forward, engaged in conversation or napping. She and Blair were quite alone. Nevertheless, Cam did not want their private conversation overheard. 'You don't have to be a hero, you know. Why don't you take a couple of pain pills and try to rest.'
Blair started to shake her head, and abruptly stopped when the slight movement caused her stomach to lurch. 'Believe me, Commander, I am no hero. The problem is, the pain pills tend to make me sicker than the pain.'
Cam laughed softly as she shifted in her seat and pushed the center arm rest up out of the way. She laid her left arm along the backs of the seats and offered Blair her shoulder. 'Just try to close your eyes for the rest of the flight. It's probably the only thing that will do any good. Believe me, I've been in your position more than once. The only way to get through it is pills or sleep.'
Blair knew instinctively that Cam's offer of comfort was prompted by sympathy, and no special feelings for her. Nevertheless, what she needed at that moment was precisely what Cameron offered. Simple human comfort. She allowed her body to relax against Cam's side, and rested her head in the curve of Cam's arm. She knew she wouldn't sleep, but perhaps if she closed her eyes the pain would lessen.
Cam gently stretched her legs out in front of her and settled back into the seat. In only a minute or two, she knew from the rhythmic motion of Blair's breathing that she had settled into sleep. The faint background drone of the engines and the warmth of Blair's body along her side lulled her into a sense of peacefulness that she had long forgotten. She stared out the window, and thought of nothing. For those few precious hours, Blair's presence was all she needed. As she dozed, she rested her cheek on the fragrant softness of Blair's hair.
**********
As the plane touched down, Cam and Blair awoke together. Neither of them moved. Cam's hand had drifted down from the seat and was curled gently along Blair's side, resting just beneath her breast. In her sleep, Blair had turned to thread her arm around Cam's waist. She lay with her head tucked beneath Cam's chin, resting in her arms. They held each other as if it had always been.
As the others in the cabin began to stand and stretch, Cam lifted her arm from around Blair's body, acutely aware of how much she did not want to let her go. 'Ms. Powell, we need to depart.'
With a sigh, Blair pushed herself upright and brushed her hands through her wild tresses. She noted with just a hint of surprise that her headache was gone. 'Yes, of course we do.'
She glanced at Cameron, startled to see a fleeting look that might have been regret cross her handsome face. Then, the professional impenetrable mask returned, and Cam simply smiled in agreement.
Cam left her then to move forward and speak to her people regarding the plans for transportation back to the townhouse. Diane worked her way down the aisle to Cam's vacant seat. 'You two looked very cozy together,' she remarked dryly.
'Leave it alone, Diane,' Blair said quietly.
Diane bit back the retort she had been about to make. There was something in her old friend's voice that warned her off. In fact, theyhad looked very good together.Too good together. They looked as if they had held each other a thousand times before. Diane simply shook her head and left unspoken her words of caution. Something told her that Blair was beyond hearing.
**********
Cameron sat her paper cup of coffee down on the worktable and glanced over at Mac with a quizzical lift of her eyebrow. 'Is she still upstairs?'
'Yup, three days straight,' Mac said with a shake of his head.
Cameron wasn't sure what to make of it, but she knew she didn't like it. Ever since they had touched down at JFK, Blair had not been herself. She had sent word that she intended to work in her studio, and would not require daily meetings with Cameron. Cam had not protested, feeling that to do so would be a further invasion of Blair's privacy. Nevertheless, the atmosphere in the command center resembled the calm before the storm. All of them expected Blair to burst forth from her isolation at any moment, and lead them once again on a merry chase. For her part, Cam almost wished she would. There was something unnerving about the sudden change in Blair's behavior.
Better the enemy I know,Cam muttered to herself. She picked up her coffee and headed to her small glass enclosed office. Mac looked after her, thinking that Blair Powell wasn't the only one who was not acting like themselves.
Things continued much the same for another week. The agents came and went, whiling away the hours of their shift reading, talking in hushed tones, and generally wondering when the bomb would drop. Cam spent as little time as possible within the confines of the command center. She jogged, she worked out, she read in her apartment. She left strict orders to be called the moment Blair gave any indication that she was preparing to leave the building. On the night of the eighth day, the call finally came.
'She just got into a cab and is headed downtown,' Mac informed her.
'Shit,' Cam cursed. 'How did you let that happen?'
Mac's discomfort was nearly palpable, even over the phone. 'There wasn't anything we could do short of physically stopping her. She just walked out of the building, stepped into the street, and flagged a checkered down. We were lucky to get the car out fast enough to follow her.'
Cam sighed slightly in relief. 'Then you have her in sight?'
'Roger that. Hold on a second--'
Cam paced the confines of her living room, the cellular phone gripped tightly in her hand. Although they had had no further contact from whoever had left the note outside Blair's door, she was worried that they weren't the only ones watching the President's daughter. Anytime Blair was without an escort, Cam was fearful for her safety.
'She just went into a bar on Houston,' Mac informed her.
'Name and address?' Cam asked tersely.
'Rendezvous,' Mac stated. After a second, he gave her the address as well.
