Chapter twenty-one

24 August 2001

It was still dark when Cam felt Blair leave the bed. When she heard the shower running in the bathroom, she threw back the covers and made her way into the adjoining room. Once inside, she tapped gently on the glass door of the shower before sliding it open a few inches. Blair stood beneath the steaming water, her hair streaming back from her face, her eyes closed. There were smudges beneath her eyes, testament to the fact that she had slept little, if at all, the night before.

"May I join you?" Cam asked softly.

Without opening her eye's, Blair pushed open the door and extended her hand. "Please."

Cam stepped in behind her lover and reached for the soap. Circling Blair's waist with one arm, she drew Blair back against her chest. Resting her chin on Blair's shoulder, she lathered the front of Blair's body with her other hand.

Neck arched, Blair rested her head back against Cam and sighed. "You have the best hands."

Chuckling softly, Cam smoothed her soapy palms over Blair's breasts, then down her abdomen. "And you are a beautiful woman." When she felt Blair stiffen, Cam continued evenly, "And there isn't one part of you I don't love." She pressed her fingers above the spot where Blair's heart beat. "But this is what I love most about you, Blair. What's inside...here."

Blair turned in the circle of Cam's arms and wound her arms around Cam's neck. Pressing her face to the soft warmth between Cam's neck and shoulder, she leaned into her lover, welcoming her solid strength. "With any luck, there'll just be a little scar. If there's more..."

"No scars, no matter how many or how big, are going to make me love you any less." Cam cupped her palm beneath Blair's chin and lifted her face until she could bring her mouth to Blair's. She took her time kissing her, exploring her lips, and then the inner surface, and then the inside of her mouth. She stroked and caressed and worshipped until she felt Blair tremble in her embrace. Then she drew away and whispered, "And nothing will ever make me want you any less."

"How is it that you always know what to say?"

Cam shook her head, her eyes dark as they held Blair's. "I don't. I just try to tell you how much you mean to me. I always feel like I come up short."

"Oh, Commander," Blair laughed tremulously as she brushed her fingers through Cam's wet hair, "believe me. You never come up short."

"Are you all right?" Cam asked as they stepped from the shower and she handed Blair a thick turquoise bath sheet.

"Yes, I think so." Blair wrapped herself in the oversized towel and knotted it just above her breasts. "I know I would have gotten through this no matter what." She reached out and caressed Cam's face. "But your being here for me…I don't think I've ever felt so loved."

Cam tossed aside the towel she had been using to dry her hair and stepped close to Blair. Tenderly, she took Blair's face in her hands and kissed her very gently. "I think I'd go crazy if I couldn't be with you right now."

Blair's gaze softened as she searched Cam's face. "Are you all right? God knows you're not indestructible, even though sometimes you do make it hard to remember that."

"Thank you." A smile twitched at the corner of Cam's mouth. "And I'm fine."

"Then everything will be all right." Blair kissed Cam swiftly one last time and turned to leave the bathroom. "I'll be ready in just a few minutes."

A few seconds later through the open door, Cam heard the quiet sound of Blair talking on the phone. Then very clearly, she heard her lover's words.

"Hi, Dad? Listen, there's something I need to tell you."

The four Secret Service agents gathered in the sitting area of the hotel suite stood automatically when Cam entered with the first daughter by her side.

"As you were, please," Cam said to Mac, Felicia, Stark, and Parker. "Ms. Powell asked to be included in the briefing this morning."

All four nodded respectfully. Stark's expression, however, was worried, and Mac's blue eyes were particularly intense. Felicia appeared serene as always. Cynthia Parker, the newest member of the team, took her cue from the others and waited patiently, her attention on Cam.

"Ms. Powell is scheduled for an outpatient surgical procedure at 0700," Cam said evenly. "I want an absolute information blackout on this. No one gives a statement. No one gets close to her with questions."

Blair settled one hip on the arm of an overstuffed chair as Cam spoke. She was used to Cam's command mode and felt oddly comforted by it, even while struggling with the sensation of being disconnected from everything around her. She was acutely aware that the entire shape of her future could change in the next few hours. Plans she had made, dreams she had nurtured since childhood, and the joy of a newfound love could all be altered by a tiny clump of cells growing uninvited in her body. Those facts were nearly impossible to absorb, and yet she knew she must. Only by embracing the reality could she hope to emerge victorious. She would have her life back, no matter what the outcome of the biopsy. Blinking, she realized that Cam had stopped speaking.

