Honor Guards

by Radclyffe

  "Sexy?" Renee shook her head with a fond smile. "I'll tell you what's sexy. Sexy is you lounging around in that robe with nothing on under it and most of you on display. Come on, have a little mercy—I have to leave for work in five minutes."

  Stark followed her lover's gaze down her body and grinned. "You can't see anything."

  "Sweetie," Renee said in a threatening tone as she stalked closer to the bed. "I don't need to see—I know what's underneath. Being reminded is what's dangerous." She leaned over and kissed Stark on the mouth, finishing with a small nip to her lower lip before straightening up,

  Eyes slightly unfocused, Stark let out a shaky breath. "I don't think that was a very nice thing to do. Now I'm totally excited."

  Renee slipped into her jacket and pocketed her badge. "Good. Think of me today."

  "As if I wouldn't anyway," Stark mumbled. She closed her 6 yes and lay back on the bed, listening to the soft sound of Renee's laughter lingering in the air.

  0730 27Aug01

  Delray Beach, Florida

  Report - Strike Team Two. Confirm departure point: Boston. United Airlines Flight 175 to Los Angeles. Target: NYC. Two one-way, first-class tickets booked at a cost of $4500.00 each; contact address Delray Beach, Florida.

  0910 27 August 2001

  Blair set down her brush at the sound of a knock on her door and glanced at the clock. She'd been working since five a.m. in a faded red T-shirt and jeans, her hair tied back with a blue bandanna. She pulled the bandanna from her hair and wiped her hands on the way to the door. Out of habit, she checked the peephole and saw her lover on the other side. Quickly, she released the locks and pulled open the door. "Hi. You're early."

  "Did you hear anything yet?" Cam stepped inside and waited for Blair to close the door before kissing her. "I finished the briefing early...well, actually I started the briefing early. I didn't want to miss Saunders's call."

  "Nothing yet. We might not even get the test results today." She took Cam's hand and led her to the breakfast bar. "Sit down. I'll get you some coffee. Have you eaten?"

  Cam shook her head. "Just coffee is fine."

  Blair narrowed her eyes. Cam had never looked anything less than 100 percent fit, even when she' d barely been recovered from a near-fatal gunshot wound. Now, her color was ashen, fatigue lines etched her cheeks, and her normally vibrant voice was tinged with weariness. "Cam, have you eaten anything?"

  "I'm not really—"

  "We haven't even been back two days, and I'm going out of my mind," Blair said, her tone low and edgy. "If I could have you around all the time, I probably wouldn't want it. But not being able to have you around all the time is destroying my concentration. And sleeping without you..." She held up her hands in frustration. "Now I have to worry that you're not taking care of yourself."

  "I'm sorry," Cam said quietly.

  Blair stopped abruptly, the coffee carafe in her hand poised over the glazed blue mug that sat alone in the middle of the white tiled counter. "Which part of all of this is keeping you awake at night?" What is tearing you apart?

  A muscle in Cam's jaw jumped.

  "We haven't talked about what we'll do if the tests come back positive," Blair said evenly as she poured the coffee and then passed the mug to her lover. "We haven't talked about the fact that sooner or later, I'm likely to develop breast cancer." She met Cam's eyes, her own sad. "I haven't asked you what this is doing to you. I'm sorry."

  "Blair—" Cam said, starting to rise.

  "No." Blair held up a hand. "Stay on the other side of the counter. Something happens to my reason when you touch me."

  Although her eyes were dark, Cam's lips twitched in a fleeting grin. Then she took a long breath as concern eclipsed the humor in her expression. "If the tests come back negative, then it won't be much different for you than for any other woman, right? Breast cancer is something we all have to think about. You'll just have to be vigilant—self-examination, routine mammograms, checkups with the doctor—SOP."

  Silently, Blair nodded, watching Cam's face intently. Cam was so very good at being strong. It wasn't an act. But sometimes, that strength shadowed her pain so well that even Blair could miss it.

  "And if the tests come back positive," Cam continued steadily, "we'll do whatever you decide."

  "You know what the recommendations are if I have the gene, don't you?"

