Honor 04 - Honor Guards

by Radclyffe

  "Hi," Blair said quietly, an edge of exhaustion in her voice. After a few seconds hesitation, she stepped closer and reached for Cam's hand. "Thanks for coming."

  "How's it going?" Cam asked cautiously. Now that Blair was nearer, Cam noticed that there were deep shadows beneath her eyes and that their usual vibrant blue was dull with fatigue. The fingers that loosely clasped her own trembled slightly. With her free hand, Cam gently lifted Blair's chin until their eyes met. "You look beat."

  "I've been working pretty much nonstop since we got back." Blair gestured over her shoulder toward her studio at the far end of the loft. "I finished two more canvases."

  "Are you happy with them?" Cam felt as if she were walking across a minefield in the dark. There was a barrier between them as tangible as a stone wall, and she didn't know how to breach it. The separation, so real she could almost touch it, produced a nearly unbearable ache in her chest.

  "Yes, I am. I think." Blair sighed and unconsciously rubbed at the headache that pounded between her brows. "I am pretty tired, I guess. I'll show you what I've done later, if you like."

  "I'd like that very much." Cam drew Blair across the room to the sitting area. It was a testament to the depth of Blair's fatigue that she didn't protest when Cam guided her down to the sofa and then sat beside her. "I was starting to worry. You've been pretty quiet since we got back."

  Uncharacteristically, Blair looked away. When she spoke again, she focused on their joined hands, which rested on the soft leather between them. "I called you because I need to go back to DC tomorrow."

  Cam grimaced. "What is it this time? Lucinda or some other West Wing command performance?"

  "Neither," Blair said in a subdued voice. "I have an appointment at Walter Reed Hospital tomorrow afternoon."

  It took a moment for the words to register, and then Cam's blood turned to ice. "Why?"

  Blair raised her eyes to Cam's. "I found a lump in my breast."

  A million voices screamed inside Cam's head. Jesus, how long have you known? How could you wait to tell me? This isn't happening—not to her, not to us. Oh God, baby, are you scared? Christ, how am I going to fix this. And loudest of all, the desperate entreaty: Please, please don't let anything happen to her.

  Throat so dry the words sliced her flesh as she spoke, Cam asked, "When? When did you...find it?"

  "Monday morning..." Blair swallowed, struggling to fight back the terror. In some part of her mind, she had always known this was possible. Perhaps even probable. After all, she could recite the statistics from memory. But numbers and probabilities were so very different than the reality. Still, she reminded herself that this thing inside her could be nothing. And even if it was what she feared, she knew, too, of all the progress that had been made in treatment since her mother had been diagnosed. Since her mother had died. But despite what she knew, the experiences forged in childhood and burnished by loss rode roughshod over any rational thought, and all she could see was her mother's face and her father's sorrow. "I noticed it while I was showering."

  "Why didn't I feel it?" Cam's words were more self-recrimination than question. Jesus, why didn 't I know?

  "It might be nothing," Blair said, forcing optimism into her voice. "It's probably nothing. It's just..it has to be checked."

  "Of course." Cam edged closer on the sofa and placed her hand gently on the small of Blair's back. Their thighs lightly touched, and their hands, still clasped, remained joined. "Which side?"

  Wearily, Blair rested her head on Cam's shoulder. "The left."

  The left. I touch you there all the time. Why couldn't...why didn't I feel it? If I had, would it have made a difference? Does it make a difference now? Oh, Christ. What does this mean? Cam feathered a kiss into Blair's hair and moved her hand up to cup Blair's neck, smoothing her fingers up and down the rigid muscles along her spine. "Can I...can I feel it? Will it hurt you if I do?"

  "No," Blair rasped. "It won't hurt." She leaned her head back into Cam's palm, grateful for the strength in the long tender fingers. She searched Cam's eyes and saw something she'd never seen before, something she knew Cam would never let her see if she'd known it was apparent. Fear. She lifted a hand and stroked Cam's cheek. "It's all right."

  Swiftly, Cam turned her face and pressed her lips to Blair's palm. "I know, baby. I know."

  "I'm sorry I worried you."

  Cam shook her head. "It's all right." She drew Blair close. "I wish you would have told me sooner...right away."

