Six weeks later Patsy gave a sigh of relief when Jenny arrived home alone. McQueen had been released form the detox program earlier in the week and was recertified to fly. Though he had proven himself the morning when he had found out about Jenny’s book, Patsy was glad there was distance between Jenny and the Marine Major.


The Saratoga October 2063

McQueen shook himself. He had let his mind wander back over that trip from Newport Beach to Catalina. It had been the start of many changes in his life. The most important being the ability to kick the greens with a sure knowledge that he would never touch one again. He felt Jen’s head resting on his shoulder and knew she must be asleep. She was always very careful to respect his personal space except when she was coming at him in ‘doctor mode.’ When that happened, all hell would break loose and short of physical violence, he was never able to keep her at bay.

“Jen, you need to wake-up,” McQueen talked softly as he admired the tousled head resting on his shoulder. It took all his control not to put his arm around her and bury his face in her hair. His eyes moved to her slender neck. The scar only half covered by curls made him stiffen. NO! Never again, the words echoed in his head. Never will their anger at my kind be spilled onto you.

“Hmmm,” Jen looked up at him, smiling, thinking she was dreaming. “Hi there,” her voice sounded soft and sexy.

“Wake-up, Jen,” McQueen put ice into his eyes and voice, needing to put some distance between them before he ruined their friendship and took them back to where they had been before war broke out.

“Oh oh, sorry,” flustered, Jen came instantly awake. “I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s ok,” he could relax a bit now, that she was no longer leaning against him. “We need to get back, it’s very late. You go on ahead, I’ll follow in a bit.”

“But...”

“No buts, Doctor,” McQueen was back in control. “It’s not just the in-vitro issue this time. I am your commanding officer.” He knew his argument was a thin one in Jen’s case, but he was damned if he was going to go over the same old ground with her.

She stood to leave, than turn to him in a huff. “My commander? Sure you are Lt. Col. McQueen, Sir, until the next time you end up in sickbay, Sir. Then I’m the one in charge, Sir.” Knowing a good exit line when she heard one, she did just that.

She was descending the almost vertical stairs from the alcove when she heard a voice like ground glass. “Payback can be a bitch, so I’ll be sure to watch my six.”

Damn him! She thought as she blinked back a tear. I can be just as tough as you McQueen!

McQueen heard Jenny’s footsteps as she pounded down another flight of steps. She was angry. He had chosen his words carefully knowing that it was easier for him to deal with an angry Jen then the soft vulnerable woman she had been moments earlier. Hopefully, his parting shot would keep her good and mad for a while. He stood slowly, wondering how this would all work out.

It was after 0230 when McQueen made it back to his quarters. He felt unsettled. Now was when he would learn how much of his peace of mind it was going to cost him to have helped Jen. He was having trouble keeping his thoughts from the past.

Reaching under his bunk, he pulled out his footlocker. Moving his hand caressingly over the Angry Angel insignia on the gun metal gray trunk, he took a deep breath and opened the lid.

Buried deep under his flight suit was a 5X7 envelope. He reached in and found the photograph inside. He shook his head at the nine people in Angry Angel jackets in the picture. It had been taken three months before they had died. They were all smiling and laughing. Even McQueen had a grin on his face, as he looked down into the face of Jenny Kirkwood. He wondered if the casual observer would see the intimacy he saw in the picture.

It was one of the few times McQueen had joined them when they had gone out on the town. The Angels had taken Lieutenant Jennifer Kirkwood, M.D. out for her birthday to a hole-in-the-wall Cuban place for tapas and sangria. The picture had been taken after too many pitchers of the red-fruity Mexican wine. Collins had danced on the table and had challenged Jenny to do the same. Jen had smiled and suggested the picture, instead.

“Come on, you too, McQueen,” Jen had moved to the end of the table where he was sitting and pulled him to his feet. “I want a picture with all of us wearing our jackets.” They had given Jen an Angry Angel jacket and cap for her birthday and she was thrilled.

“Down off that table, Gloria,” Jen called out, her arm still tightly around McQueen.

“Kirkwood, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that,” Collins jumped from the table to join her friend. They all knew that Collins and Jenny had become good friends, but Collins loved to play hard-ass in public.

With one arm around McQueen and the other around Collins, Jenny was the center of the picture.

“You’re drunk Jen,” McQueen whispered.

“Look who’s talking,” Jenny giggled up at him. That was how the picture was taken. McQueen looking down into Jen’s laughing face, his arm around her, holding her snugly against him. Collins pulled close on her other side and everyone laughing, gathered around them.