  "Yes." For the last day and a half, when she hadn't been working, Cam had been reading everything she could find on the Internet about breast cancer. She understood that with Blair's family history, if her lover turned out to have the gene for breast cancer, the likelihood was extremely high that she would develop the disease—possibly an aggressive form—before her fortieth birthday. She understood, too, that many authorities recommended bilateral mastectomies to prevent that. "I know about the surgery."

  "How would you feel if I decided to do that?"

  "Is that what you want to do?"

  Blair shook her head. "You're so damn good at taking care of me that sometimes I don't even realize it. I want to know how you feel." For the first time, she reached across the counter and took Cam's hand, linking their fingers. "Let me be the comfort for you that you are for me."

  In a gesture so rare that Blair's heart turned over, Cam broke eye contact and lowered her head. With a trembling hand, she covered her eyes.

  "Oh God," Blair uttered, moving quickly around the counter. She wrapped her arms around Cam's shoulders and with one hand, guided Cam's face against her breasts. She kissed the top of her lover's head. "Sweetheart, it's okay."

  Eyes tightly closed, Cam held on, her fingers spread over the strong muscles of Blair's back. "I don't know what to do. I can't stand to think of anything hurting you."

  The words came so quietly that Blair had to strain to hear them. Cam's heart thundered against her, and she felt the tension ripple through Cam's body. "Nothing is hurting me now." She spread her fingers into the thick hair at the back of Cam's neck and gently tugged her head back. The anguish in Cam's eyes brought a flood of tears to her own. "If I need to have the surgery, I can handle the pain. I'm pretty sure I can even handle the...results." She brushed at Cam's hair with her fingertips. "I don't think I can stand it if it changes anything between us."

  Swiftly, Cam surged upright, bringing their bodies into full contact, her arms still tight around Blair's waist. "There is nothing that will ever change how much I love you." She kissed Blair tenderly, but her body trembled with fierce urgency. When she drew her mouth away, she whispered hoarsely, "Not one scar, not two, not a hundred will ever make you less beautiful to me."

  Blair pressed her face to Cam's neck, sliding her hands beneath Cam's jacket, fitting herself to every inch of her lover's body. Voice muffled, she murmured, "I need you so much."

  "I need you, too." Cam kissed the wisps of hair at Blair's temple. "I should've stayed with you this weekend."

  "I know. We'll figure out how to make this work." Having Cam next to her, sensing their love healing their shared pain, Blair felt her heart lift. With a small laugh, she added, "But at least I got work done."

  "Well, I'm glad to hear that. " Cam eased a hand under Blair's T-shirt and dipped her fingers beneath the back of Blair's jeans circling her fingertips in the small hollow at the base of Blair's spine.

  "Mmm." Blair kissed Cam's neck, then the undersurface of her jaw, then a spot just below her ear. She smiled when Cam's heartbeat raced hard against her breast. Thighs pressed tightly to Cam's, she leaned back in her arms. "I missed you, though."

  "Did you?" Cam shifted until her thigh rested between Blair's. "Did you suffer?"

  "Sexual frustration can be sublimated, you know." Blair gripped Cam's shirt and pulled it from her trousers, then walked her fingers up Cam's bare abdomen. The muscles twitched beneath her fingertips and her own stomach clenched. "I got a lot of work done."

  Cam's vision wavered. With the sudden swell of desire came the crushing need to keep Blair close, safe, hers. It took ever
y ounce of Cam's willpower to fight back the aching urge to strip down, tear apart-— destroy— every single barrier that threatened to separate them. Their clothing was the most accessible, but it was the intangible, the things she couldn't get her hands around or her body in front of, that were driving her crazy. Rumor, innuendo, public opinion—if those things weren't amorphous enough—now the specter of a lethal killer inside her lover's body stalked her waking and sleeping moments.

  "Jesus, Cameron, you're shaking all over." Passion gave way to concern, and Blair pulled away a fraction.

  "No," Cam protested. "Please, don't go."

  "Oh, darling," Blair soothed, stroking Cam's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere." She reached behind her and found Cam's hand, folding tightly as she stepped back another pace. "Come into the bedroom. I need to hold you. I need you to hold me."

  Mutely, Cam followed, needing only the touch of this one woman's hand to center her universe.