  "I wanted to. I tried to." Blair's voice held a hint of confusion. "I just couldn't make myself say it." She shook her head. Her grip on Cam's fingers tightened. "That sounds crazy, doesn't it? I'm not naive. I knew it wasn't going to go away. I just wanted to come home and paint."

  "Can we go into the bedroom?" Cam was desperate to hold her. Really hold her. She ached to shelter her, to somehow put herself between Blair and anything that could hurt her. She knew how to do that in the world outside these rooms. She trusted in her ability to keep Blair safe. But this...how did she protect her from this? She'd never felt so helpless or so frightened in her life—not even when she'd watched her father's car burn after the explosion, because she'd known, as much as she'd wanted to deny it, that he was already gone. "I want to hold you."

  "Yes. God, Cam, I've missed you so much."

  Cam fingered the Handie-Talkie on her belt. "Stark?"

  "Yes, Commander?"

  "You're in charge of the detail. I don't want any calls put through to me or Ms. Powell for any reason other than a Priority One."

  "Yes, Commander," Stark snapped.

  Thumbing the off button on the radio, Cam stood and guided Blair up. Arms around each other, they walked to the bedroom.

  By the side of the bed, Cam swiftly shed her jacket and shoulder harness. As she reached to unbuckle her belt, she said, "Let's get into bed."

  Wordlessly, Blair loosened the drawstring at her waist and pushed down the cotton pants. She hesitated only a second before grasping the hem of her T-shirt and drawing it off over her head. Naked, she slipped under the covers and held them back for her lover to join her.

  Cam settled on her side beneath the sheets and faced Blair. "Show me where it is."

  Blair took Cam's hand and drew it to her breast, pressing her fingers gently over a spot on the upper outer aspect of her left breast. "Here."

  Carefully, Cam circled her fingertips over Blair's smooth skin. After a moment, she felt an area the size of a nickel that was firmer than the surrounding tissue. Hoarsely, she asked, "Is that it?"

  "Yes."

  It seems so small. That can't be anything, can it? Cam leaned down and kissed Blair's breast directly over the tiny mass. "I love you, Blair." Then she lay back and drew Blair into her arms, guiding Blair's head to her shoulder. With her arms wrapped tightly around her lover, she pressed her cheek to the top of Blair's head. "What should I do to help you?"

  "Will you stay with me tonight?"

  "Every night." Cam's voice was fierce. Let protocol be damned. Let the media and the Treasury Department and the White House be damned. Nothing is going to keep me from Blair's side. Not now, not ever again.

  Blair felt Cam tremble and heard the rage simmering beneath the surface. She drew her leg over Cam's thigh and fit herself more closely to the curve of Cam's body. She feared the anger was with her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away."

  "No," Cam rasped, closing her eyes tightly against the tears of anguish and fury. "I understand. You have nothing to apologize for."

  Blindly, Blair reached up and pushed her fingers into Cam's hair, drawing her head down for a kiss. With the first touch of their lips, she felt the terrible weight lift from her spirit and sensed the strength returning to her soul. With a small sob of joy and welcome she gave herself to the tender caress of Cam's mouth on hers. Their touch spoke of joining and belonging and trust, and Blair drank of their union until the pain loosed its hold on her heart. With a sigh, she settled her cheek once more again
st Cam's shoulder. "I didn't realize how much I needed you. Not until just this moment."

  "You won't forget that, will you?" Cam stroked Blair's hair. "I can't bear to be away from you. Not just now. Ever."

  Blair was silent, wondering how it was that she believed those words. Wondering why she trusted that Cam would not leave her, no matter what came. Is this what love truly is? Believing without question? Knowing beyond doubt?

  "I never thought about not telling you. I never thought that you wouldn't be here for me," Blair's voice held a hint of wonder. "That's because I know you love me."

  "I do," Cam murmured, turning her face into Blair's hair to hide the tears she could not hold. "I do, Blair. With everything I am "

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  23 August 2001

  C am lay awake, the first hints of sunlight streaking through the skylights onto her face. Blair lay curled against her, her head on Cam's chest, one arm and a leg thrown possessively across Cam's body. Miraculously, Blair had fallen asleep shortly after seven the previous night and had slept soundly for almost ten hours. Cam, however, had barely dozed. As the light had slowly seeped out of the loft and darkness taken its place, she had stared at the ceiling, stroking Blair's hair, listening to her soft, even breathing, and concentrating on the heat of her lover's body against her skin.