Jen had been assigned to the Angels nine months earlier. The official version was that it was a test program. It was stated that many of the specialized flying groups needed better medical care and since the only thing they wanted to do was fly, most pilots avoided doctors. If a group had it’s own doctor, someone they could trust, then the problem would be solved. The Angels had been picked as the test group. At least that was the official story.

McQueen had his own theory on Jen’s assignment. He thought, it was another thing the Navy was using to sideline her career. As if sending her to the Moon’s training base on the Sea of Serenity, for the previous six months hadn’t been enough. He found it interesting that her posting on the Moon coincided with the publishing of her book, The In-Vitro Chronicles.

No one had expected her to be able to make a go of it with the Angels, but she had. Most of the them had tried to freeze her out when she was first assigned to them, but she had worn them down. She had even gotten through Collins’ tough-girl exterior. He could remember the first time Collins and Jen had come to the Asteroid together. Webb had made a pass at Jen in the bar. Collins had tried to take a swing at him to protect her. Jen had stepped between the two, telling them that she had no wish to patch up any bruises again tonight, and thank you very much Collins, but if anyone would take a swing at Webb for that pass, she would do it herself.

The change in the attitude of the Angels toward Jenny had started the previous night. As always, McQueen was sitting at his place at the bar, while his squadron was partying at their favorite table. That night things had gotten mean and a fight broke out. Fights were nothing new to the Angels, but this one was rougher than most. McQueen made it a habit to stay out of the way when his squad fought. He had learned early on that when an in-vitro joined in a bar fight, it gave some bigoted son-of-a-bitch an excuse to take a swing or two at him, often using a bottle or club. But tonight he could see that his help was needed, so he waded into the foray.

When they staggered out of the Asteroid, they were bruised and bleeding. McQueen had a cut on his head thanks to a bottle someone had used to slow him down.

“Guys,” Collins snickered. “They gave us a doctor to ‘take care’ of us, why don’t we pay her a visit. If we go to the infirmary, they’ll tip the MP’s for sure.”

“Way to go Collins,” Webb grinned as he swayed on his feet as much from beer as the punches he had taken.

McQueen wanted no part of what the others were planning so he headed home alone. He wondered if he should call Jen and let her know that she was about to be descended on by seven drunk and beaten-up Angels. But decided against it. If he called it might tip his hand and he didn’t want her to know he had been in on the fight.

An hour after he had gotten home someone was beating on McQueen’s door. “Go away!” He called out. His head was pounding and he had a cold cloth pressed against it trying to stop the bleeding.

“Open up, McQueen!” Jen called out. “Now!”

When he didn’t answer her, Jen pounded harder “You have two choices, McQueen. Let me in to check you over, or I’ll have two MP’s ‘escort’ you to the infirmary. If you make me go to all that trouble, I may just forget to use Lidocaine if stitches are required on that thick head of yours. Now, open up, damn it!”

“Oohh such language,” McQueen swung open the door, realizing that she wasn’t going away. “I don’t need a doctor.” He blocked her way, hoping she would give up.

“Let me be the judge. That’s why I get the big bucks and the juicy assignments,” Jen pushed against his chest to move him into the room.

“Lieutenant, I said I was fine,” McQueen tried pulling rank.

“Well it doesn’t look like it from here,” Jen had grabbed his chin and turned his head to the left so she could get a better look at his right temple. “Why don’t you sit down before you fall down?” She headed him toward a table and chair where he had been sitting. There was a bowl of ice water and a bottle of scotch on the table.

“I really am ok, Jen,” his voice softened as she pushed his hair back. “I’ve had worse and taken care of it myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Jen sighed. “It’s going to take at least five stitches to close that wound.” She dug in her gear bag for what she was going to need.

“Thanks, Jen.” McQueen wanted badly to touch her, not sure why.

“I thought you told me once that you didn’t join in bar fights, for just this reason,” Jen concentrated on injecting the Lidocaine. McQueen concentrated on not wincing.

“I usually don’t, but the Angels were getting their tails waxed, I couldn’t just sit there and let that happen.” McQueen shrugged his shoulders. “How did you know I had been in on it?”

“Webb was giving me a play-by-play of the fight, as I patched up Collins and he mentioned that someone got you with a bottle.” Jen’s anger was on the boil again as she carefully sutured. “Marines! You’re all a bunch of macho jerks! I had you pegged for someone with some sense, Ty?”

“What can I say, it goes with the uniform.”

