Love And Honor

by Radclyffe

  “No, we’re all right. We just needed to escape for awhile.”

  Diane settled on the sofa as her friend and her lover disappeared around the corner in the direction of the guest room.

  What you both need is a few weeks alone together—away from the news people and the White House both.

  She sighed as she picked up a magazine, knowing her wish was unlikely to come true.

  ———

  “I should shower,” Cam said as she eased out of her jacket and started to shrug the leather weapon harness off her shoulders.

  “You’re fine,” Blair countered as she moved to her side and lifted the holster free, then placed it over a nearby chair. The guest room was large enough for a queen sized bed, a small dressing table with mirrors, several chairs and an adjoining bathroom. The single window was open and the curtains moved desultorily in the weak summer breeze. “Just come to bed.”

  Stubbornly, Cam shook her head. “Its been a long day, and I don’t want to lie naked next to you until I’ve had a shower.”

  “Well, I definitely want you naked,” Blair conceded. Reaching for Cam’s hand once again, she turned toward the bathroom and said, “Come on then, Commander.”

  A few minutes later they stood together beneath the warm spray, almost too tired to talk. Cam leaned forward with both palms against the wall in front of her while the water hit her head and neck. She almost groaned aloud as Blair began to soap her shoulders and back.

  “God, that feels criminally good.”

  “Turn around,” Blair said softly. When Cam complied, Blair smoothed her hands, soft with suds, over Cam’s chest and abdomen.

  “Starting to feel human?” Blair questioned softly, sensing Cam relaxing beneath her touch. At another time, the sight of Cam nude with her head thrown back, eyes closed, vulnerable in a way that she seemed with no one else, would have made Blair surge with desire. Tonight, being able to take care of her was satisfying in a way she had barely imagined. The responsibility of loving her was wonderful and terrifying at the same time. Suddenly, she slid her arms around Cam’s waist and pressed against her, the white froth on Cam’s body coating her own.

  “What’s this?” Cam murmured, feeling Blair tremble.

  “Nothing. I just love you.”

  Cam smiled and rested her cheek against Blair’s. “It feels good when you do.”

  “Yes,” Blair whispered almost to herself.

  Five minutes later they crawled between crisp clean sheets and embraced, face to face. Cam kissed the tip of Blair’s nose and sighed.

  “For the record, I want to make love,” Cam murmured.

  “But?” Blair asked teasingly, settling her head on Cam’s shoulder as she stroked her chest, finally gently cradling a breast in one palm.

  “I’m too damned tired.”

  “Well,” Blair said as her lids began to close. “There’s always tomorrow.”

  The last thing Cam did before she surrendered to sleep was to hope that would always be true.

  ———

  “Good morning,” Diane said, surprise apparent in her tone as Cam walked into the kitchen a little after 7:00 the next morning. “I didn’t expect to see you up so early. In fact, I expected you to sleep for a week.”

  “I smelled the coffee.” Cam grinned, nodding toward the coffee maker on the counter.

  “Ah,” Diane said with a smile, lifting her own cup to her lips. She was in the burgundy dressing gown again, but this time she was obviously nude beneath it. The plunging neckline bared a nearly lethal expanse of creamy skin between her full breasts, and the curve of her hip and thigh was tantalizingly outlined in shimmering silk.

  Cam averted her gaze and asked, “Do you mind if I take some to Blair?”

  “Not at all. In fact, I’d prefer it.”

  Cam raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  Diane smiled fondly. “She’s beastly in the morning before coffee, or haven’t you noticed?”

  “I can’t say as I have,” Cam replied mildly as she moved to the counter and took down two cups from a glass-enclosed shelf above the sink.

  “Very diplomatic, Commander,” Diane said, her voice a low purr. “One could take that to mean that you’ve never seen her first thing in the morning, or that you’ve never found her to be cranky at that hour.”

  Cam turned, leaning her hip against the counter and regarded Diane solemnly. “I’ve seen her first thing in the morning, just not often.”

  “Something tells me that’s going to change.”

  “I hope so.”