"Sorry." With an apologetic smile, Blair rose. "I just wanted to be here when the commander explained the situation. I know you'll do your best to keep this from the press." She shrugged. "But I also know how persistent they are. If it gets out..."

"It won't," Stark said vehemently, looking from Blair to her colleagues. "Right?"

The series of Roger that's made Blair smile. She reached out to clasp Cam's hand.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with."

Nude except for a thin cotton gown tied in the back, Blair lay on a stretcher with the back elevated to forty-five degrees, a sheet pulled to her waist. Cam waited by her side, their fingers entwined. Stark stood guard just inside the door of the holding area—the anteroom where patients were readied to be taken back to the operating room. Felicia and Cynthia were posted in the hallway just outside, and Mac waited with the vehicle in an underground parking garage. There were no other patients in the holding area. It was 6:45 a.m.

Cam heard a voice in the hallway shout Attention just as Stark snapped into position, hands at her side and eyes front. Andrew Powell stepped into the room with three men close behind. He stopped abruptly and then turned to say something to the man closest to him. His lead security agent looked unhappy but he and the other two men backed out into the hallway. Then the president rapidly crossed the room to stand on the side of the stretcher opposite Cam. He leaned down and kissed Blair's forehead.

"Hi, honey."

"Hi, Dad."

The president glanced over at Cam. "Cam."

"Sir."

"How are you doing?" he asked gently as he brushed a nonexistent strand of hair from Blair's cheek. His blue eyes, exactly the same shade as Blair's, swirled with emotion.

She smiled up at him, her gaze calm. "I'm okay. Really."

"Of course." He regarded her solemnly. "I'm glad you called."

Blair glanced at Cam, then at her father. "I should've called sooner. I'm sorry."

The president shook his head slightly. "I'm sure you had a lot on your mind." He cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I talk to the doctor?"

"No, but there isn't anything to tell just yet. After the biopsy, then we'll know." Blair took a deep breath. "Dad, it's probably going to turn out to be nothing. This is just a precaution."

"I know that," he said with certainty.

At that moment, Leah Saunders, dressed in navy blue scrubs, walked in through a door at the rear of the room. When she saw the president by Blair's side, she saluted smartly. "Sir. I'm Colonel Saunders, your daughter's physician."

"Doctor," Powell said.

"We're about set," Dr. Saunders said, her focus now on Blair. "Ready?"

"Yes."

"I'll just give you a minute then, and the aides will take you back. I'll meet you there."

Andrew Powell kissed Blair's forehead once again. "I'll see you in a little while, honey."

"Dad," Blair protested, "you don't have to stay."

"I can take phone calls here as well as anywhere else." He smiled and stepped back a few paces to give his daughter and her lover privacy.

Cam kissed Blair gently on the lips. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too."

"See you soon," Cam whispered, feeling helpless and useless and furious at her impotence.

As the assistants pushed the stretcher toward the doors to the operating room, Cam walked alongside, still holding Blair's hand, until they reached the restricted area. Then she stood in the doorway until Blair was out of sight. Turning back, she saw that the president still waited, and she rejoined him.

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. I just don't want to go very far." What she wanted to do was shove back through the double doors with the big red Restricted sign, find Blair, and get her the hell out of there.

Something of what she was feeling must have shown in her face, because the president's expression softened and sympathy flickered in his eyes. "They'll take good care of her here. Plus, it will take more than this to knock Blair down."

Cam smiled faintly. "I know. She's amazing."

The president nodded. "Yes, she is."

With her coffee growing cold in a cup on the end table, Cam paced in front of the window in a private waiting room while the president sat on a sofa in the far corner talking on the phone. His security agents flanked the door. Cam had stationed Felicia and Stark in the recovery room where Blair would be taken after her surgery. She glanced at her watch for the tenth time. 0725.

She tried to visualize what was happening to Blair while she stood powerless to help. Hospitals were such cold, impersonal places. She remembered what it had been like when she'd been shot the last time. The lights in the ICU were so bright and the muffled voices so confusing and the disorientation so frightening. And the pain. Jesus, the pain. "I just don't want her to hurt."

"The biopsy shouldn't be too bad," Andrew Powell said quietly.

Jerking in surprise at the sound of his voice, Cam met his eyes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't." He set his papers aside and joined her at the window. "She'll be sore for a few days, but I doubt it will bother her much."

Cam stared at the expanse of green lawns visible through the window, thinking that she was only experiencing a fraction of the anxiety and anguish this man had endured when the woman he loved had gone through something far worse. "I hate not knowing what to do to help her."

