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I saw this picture and tried to write a short piece around it.
Trembling with frustration and barely repressed anger, he stares at her, fingers gripping tight hold of his jacket, as he struggles with himself, to not just grab hold of the slender woman and run like hell in the other direction. Out of sight of the men pursuing him, and get her to safety. “What the hell are you doing here?” the words come finally after she fixes him with bright and inquisitive eyes.
“I’m your back up.” she removes a well cared for Glock from her waist holster. He scoffs at the sight of the weapon, and her face darkens for a second. “What?”
“You ever fired that thing?” he laughs.
“Plenty of times. Particularly when I’m facing that especially terrifying creature,” she looks down, checking that the gun is fully loaded before meeting his eyes again. He can see no trace of the amusement that was there before. “The oversexed twenty something man,” He opens his mouth to attempt to retort, but doesn’t get the chance, she aims right at him, and he flinches, glad that his eyes are shielded by the sunglasses, so that she can’t see that he’s closed them. The shot rings out, deafening in the quiet stretch of desert, and a small part of him is surprised that he’s still alive, hearing a body drop behind him. He spins to see that she’s dropped one of his pursuers with a shot right in the centre of his chest. “Let’s go.” He follows her without question.
Musings of a thirtysomething woman 