became firmer, more insistent, demanding her attention. She arched toward the woman kneeling before her in the dark, tightening almost painfully as warm lips encircled her. Slow practiced caresses of a velvet smooth tongue swept the images from her consciousness, eclipsing thought with near painful pleasure. A groan escaped her as she dropped her head back against the couch, allowing the slowly building pressure to take her outside herself, beyond thought, past memory. The pounding of her heart grew loud in her ears as her breath came in short gasps, almost sobs. She struggled to contain the exquisite, piercing throbbing in her clit, and failed. When the explosion began, ripping at her control, she slipped one hand into the soft blond hair, moaning deep in her throat. Trembling, helpless, for a few moments she was mercifully unaware.
**********
She walked the blonde to the door, handing her a sealed envelope that rested on the table just inside the foyer.
'Ill be away for a while. I dont know how long.'
'Will I see you again?'
'I dont know.'
The blonde studied the tall dark-haired stranger she had met countless times in the dark hours of the night - in this room, in elegant hotel suites - in rooms that might be anywhere, or nowhere at all. She knew virtually nothing of the other woman's life, except what she gleaned from the confessions of her body. She knew the hard, lean muscles and the angry red scar on her thigh. She knew the soft, sensitive places that left her gasping when touched. She wondered whose name she called when she came into the silence. She had never tried to find out, and she did not want to know now. Strangely, it was something else she wanted altogether. She wanted to leave something of herself.
Breaking every rule, the blonde said softly, 'My name is Claire.'
'Claire,' the dark-eyed stranger whispered, the expression in her intense gaze unfathomable. She kissed her for the first time, a brief tender meeting of lips that spoke a greeting, or perhaps a good-bye. Then, breaking every rule, she said, 'My name is Cameron.'
When the door closed, leaving them to their own separate lives, the lingering memory of that kiss was all that remained between them.
At six a.m. United States Secret Service Agent Cameron Roberts boarded a small jet bound for New York City. She wore her ID badge clipped to the pocket of her dark blue gabardine suit. She carried an overnight bag with a change of clothes, and her computer. The rest of her belongings would follow on a separate flight, and would be delivered to her new apartment in the Gramercy Park Hotel later that day by some member of her team. After four hours of deep sleep, undisturbed by dreams, she felt fresh and ready to work. That she didnt like her assignment was now a moot point. She had a job to do, and that was all that mattered.
The flight was only partially full. It was Saturday morning, and only a few government employees were traveling. She took a seat across the aisle from a burly blond man with a badge that displayed FBI in bold letters. She saw him study her own badge as she sat down. Female agents were no longer rare, but she still drew attention. She was used to it.
'Investigative division?' he questioned as the plane taxied down the runway.
She nearly said 'yes', then stopped herself quickly. With a shake of her head, she replied, 'Protective.'
'Anybody important?' he asked curiously.
'Arent they all?'
He couldnt tell if she was joking, so he stifled a laugh. And they said FBI agents were humorless!
She opened a laptop computer, subtly angling the screen away from him. He took the hint and opened a newspaper as she entered her password.
She entered the link to the USSS personnel division and brought up the bios on her new team. Nothing out of the ordinary. Four men and four women in addition to herself, all with more than five years experience in the field. All college educated, as were almost all agents except the rare few who came through military channels or some other unusual route. All had advanced emergency medical training, as had she, and all were expert marksman. Two of the men and one woman were married; there was one Hispanic and two black agents. She fixed a name to each face and exited the site.
Entering the protected password, she brought up the encrypted file she had downloaded last night.
___
Field Report, Fri 12/26, 21:30
Submitted by USSS Agent in Charge Daniel Ryan
Subject: Blair Jane Powell
DOB: 12/31/1972
Residence: 310 Gramercy Park, PH
New York City, 10021
Phone: (212) 295-0566
Marital Status: Single
Education: Washington Friends High School, Wash. D.C.
Paris Institute of Fine Arts
Occupation: Artist