“There you go. It’s going to leave a small scar, but I don’t think it’ll ruin that pretty face of yours.” Bending down in front of the seated man she reached for his rib carriage. “Sit up straight, please,” she ran her hands up and down, checking for broken or bruised ribs.

“You know Jen,” McQueen’s voice came out a husky growl. “You should warn a man before you do a thing like that.”

Jenny froze, her hands on McQueen’s sides. She couldn’t take her eyes away from his. She wasn’t even sure she was breathing. “I...a...I..I was just checking to see...”

“I know that,” McQueen took one of her wrists in each of his hands and removing them from his sides, and pulled her to her feet, as he stood. He didn’t think she realized his fingers still ringed her wrists. “Just remember what you said earlier. Marines can be macho jerks.”

“I...a..a don’t suppose there’s any sense in doing a neuro check, with all the booze you’ve got on board.....” her voice trailed away as she stumbled over the words. They were standing much too close and Ty was still holding her hands. The smoldering blue of his eyes had her caught like a moth to a flame.

“No, I don’t suppose,” he whispered. He could feel her breath on his face and smell the soft rose fragrance that always said ‘Jen’ to him. He could see realization hit her as she turned stark white than flushed. They stepped back at the same time.

“I think that should take care of it. Lay off the booze for at least the next 24 hours.” Jenny babbled as she gathered up her gear. I’ve got to get out of here before I make an even bigger fool of myself than I already have!

Jenny made it out the door before her hands began to shake. What have I done. He’s my patient and I almost kissed him. Hold it Jen, get a grip. He’s no longer in detox. Things are different now. The battle raged in her head as she tried to control the emotional wave she was riding. When she had worked with Ty before, her emotions had been under complete control. Or had they? Even as her patient in detox, she had trusted him, when trust wasn’t something she gave easily. Now she understood Patsy’s dark looks whenever McQueen’s name was mentioned.

McQueen had seen the shocked expression on Jen’s face, when she realized he was about to kiss her. He thanked the powers that be that he had gained control over himself in that final second. Poor Jen, she was just being the thorough doctor that she always was. She had no way of knowing that when she had touched him tonight, it had awakened something in him. If that kiss had started, there was no way he would have been able to stop there. He slammed his eyes shut to keep from picturing them on the floor, a tangle of limbs. Control, McQueen!

He remembered in detox that he had found her attractive. But had assumed it was because he had been too long without Amy. Jen wasn’t the kind of woman that he usually desired. Tiny, Jen, too slim, with big gray eyes and freckles on her nose. No, Amy had been the epitome of his desires. Tall, blue-eyed, very blond with ripe luscious curves, the kinds that filled a man’s hands to overflowing. It had been a long time since he thought of Amy as fire and sex. Grunting he knew those were just one of the things she had used to bind him to her. Not that he had fought it! It was a relief to let that part of his life go.

Tonight, all he had wanted was to touch Jen and feel her under him. Gentle, Jen, all sweetness and light. When had he begun to feel this way? Moving to his dresser he opened a small box that had been in among his shirts for almost 2 years. The light danced on the slim gold rope bracelet that he had bought in Newport Beach after he left detox.

When he and Jen had returned from Catalina, she had seen the bracelet in the window of a closed jewelry shop. He had gone back and bought it for her, but had never had the nerve to give it to her. Running a finger over the fine rope, he realized he hadn’t sent it because it reminded him of Jen. He remembered thinking when he bought it, that it looked like a miniature version of one of the lines on the Windswept. One that had been captured in gold.

The next day, Jenny went into town to shop. Christmas was just around the corner and she decided shop-thearpy was just what she needed. She was tired of worrying about feelings that were surfacing for McQueen. She would handle things as they came. That was the day she ran into Gloria Collins at a shoe sale at Nieman’s, one of the more fashionable department stores in the area.

Collins was about to go to battle with another woman over a pair of very stylish sling-back, black high heels, from the sale rack. Jenny jumped in and distracted the other woman with another pair of shoes. Giving Collins a grin, as the tall Angel walked off with the prize.

“Kirkwood, between last night and this morning, you’re proving your worth,” Collins waved the purchased shoes at the smaller woman.

“Thank you, Gloria,” Jen snickered as she watched Collins rock back on her heels at the casual use of her first name.

The two ended up spending the day scouring the stores for good buys. By the time they returned to base, a friendship had been formed. That night when Collins showed up at the Asteroid, Jenny was with her. No one ever questioned Jenny’s place in the group again.

One evening as the Angels were sitting in the Asteroid talking about plans for the Christmas holidays, Jenny realized this was a perfect chance to mend her fences with McQueen. He had been a bit standoffish since she had almost kissed him, and she could hardly blame him.

