Radclyffe - Honor Guards

"Thank you, Ms. Powell," he said as he shook her hand warmly. "We are honored by your presence here today and appreciate your support on behalf of our endeavors."

Cam listened with half a mind as the final speeches wound down. The greater part of her attention, however, was occupied with the details of her exit strategy, Blair had been extremely unhappy with the earlier diversion to the side entrance of the hospital. Cam knew her lover well enough to know that she would not consent to leave that way.

As the audience began to disperse and a crowd of attendees surged toward the stage for a private word with Blair, Cam moved closer still until she was only a few feet away. Stark mirrored her movements. Only someone watching very closely would have appreciated their actions. Blair spoke with members of the staff and potential donors for an additional twenty minutes, her smile never wavering, her words warm and engaging.

Cam had seen her at many public functions and knew her to be supremely adept at the social and political nuances required when interacting with everyone from heads of state to inner-city residents. Despite Blair's reluctance to engage in the politics of the White House, when called upon to represent her father's administration she was not only good at it, but she excelled. Cam also knew that these functions took a toll on Blair, particularly when they involved talking about something as personal and difficult as her mother's illness and death.

At 1730, Cam leaned near and murmured, "It's time, Ms. Powell."

Without turning in Cam's direction, Blair nodded and cordially greeted another smiling individual. Five minutes later, she thanked the president of the Institut and started up the aisle toward the exit.

"It would be less complicated if we used the side exit," Cam advised as they walked.

Eyes straight ahead, Blair's smile never wavered. "I'm sure. But I'm going out the front door."

Cam sighed. In the time since their arrival on-site, she'd had time to adjust for the greater-than-anticipated crowds in front of the hospital and reposition the team. In all likelihood, some of the eager reporters would have left for other assignments in the interim, diminishing the problem further. Although she wasn't happy about Blair's unanticipated exposure under less than ideal circumstances, she allowed that the margin of safety had been augmented to the point that objecting would only anger Blair for little gain.

"As you wish."

"Thank you, Commander."

They stepped into the lobby and four more Secret Service agents converged on them. Seemingly oblivious to the close proximity of the bodies keeping time with her, Blair moved steadily toward the large double doors and the sunlit sidewalk beyond. Cam advised the outside team of their approach with a few terse orders issued into her wrist mic. Then they were outside and the questions began.

"Is it true you're sleeping with several of the women on your detail?" a sharp female voice called out immediately.

"How do you feel about having your lover take a bullet for you?"

Blair stiffened perceptibly but her step did not falter, nor did her expression change.

"How do you think your announcement will affect your upcoming gallery exhibit in New York?"

"Is this just a publicity stunt to promote your artwork?"

When Blair slowed, Cam slid a hand behind her right elbow. "Please keep walking."

"What do you think this will do to your father's reelection possibilities?"

"Does the White House approve of your affair?"

"Ms. Powell," a burly redhead in a short-sleeved white shirt and creased trousers called, leaning far over the rope barricade with a microphone extended. "Why didn't your father run on a gay rights platform, considering that you're a lesbian? Was he hoping to keep that a secret?"

"My father demands equal rights for everyone," Blair answered sharply as she glanced in his direction.

Stark opened the rear door of the Peugeot when Blair was five feet away.

"I want to make a statement," Blair said urgently as she attempted to withdraw her arm from Cam's grip.

"I'm sorry," Cam replied, continuing to move forward while firmly directing Blair toward the interior of the vehicle. "Not here."

And then Blair was inside and Cam was sliding in next to her, blocking her view of the crowd outside. Still, the sound of cameras clicking and shouted questions rang in her ears even after they pulled away from the curb.

With a sigh, Blair closed her eyes. "Well, that was fun."

Cam didn't answer. She checked in with the lead vehicle and follow car to ascertain that the exit route was clear. She didn't intend to have a high-speed chase through the streets of Paris with a pack of overeager paparazzi hoping for another shot at Blair. When she was satisfied that everything was in order, she turned to her lover. "Are you okay?"

"I suppose so," Blair's tone was weary, but when she glanced at Cam, she smiled. "It was about what I expected. I'm just a little tired."

Cam reached across the space between them and took Blair's hand, squeezing gently. "I love to hear you speak. I know it's hard for you, but I can tell that you reached the audience. You accomplished something important this afternoon, Blair."

Surprised and touched, Blair whispered huskily, "Thank you. Thank you for reminding me of what matters."

"I'm sorry about the abrupt change in plans earlier—"

"Are you?" Blair asked, more curious than critical.

"Well—yes and no." Cam shrugged. "I'm sorry to have upset you, but I would do the same thing again under similar circumstances."

"Of course you would." Blair's mouth lifted into a half-smile as she shook her head in fond resignation. "I don't know why I'm surprised every time you behave exactly as I should expect you to. I've never met a woman whom I have so consistently failed to influence."

Cam's brows rose in shocked amazement. "Then you haven't been paying attention, Ms. Powell. Because you've changed my life."

"You shouldn't say things like that under the circumstances. It makes me want to kiss you...among other things."

"See what I mean?" Cam grinned. "My judgment is clearly impaired."

"Hardly that,"Blair murmured, thinking about how effortlessly Cam slipped from her role of lover into that of security chief. That transition both frustrated her and made her feel incredibly loved. Both emotions gave her pause. "That was just the opening bell with the reporters, you know."

"I know," Cam acknowledged grimly. And I hate what that does to you.

"It would probably be better if I gave some kind of press conference and just got the questions out of the way."

Cam shook her head. "I'm not so certain about that. It would simply put you at their mercy and there's no guarantee that the questions would stop. You're the news of the hour and will be until something else comes along with a higher popularity rating. Until then, I think you should continue with business as usual and try not to engage the subject"

Blair rubbed her temples and sighed. "I'll have to think about it. God help me, I suppose I'll have to talk to Lucinda as well."

"All right. If that's what you feel you must do." Cam moved closer on the seat and slid her arm around Blair's waist, "But not tonight, okay? Let it go for tonight."

For just a second, Blair allowed herself to rest her head against Cam's shoulder before straightening up and inching away. "With pleasure."

"Do you have plans for tonight?"

Blair regarded her quizzically. "I had hoped to spend the evening with you."

"I need to make some calls when we get back to the hotel, and then I'll come by and we can discuss it."

Intrigued by the ambiguity in her usually straightforward lover's voice, Blair only nodded as the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. "That sounds fine. I'm going to take a couple of aspirin and lie down for a few minutes."