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Chapter Text

On his first day, Harry entered Thames House well before his appointed time to meet the prime minister. The building, whilst not the fortress of the Secret Intelligence Service he was used to, held a certain air of authority about it. He passed through the stone and granite archway, showing his badge to the guards.

In his usual meticulous manner, he’d left his uniform in the building, knowing he’d be here on his first day to ready himself. Opening the locker, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, exchanging it for an undershirt and a bulletproof vest that covered the multitude of scars and tattoos scattered across his torso. 

Putting on the white dress shirt and suit and tie switched his mind into its proper mode. He squared his shoulders and took a breath before leaving the changing room to procure a gun.

“Glock and two magazines, please.” He flashed his firearms identification card at the man behind the counter, signing out the weapon before loading it and placing it in its holster. 

His earpiece remained around his neck until he arrived at Westminster to wait outside for Prime Minister Tomlinson to appear out of the building. Once there, he placed it in his ear and checked to be sure all communications were in working order. He and another personal protection officer stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the doors and surveilling the area.

“There’s the principal now.” The PPO nodded his head briefly at the contingent leaving the building. “Put him in the first car today, but we switch them up day to day. His driver is Jeff and his current PPO walking beside him is Calvin.”

He and the officer approached the men walking out of the building, and Harry finally got a good look at the man he’d be protecting. The prime minister immediately struck him as a man with a powerful air about him. He’d often seen him on the telly of course, but to be in his presence was something else entirely. 

Prime Minister Tomlinson had retained much of his youthful good looks for a man in his fifties, although his hair had grown noticeably greyer over the years. The wrinkles by his eyes might have fooled anyone but his adversaries into believing this was a man prone to smiling and laughter, but the man walking towards him in a strong stride looked anything but friendly. Harry set his jaw.

“Sir,” the PPO greeted the prime minister.

“Jack.” 

“This is Agent Harry Styles, your new protection officer.”

The prime minister stopped at this information, turning to face them in a wide legged stance.

Piercing blue eyes met his as Harry extended a hand to the prime minister. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. I was hoping to discuss using a different exit and entrance from now on, perhaps one less prominent.”

The PM’s eyes flashed for just a moment. “I’m late for a meeting back at my office.”

Harry stared after him as he walked towards the cars parked at the kerb. 

“He needs to be seen.” Harry turned towards the voice, recognising the face of Niall Horan, the prime minister’s current Director of Communications. “I admit I’ve put him up to it. Makes for good PR moments at times.”

“It also makes him an easy target.”

Director Horan shrugged, but kept an easy smile on his face. “I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.”

With one more glance around the area, Harry escorted the PM into the first car, climbing into the passenger seat alongside the driver. As Jeff drove the streets toward 10 Downing Street, he kept his eyes focused on any possible dangers, constantly surveilling the surrounding cars and glancing into the mirrors to give him a look at everything around them.

As they passed through the gates blocking off Downing Street, he knew most any danger would have passed, but he also knew better than to let down his guard. He walked alongside the PM and stood inside the busy office space as Prime Minister Tomlinson closed himself in with a few other politicians Harry recognised from the file . Harry found himself taking a careful look at each person in the vicinity. It would be best if he could be able to identify each one of them if need be. 

The next meeting took them out of Downing Street and to the Home Office, keeping them all out until after nightfall. Whilst more difficult at night, Harry kept a close watch on the cars surrounding them as they headed back to the PM’s residence for the night.

As the PM took a call, Harry turned to the driver. “Take Great Peter Street to Abingdon.”

“Just a moment, Zayn.” The prime minister held the mobile away from his mouth. “Jeff has been driving me for years. I trust he knows the best way back to Downing Street from the Home Office.”

“Sir, due to the current threat level I’ve assessed that a diversion is needed for the time being.”

“And how much longer will that take?”

“I can’t say for certain, sir.”

“I need to be back at my residence. Jeff, just take our regular route.”

Harry turned to look back at the PM, keeping his voice calm. “Sir, if you don’t mind, it’s my job to keep you safe. I won’t ever tell you how to do your job.”

The small twist of the prime minister’s lips surprised him. “No, but you’re set on making my job harder, aren’t you?”

“Just trying to make it safer, sir.” He nodded at Jeff who turned onto Great Peter Street. 

By the time they made it back to the residence, the irritation the PM felt for taking a few extra minutes to return was palpable. Harry opened the door, and the prime minister strode towards the residence without giving Harry even a glance. He walked him to the doors, nodding at the armed guards stationed just outside. 

One firm knock had the guards from inside the door opening it and ushering them into the foyer. 

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting here, sir, as I sweep the house.”

By the look on Prime Minister Tomlinson’s face, he did indeed mind as he stood stiffly beside the guards, his hand grasping his briefcase more tightly than necessary. He knew he was pissing off his principal, but his job wasn’t to keep the PM happy, it was to protect him.

As he passed from room to room, swiftly but thoroughly, he heard the prime minister call back his Chief of Staff. “Yes, Zayn, I've finally arrived back. Mind calling for a take away?”

As he walked into a bedroom, he heard footsteps that somehow managed to sound annoyed, which could only mean the prime minister had not followed his instructions.

“May I ask what it is you think you’re doing?” 

A small prickle of sensation ran up Harry’s spine, which he instantly banished. He didn’t answer the question as he’d already said exactly what he had been doing. “Where does this door lead?”

“My study.” 

Harry opened the door and walked inside, checking behind the desk before walking back to the prime minister, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m meeting with my Chief of Staff if you wouldn’t mind fucking off. No offense.”

“None taken,” he replied and simply walked into the adjoining room, checking it quickly before taking a look at the window and at what angle it looked down onto Downing Street. His eye caught on a small table where a small framed photograph sat. It was of the Prime Minister alongside his wife and an older man who looked vaguely familiar.

“How much longer is this going to take?”

“As long as it takes me to check each room of the residence , sir.”

The prime minister sighed and pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. “Carry on then. As quickly as possible, please.”

When he had completed his sweep of the residence, he found the Prime Minister at a table in the den with Zayn Malik beside him, a file open on the surface between them. Clearly Zayn had still been next door working when the prime minister called. 

“All done, sir. Have a good evening.”

“Wait,” the prime minister called out just as Harry had turned to go. “Zayn here says you’re Agent Styles?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The former MI6 agent who prevented the train bombing in Manchester. That was you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Prime Minister Tomlinson sighed and glanced at Zayn, before looking him in the eye. Harry had stared down some of the most ruthless criminals in the world, but he’d be lying if he said that the prime minister’s stare didn’t unnerve him, though he had the proper training to hide it. 

“It’s been a very long day. I apologise if we got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

The prime minister stood from his chair and extended a hand, a bit of a self-deprecating smile on his face, just enough to cause the corners of his eyes to wrinkle. This man was far more dangerous to Harry’s peace of mind than any man he had ever met. “Can you forgive me?”

As Harry shook the prime minister’s hand, smaller in his grasp than he’d anticipated, his gaze caught on the way the PM’s long eyelashes left a shadow on his face with the backlit light. He was fairly certain he’d never in his life noticed someone’s eyelashes before. “Of course, sir.”

“Truly, I’ve been a proper wanker.”

“All is forgiven, sir.”

As he exited 11 Downing Street and into the cool London night, Harry finally knew why Director General Payne had been so desperate for him to take on this job. Keeping Prime Minister Tomlinson safe looked to be a real pain in the arse.