"Yes," the president said quietly. "I know."

They stood silently a moment longer until the president's phone rang again, and he turned away with a brief pat on Cam's shoulder.

At 7:50 a.m., Dr. Saunders appeared. The president hastily concluded his phone call and stood. The surgeon looked first at Cam and then at the president.

"Ms. Powell is fine. She's in the recovery room and resting comfortably."

Cam and Andrew Powell both spoke at once.

"What about—"

"Did you—"

The president motioned to Cam. "Go ahead."

"Can you tell anything yet?" Cam's heart was racing and her throat was dry. Even in the midst of a crisis, her heart rate never rose above sixty. Now it felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

"Nothing definitive," the surgeon said apologetically. "We really can't tell anything without a thorough pathologic examination, but I will say that the lesion was small, and I'm quite sure I removed it all. There was a small lymph node in the area that I removed as well. That appeared perfectly normal."

"How long until the pathology report is available?" the president asked.

"I put a rush on it, sir. Sometime tomorrow."

"Can we see her?" Cam asked.

"Yes. She's been sedated, but I'm sure she'll be happy to see you both."

Cam extended her hand. "Thank you."

Dr. Saunders smiled. "Of course." She turned to the president and saluted. "Sir."

"Thank you, Colonel," the president replied as he returned her salute.

"Hey," Blair said thickly, blinking to focus her eyes. "You guys still here?"

"Yes," Cam murmured as she leaned down to kiss her lover's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Hurts a little but…I've taken worse hits than this...in the ring." With effort, she turned her head and regarded her father. "You okay?"

"Just fine, honey. I have a meeting scheduled so I need to leave in a minute. The doctor says you did great."

"I can't...remember anything." Blair frowned. "Damn drugs."

Cam grinned. "Why don't you close your eyes and get some sleep."

"Does she...know anything yet?" Blair struggled to clear her head and failed. "Hate...the waiting."

"I know, baby," Cam murmured soothingly, reaching over the rail to stroke Blair's hair. "We'll know soon. And then we'll take care of it."

"You sure?"

"I promise," Cam said fiercely. She continued to stroke Blair's cheek as her lover's eyelids fluttered closed. Once she was certain Blair was asleep, Cam straightened and found the president's gaze fixed intently upon her. "We'll be at my apartment tonight, sir. I'll call you with an update, if that's all right with you."

"That sounds fine. I can see that she'll be in good hands."

"Thank you, sir."

He shook his head, saying quietly, "No, Cam. Thank you."

Alone, Cam pulled a chair over and settled down to wait. Stark and Davis stood at the door, quietly keeping guard.

"I feel fine, and I'm sick of lying in bed."

Cam had never heard Blair sound petulant before, and she found it rather endearing. However, she hid her smile, preferring not to incite her reluctant patient any further. "How about if we just have our pizza in bed while we watch a movie? You don't have to sleep."

Blair regarded her lover suspiciously. Her breast ached, her head felt fuzzy, and Cam had been so sweet all afternoon, it was making her cranky. She didn't like being taken care of—well, maybe she did, a little. And that was annoying her, too. "What kind?"

"Cheese."

"No pepperoni?"

"Ah—I thought that might be a bit much after the anesthesia and all." Cam eased onto the bed and settled her hand on Blair's thigh. In a husky voice, she murmured, "I got The Mummy Returns,”

"Letterbox?"

"Uh-huh."

Carefully, Blair shifted over to make room on the pillows piled at the head of the bed. "Okay. Cheese sounds good."

"Want a pain pill?"

"No."

"Maybe after you eat?"

Blair started to protest, but caught a glimpse of the worry in Cam's eyes. She covered Cam's hand with her own and squeezed gently. "I will if I need it. Promise."

"Deal. I'll get some paper plates and more soda."

Halfway through the mummy's rampage through London, Blair fell asleep. Cam rose gingerly, gathered up the leftovers, and carried the lot to the kitchen. Her head throbbed, and yet she didn't feel tired. Now that Blair was home, and safe, the last few days felt more and more like a bad dream. It was hard to believe that there could be anything wrong with Blair, let alone something life-threatening. Still, Cam knew it wasn't quite over yet. And the waiting was pure torture.

Leaning against the counter, she rubbed her hands over her face in a vain attempt to chase away the headache and settle her nerves. Then, abruptly, she reached for the phone and punched in a number.

"Mother? There's something I want to talk to you about."

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