“McQueen?” Jen moved to the bar where he was sitting alone. “May I join you?”

“Have a seat,” he motioned to the empty stool next to him. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks. When I finish this,” she indicated a half empty wine glass. “I’m heading back, I can’t keep the hours you guys do.” Jen took a sip from her glass, then looked McQueen in the eyes. She was relieved that there was no knee weakening sensation throbbing through her body, just a nice little buzz. Smiling to herself she thought she must have been over-sensitive the other night.

“I’m going to be sailing to Catalina for Christmas, I would you like to come along. We, Patsy and I, would really like you to join us for the holidays,” Jen offered her invitation with a smile. “That is, unless, you have other plans?”

“No, I was planning on spending the time here, like I always do,” he turned on his stool and looked her over from head to toe. There was no gut wrenching reaction, just a pleasure at seeing her.

“Come on, Ty, it’ll be fun. Besides it’ll keep Patsy from driving me crazy. I can sail that boat alone anywhere, anytime, but Pats worries at this time of year, because there are squalls and the seas can run rough. If you come alone as crew, she can’t give me a hard time.”

“This could be asking for trouble,” McQueen’s voice was rough and low, not sure Jen understood all the levels he was referring to.

“Trouble has never frightened me,” Jen’s chin shot up and her eyes darkened.

“That’s obvious,” McQueen’s oblique reference to the publication of Jen’s book the year before, was the only comment he had made about it in her hearing.

“Don’t you think two bar fights in three days is pushing it, even for an Angry Angel,” Jen threatened, not missing his meaning. “Besides, I’d only have to patch you up again. I, for one, would rather sail than fight, how about it McQueen?”

“Here I thought you were offering me an invitation and all along it was a threat,” the sound of McQueen’s laughter turned heads at the table of Angels ten feet away. The idea of Jen beating him in a fight was ludicrous.

Jenny’s eyes turned to black in an instant. McQueen remembered them that color the other night in his apartment, though it hadn’t been from anger. “It was an invitation. It still is. I just don’t want to argue something that can’t be changed. The book is out. Yes, you were right, it did cause me trouble. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I’d never wish you any trouble,” McQueen sighed realizing he had hurt her feelings by laughing. “But going with you for the holiday, could do just that.”

“I’ll consider myself warned, pax,” she held out her hand to him as she had done once before.

“Pax,” he shook her hand, not sure if either of them were aware of what they had just agreed to. “I’d like to spend the time with you and Patsy.”

“Good. The transport leaves for L.A. on December 22 at 0600,” Jen put down her wine glass and left the Asteroid Bar.

The Christmas trip to Catalina was different from the trip two years ago. There were heavy winds and the sea ran high. The wheel bucked and kicked in McQueen’s hands as they fought their way to Catalina. Both of them enjoyed it greatly. By the time they reached their destination they were tired, wet and cold. But had had the time of their lives. McQueen’s eyes were alive from the battle with the sea. Jen could see it in him and gave him a knowing smile.


The Saratoga, McQueen’s quarters 2063

Sighing, McQueen pulled a slim volume of illustrated poetry from his footlocker. Jen had given it to him that Christmas morning. He read quietly for a minute, letting the words fill him:

Sea-Fever by John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea’s face and the gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call, that may not be denied,
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spum, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife, And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

He could remember being glad that he had bothered to wrap the slim box with the bracelet and put it under her tree. The giving and receiving of gifts was foreign to him, but he had wanted to give Jen something that Christmas. She had been wearing the gold rope when he opened his gift. He had been smart enough, to have enclosed a note with the bracelet, telling her that when she wore it, she would always have a piece of the Windswept with her. Making the gift as much from the boat as from him.

In the back of the book of poetry, he found another picture. One he thought he had lost. Patsy had taken it of McQueen and Jen sitting on the Windswept. His arms lightly around her, as his hands covering hers on the wheel. They were looking into the camera and laughing. Looking closely he could see the gold rope bracelet on her left wrist with her watch, where she always wore it. Flipping the picture over, it was dated May 2063. It was a picture of the last time he had gone sailing with Jen.


Loxley, Catalina & Houston 2063

In early January the Angels were sent on a mission on the Yorktown. There were pirates raiding the mining communities and playing havoc with the shipping lanes. It was the first mission that Jen was sent on with the them and it was hard on her. She had come to care about all of the squad. They would see her face above the landing bay when they got into their pits and she was there again when they returned hours later. She never expressed her worries to any of them, but McQueen could see it in her face, and he was sure that Collins saw it as well.