  Cam poured coffee, feeling Diane watching her. “Thanks,” she said when she’d finished. “For the coffee, and for putting us up last night.”

  “She’s my best friend, and I love her.”

  “I know, and I’m glad.” Briefly Cam wondered if those two things were related or if they were, in fact, separate statements. She had never asked Blair if she and Diane had been lovers, and she never would. It didn’t matter because it didn’t affect what was between her and Blair now. “She needs friends like you.”

  “Apparently what she needs most of all, Commander,” Diane said emphatically, “is you.”

  “It’s Cam. And if it makes you worry any less, I love her, too.”

  Diane smiled, and this time the smile was sensuous. Her voice dropped a register as she remarked throatily, “She’s very fortunate.”

  “No. I am.”

  “Are things going to work out with this latest press brouhaha?” Diane asked suddenly.

  Cam was used to keeping her reactions to herself, but the question surprised her. “You know about that?”

  “Some. Blair told me about the photograph in the newspaper and the fact that she expects more publicity.”

  “I doubt that our relationship will remain a secret much longer.”

  “If I may be so bold… are you ready for that?”

  “More than ready.”

  Diane saluted her with the coffee cup. “As I said, she’s very lucky.”

  At that moment Blair shuffled into the kitchen, dressed only in a long T-shirt that came to mid thigh. She glanced from her lover to her best friend. “Who’s lucky? Is that coffee?”

  Cam laughed and held out the cup. “Here you go.”

  Blair frowned when she realized that Cam was barefoot in old clothes that Blair kept at Diane’s for emergencies—tight threadbare jeans that didn’t button at the top and a shirt that was missing buttons in decidedly dangerous places considering Diane’s proximity. Crossing quickly to Cam’s side, she took the cup and wrapped her free arm around her lover’s waist. “What are you two talking about…or shouldn’t I ask?”

  Cam kissed her temple lightly and murmured, “Newspaper photographs.”

  Blair grimaced. “Oh, that. What else.”

  “Don’t worry, love,” Diane said lightly. “Once they’ve had their week of fun with you, they’ll move on to something else. In six months, no one will care.”

  “In six months, my father is going to be in the middle of his reelection campaign. Someone is going to care.”

  “He can handle it,” Cam said with certainty.

  “I hope so,” Blair said, almost to herself.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Five hours later, Cam, in a two piece charcoal suit and monochrome linen shirt, accompanied by Stark, Savard, Mac, and Felicia, knocked on Blair’s door.

  “Hi,” Blair said when she stepped aside to admit them. For an instant, seeing Cam in her professional mode, she remembered how her lover had looked that morning, disheveled and still sleep-tossed, and she wanted to kiss her. Just because.

  “Hi,” Cam murmured as she passed, the fingers of her right hand brushing the length of Blair’s bare forearm.

  “There’s coffee in the kitchen if anyone wants some,” Blair called. “Just help yourself.”

  A few minutes later, everyone had settled in a loose circle around the low wide coffee table in the sitting area just to the right of the door. Cam sa
t on the couch next to Blair with Mac on her left. Felicia was next to him in one of the sling back chairs while Stark and Savard occupied a small loveseat on the other side of the table.

  “I ran preliminaries on our team this morning,” Cam said. “As we all expected, it was fairly nonproductive. I did turn up one interesting fact, however.”

  Beside her, she felt Mac stiffen and saw Stark’s eyes widen with surprise, or alarm. Savard watched her intently. The only person in the room who seemed completely relaxed was Felicia Davis.

  “It seems that Fielding was assigned as the FBI liaison in DC three years ago. The Bureau field agent he worked with was Special Agent Patrick Doyle.”

  “Jesus,” Stark exclaimed. “He never said anything about knowing Doyle.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Mac hastened to add. “It’s not like they were old friends or anything. Considering what an asshole Doyle turned out to be, he probably wanted to downplay any relationship they might have had.”

  Reluctantly, Stark pointed out, “Fielding was with us in San Francisco. And he’d just gone off duty the night that Ms. Pow—Blair and the commander were photographed on the beach. He could have tipped someone to their location.”

