Eventually Blair ran her hands up and down Cam's back slowly, tentatively, assuring herself that she was real. When she lifted her arms to encircle Cam's shoulders, pressing closer to her, Cam gasped sharply.


"Youare hurt!" Blair exclaimed.


"It's nothing," Cam murmured, resting her cheek against Blair's hair and closing her eyes. God, it was so good just to be near her. She hadn't realized how tired she was. There'd been so much to do. They'd had to cordon off the park in the immediate vicinity of Sheep Meadow, an impossible task in itself, and then there was the evidence collection, and the interviews. And she'd had to call Jeremy Finch's sister in Omaha. And then report on a secure line to DC and brief the deputy Security advisor and her own chief, assuring them that there was no imminent threat to Blair. And then make decisions about where to move her, how deeply to seclude her. Goddamned Doyle arguing with her every step of the way. And every minute wondering if Blair was hurt, even though Stark had reported no injury. And worrying thatBlair might still be in danger or simply just frightened, and alone. Twelve hours apart from her had felt like a year. She tightened her hold on Blair and gasped again at the sudden surge of pain down her arm.


"Tell me," Blair whispered.


"Just a few burns," Cam answered, nearly asleep on her feet. It really didn't hurt so very much just at that moment. She lifted her uninjured hand to stroke Blair's face. "You're sure you're all right?"


"I am now," Blair responded softly. She could feel Cam shaking, and as much as she didn't want to let her go, she knew she needed to. "Cam, you need to lie down."


"Let me just stand here a minute," Cam replied, her voice eerily flat and her words forced and slow. "I'll be fine if I just don't move for a minute. Doesn't really hurt if I don't move. Just a little tired is all."


"I know," Blair said. She began to move them both toward the bed, one careful step at a time. It worried her that Cam followed without protest. That wasn't like her. This wasn't just fatigue. "Cam?"


"Hmm?" Cam asked dimly, trying to remember what she needed to do next. "Stark. Stark's report. Need that."


"Did they give you anything, for the pain?"


Cam felt her legs hit something unyielding and she sat down. Bed. "No. I told them no. I have to talk - to - Mac."


"Are you in pain now?" Blair asked, guiding her back against the pillows.


"Not so much, really," Cam muttered. There was the strangest tingling in her right hand. Then, she was aware of Blair lifting her legs onto the mattress, removing her shoes. "I shouldn't be in here," she remarked suddenly, as if just realizing where she was.


"You're safe for the moment," Blair said gently, staring at the gauze bandage wrapped around Cam's hand and arm. She hadn't seen that before. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and stroked Cam's cheek lightly. "I don't think you're in any condition to break any rules tonight."


"This is definitely against regulations," Cam remarked drowsily, reaching for Blair's hand but only managing to brush her fingers over Blair's palm.


"Yes," Blair whispered, leaning down to kiss her very softly on the mouth. "I know that, Commander."


Then Blair pulled the covers over the sleeping woman, and quietly left the room.




Chapter Twenty-One

Blair pulled the bedroom door closed behind her and came face-to-face with John Fielding, who was standing in the hallway three feet from the room. She looked at him questioningly, and he said quietly, "Mac would like to speak to the Commander."


"She's asleep. Not now."


If he was surprised by her response, he gave no sign of it. He merely nodded and walked to the far end of the hall, taking a position where he could see out the window as well as back along the hallway, past the closed door of Blair's room, and into the rest of the house.


In the living room Blair immediately noted an unfamiliar man standing next to the front door in the place generally occupied by Stark. Savard was on the couch, leaning back with her eyes closed. As Blair approached, Savard opened her eyes. She looked worn but her smile was still electric.


"Couldn't sleep?" Savard asked, surprised to see her. It hadn't escaped her notice that when Cameron Roberts walked through the door the first person she asked for was Blair Powell. After issuing a few curt orders, Roberts had disappeared down the hallway to Blair's room. Savard didn't know exactly what she thought might happen next, but she hadn't expected to see Blair again so soon. "Anything I can get you?"


Ignoring the question, Blair said quietly, "You should go to bed, Agent Savard. Even the FBI can't require that you work twenty-four hour shifts."


"I was just thinking about that," Savard admitted with a faint smile. "I thought I'd wait until Grant came back from the hospital. She took Stark to be checked out about half an hour ago. I just wanted to -- hear how she was."


"How did she seem?" Blair heard the edge of worry in Savard's voice.


Renee laughed. "Cranky. Fussing about leaving her post. She wouldn't have gone if the Commander hadn't ordered her to either be examined or be relieved." She smiled, a smile soft with feeling. "Stark's a regular Boy Scout."


Blair recognized the undercurrent of affection in her voice.Interesting. "Where's Mac?"


Savard indicated the room opposite them. "The dining room is apparently our new command center. I think he's waiting for the Commander in there."


"Then he'll have to wait," Blair said flatly. "She's exhausted."


Savard studied her, curious. There was a surprisingly proprietary tone in her voice. The two women's eyes met in a moment of silent understanding.


"Right, then." Savard moved as if to get up. "I'll go tell him."


Blair stopped her with a raised hand. "Never mind. I'll tell him myself."