  It seemed impossible that only a few days before, she and Blair had stood together in the White House declaring their love for each other and contemplating a future, speaking of marriage. She wondered why those moments seemed so much less real than the awareness that she could lose everything in the fragile time between two heartbeats. Why loss seemed so much more possible than happiness. Cam sighed and gently kissed Blair's forehead.

  No point in asking questions that can't be answered.

  Eyes closed, Blair drew her hand up Cam's body until it rested between her breasts and softly stroked the center of her chest. "Don't worry so much. Not yet."

  "It's hard not to, but," Cam tightened her hold, "I'm reminding myself of all the positives—that you're young and it's probably nothing too serious; if it is serious, it's treatable; and most importantly," she kissed Blair's temple, "I know you, and you're a winner."

  "I love you," Blair murmured softly, tracing her fingertips along Cam's collarbone. "I asked Diane to come over yesterday so we could catalog the paintings for the show. I didn't know I was going to tell her about this until she was here."

  Cam continued to stroke Blair's shoulder and back—long, smooth, tender strokes. "It bothered me, at first, thinking that you didn't tell me right away and that you'd told Diane first."

  "Cam—"

  "It's okay," Cam said quickly, meaning it. "The most important thing is that you know that you're not alone, and that..." She stumbled as she worked to steady her voice, "we love you."

  "If you only knew how much I need you."

  "I'm here."

  At 5:00 a.m., Cam ran north along her familiar jogging route into Central Park. She ran automatically, mindlessly, the rhythmic sound of her feet meeting earth a distant partner to the pain that thundered through her with each pulse of her blood. Her pace was faster than normal, but she was unaware of her breath rasping harshly in and out of her chest or the cramps knotting her overworked muscles. By the time she reached the reservoir and started around, her head was light from oxygen hunger and her limbs shook with the buildup of lactic acid.

  She'll be fine. She has to be fine. Nothing will happen to her. I won't let it. God, how can I stop it? What can I do? What can I... how can I...this can't be happen —

  Gasping, Cam vaulted off the path into the thick underbrush that bordered the jogging trail, braced herself with one arm against a tree trunk, and vomited until her stomach muscles gave out. Then she turned and slid to the ground, her back scraping against the rough bark. She leaned her head back and watched the early morning sun dapple the canopy of leaves overhead. With hands that shook, she fumbled her water bottle from the pack around her waist and rinsed the taste of fear from her mouth. When her vision cleared, she pushed herself upright and headed back at a steady pace to her duty and to the woman who was her destiny.

  Stark pressed close to Renee's back, one arm around her waist and her face pressed to the soft spot between Renee's spine and shoulder blade. She kissed the warm skin and murmured, "Five more minutes?"

  "We should get up," Renee sighed, pushing her hips back into the curve of Stark's body. "Mmm. God, you feel good."

  "Uh-huh," Stark mumbled, caressing Renee's stomach. "I do."

  Renee murmured contentedly. It was the second morning they had awakened together, and it felt as unfamiliar and as exciting as it had the day before. "I like the way you do this."

  "What?"

  "Snuggle."

  "Snuggle?" Stark's voice held a note of uncertainty. "That doesn't sound very sexy."

  Renee laughed quietly and drew Stark's hand to her breast. Her breath ..caught as Stark's fingers closed around her nipple, tugging lightly. "Oh, but it is. There's something very sexy about the way you hold me."

  "Everything about you is sexy." Stark rubbed her cheek against Renee's shoulder and then lifted up to kiss a spot just below her ear. "And you smell really good, too."

  Renee turned onto her back and drew Stark down upon her. She fit a leg between Stark's and lifted her hips. The teasing touch on her breast had made her wet, and she knew that Stark would feel it. She smiled, a slow pleased smile, as she saw Stark's eyes widen at the first touch. "Feel me?"

