Honor Bound

Chapter Nine

When the well-built brunette in the tee shirt, jeans and Nikes walked in the door at a little before one a.m., more than a few heads turned in appreciation. She looked like an ex-soccer player, which, among other things, she was. It had taken Ellen Grant a little over an hour from the time Ed Fielding tracked her down at her mother-in-law's in West Chester to make it to the party at Donna Summer's Upper East Side apartment. She had considered changing her clothes and then decided not to, figuring she'd probably fit in with at least some part of the gathering.

Megan sighed with uncharacteristic relief at the sight of her backup. It wasn't so much her bone-deep tiredness that was wearing at her, but the necessity of watching Normani dance with the same woman for the last half hour while trying to ignore the fact that the woman's hand rested very subtly on Normani's left breast.

"Sorry, Commander," Ellen Grant said quietly when they managed to work their way over to one another. "I was at my husband's birthday party."

"No apologies required, Grant. I regret the need to call you away from your family." Megan passed her hand across her eyes, rubbing them briefly, then smiled thinly. "I'm afraid I got caught short tonight. You're bailing me out."

Grant glanced at her in concern, catching the strain in her voice and wondering if she was all right. Megan Pete was a legend to every agent in the field because of what she had done that day in front of Normani Hamilton's apartment, but to her own team, she was a flesh-and-blood hero. "Not a problem. I can take over now, Commander."

"Yes," Megan said. "Thank you."

Instead of leaving, Megan walked through the room and out onto a small iron-railed balcony with a view of Central Park. She took a deep breath of the crisp night air and rested both hands on the railing, aware of the ache in her left side along the ten-inch scar between her fourth and fifth ribs. It didn't usually bother her, or at least most of the time she could ignore it.

"Off duty now, Commander?" Normani asked quietly from beside her. "You look like you could use some rest."

Megan, still leaning forward, turned her head and glimpsed the quick flicker of moonlight playing over Normani's face. The sight caught at her heart. Surrendering for just an instant to the soft undercurrent of warmth in Normani's voice and the real concern in her gaze, Megan let herself relax.

"Yes," Megan answered eventually, "airplane seats are always a little short for me to sleep in very well. Grant's taking over now."

They both knew that wasn't strictly true. She was never off duty, through choice as well as convention.

Normani stood next to her at the rail, close enough to touch her, but being careful not to. She didn't trust herself enough to do that. She wasn't even sure why she had followed her outside. But the night was disappearing and they were here, almost alone. Tomorrow people would surround them again, and she had no idea when they would have even a few moments of privacy. She couldn't bear to see her commander go, not yet. "What's going to happen now?"

Megan watched the headlights far below trace patterns of lights through the treetops and considered the future. It never even occurred to her not to inform Normani of her plans, although some might consider that inappropriate. It was Normani's life that was affected, and she deserved to know.

"We'll need to go to high alert status. I'll talk to Mac and Stark about that tomorrow. You'll need agents physically with you whenever possible, extra security at public functions, and less information about your travel plans made available to the press."

"Everything will be closing down around me, won't it?" Normani asked, sounding nearly as done-in as Megan appeared.

"These are the things that will impact you most directly, yes," Megan allowed. There was much more that needed to be done, and she hoped she could accomplish them without making Normani even unhappier. "I'm sorry..."