  Standing in a shaft of sunlight by the side of the bed, they undressed slowly, no urgency now, only peace. Blair pulled back the sheet, slipped beneath, and held it open for her lover to join her. Facing each other, bodies lightly touching, they kissed again. A soft sigh, a quiet moan, the thunder of two hearts beating as one drifted on the air. Hot skin, tight muscles, and the wonder of passion made flesh united heart and soul. Devotion, desire, the sweet ache of need shimmered as blue eyes met gray.

  "Touch me," .Blair whispered against Cam's lips, smoothing her fingers down Cam's abdomen and between her legs. She waited until Cam mirrored her before gliding her fingers through the waiting warmth, pausing for a heartbeat as Cam's hips lifted into her palm. The answering brush of Cam's hand over her clitoris nearly made her come, and she clung to sanity with a thread. "Fill me now...as much as you can."

  Dizzy with the scent and sensation of Blair's arousal, Cam slipped inside as Blair echoed the movement. Instantly, her orgasm surged, and she stiffened, struggling to stem the tide of pleasure already loosed. When Blair withdrew and then pushed deeper, she couldn't hold on. Shuddering beneath the onslaught rising from her depths, Cam felt Blair pulse around her fingers. Her lover's cry of release triggered another peak and she buried her face in the curve of Blair's neck, sobbing softly.

  Still coming, Blair gripped Cam tightly, stroking her face fitfully as she gasped, "I love you. I will always love you."

  When her vision cleared and her breath returned, Cam settled onto her back and pulled Blair into her arms. "Can you tell that you're all I need?"

  "Yes." Blair rested her cheek on Cam's breast. The ridge of scar tissue, harder than the soft skin surrounding it, reminded her of how it felt to nearly lose the woman she loved. She ached to think that Cam would ever experience that terrible pain because of her There was no answer for that, no protection against it, no promise or guarantee that she could make that might not be a lie. There was only this moment and the hope of those to come. "While I live, you will always have my heart."

  "And you mine," Cam whispered, "as long as I live." The phone rang, shattering the stillness, but not the calm that suffused their souls.

  Blair reached behind her for the receiver, and returning her eyes to Cam's, said steadily, "This is Blair Powell."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  1000 27 August 2001

  B lair spoke only a few words, listening with no change in her expression, as Cam, breath held, searched her lover's eyes for the truth.

  "Yes, thank you, I'll do that. No, I'll see someone here," Blair said quietly.

  See someone here. The ache in Cam's chest exploded with greater force than when the bullet had torn through her. That day as she had lain bleeding on the sidewalk, staring at the bluest sky she'd ever seen, she'd had one brief instant of awareness that she was dying. But just before she'd gone down, she'd seen Blair dragged back inside the building out of harm's way. With that image in her mind, she'd had no fear and no pain. Her duty was done, and Blair was safe.

  Now, all she felt was pain.

  Struggling for calm, desperately searching for the reservoir of strength that had carried her through her father's death, her own near-death, and the loss of an agent under her command, Cam lay very still, afraid that if she moved at all Blair would feel her shaking.

  "I'll let you know where I need my records sent. Thank you again. You've been wonderful." Blair pushed the off button and held the receiver against her chest. She met Cam's eyes, her pupils so wide her blue irises were nearly as dark as Cam's troubled gray ones. "I'm..." Blair's voice cracked and she swallowed. "I'm negative. I don't have the gene."

  "Oh, good Christ." Cam closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, then reached for her lover. There was only an inch between them, but it was far more than she could bear. Still, she was mindful of Blair's recent surgery and as much as she wanted to hold her tightly, she contented herself with easing her palm over Blair's neck and down her back. "God, baby, I'm so happy."

  Blair laughed unsteadily. "I can't believe it. I was so sure I'd be positive." She caught Cam's hand and held it tightly. "I was trying to convince myself that it would be okay if I had to have more surgery."

  "It would be okay." Cam kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. With her fingers gently caressing Blair's face, she murmured, "No matter what, it would be all right. But I'm just so damn glad you don't need it."

  "She'll send my test reports to my gynecologist, and I'll just go back for my regular twice-yearly checkups." Blair kissed Cam, long and deep. When she pulled away, her eyes were hazy with love and desire. "It's over, darling. It's really over."

  "Yes." Cam leaned up and guided Blair onto her back. Very carefully, Cam leaned down and kissed the inside of Blair's left breast, just opposite the biopsy site. Then she raised her head and kissed Blair's mouth. "I love you."

