The reporter s expression did not change. He held Blair's gaze comfortably. "Does your father know? "

"Yes."

"Does he approve? "

Blair's expression was glacial, but entirely composed. "That's a question best presented to my father, although I should think there are matters of much greater importance for you and the rest of the news media to focus on."

"That may be, but it's a question that everyone will want to have answered."

Blair hesitated, wondering where to draw the line between the personal and the public, especially where her father was concerned. "My father is aware of my sexual orientation and is supportive."

"And the woman in the photograph is your current lover? "

"Yes." . .. Cam leaned forward. "I'm the other person in the photograph."

For the first time, Mitchell's composure faltered and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "You are the head of Ms. Powell's security team, are you not, Agent Roberts?"

"That's correct. " Cam eyed him flatly. "But I'm here today as Ms. Powell's lover. "

"Are your superiors aware of your relationship? " He kept his eyes on them, but he was writing furiously.

"Not yet. But I expect to advise them within the next twenty-four hours,"

"Do you expect to be dismissed? "

Blair stiffened.

"I don't know, " Cam answered calmly.

Mitchell turned his attention back to Blair. "Does your father know about Agent Roberts as well?"

"Yes."

"How long has he known? "

"That is of no relevance," Cam interjected swiftly. There was a definite edge to her tone now.

"Do you expect to continue your relationship after this public announcement, especially in light of your unusual professional relationship?"

"Yes, " both women said emphatically.

From that point, the interview had proceeded much as Blair had expected, with the usual questions about when she had first become aware of her sexual orientation, the details of previous liaisons, and suppositions as to the effect of the announcement on her father's reelection campaign. Most of the questions she refused to answer because there were some things no one had the right to know. She also refused to speculate on the position of the White House. It had not been a pleasant discussion, but it wasn't nearly as difficult as she imagined it would have been had Cam not been with her.

After much debate and chest thumping from the West Wing in the days after the interview, a consensus had been reached as to when to release the story. Mitchell and his editors argued that there was a strong likelihood of a leak from the Hill and that some other newspaper might break the story. They wanted to file immediately. Lucinda Washburn claimed that would put Blair at undue risk while abroad. Eventually, all parties had compromised on a delay of two weeks, which would enable Blair and her security team to be back in the U.S. when the news came out.

"God." Blair sighed. Going public about something so very personal had been a difficult decision—one that she'd avoided making all of her adult life. If she hadn't fallen in love with Cam, she might never have willingly disclosed the information. "That's not good news."

"I'm sorry, baby." Cam pushed up in the bed, her back against the headboard, Blair still in her arms. "We need to get back to base so Mac can bring me up to speed. I have to get a sense of where this is headed."

"We won't have to cut the trip short, will we?"

Cam was silent.

"Damn it, Cam! I will not allow public opinion to dictate my life." Blair did get out of bed then and paced angrily, unmindful of her nakedness, around the small room.

"Blair" Cam said softly. When her lover failed to acknowledge her, she tried again, slightly louder. "Blair."

Blair stopped at the foot of the bed long enough to fix Cam with a steely glare before she resumed stalking the ten feet between the door and window.

"It's not public opinion that I care about," Cam went on in a level voice, She hadn't moved, but remained propped up against the pillows, the sheet drawn to her waist. "We don't really have enough people of our own for any kind of crowd control, but I can draft extra security from the French if necessary."

"I know that tone of voice, Roberts," Blair said sharply, halting abruptly and turning to face Cam, hands on her hips and eyes flashing. "You've got your command voice on, which means that my lover just left, I hate it when you do that."

"I know." Sighing, Cam pushed the sheets aside and climbed from the bed in search of her pants for the second time that morning. She pulled them on and then stuffed her hands into her pockets while edging a hip against the small night table to give Blair more room to continue her pacing. "There's been a resurgence of right-wing dissidence throughout Europe in the last five years, and France is one center of activity."

"You think someone's going to try to shoot me because I'm a lesbian?"

Every minute of every day, Cam lived with the knowledge that someone, somewhere, might try to harm the woman she loved for reasons that would be unfathomable to any sane individual. But assassins were not sane, and fanatics needed very little rational motive to carry out acts of terrorism, "I have to consider that a possibility, yes. And that means that 1 have to reassess our vulnerability in light of this new development. It's part of what I do."

Blair walked to the table and picked up Cam's cell phone.

Cam regarded her quizzically.

"I have to call Felicia."

"Any particular reason?"

"I need clothes." Blair punched in the number to command central and snapped, "Get me Davis at this number." Then she sat down on the edge of the bed and put the phone beside her.

Curious, Cam asked, "Why Felicia? Stark's your lead agent."

Smiling despite herself, Blair shook her head. "It's a girl thing. You wouldn't understand."

"Probably not." Grinning, Cam sat down beside her and reached for her hand. With the other, she pulled the sheet across the bed and wrapped it around Blair's body. "The view is spectacular, but you're going to get cold."

"Not while I'm this pissed off" Blair muttered, but she allowed Cam to cover her.

"Do you understand my concerns?"

"Yes." Blair entwined her ringers with Cam's. "But I don't like it. I'm scheduled for a tour of the breast cancer center at Institut Gustave-Roussy this afternoon. I was hoping that I would have a few hours to myself in the morning to sketch in the Tuileries gardens."