While they were gone, Jen helped out in the Yorktown’s sickbay, but when they returned she was there for them, to patch up any bruises or injuries they might have received. Always giving each person a post-flight check. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that the Angels would hide an injury from her if they thought they could get away with it.

“Jenny,” Gloria Collins whispered to her friend, who was sleeping on the bunk above hers in the quarters shared by the Angels on the Yorktown.

“Hhmm, Gloria?”

“Ssshhh, wake up Jenny. I need a favor,” Collins whispered. “Get into my bunk and pretend to be me. The upper bunk is easier to make it look like someone is sleeping in it, when it’s really empty. Besides, no one would ever think it’s not you in bed. If my bed looked suspect, they’d know I wasn’t in it.”

“I’m not sure if you insulted me or complimented me,” Jen frowned as she crawled out of bed.

From the next bunk over, McQueen saw a flash of a bare leg as Jen slipped down. Just what he needed, Jen sleeping inches from him.

“Why did you insist I take the upper bunk then, if we were just going to exchange them in the middle of the night?” Jen shivered as she got between the sheets. “And where are you going?”

“You know where I’m going. He finally asked me,” Collins looked really happy for the first time since Jenny had met her.

“You and the Colonel are going to get in so much trouble!” Jen worried.

“Only if we’re caught,” Gloria smiled back.

“He had better be worth it,” Jen muttered after Collins had left. It was then, as she readjusted her pillow that she saw the silver-haired head on the pillow that was inches from hers. I can’t do this, she thought her hand moved involuntarily to the top of her pillow, almost touching McQueen’s. Her eyes closed, she willed herself to sleep.

The Angels were gone from Loxley for three weeks. It had taken them that long to track down and destroy all the pirate strongholds in and around Saturn. When they returned they were to have five days leave. Jenny would have used the time to work at the In-Vitro Health Facility, but the Navy had made it clear to her that she was to stay away until she was reassigned there. McQueen had been right, her book had had consequences that she had never figured on.

“How about a trip to Catalina?” McQueen suggested as he looked at a very tired Jenny on the flight deck of the Yorktown. He and the Angels were flying their Hammerheads back. Jen was going by ISSCV with wounded and personnel on leave. They had just entered Earth’s orbit and were waiting for lift-off clearance.

“You’d really like to go?” Jen’s face lit up at the prospect. She had spent a number of restless nights sleeping on Gloria Collins’ bunk. Since Gloria always went to bed in that bunk and appeared to wake up in it, there was no way Jenny could tactfully make up the bed so her head would be at the other end. Besides she felt safer sleeping inches away from Ty, than inches away from Webb.

One morning Gloria had awakened her to climb back in bed, and Jenny’s hand had been almost touching McQueen's. Each seeming to reach for the other in their sleep. Gloria had pointed this fact out to the shorter woman, not realizing that she had hit very close to the truth.

Jen and McQueen left Newport Beach early on a Tuesday morning. The sun was beginning to silhouette the city behind them. They hadn’t been underway very long when they ran into the first of a line of storms that were blowing down from Canada. The sea ran high, there was rain and some hail, along with high winds. Jenny was very glad to have McQueen along with her on this trip. She hadn’t realized how tired she was from the last few weeks and the extra hands and eyes were a big help. When they finally tied up at the dock, eight hours later, Jen was shivering and blue.

“You go on up to the house and get warmed up, I’ll close down the boat for the night,” McQueen offered after getting a look at Jenny in the dock lights.

“Ty, I can take care of it,” Jenny’s teeth were chattering.

“I know you can, but you don’t have to,” he was rubbing her hands between his to try to warm them up. “Jen, you trust me to sail your boat. You can trust me to lock it down.”

“Ok, thanks,” Jen smiled. She did trust him with her boat, she realized, and that thought scared her. She grabbed her dufflebag and headed up the hill, not wanting to think about it.

Two hours later, after they had showered, and eaten a hot meal, Jenny, McQueen and Patsy were in the living room drinking cappuccino and cognac. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. McQueen had been entertaining Patsy with stories from their recent adventures with the pirates. Jenny was curled up in the corner of the couch. She could feel the rhythmic purring of her cat who had promptly plopped herself down on her feet and fallen asleep.

“That sounded like quite an adventure you two had,” Patsy smiled at both her guests. “Jenny,” she shook her head as she saw that the young woman had fallen asleep with her head on the pillow on the arm of the couch, her knees pulled up. “Would you grab the cognac before she drops it?” Patsy indicated to McQueen. He was sitting on the floor his back to the couch, his legs stretched out in front of the fireplace.

