren’t fucking.”

Your giggle came to an abrupt halt as you clamped your mouth shut. You don’t even know why you had said that, it just kind of came out. You worried at your bottom lip with your teeth as you tried to decide whether to say anything else to cover it up or just shut your trap and pretend it never happened.

There was a long, silent pause as the car drew to a stop at a red light. Five’s eyes met yours in the mirror and he didn’t look away.

“Well, that figures,” Five said and you saw him smirk. “I get all of the boyfriend duties and none of the perks.”

Your jaw dropped open for a second and then you let go with a loud peal of laughter. You punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“Five Hargreeves! I never knew you made jokes!”

He shrugged, his eyes returning to the road as the light turned green again. “Well, now you know. I’m a fucking comedian.”

That made you laugh even harder and you tried to suppress the smile that kept creeping up the entire ride home. And even though he tried to hide it, Five was wearing one, too.

************************

Your little naughty joke seemed to have broken the last barrier between the two of you, and after that it was like you were an old married couple. When you weren’t having deep conversations and learning about one another’s lives, you were either cracking stupid jokes at the others’ expense or bickering over the smallest things. Within the span of another two weeks, Five had somehow become your friend. And not just a casual one; he had become your number one confidant. You felt comfortable with him. You felt safe. And you were pretty sure he felt the same way about you.

Your stalker continued to show up every day to your studio, just like always. Sometimes he would get out of his truck and stand there, just watching, as you and Five made your way inside. On those occasions when you felt a little more on edge, Five would blink you directly into the building, to avoid the man being able to see you. 

You liked when he blinked you places. He didn’t do it often, but when he did it was like a little adrenaline rush and it always left you laughing. Plus, you couldn’t deny that you liked having him that close to you. He would usually just hold on to your upper arm, but sometimes he would take your hand in his. Once, for no discernible reason, he had wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in close. There had been a split second when you thought he might kiss you, but before you could even entertain that thought, you were being ripped through a portal and landing on the other side where he let go of you immediately.

Five also started spending more time outside of your rehearsal room. You would catch him through the window, trying to look like he wasn’t interested but failing. You found yourself flaunting your body just a little more when you knew he was looking. Not so much while you were dancing; that you took very seriously and were focused in. But during breaks, when you took a drink from your water bottle, and just happened to let a small river of water slip down your exposed neck and between your breasts. And when you needed to adjust your shoes and would coincidentally bend over directly in front of his sightline. It was silly, but hey, you didn’t have anything else going on in your non-existent love life, so you had to create some excitement.

While you did enjoy each other's company, your relationship never extended past Five’s security duties. Every night he made sure the house was locked up and safe, and every night he left to go back to his decrepit mansion while you stayed in yours. He had given you his number, but you had never had to use it. 

Until you got the fright of your life.

Five had left hours earlier, yet you were still awake and roaming around the spacious house. You settled into a kitchen chair, listening to the sound of the tea kettle on the stove start to come to life with bubbling water. It wasn’t loud enough yet to cover the noise you heard coming from outside, though. A noise that made you freeze like a horror-stricken statue in your seat.

It was the unmistakable sound of car tires rolling slowly up the gravel driveway to your house. The noise became louder until it stopped altogether. And then you heard a car door open and slam shut again.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself.

You hopped up, racing over to the light switch on the wall and clicking it off. Then you crawled into the living room, staying low to avoid the windows, and switched off the lamp you had been reading beside earlier. The house was now in total darkness as you listened to a pair of heavy footsteps make their way to the front door.

You held your breath as you crouched next to one of the old sofas. Maybe it was Five, you thought to yourself. Maybe he forgot something or was just coming to check on you. You rolled your eyes at your stupidness. The footsteps came to a halt near the door. There was a moment of pure terror while you waited for whatever was going to come next.

Would they break a window to get inside? Kick in the door? Would they find you huddled on the ground and put a bullet in your head? Or worse things you didn’t even want to entertain?

After a few seconds, the same footsteps began to retreat and fade further away. You heard the car door open and shut again and the tires crunch on the gravel, presumably as the car backed down the driveway. And then everything was silent again.

When the tea kettle in the kitchen came to a full boil and shrieked its alert to you, you screamed out loud, your voice echoing off the walls. You clapped a hand over your mouth, but started making your way towards the kitchen again, still on your hands and knees. Once you stood and were able to move the kettle off of the burner and silence it again, you leaned against the counter and took in a big, shaking breath.

“Holy fuck,” you cursed.

After at least another ten minutes of keeping still, there were no other worrying sounds from outside or inside, and you switched on the light in the kitchen again. After slowly making your way to the front door, you peered into the peephole. When all you saw was the dark outside and an empty porch, you breathed a sigh of relief. But, like an idiot, that wasn’t enough. Unlocking the door as quietly as possible, you opened it just a crack so that you could quickly peek outside.

There was no one there and you were about to close the door and lock it again, when something caught your eye. In the open maw of one of the lion statues on the porch was a white envelope, giving the illusion that the lion was delivering you some mail. Taking another hurried look from side to side, you leaned over to snatch it up and slammed the door shut, locking it and pressing your back against it while you caught your breath.

With trembling hands, you looked down at the letter-sized envelope in your hand. Your name was typed neatly on the front with a hand-drawn heart next to it. You made a little groaning noise and tried to blink back the tears you felt forming in your eyes.

Five. It was the first thought you had. I need to get to Five.