"All of that may still be possible. Let me just get the updates on recent cell activity in the Paris environs and a look at what's breaking on the newswires." Cam lifted Blair's hand to her lips and kissed her fingers. "Just give me an hour or so to brief with the team and then we'll discuss the day's itinerary."

Blair turned her head and studied her lover's face. Cam's dark eyes were tender and warm. "You never used to ask."

"I know." Cam brushed the backs of Blair's fingers against her own cheek, needing the contact. "But that was before I fell in love with you."

"Do you think the longer we're together, the more rope I'll be able to get from you?"

"I don't think so," Cam said musingly, her eyes dancing. "I think you've gotten just about as much as I intend to give."

Blair shifted closer, threaded an arm around Cam's waist, and rested her head on Cam's shoulder. "I'm very persuasive."

Wrapping her in an embrace, Cam pressed her lips to Blair's forehead. "Mmm. Believe me, I know."

At that moment, the phone rang and Blair snatched it up, "Blair Powell...Felicia?...I need an emergency makeup kit and something to wear. Yeah...slacks and a shirt will do. Can you raid my room and pack a bag?...Sure, half an hour's fine." At Cam's raised eyebrows, Blair pointedly ignored her. "Let me give you the address where we are." After giving Felicia the details, Blair closed the phone once more and set it aside. Regarding her lover seriously, she asked, "Shall we call down for breakfast or is there something else you'd rather do for half an hour?"

Cam framed Blair's face with both hands and leaned in to kiss her lingeringly, enjoying the softness of her lips and the heat that rose beneath her palms. When she drew her mouth away, her voice was husky. "There's always something I'd rather do with you, Ms. Powell. But considering the circumstances, I think breakfast might be the safest choice."

Blair ran her fingers down the center of Cam's bare chest. "I know you're not the type to play it safe."

"You have severely tested my limits." Laughing, Cam caught Blair's hand and stilled her teasing movements. "So I'll have to decline the offer of other pleasures for the time being."

"Oh yeah?" Blair planted both hands on Cam's chest and pushed her backward onto the bed, climbing astride her hips as she fell. Leaning over with her arms braced on either side of Cam's shoulders, she slowly lowered her head, her eyes fixed on Cam's. "We'll see about that, Commander."

0635 16Aug01

Query team leader: Do you read?

Team Leader: Roger, RedDog

Target located. Awaiting green light.

Team Leader: Observe at the ready

Roger. Strike team out.

CHAPTER FOUR

T wenty-nine minutes later, a knock sounded at the hotel room door. When Blair started to rise, Cam caught her arm and stood quickly. "I'll get it."

After pulling on her pants and shirt, Cam reached for her weapon, which was lying in its holster on the bedside table. She slid it out with practiced ease on her way to the door. There was no peephole hi the heavy wooden door, and she glanced over her shoulder to ensure that Blair was not in the sightline of anyone outside in the hail. Then, her hand on the knob, she asked, "Who is it?"

"Davis, Commander."

Automatic held down at her side, Cam inched open the door for identity verification, then stepped aside and allowed Davis to enter.

Felicia stopped at the foot of the bed, her eyes face front, appearing to take no note of the rumpled solitary bed or the fact that the first daughter sat in the middle of it with nothing on but a bedsheet.

Blair held out a hand for the overnight bag. "Thanks."

"You're quite welcome, Ms. Powell." Turning away, Felicia returned to the door. "I'll take the hall, Commander."

"Very well." Once again, Cam blocked the sightline to Blair as her agent opened the door and slipped out.

"Do you do that on purpose, just to make me crazy?"

Cam turned, returning her automatic to the holster and securing it to the waistband of her pants at the small of her back. Ordinarily, she wore a shoulder holster but had found it difficult to camouflage in the evening jacket she'd worn the night before. "What?"

Blair blew out an exasperated breath and stood up. "Never mind."

Cam fingered die studs from her pocket one at a time and began to fit them into her shirt. "What?"

"Put yourself between me and even the remotest possibility of danger."

Frowning, Cam looked up. "You mean just now?"

"Yes," Blair said slowly, cocking her head and giving Cam a look. "I mean just now."

Cam opened her fly, tucked in her shirt, and zipped up. "That's just SOP. I don't even think about it."

Blair regarded her lover contemplatively, not angry, but curious. "How do they teach you to do that?"

"What?" Cam slid both arms around Blair's waist and kissed her softly. "What?"

"You're being unusually dense this morning." Blair rested her forearms on Cam's shoulders, watching the colors swirl in Cam's eyes.

Cam grinned. "Too much sex."

Despite herself, Blair smiled. Then her expression grew serious. "How do they teach someone to be willing to die for a paycheck?"

"It's not about that," Cam murmured. "You know that."

"I don't understand why you do it."

Cam rested her forehead against Blair's and took a long breath. "It's an honor."

Blair made a small sound and pressed her face to Cam's neck. "Oh God. I do love you."

"I'm so glad." Cam kissed her once more, still softly, but this time she allowed herself the luxury of lingering- She traced her tongue over the soft surface of Blair's lips and into the warm welcome of her mouth, knowing that it could be hours or even days before she might do so again. Then, resolutely, she released her hold and stepped away. "I love you, too."