  "Oh, yeah," Stark said breathlessly. Her heart pounded like a wild thing trying to escape from her chest and all she could think, feel, sense was Renee—everywhere. Filling her mind and her heart and her body with wonder and desire. "I want to make you come."

  "We have to get ready for work." Renee squeezed her thighs around Stark's leg, teasing them both. Then a trembling began deep in the pit of her stomach and she knew she would need to stop soon or come.

  "Give me five minutes," Stark insisted. She kissed the corner of Renee's mouth, then flicked her tongue over the surface of Renee's lips. "Come on. Five. Minutes."

  Renee ran her fingers through Stark's hair, laughing shakily. "Take ten."

  Smoothly, Stark pushed down on the bed until she rested between Renee's legs. Gently curling her arms beneath Renee's thighs, she lowered her head and eased her lover into her mouth.

  Then she took her time, because some things were too precious to hurry.

  At 0700, Cam walked into the command center one floor below Blair's penthouse apartment. After her run, she'd showered in her own apartment diagonally across the square from Blair's building and dressed in her customary tailored dark suit and slightly paler shirt.

  Like Blair's loft, the area housing the command center was a single open space. Workstations enclosed by aluminum-rramed gray partitions occupied the central area, a monitoring station crammed with computers, monitors, and communication links to all of New York City's emergency service offices filled the near end of the room, and a glass-enclosed conference area was located at the opposite end. Per routine, Cam strode to the head of the table in the conference room and remained standing while she addressed the agents gathered for the morning briefing.

  "There will be new shift assignments beginning today." She waited while the agents shuffled through their papers to find the week's itinerary. "The following agents will be assigned to the first team until further notice—Stark, Davis, and Parker. Stark is lead. Second team will be Fielding, Foster, and Reynolds. The rest of you will be assigned to shifts as the schedule demands. Mac will coordinate as usual."

  Cam had had only a few minutes to glance through the daily reports, including the routine intelligence reports. She looked to Mac. "Anything pertinent in the dailies?"

  "No, ma'am," Mac replied. He was too experienced to ask her anything about the assignment changes during the main briefing. She would tell him privately what he needed to know. He also knew better than to ask her what had pu
t the shadows in her eyes or the subtle tremor in her hands.

  "Good," Cam said abruptly. "Mac, we need to be in DC by 1100 today. I'll be in the Aerie. Make arrangements for the team at the usual hotel and call me when you have the flight details. Leave the return date open."

  "Yes ma'am."

  "Thank you. That's all." Cam turned around and walked swiftly through the command center to the outer hallway and keyed the private elevator that led to Blair's apartment.

  When she knocked, Blair answered immediately. She wore the royal blue robe that Cam had first seen her in, and, like that first day, her hair was down and wilding around her face. Despite the stress of the last three days, Blair's eyes were clear and her full lips their usual sensuous deep rose. She was the most inspiring woman Cam had ever seen. Love, wonder, need, fear—every emotion that Blair invoked boiled within her.

  As the door swung closed behind her, Cam framed Blair's face in her hands, her fingers drifting into the thick golden curls. She lowered her head and smoothed her tongue over the surface of Blair's lower lip before gently sliding inside. As the kiss deepened from greeting to urgency, Cam felt Blair's arms wind around her waist beneath her jacket and Blair's body press tightly to her own. She groaned faintly and swayed against the onslaught of sudden desire.

  Blair gripped Cam's back fiercely, her hips rocking from side to side between Cam's spread legs. She pulled her mouth away, gasping. "You make me feel so much. So alive."

  Without realizing it, Cam tightened her grip in Blair's hair, tilting her head back as she dragged her teeth down the side of Blair's neck. She hungered for her, not just physically, but in the far reaches of her being, with a need as critical as breathing. She dipped her tongue into the hollow at the base of Blair's throat and murmured, "You're everything."

  "Don't stop," Blair whispered, her plea almost a prayer. She pulled Cam's shirt from her waistband and smoothed her hand over Cam's spine, then around her side and onto her abdomen. The muscles beneath her fingers rippled and tightened and her own body quickened. Head thrown back, eyes closed, she moaned as Cam's mouth moved down the center of her chest. She felt the air cool on her hot breasts, as her robe fell away. "Yes."