Turning, he took the delicate, balloon shaped crystal out of Jen’s limp hand. He froze for a moment as a memory of that hand touching his as he slept on the Yorktown, flashed through his mind. It had been twice as shocking to realize that she slept wearing the bracelet he had given her. Though, he had said for her to wear it to remember the Windswept. He quickly recovered by reaching for the throw at the back of the couch and covering her with it.

“Is she going to be all right,” McQueen looked over his shoulder, watching Jen sleep.

“She’ll be fine,” Patsy didn’t miss the look Ty had given the sleeping woman. “When she gets too cold on a trip over here this happens. Particularly if a little cognac is added.”

“That’s why you worry about her when she sails in bad weather?” McQueen was remembering what Jen had told him a few weeks ago.

“She told you about that, did she?” Patsy smiled and shook her head. “That’s part of it. I just don’t like her sailing in rough seas by herself. I don’t care how many safeties she and Lars have rigged on that boat.”

“You love her very much don’t you?” It was an emotion that McQueen didn’t understand.

“Of course I do.” Patsy moved to the raised hearth, her stiff right leg resting close to McQueen’s feet. “Just because I’m an in-vitro, doesn’t keep me from giving and receiving love.”

“But how do you control it? Make it happen or go away?” McQueen was swamped with feelings from Amy. Though he was beginning to realize that he had never loved her.

“You can’t,” Patsy nodded toward Jenny. “I guess it would be very handy to be able to turn love on and off like a water faucet, but that’s not how it works.”

“How does it work then?” McQueen finished his cognac and picked up Jen’s glass to take a sip. “I can quote from poets and philosophers, but real life is another thing all together.”

“I can only tell you how it’s been for me,” Patsy looked McQueen in the eyes. She remembered the empty look she found there from when she was much younger. “Love is like the fire behind me. It keeps you warm, it adds light to your life. But like this fire, it needs tending and care. It can also be destructive if one isn’t careful. The trick is learning how to take care of yourself and the fire.”

“The trick can be finding the fire,” McQueen smiled.

“Remember, a fire starts out as a small spark,” Patsy wondered if McQueen was talking about his ability to love, or to be loved. “You have to keep your eyes peeled for that spark. Do you remember a few years ago I told you about Jenny as a baby, looking up at me and smiling? That was the first spark for me. It burned straight to my heart and changed me forever.”

“You were lucky to have recognized it when it happened,” McQueen sighed.

“I didn’t. It felt so good after all those months of being alone, I just let it happen.” Patsy shrugged. “I guess that’s the secret, Ty. You have to let it happen.”

“The problem is that when you do that,” McQueen was looking into the past. “You don’t know if it is a destructive fire or a warming one.”

“That’s not exactly how I said it. You think on it a bit,” Patsy looked at her watch. “Time to wake that one up, before she ends up with a stiff neck,” she pointed toward Jenny. “Hand me the snifters. I’ll lock up, would you help her up stairs?”

Ty sat on the floor watching the woman sleep as he heard Patsy’s shuffling footsteps in the kitchen. “Jen, wake up,” he touched her shoulder as he spoke.

“Hi there,” Gray eyes blinked, than met blue ones. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep." Jenny put her feet on the floor and shoved the throw aside. Much to the complaint of her cat. “Sorry about that Cinders, but you’ve got to watch where you fall asleep.” She grinned up at McQueen and stood, not very steady on her feet.

“Look who’s talking,” McQueen reached for Jen, afraid she would lose her balance.

“I’m ok, just not quite awake yet,” still half asleep she reached for his cheek and gently caressed him. “But thanks for worrying,” she turned and went upstairs. Leaving McQueen thinking about sparks, fires, and a burning desire for a woman he had no business wanting.

Jenny and McQueen spent that winter and spring sailing, whenever they could get away from Loxley. When they had leave they would head to Catalina. McQueen became as proficient at handling the Windswept as Jenny. When they were in Loxley, they treated each other with professional courtesy due their rank and positions. When they were sailing, they became friends.

McQueen kept a tight reign on the building desire he felt for Jen. It had become a test of his self-control. He had pulled out his wedding picture and put it back where it used to stand on his desk. That was another kind of self-control. Every time he looked at that picture he reminded himself of what had happened when he let his emotions get the better of him. Making himself look and remember became a mental exercise.

