Honor Bound

"We'll be briefing at 0900, Agent Savard," Megan said calmly as Savard started out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee. Her voice was steady, but her body was still responding to Normani's hands on her. She felt her own hands trembling and buried them in the pockets of her jeans.

"Yes, ma'am," Savard replied, looking back from the doorway. The Commander met her gaze directly, her brown eyes completely unreadable. It wasn't that hard to read Normani Hamilton's expression, though. She was still looking at Megan Pete like she wanted to swallow her whole. Savard figured that if she hadn't walked in at such an indelicate moment, Normani might've been better able to hide her feelings. She usually was.

"Anything you need from me in advance, Commander?" Savard asked, retreating onto safer ground. She didn't imagine privacy was something either of these women had much of, and it wasn't her job to infringe on what little they did.

"I don't suppose you have a report from the FBI field team on when I'll have their videotapes from the park, do you?"

For a moment, Savard looked away, embarrassed. She didn't want to admit that she was out of the loop and had been ever since she'd told Doyle that she'd be happy to work inside with Dawn's security detail—but wouldn't pass him information outside of channels. He'd been angry, but he couldn't order her to do it. It was a messy situation, but she was still FBI, and she'd keep their dirty laundry private. She simply shook her head. "I've had no updates since arriving here, Commander."

Megan nodded, having expected nothing different. She knew Doyle would keep his intelligence reports from her as long as he could. "That's all, then."

Savard left without another word, and Megan turned to Normani, a rueful smile on her face. Normani's eyes were still deep with desire, and it took all of Megan's willpower not to touch her again.

"I'd better get to work. We should have some food supplies within the hour, and your clothes will be coming later today. I sent Grant back to the city this morning—I thought she'd know what you needed."

"What about Stark?" Normani asked, unsuccessfully trying to ignore the lingering ache of arousal deep within her. Much more of this torture, and she was going to lose her mind. "Is she all right?"

"She was cleared for duty, but I suspect she's downplaying her symptoms," Megan said quietly, watching Normani's fingers caress the side of her coffee mug. She had such sensitive fingers. She always managed to find just the right spot, and then she stroked it so... Megan swallowed, tore her gaze away, and added, "Since we won't be traveling for a few days, she may be okay."

Normani tore her gaze from Megan's mouth—which she'd just been imagining on her skin—and asked sharply, "You expect this to be an extended stay, then?"

Megan shifted, leaning against the opposite counter, needing the distance in the narrow space so she could think. She was having trouble focusing on anything except the way Normani touched her when she was hungry. "I don't know yet. At the very least, another day. I'm hoping to have preliminary reports from the ATF bomb center in a few hours. I expect the FBI profiler and the ATF Commander will be here sometime later today for a briefing. All the videotapes from our cameras and the FBI teams—if they cooperate—will arrive along with our computer equipment this afternoon."

"Why can't I go home?" Normani asked softly, thinking that at least there, she'd be able to touch her without someone walking in on them.

Megan heard her unhappiness and wanted to hold her—just long enough to comfort her. "Your apartment building's being checked this morning, just to be sure we don't have any breach in security there."

Normani listened, trying to absorb the magnitude of the investigation, realizing that this wasn't something that would disappear overnight. It was like a huge machine already in motion, unstoppable. She was at the center of the hurricane, and all she could hope for was that the eye of the storm would be large enough to let her breathe—and to steal a few moments with Megan.

"Tonight, then?" Normani asked hopefully.

Megan shook her head. "We don't know enough yet. We assume the car bomb was some kind of message from Loverboy, but it could just as easily be a terrorist attempt on your life—or a warning to the government from some extremist group wanting recognition. It could be the first of a series of bombings that don't involve you personally at all. You're safe here, and until we gather intelligence from the CIA and the anti-terrorism divisions of the NSA and FBI, and get an analysis of the bomb and a few hundred other pieces of information, you can't go home. For the next few days, I'm using this as our command center. I'd like you to remain here for at least that long."

Megan waited, knowing that what she was saying was probably more threatening to Normani than the physical attack on her life. This kind of focus would mean an even greater assault on her privacy and a more invasive scrutiny of her every move. There would be little time—and almost no space—for her to live normally under such watch.

"Do I have a choice?" Normani asked angrily, imagining being surrounded by strangers twenty-four hours a day. Not just in the background anymore, but literally in the same room with her.

"We could have a helicopter take you back to the White House, where the White House guard would handle your security."

Megan held her breath, knowing that, in theory, Normani should be perfectly safe inside the White House. But she knew damn well Normani wouldn't stay there—and there was no one she trusted to guard her properly. Megan would go crazy if she thought Normani might slip away from her security detail and put herself in danger. And she couldn't stand the idea of being separated from her now.

"Why can't you come back with me to D.C.?" Normani asked, risking disappointment but needing so desperately just to be with her.

"I need to stay here, Normani," Megan said quietly, hating to say the words she knew would hurt her. "At least until I'm sure I'm getting all the information I need. It's going to make a difference in the future. Sooner or later, you'll be visible again." She didn't add that Normani would be vulnerable again then, too.

"Well," Normani said dully, struggling to hide the ache of rejection, "better the enemy you know. I'll stay."

"Thank you," Megan said softly. "A few days, and I'll try to get you home again."

Normani looked at her, anger warring with desire. "I hope so, because I'm not sure how long I can bear this."

Megan couldn't stand seeing the pain in her eyes—or being the cause of it one more time. "Normani..." she whispered, her voice husky with need, "I'd give anything in my power to make this different for you. I can't."

Normani stared at her, uncertain whether she wanted to scream or cry. "God, Megan. You don't get it at all, do you?" She took one step closer, clenching her fists to keep from touching her. She wanted her so much. "I don't want you to fix it. I want you to touch me."

Megan didn't have the strength to look into Normani's eyes and lie to her. She couldn't say no—because she couldn't tell her she didn't want her. Not again. She wavered slightly on her feet as she lost the battle with sense and reason.

"Come with me," Megan said hoarsely.

...

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Sorry to leave y'all in suspense! So... thoughts? Let me know :)

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