0615 27 August 2001

"I really like the way you look when you get ready for work," Stark commented as she sat cross-legged on top of the covers, a yellow terrycloth robe loosely belted around her waist.

"Yeah?" Renee turned from the dresser where she had been sorting through her travel jewelry box in search of the small gold hoops she intended to wear that day. She'd already donned a plain white shirt and dark trousers and clipped her weapon holster to her right hip. A matching blazer lay over a chair next to the open closet. "How come?"

Stark leaned back on both arms, unmindful of her robe opening to expose her chest. "You just look so...capable. I like it. It's sexy,"

"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 every 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.