  With a hand cupped behind Cam's neck, Blair drew her lover back down to her other breast. As she felt Cam's lips enclose her nipple, she murmured, "Love me again."

  1015 28Aug01

  Miami Beach, Florida

  Report - Strike Team Two. Pilot confirms purchase of one-way ticket at United Airlines ticket counter without incident. Cost $1600.00. UA Flight 175 to Los Angeles.

  2230 30 August 2001

  "Here," Cam said abruptly, "don't lift that. I'll get it."

  "Cameron," Blair said irritably, "it's a painting. It's not heavy."

  "Why don't I get it," Diane said smoothly, reaching between the two women to pick up the four-by-five-foot bubble-wrapped canvas. She smiled benignly at Cam and shooed away Blair, who was flushed and sweaty, with an impatient motion. "Why don't you two sit down somewhere and have a drink while I supervise loading the rest of these."

  "I'm perfectly capable of doing it." Blair was tired and cranky and unreasonably anxious about the upcoming show. She'd been working nonstop for three days on too little sleep and too much caffeine, and her nerves were frayed. It didn't help that Cam was uncharacteristically edgy as well. It especially didn't help that they'd had little time alone together, and when they had, they were both prickly.

  "Of course you are. Wonderfully capable—but they're mine now, and I'll see to them." Ignoring Blair's snarl, Diane pointed to a stack of similarly wrapped paintings against the wall when her gallery assistant and another employee arrived, escorted by Paula Stark. "Jamie, these are the ones that are going. Make sure to take them directly into the storeroom. Do not leave them in the van unattended."

  "You got it," the young woman replied good-naturedly. She nodded to Blair. "Good evening, Ms. Powell."

  Blair raked a hand through her hair and smiled. "Hi, Jamie. How are you?"

  "Terrific. Really looking forward to your show." Jamie directed the young man with her toward the canvases. "Take the smaller ones last, Dick. Thanks."

  Within a matter of minutes, the paintings, the culmination of a year's work, were gone. As Diane waved goodbye, Blair surveyed the nearly empty studio with a conflicting mixture of trepidation and anticipation. Some critical part
of her soul was about to be exposed, and she could no longer protect, defend, or explain that part of herself. Her art would have to speak for itself. Why am I doing this? I'd be just as happy painting even if my canvases never left this room. For one insane moment, she wanted to follow Diane out to the elevator and tell her to bring the paintings back.

  "You okay?"

  "No," Blair snapped, jerking around to face Cam. "I can't believe I'm doing this. I don't even want to do this." She saw the surprise in Cam's face at the heat in her voice, and the fire instantly left her eyes. She leaned her hips against the back of the sofa and shook her head. "God, I'm being a bitch. Sorry."

  "It's all right," Cam said as she walked over to her lover. "This last week has been hell."

  Blair ran her fingers along the edge of Cam's silk lapels, then smoothed her palms over Cam's chest beneath the jacket. Her hand brushed the leather strap that crossed Cam's left breast to the weapon harness snugged beneath her arm. "It hasn't been a picnic for you either." She fingered the leather as she rested her forehead against Cam's shoulder and closed her eyes. "I thought after the news that I'm BRCA-negative I'd feel better, but I'm still all churned up inside."

  Cam softly caressed Blair's neck before kneading the tight muscles in her shoulders. "It has to have brought up a lot of painful memories for you. That, and the surgery, and the pressure to get things ready for the show—no wonder you're a bit..." She stopped, searching for an appropriate word.

  "Bitchy?" Blair suggested with a faint laugh.

  "Well, that might be one term for it." Cam grinned.

  "Okay, fair enough. But what about you?" Blair tapped Cam's chin with a fingertip. "What's bugging you?"

  "Me?"

  "Yes, Cameron. You. You're never restless, but every time you're up here you've been wearing a path in front of my windows."

  "Uh," Cam flushed.

  "What?"

  "I'm nervous about this weekend."

  Blair blinked. "Why?"

  "Blair." Cam shook her head in fond exasperation. "I'm about to spend the weekend with my lover in the company of her father. For the first time. And oh, by the way-—her father happens to be the president of the United States. Don't you think that entitles me to be a little bit nervous?"