  “Yes,” Mac agreed grudgingly, “but there are plenty of other explanations for that photograph. The Bureau has agents there, and they’d most likely take pictures of anyone with no questions asked if a DC SAC ordered them to.”

  “At this point,” Cam interjected before Mac and Stark ended up at odds, “I consider this only a coincidental association. It could be only a paper link—Fielding might never even have interfaced with Doyle in person. But it bears follow-up. Right now, we can’t discount any potential connections.” She had known her agents wouldn’t like one of their own being looked at, and she didn’t blame them. She would have been unhappy if they’d reacted otherwise. But it had to be done. “Savard? Can you run with it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. How about you two—any progress with my background check?” Cam asked, looking steadily at Stark and Savard.

  Savard cleared her throat. “So far, Commander, you’re in the clear. We looked at…ah…family members and the list of intimate contacts you provided.”

  To her credit, Savard neither blushed nor looked away. Then she added, “Other than your association with the escort service in DC, we don’t see anything that could potentially be an avenue for blackmail or future coercion.”

  “For now, we’ll accept that as a dead end,” Cam responded evenly. “If something turns up that does lead back to me, we’ll look further.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Turning to her communications director, Cam asked, “Mac?”

  He grimaced, his frustration evident. “I’d hoped to have more. I finally backtracked the photograph in the Post of you and Blair through the AP’s source files and came up with the name of a freelance reporter. Eric Mitchell out a Chicago.”

  “Name mean anything to anyone?” Cam asked of the room in general. Everyone shook their heads in the negative. She nodded. “Go ahead Mac.”

  He ran a hand through his blond hair and blew out of breath. “I wish I could. I talked to him an hour ago, and he’s uncrackable. I don’t think he’d give up a source if President Powell flew out there and confronted him in the news room. The only thing he would tell me is that it came to him via an anonymous email.”

  “I’m looking at that, Commander,” Davis said quietly. “Newspapers aren’t particularly difficult to hack.”

  Cam raised an eyebrow but made no comment. “You think there’s any value in bracing him in person, Mac?”

  Mac shook his head. “Believe me, Commander, I would fly out there this afternoon if I thought it would do any good. He’s not going to give us anything.”

  “All right,” Cam said with a sigh. “Anything in his background?”

  “Nothing much, but I haven’t looked too hard yet. I just came up with his name right before this meeting.”

  “Dig. There’s got to be a reason that the source contacted him specifically. Find it.”

  “Roger that.”

  Finally, Cam looked to Felicia. “Any progress?”

  Crossing one elegant calf over the other, Felicia Davis leaned forward, her hands loosely clasped in her lap. She was a stunning combination of composure and intensity. “I’ve just started, but I can tell you this—there is a concentrated exchange of e-mail and attached files going back and forth between a limited number of Bureau addresses and some offices on the Hill.”

  “Specifics?” Cam asked, her eyes glinting. This is what we need.

  “Not yet. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t even find this kind of traffic unusual, but every single message is encrypted and the source files are limited. It will take me a while to pinpoint the origination, but eventually, I ought to be able to give you not only the who, but the what.”

  “Excellent. While you’re at it,” Cam instructed, “see if you can trace those same e-mail addresses or copies of the messages to anyone in Justice or Treasury.”

  “That means a lot of transmissions to sort out, Commander,” Felicia pointed out. “It’s the most common pathway for legitimate intra- and interagency business these days.”

  “I know that. What we need,” Cam said in frustration, “is to find out who is coordinating this operation. That someone must have all the information. We need a name.” She stood, and the others followed. “I’ll be in Command Central all day. If anyone gets anything, advise me immediately. I need you all to remain available to meet here at any time in case something breaks.”

  Everyone murmured their assent as they gathered papers and moved toward the door. When Blair closed the door behind the small group of supporters, she turned to Cam and said, “What do you think?”