If Jen remembered caressing his cheek that night in January, she never mentioned it. He knew that they were growing closer to one another, but he couldn’t put a name to their relationship. It was more than friendship, but what was it? Jen sent him mixed signals on a regular basis. He doubted she understood what was going on between them anymore than he did. The only certainties he had regarding Jen were that she cared about him, was his friend, and that she didn’t trust easily, but for some reason she trusted him. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew that he had to do something soon.

The decision was taken out of his hands, when Jen decided to go to the In-Vitro Rights March in Houston. McQueen tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen to him. To make it worse, he couldn’t get away that weekend, so Jen went alone.

“McQueen!” someone pounding on his door woke him from a sound sleep. He had been Officer Of The Day for the last 24 hours and was beat. “Open up McQueen!”

“Collins?” A sleepy McQueen was surprised to find a furious Gloria Collins pounding on his door at an early hour, on a Sunday morning. “What the hell do you want?”

“Jenny’s been mugged in Houston. We’ve got a transport leaving in 20 mikes,” she glared at him. McQueen didn’t need to ask how Collins knew. It was an open secret, when the call would have come into Lt. Col. Smyth’s quarters about the mugging, Collins would have been in bed beside him. That was how she had been able to pull strings and get them a transport so fast, as well.

“Is she all right?” McQueen felt his insides heave, but his expression turned to ice.

“We don’t know, but we’re going. ALL of us!” Collins wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Be at the airstrip in 15 mikes, McQ!”

It was a quiet flight from Loxley to Houston. McQueen sat in the back of the transport, his insides turning to ice. When they arrived at the hospital, the nurses didn’t stand a chance. Eight, very angry Angels, dressed in signature black, descended on the nurses. In no time at all they were let into Jen’s room.

“Jenny, hon,” Collins reached for her friend’s hand. “You’re safe, we’re here now.”

Jenny looked small in the hospital bed. She had a black eye and her left arm was in a cast from above the elbow to the tips of her fingers. Ty could tell by her shallow breathing that something was wrong with her ribs as well.

“I’m ok, really,” Jen tried to reassure the group of men and women around her bed. “Really I am,” she smiled, her eyes meeting McQueen’s.

“McQ,” Collins looked over her shoulder. “You stay with her for a while, the rest of us will keep the nurses out of here. We’ll take turns so she isn’t left alone until we can take her back with us.”

“Sure thing,” McQueen didn’t know if he should curse Collins or thank her. She had given him the time to talk to Jen alone and made it seem like a natural thing.

“Ty? You came?” Jen held out her right hand to him.

“Of course I did,” he checked her over carefully, seeing more bruises and dressings then he had before. His eyes cold, as he fought the urge to hit something.

“It’s ok, I was mugged, it could have happened to anyone,” Jen smiled, but the effect was ruined when she winced.

“Damn it all Jen, I told you not to go to this thing.” McQueen was furious. “Ever since you wrote that damn book, you’ve been a target for every idiot with a grudge against in-vitros.”

“It’s something I have to do!” Her breath caught as a sharp pain from her broken ribs caught her unawares. “I would think you, of all people, would understand.”

“Well I don’t,” he ground out. “Not something like this!” He paced the room, trying to contain his anger.

“I’m sorry, Ty,” Jen’s watched his fury grow. “I didn’t mean to, well to cause...”

“Don’t ever apologize to me, not for this!” He turned, feeling hollow and empty. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”

“No, never you,” Jen whispered as her eyes filled with tears. “Haven’t you figured out by now that I don’t see a difference between in-vitro and in-utero born!”

“Oh Jen,” his anger contained by something stronger. He picked her up from the bed and sat in a chair with her on his lap. Jen was in his arms and for a moment that was all that mattered. He wasn’t a man who gave comfort, so he wasn’t surprised when he moved to kiss her. His hand ran through her hair and she snuggle closer, that was all the invitation that he needed. His lips were millimeters away from hers when his hand in her hair moved against her neck and touched the clear gel covering over the burn.

“What the hell!” McQueen pulled back as he found the dressing on her neck. “Those sons-of-bitches.” He ground out.

Jen felt him stiffen and grip her tighter. Looking up at his grim face she sighed knowing she would have to tell him what happened. But that was all she was going to tell, not what might have happened. After the telling, McQueen had piled her back into bed and paced the room again. His anger in complete control of him. Jen just watched him, wishing he hadn’t found the burn. To have him kiss her would have been wonderful.

“It’s ok, Ty,” Jen watched as his anger grew.

