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,
I must go down to the seas again for the call of the running tide
I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,
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
Previous : Part Two
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