*


Mac looked up from the notebook computer he was using as Blair Powell walked into the room. He was relieved to see that other than a weariness she couldn't quite disguise she looked thankfully uninjured. He couldn't even think about what might have happened if she had been fifteen feet closer to the vehicle when it exploded. He started to stand, and Blair said quickly, "For god's sake, Mac, sit down. "


"How are you, Ms. Powell?" he asked politely.


Blair laughed grimly. "I have no idea how to answer that question, Mac," she said with utter honesty. "Other than the fact that I feel like I've been dropped into the middle of some awful B-movie, I'm basically fine."


He smiled sympathetically. "It's been a hell of a day. And tomorrow will be hectic, too." He moved some file folders off the chair next to him. "You're welcome to sit down. The Commander will want to fill you in herself, I'm sure."


"In the morning, Mac," Blair said quietly.


He stared, surprised and clearly confused. "I'm sorry?"


"Have youlooked at her, Mac?" Blair asked, unable to keep the irritation from her voice. What was wrong with these people? "She's falling down on her feet, and she's hurt. She's asleep right now and no one is going to wake her up."


This time, Mac's incredulous expression was followed very quickly by an unmistakable look of respect. He nodded. "Of course. There's nothing that won't keep a few hours."


"She couldn't tell me very much," Blair sighed, finally sitting down on the straight-backed dining room chair across from Mac. "Just how badly is she hurt?"


Mac looked away, uncomfortable talking about something that he knew Cam wouldn't want discussed. Her. He'd rather Blair asked him to reveal top secrets.


For a few seconds, Blair thought he wouldn't answer. "Mac?"


Then he met her gaze and responded quietly, "As far as I can gather, she has some moderately severe burns on her right arm, shoulder, and neck. A State Trooper who was near the blast site grabbed her and dragged her away from the car before she could be more seriously injured."


He wasn't about to tell her how damn scared he'd been watching helplessly from the van. First he had seen Jeremy's car burst into flames and people being thrown to the ground for fifty feet around. When he had looked to the spot where he had last seen Blair's group approaching, all he could see was a cloud of smoke. For a minute he had been paralyzed with the fear that they were all dead. Fortunately, Grant was cool in a crisis and she had already started the backup car and was racing toward Egret's last known location.


Almost the instant the air had begun to clear, he had seen the Commander running straight into the raging inferno as if she didn't even notice the fire. Then Stark's voice had clamored in his ear that Egret was secure and while he was frantically trying to clear the lines of communication and direct the evacuation, he had seen a burly State Trooper dive into the flames and tackle Cameron Roberts. While Grant sped from the scene, the trooper had dragged the Commander away from the car. Mac had an eerie sensation that if that officer hadn't grabbed her, she might not have moved.


He took a steadying breath, banishing that disquieting image, and said, "It took me the better part of two hours to get her to let the EMTs near her. But they checked her out and cleared her. They said she'll be okay."


"Was anyone other than Agent Finch seriously injured?" Blair asked quietly. "I had a friend with me. Dr. Coleman?"


"I don't have the figures yet," Mac said solemnly. "There were a number of bystanders with bumps and bruises and assorted fractures, but as far as I know, Jeremy was the only casualty."


Blair heard the slight waver in his voice and realized that Mac had lost a friend as well as a colleague that day. "I'm so sorry."


Mac nodded mutely. There really wasn't anything to say, especially to Blair Powell. He supposed he shouldn't even be briefing her, but over the six months that he had served as the head of her security team, he had gotten to know her better then he might have otherwise. He didn't presume to think that they were friends, but he understood her isolation a little bit better now. It wasn't right to keep her in the dark, especially when the events so clearly involved her.


"You should get some rest, Ms. Powell," he said. "It's relatively quiet now, but I doubt that it will be tomorrow when the FBI shows up in force."


Blair realized she was exhausted. She had been running on pure adrenaline for hours, and now that Cam had arrived and she had finally seen her, she could allow her fatigue to surface. What she really wanted to do was go back to her room and stretch out on the bed next to Cam. She supposed that wasn't a very good idea, considering that the house was filled with Secret Service agents, not to mention the FBI. If she returned to her bedroom, they were not likely to be able to ignore the fact that she was sleeping with Cameron Roberts. She almost smiled at the sheer absurdity of the situation.


"I'd say that's good advice, Mac, and you should probably take it as well."


"I think I will," he said with a smile. As Blair rose, he added, "This is a very large house, and other than this room, the living room, and the kitchen, all the other rooms are bedrooms."


She studied him thoughtfully, but she couldn't read anything in his clear blue eyes. "Thank you, Mac. I think I'll go find an empty one."


He watched her leave the room, thinking once more how glad he was that he did not carry the ultimate responsibility for safeguarding her life.




Chapter Twenty-Two

At just past seven the next morning, Blair walked into the small galley-style kitchen. Cam was in the process of pouring a cup of coffee, juggling the pot somewhat awkwardly with her left hand. She was wearing blue jeans that were an inch too long, a loose fitting pale blue button-down collar shirt that looked suspiciously like police issue, and running shoes. The shoes, at least, were hers. Remarkably, when she glanced at Blair and smiled, her eyes looked clear and rested.