Radclyffe - Honor Guards

"Absolutely," Diane interjected, resuming her role as Blair's agent, "Take your time. If you have any questions, I'd be more than happy to answer them, or, I'm certain, Ms. Powell would." She looked at Blair questioningly.

"Of course. I'd be happy to." Blair gestured to the small bar on the far side of the room. "I was just about to get a glass of wine. Would you like one?"

"Yes, that would be lovely."

"I'll see you later, then, Diane," Blair said as she and Valerie turned away.

As they moved through the crowd, Valerie said in a low tone, "I'm sorry. This is awkward. The invitation said it was a private pre-opening showing. Would you like me to leave?"

They had reached the bar, and Blair merely replied, "White wine?"

When Valerie nodded, Blair asked the tuxedoed woman managing the drinks for two glasses and handed one to her companion. She led Valerie to an out-of-the-way spot before speaking again. "Is there a client?"

Valerie's sculpted eyebrows rose. "Yes. A rather wealthy one who I'm quite sure will be making a purchase."

"Cam is here."

"Yes, I saw her."

"Is she any part of the reason that you're here?"

Valerie held Blair's gaze steadily. "No."

Blair sipped her wine and nodded. "I'm an artist, Valerie, and you're an art dealer. If Diane invited you, then she believes it's important for you to be here. So I'm pleased that you're here as well."

"Thank you, Ms. Powell." Valerie tasted the wine. It was a very good white burgundy, much better than the average fare at such gatherings. "Would you prefer that I not speak to Cameron?"

Cameron. Blair took a long slow breath, the corner of her mouth finally lifting in a faint smile. "I doubt there's a lesbian on the planet immune to your charms, but I trust Cam to resist."

Valerie laughed, her alto voice rich and full. "Should I ask if those legions include you?"

"You can ask," Blair replied.

"No, I don't need to." Briefly, Valerie looked past Blair, finding Cam in the crowd. "I already know the answer. I do want to see your work, and I have work of my own to do. At some point, I'd like to say hello to...an old friend."

"I understand." Blair extended her hand. "Please let me know if there's anything you'd like to know about the paintings."

"I will. Thank you. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Powell."

Blair nodded. "And you, Ms. Ross."

2125 7 September 2001

Cam watched the encounter, her expression impassive. Blair and Valerie appeared intensely engaged, but there didn't appear to be any sign of imminent bloodshed. She hadn't really expected there to be. If Blair had not wanted Valerie to attend, she would have said so. And Valerie was much too savvy and sophisticated to be anything other than totally decorous. And, most importantly, Valerie knew that Cam loved Blair, and that whatever they might have shared belonged to the past. In fact, their relationship belonged to a completely different lifetime.

Cam checked her watch. One minute. She keyed her mic to the open channel for all of her agents. "All teams—no one enters the building from this point on, regardless of invitation. Copy?"

A chorus of affirmatives sounded as Cam made her way through the crowd to Blair's side. "Everything all right?"

"Mmm." Blair curled her fingers around the inside of Cam's forearm. "Yes. Fine. You?"

"Sure." At that moment, Cam heard the commotion that she had been expecting and reached for Blair's hand. "I'm so proud of you."

Confused, Blair looked at Cam and then toward the rear of the gallery where a tall, thin African American man entered, followed closely by two more Secret Service agents, Lucinda Washburn, and her father. "Oh my God. Dad!"

The president spied Blair and, grinning broadly, crossed the room with his customary purposeful stride, Lucinda at his side. He kissed a still-stunned Blair. "Hi, honey."

"Dad? Luce?" Blair stared at Cam. "Did you know about this?"

"Only since this morning. And I was sworn to secrecy," she hastily added.

"Don't blame Cam. I wanted to surprise you," the president said, "and you know that I can't go anywhere without someone announcing it. We didn't even let her tell her own team."

"This is so..." Blair put her arms around her father's neck and hugged him. Voice choked, she murmured, "Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me, honey," Andrew Powell whispered. "I love you."

Blair hugged him once more and then stepped back, her smile brilliant. "So, do you two want to look around?"

"How about a guided tour?"

Blair, flanked by her father and Lucinda, turned and headed toward the front of the gallery. Tom Turner, the president's security chief, fell into step with them along with the other agents.

"This has got to be the most exciting gallery showing I've ever been to," Valerie remarked as she stepped up to Cam's side.

Cam looked into the familiar blue eyes, her own impenetrable. "Have you been to many?"

"Quite a few, over the years."

"Are things going well?" Cam followed Blair with her eyes even as she spoke to the woman with whom she had once shared a part of herself, perhaps even a part of her heart.

"Yes. There don't seem to be any repercussions from the situation in DC."

"Good." Cam glanced at Valerie. "I'm glad."

"Well, I only wanted to say hello. And to wish you happiness, Cameron."

"Thank you." Cam smiled. "You, too. Valerie."

As Valerie moved off into the crowd, Cam's gaze had already returned to Blair.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

1000 09Sep01

Report: Team One's pilot and six other men checked out of the Panther Hotel in Deerfield Beach, Florida. Destination: Boston.

1005 9 September 2001

At the sound of footsteps, Diane looked up from where she sat reading the morning paper on her tiny balcony overlooking Central Park. "Good morning! I can't believe you're up before Cam."

"Neither can I," Blair said as she sat in the tan canvas director's chair opposite her friend and balanced a full cup of coffee on her knee. "She has to be totally exhausted not to wake up before this."

"Well, the reception last night did go on until almost four. And the two of you have been running around like maniacs for a month straight."

Blair, wearing only a borrowed T-shirt and her briefs, stretched out her legs and sipped her coffee. "I know. And she's not only had to worry about my security, she's had to worry about...my health."

"I'm sure she can handle it, but these few extra hours of sleep will probably help." Out of habit, Diane lowered her voice unnecessarily. "Where are the rest of your spookies?"

"Probably down on the street with the vehicle. They usually hang around in case I decide to go out wandering."

"You haven't done much of that in the last six months," Diane commented dryly.

"No." Blair smiled softly, thinking that the restless urge to escape her own life had abated since she'd fallen in love with Cam. "I'm getting downright boring."

"Oh, right." Diane snorted. "I wouldn't stray too far from home either if I had that woman of yours waiting for me."

Blair grinned, then sighed and leaned her head back, squinting into the sun. "God, what a weekend."

"Yes," Diane said fervently. "An excellent weekend. Between the Friday and Saturday shows, we sold a total of six paintings, and I anticipate at least four more will go before the end of the week. You, my love, are a great success."

"Maybe." Blair turned her head to regard Diane, her expression pensive. "Or maybe they just want to own something painted by the president's daughter."

"Darling, people do not spend thousands of dollars for souvenirs. Trust me, I know these buyers. And they know art."