  Cam leaned against the back of the sofa, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. “I think Davis is onto something. There has to be a tie-in to the Hill, because I can’t see the Bureau in this all alone even if it does have Hoover-esque overtones.” She rubbed both hands briskly over her face and sighed.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve had three calls from Carlisle since 8:00 a.m.”

  Blair’s chest tightened. “What did he want?”

  “I don’t know,” Cam replied grimly. “I haven’t answered.”

  “What do you think he wants?”

  “To advise me of my suspension.”

  She started toward the phone. “I’m calling Lucinda.”

  “Blair, no,” Cam said softly. “This isn’t your fight.”

  Blair stopped dead and stared stonily at Cam. “I beg your pardon?”

  “This is internal, something between Carlisle and me and whoever might be squeezing him on this.” Cam held out her hands. “Come here.”

  After a seconds hesitation, Blair crossed the room and stepped into the space between Cam’s legs, loosely wrapping her arms around her lover’s shoulders, one hand going to the back of Cam’s neck. She stroked her gently. “Don’t shut me out.”

  “I won’t,” Cam promised, encircling her waist. “But lets wait to pull out the big guns.”

  Blair laughed. “Lucinda would love to know you called her that.”

  “Speaking of the formidable Chief of Staff,” Cam said, “what have you decided about making a statement to the press about us?”

  “I believe I’m at the point that if asked, I will acknowledge.”

  “Good,” Cam murmured as she kissed Blair’s forehead. “I think that’s a very good idea.”

  Blair studied Cam’s eyes, looking for any sign of worry. “Are you sure you’re okay with that if I do? You’re going to get most of the heat initially. Someone is bound to raise the issue that you took advantage of your position or that your effectiveness has been compromised.”

  Cam brushed her thumb against the corner of Blair’s mouth, smiling when Blair quickly turned her head and kissed it. “I’m fine with it. I love you.”


  The words never failed to pierce her to the core, and, smiling, Blair pressed closer, her lips finding Cam’s neck before she rested her cheek on Cam’s shoulder. “Well, I can testify to the fact that your effectiveness has not been diminished in the least.”

  “Good to know,” Cam murmured.

  Closing her eyes, Blair breathed her lovers scent and felt her heartbeat strong beneath her palm. Feeling inexplicably at peace, she whispered, “I love you, too, Commander.”

  ———

  As the afternoon dragged by, Blair tried to occupy her mind with work. Usually, once she began applying paint to canvas, her focus was so intense that everything else would disappear from her consciousness. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working this time. Frustrated, she set her palette and brushes aside and pushed both hands through her hair, glancing at the clock for the fifth time in as many minutes.

  As she crossed the loft with the intent of calling the command center to ask Cam for an update, a knock sounded on her door. She detoured in that direction and sighed with relief when she saw her lovers face through the peephole.

  “God, I’ve been going crazy up here, she said as soon as she had the door open. She grasped Cam’s hand and pulled her inside, then kissed her swiftly on the mouth. “Tell me you’ve got something.

  Cam shook her head, shedding her jacket to the back of a nearby chair and shrugging out of her shoulder holster. “Not yet, but Davis is hopeful that it won’t be too long. I’ve got to believe well turn up something soon.”

  We have to, because the clock is ticking faster than I thought.

  “Maybe this really will be over soon,” Blair said wearily. “At least we haven’t gotten any more envelopes with surveillance photographs of us inside.”

  “No, and I don’t think we will either,” Cam said, moving to the sofa and leaning back with a sigh as she relaxed into the cushions. She’d been hunched over a computer in the command center for hours.

  “Why not?” Blair asked as she joined her.

  “Because I think our theory that these came from a friendly source is correct,” Cam said as she took Blair’s hand, intertwining their fingers and resting them on her thigh. “I think they were meant to warn us—or at least you —of the scope of the investigation and perhaps to give a hint of the intent. The first photograph was of you and I together, letting you know that our relationship wasn’t a secret. But it wasn’t as damaging as it might have been, because it wasn’t clear that you were with a woman, and I wasn’t identifiable. Plus, there’s been no follow-up to that. A reporter wouldn’t be likely to sit on that kind of juicy tidbit for long.”