A.N. I do not own Flashpoint, nor do I profit from the characters. I merely use them for my own enjoyment. There will be mild to medium swearing throughout.

His earnest blue eyes held her gaze. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

Her whispered "Okay" was barely audible.

"Now up you go." He lifted her as high onto the shelves as he could. The moment he was no longer supporting her, she felt panic rising. She forced it down viciously. Her hero was counting on her. He couldn't be watching out for her while stopping these men. She reached the very highest shelf more than twenty feet in the air, and, to her dismay, found that the boxes took up too much room; she couldn't fit behind them. Refusing to give up she continued until she was on the very top of the shelves instead, and lay down flat. She trembled, feeling very exposed and wishing he was there to give her a comforting embrace. Steeling herself, she rolled over onto her stomach to look down at the man who had saved her life today more times than she could count, and who was about to risk his life to save countless more. She gave him a thumbs up, which he returned along with a brilliant, warm smile of encouragement, then she watched him silently move down the aisle and out of her sight. She prayed that would not be the last time she saw him. As she rolled over onto her back again, away from the edge, something caught her eye. Where she had been lying on her stomach moments ago the white shelves were stained red. With blood. She glanced down at her red shirt and sure enough, there were blotches that were darker. Closing her eyes and remembering hugging the man in her moment of fear, she dropped her head back onto the shelves and, for the first time in her twelve year old life, she used a swear word. "Dammit, Sam!"