Title: "Locked & Loaded" Pairing: Karl Urban/Helen Mirren (unrequited) Rating: PG Disclaimer: Never happened. Summary: Karl prided himself on being a professional. Notes: For Urbancate for this prompt post. Karl was used to working with beautiful people. He'd been in the business a long time, and even though he wasn't a household name (yet, he kept telling himself, yet), he'd managed to eke out a pretty impressive resume. He'd worked with Oscar winners and nominees, Emmy winners, people who routinely made the top of the year Most Beautiful lists, and had still managed to keep his cool, maintain his composure. He wasn't the type to fall in love or lust at the drop of a hat. He knew that beauty could be a shield as well as a curse. But standing under the glare of the hot New Mexico sun at a shooting range that had definitely seen better days, Karl was pretty sure that his much vaulted self-control was about to be tested to its limits. Hell, he pretty much dared any man to look at Dame Helen friggin' Mirren confidently and competently field stripping an AK-47 and not sport wood. Because, honestly, this was probably the hottest thing he'd ever seen. But, he was a professional. He could keep it together until he found the time (and privacy) to take care of the pressing problem (pun intended) currently making its uncomfortable presence known behind his too-tight zipper. He was just congratulating himself on a job well done when Helen glanced up, as if hearing his thoughts. Her wink was lewd, lascivious, and so cheeky that Karl couldn't help the laugh even as he thought to himself that he was in way over his head with this one. Strangely, the thought didn't bother him that much. If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!