Overprotective Much? (Wendy and Stanford) (3)

Stanford never did care for his teenage years. They reminded him nothing but of the accident that had ruined the subsequent 40 years of both his and Stanley’s lives. As such he didn’t care much for teenagers, save for the one who worked in the Mystery Shack’s gift shop. He enjoyed her cool demeanor and go-getting attitude, and there were times they enjoyed each other’s company without so much as saying a word to each other.

Hence his reaction one late night.

Stanford came across Wendy cornered in an alleyway, his imaginative hackles raised, his footsteps announcing his presence. Three men who were obviously tourists had cornered Wendy against the back of the alley, the teen obviously trying to acting calm but was clearly uncomfortable, looking away from Stanford.

“Hey get lost!” One of the men snapped, turning to face Stanford.

“I will certainly not.” Stanford replied, his tone deadly calm. “She is late getting home, her father is awfully worried.”

“Aw, daddy set grandpa to go lookin’ for ya?’ One of the men sneered at Wendy, about to reach out for her when the click of a gun froze him in place. Ford’s blaster was pointed directly at the man closest to Wendy, his face furrowed in a vicious snarl.

“Get. Away. From. Her.”

“Or what?’ The supposed leader sneered, the other two unnerved by Stanford’s look. “You gonna shoot us with your fake gun there?”

“If you insist.” Stanford’s snarl turned into a slightly manic smile, a flash of light arching from his gun as he pulled the trigger, effectively tasing the man. As he dropped to the ground the other two looked at each other before rushing past Stanford, not even realizing Stanford had pickpocketed them in their haste to run. “Are you alright?’

“Whoa….” Wendy stared at the unconscious man on the ground, flinching a bit when Stanford offered his hand to her. The older man took a step back, about to withdraw his hand when Wendy reached forward, having realized Stanford wasn’t going to hurt her. “I-I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I have acted rather…rashly and I apologize for frightening you.” Stanford spoke softly, Wendy moving closer to his side when the man groaned, but remained still. “The police station is just a block away, I feel your father would be in a better mood if he retrieved you from there.”

“Oh right…” She looked at the crushed groceries she had gotten and sighed, staying close to Ford as he took her down the building. Wendy was still in awe at seeing Ford so protective, she had heard the rumors but discounted them at first. In fact he was so protective over her even after her father had arrived, he stood in front of her when the three were hauled in for questioning, the look in his eyes sending the three to confess in minutes.

“I’m not sure what’s happened to him, but it’s best not to question.” Stan shook his head when she told him what had happened days later, the con man restocking some of the merchandise.

“To be honest, it’s pretty cool.” Wendy shrugged. “I don’t feel nervous at night anymore, and I’m sure those guys won’t be coming back.” Stan chuckled and nodded in agreement, the two unaware of the smiling Stanford listening from the other room.