“It’s ok?” McQueen turned to her. His face a frozen mask. Not only was his anger worse because of the burn, but he was feeling guilt because he had used her injury to take advantage of her. “That wasn’t just an ordinary mugging. It was a terrorist attack against an In-vitro Rights worker. A personal attack against you! You can sit there and tell me it’s ok?” It made his stomach clench to picture what had happened.

“I’m alive. The wrist will heal, the ribs will heal,” Jen looked him straight in the eyes. “And the burn will heal. This is a kind of war. There are casualties in war.”

“Lieutenant, this needs to be taken seriously.” McQueen fell back on rank to shore up his eroding feelings. It wouldn’t take much and he would be holding Jen again. This time he wouldn’t let her go, no matter how bad an idea it would be for her.

“You’re feeling guilty?” The truth was beginning to pierce the fog of painkillers Jen was on. “You think because we have had a friendship the last months, it has brought attention to me?”

“We haven’t been very circumspect about it.” Let Jen think that was where his guilt was coming from. In fact, the more he thought about it, there was truth to what she had said. He knew that the Angel’s were aware of something between them. They were gone at the same times too often for it to be coincidence, but none of them would have hurt Jen. But they were seen together regularly when sailing, so anyone could know.

“This is ridiculous,” Jen sputtered. Feeling Ty pull further from her with every second that passed.

“That’s something we can agree on!”

“Hey, guys, what’s all the shouting about?” Tom McDougall stuck his head in Jenny’s room. He had heard McQ and the Doc fighting from the hall.

“Nothing. It’s your watch. McDougall,” McQueen turned and stomped out of Jen’s room.

He checked at the nurses’ station to make sure Jen was going to be all right and to borrow paper and an envelope. It was when he was speaking with one of the nurses that he found out her blouse had been torn off. His blood turned to ice as he guessed the muggers real intent.

“Collins!” McQueen called out. “Give this to Jen,” he handed her an envelope with a quickly scribbled note. “I’m heading back to Loxley.”

“You’re what?” Collins couldn’t believe this was the same man that Jenny was slowly pulling out of seclusion. He was as grim as she had ever seen him.

“You heard me Collins,” McQueen’s eyes were deadly.

“She’s being released in a few hours. Then will be on medical leave for the next few months. We’re going to take her home to Catalina, aren’t you coming with us?” Collins squinted at the man in front of her.

“Why would I want to do that?” McQueen stood very straight, his hands gripped into fists at his sides.

“But I thought....”

“Well you thought wrong!” McQueen turned on his heel and left.

“You cold bastard!” Collins hurled at the retreating figure.

“That’s a medical impossibility,” McQueen mumbled as he pushed through the doors to the hospital. With every step he took, he pounded harder on anything he was feeling. With any luck, by the time he got to Loxley, he would have his emotions beaten into submission.

That was the last time he saw Jen, until he looked out of an ISSCV and recognized a dirty-faced doctor moving toward him. Jen had been on medical leave when war broke out.


The Saratoga 2063

Looking at the picture in his hand had brought it all back. Now what, McQueen looked around his quarters as an idea formed. Putting everything back in the footlocker, except the sailing picture, than sliding the trunk back where it belonged, he reached for the framed wedding photo on his desk. Carefully opening the back of the frame, he placed the picture of Jen and himself behind the one that was already there. Yes, that should do it. Smiling at the irony of the hidden photo.

McQueen had kept up the mental exercises that Amy had come to represent, even after he thought Jen was out of his life. It had helped him in the months that followed. When his life was torn apart again. The Angels dying, being grounded permanently, and then finding a group of young Marines that meant a great deal to him. Now, Jen was back again. His life seemed to move in a circle.

Looking back, he knew that he felt more than desire for Jen. If it had only been desire he knew he would have acted on it. He couldn’t say he loved her, it wished it were that easy. It was an emotion he couldn’t identify, couldn’t find the spark, as Patsy would say. There was a time when he thought he loved Amy, if that was love it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. What he felt for Jen was much more than anything he had ever felt for Amy. Walking away from Amy had been hard because it hurt him. Walking away from Jen had been easy, even though it hurt him. When he walked out of that hospital in Houston he didn’t doubt for a minute that he was doing the right thing. Involvement with an in-vitro man would only make Jen that much more of a target. That was something that hadn’t changed.

Smiling he placed the framed picture back on his desk. To every one else it looked like it always did. McQueen could see the truth beneath the lie. Now he had to go back living the lie to hide the truth. He had promised General Savage that he would keep Jen safe, and he would. That included safe from him, as well.

Next : Chapter Three - Move On

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