Radclyffe - Honor Reclaimed

"Shut up, Diane."

After a minute of silence when it appeared that Diane had taken her advice, Blair snugged an arm around Diane's waist. "This might be the first time in my life I don't know what to say."

"There isn't anything to say." Diane found Blair's hand where it rested on her hip and pulled it inside the sleeve with hers. "Does Cam know why she left?"

"Not really. Do you have any idea?"

"Not a one. I've been going crazy trying to figure out why she did anything she did, including getting involved with me." Diane laughed, a harsh strangled sound. "I'm good, but I doubt it was just the sex."

"Diane..." Blair said.

"I keep thinking I should have sensed something. Seen something in her eyes. God, I should have realized something was wrong when she touched me, shouldn't I?" She turned to Blair, her eyes clouded with pain. "How could I love her so damn much and not know her?"

"I want to kill her," Blair muttered. She'd never seen Diane so defenseless. "I swear to God, I do."

"I love you for that." Diane smiled tiredly and gave Blair's hand a little shake. "But it's not necessary for both of us to be turned inside out by this. She'll have an explanation, and I'll either be able to live with it or I won't."

"You mean you're actually going to give her a chance to explain?" Blair snorted. "Personally, I'd throttle her the second she showed her face."

Diane laughed, and this time there was the smallest hint of pleasure in it. "It seems to me there were a few times that you had the same feelings about Cam. Especially at the beginning, when she did things that made you more than a little crazy."

"She never left me in the middle of the night without an explanation."

"No, she didn't," Diane said with a sigh. "But then, Valerie isn't Cam, and I'm not you."

"Oh, please don't be reasonable. Jesus. Aren't you furious with her? You certainly should be," Blair said with indignation.

"I am angry. I'm angry that she didn't trust me enough to tell me she had to leave, but"-—-Diane held up a hand to forestall another outburst from Blair-—"she warned me at the beginning that she wasn't always free to do what she wanted." She looked back out to the water, her expressidn pensive. "There's an explanation."

"Do you really trust her?" Blair's voice was less accusatory now than curious.

"I do," Diane said softly, tracing her thumb in small circles over the top of Blair's hand. "Last night we made love. I can't tell you what it was like, why it was different than anything I've ever experienced. But nothing has ever touched me as deeply as what passed between us. She told me in every way that she could that she loved me. Do you know what I mean?"

Blair sighed. "Yes. I know. I know there are things that I believe because if they weren't true, Cam would never touch me the way she does. And I wouldn't let her."

"Yes. You and I.. .we know what it's like to make love and never be touched. But it's not like that with them, is it. They get inside." Diane turned back to Blair, not expecting an answer. "If that's not reason enough to trust, then I'm never going to have one."

"If she hurts you," Blair said in total seriousness, "I'm going to hurt her back."

Diane smiled and put both arms around Blair's shoulders. She hugged her, rubbing her cold cheek against Blair's, welcoming the warmth. "I know you would, and I love you for that. But before you make up your mind that she's guilty, let's just wait."

"How long?" Blair stroked her hand over Diane's back, knowing she was in pain and hating the helplessness of not being able to assuage it.

"I don't know. I've never been in this situation before." Diane stepped away, sliding her grip down Blair's arms until she clasped both hands. "I just know that I love her, and I have to believe that she has her reasons."

Blair held back her misgivings, because if she was right not to trust Valerie, time would prove it. If she was wrong, voicing her distrust now would only add to Diane's unhappiness. Instead, she nodded. "Well, you've always had better luck at reading women than me."

"Except for Cam," Diane said with a laugh.

"She would be the exception to all things in my life."

"Thank you."

"For what?" Blair asked.

"For being on my side."

"Oh, sweetie, always." Blair tugged Diane's hand. "Come on. Let's go inside, have some breakfast, and complain about our girlfriends together."

"Wonderful." Diane caught her lip, nearly ambushed by a swell of tears. "That's just exactly what I need."

Blair held fast to Diane's hand as they walked toward the house, her gaze fixed on Cam, who stood on the back deck watching them approach. There were things about her lover she would never truly understand—the fierce drive for justice, the sense of honor that motivated her every decision—and sometimes, like the woman beside her, she just had to trust her heart.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

S tark sat on the side of the bed watching Savard dress, uneasiness coiling in the pit of her stomach like a viper poised to strike. Her fingers cramped as she clenched her hands tightly around the edge of the mattress. The covers were thrown back, exposing the crumpled sheets where they had spent the last few hours curled around one another. How quickly life could move from sated comfort to uncertainty. A litany of entreaties rushed through her mind, but she spoke none aloud.

I don't want you to go. I have a really bad feeling about this. You 're not even really recovered from getting shot, and I know you 're still a little shaky from what happened on 9/11. You 're not yourself. You 're not at your best. You're tired, I know you're tired. That's when you get hurt. Jesus, I don't want you to go.

"I'll probably be back tonight," Savard said, tucking a black polo shirt into jeans only a shade lighter. She picked up her holster from the dresser, automatically checked her weapon, and hooked it to her belt on her right hip. She reached for the FBI flak jacket that she'd left over the back of the chair when she'd selected the clothes from the closet. She pulled it on and swept her right hand beneath the garment to reach her gun, assuring herself that nothing impaired her draw. "If I'm delayed, I'll call."

"Okay." You 're not dressing for a meeting.

Savard turned and looked at Stark from across the room. "Sweetie, don't worry."

"I'm not. Just, you know, be careful."

"I can feel you worrying from over here." Savard crossed the room and gently placed both hands on Stark's shoulders, then bent low to look into her face. "I'll probably spend the entire day debriefing. You know how slowly things happen once the bosses get involved."

Stark nodded. "Well, in case anything.,.interesting happens, you'll...be fine."

"Paula," Savard said gently, settling into Stark's lap and wrapping both arms around her shoulders. "This is my job. Just like yours is to take care of Blair. I know what that means. I know when you walk out the door with her what that means. If I let myself think about it, it would eat me up."

"You're right," Stark mumbled, burying her face in the angle between Savard's neck and shoulder, embracing her. "I just love you."

"Mmm, and I love you." Savard eased her palm beneath Stark's chin and tilted her face up. She kissed her, taking her time, although she had very little to spare. She knew the commander was waiting for her, but she owed Paula this one moment. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that every goodbye could be the last, and she wanted to be certain to say everything that she felt in her heart. She let her mouth slide over Stark's, soft and warm, before she slipped her tongue inside for a final slow caress. "I'll call you later."

"Talk to you soon," Stark said, forcing a smile as she reluctantly let her go.