Disclaimer: I don't own them, please don't sue all you'd get the mountain of debt that I'm sitting on.
Notes: This is not one of my fav stories, but it did turn out better than I expected. Enjoy.
Rating: PG 13 for violence
Archive: Here, GabesAdventures.com and GabesAdventures@yahoogroups (may not have gotten this one quiet right).
Crossfire
It had been gray all day, not cold or hot or sunny, just gray. Maybe it was the grayness of the day that had drained the crew of The Vast Explorer, rather than the countless dives they had made since eight that morning. Nearly ten hours of diving and all they had to show their client were a few baubles that had scattered around the outside of the wreck. The gang plank from the water seemed longer than when they had set off that morning, as the three member crew dragged themselves up it to the dock.
Mackenzie Previn stared ahead of her at the youngest member of the crew, Gabriel Patterson. He was just as tired as they were but he somehow managed to still have energy. She had to shake her head. He was full of surprises. Though she had to admit that there were times when he was a typical kid and man, but for the most part he was full of surprises. He took being held hostage well, and being lost under the desert for a few hours exceptionally well. It worried her that he could work through things like that almost as well as she could. Feeling as though she and Gabe were the only two making the walk, Mac turned see what was keeping Judson.
"The Bag." She heard someone say behind her. Great first they dive all day to find nothing really and now some jerk was trying to hold them up for it. Quickly setting her pack down, Mac retrieved her gun.
"There's nothing in there." She heard Gabe say. Slowly she made her way toward Gabe and whoever else was there.
"I can see that, boyo. There's three of ya, which one has the goods?"
There were three men. One was obviously in charge of the other two. He was older, more towards his early sixties, than the other two. They appeared to be under forty. One of the younger ones had hold of Gabe, while the older man interrogated him. The other man had disappeared around a corner.
"Can I interrupt, or is this a private affair?" She said as she stepped off the gang plank.
"Sure ya can," the older man said with a brogue turning to face Mac. "I twas just askin' the lad here which one of ya had the treasure, Ya wouldn't happen to know would ya, Lass?"
"Yes I would." She moved closer to the man her gun firm in grasp behind her back. "None of us. There was no treasure."
"Whoa," Judson said as he came up behind Mac. "What's going on here?" He caught a quick glimpse of Mac's gun.
"I want what was brought up from that ship," The old man said pointing to the sea..
"There wasn't any treasure. Just a few pieces of china and some costume jewelry nothing worth steeling." Judson stepped out from behind Mac.
"You're lying." The old man moved toward Gabe. "Give me that bag or I'll kill 'im." He pulled Gabe toward him and away from the younger man.
"Fine, but there's nothing of value in there." Judson set the bag on the ground and backed away.
Quickly the young man snatched up the bag and began riffling through it's contents. Fury etched across the young man's face as he tossed the bag aside.
"'e wasn't lying, Da," his brogue almost thicker than that of the old man. "There's noting in there worth anyting."
"Now you see that we don't have anything, why don't you let him go?"
"You forget that ya saw us," he pulled Gabe along the building with him, "and I'll not come back." Quickly he shoved Gabe away when the third man appeared with a car from around the corner.
"What about the boat, Da?"
"Check it out, but be quick about it." The old man pulled a gun from inside that car and took aim at Gabe. "Don't ya be going anywhere."
"Let him go." Mac took aim the old man's head. "You can search the boat and take what you want but you let him go."
"He'll be all right. I'll not harm him."
"No!" the young man on the boat roared when he heard Mac cock her gun. Running to the top of the gang plank he fired at her.
"Judson!" she shouted pulling him to cover before returning fire.
The dark haired young man fired at Mac's position as he ran to his father. Anger and fear brimmed in him as he saw the kid who was supposed to be the hostage leaning over his father. Coming up behind Gabe he pressed his gun into the back of Gabe's skull. "Help him up," he ordered. "Put him in the car."
Taking a deep breath Gabe did as he was told. Careful to not harm the old man any more than the bullet had already done, Gabe pulled the man to feet. Quickly his fingers worked to pull on the handle and open the door. Once he had it, Gabe helped the man sit in the back.
"All right." Gabe turned to face his new captor.
"Good." He grabbed Gabe by the shoulder of his wet suit and pushed him toward Mac. With smile that belonged to the devil, he fired his weapon at Mac's position. Running quickly toward the car he aimed his weapon at Gabe, and fired. He smiled as he got in the car and it pulled away. Gabe had folded and fallen to the ground from his last shot.
"Judson, you all right?" Mac asked after she heard the car speed off. Something wasn't right, she could feel it. There was blood on the air. She prayed that it belonged to the men that'd attacked them and not Judson or Gabe. She knew that she was all right, and Judson said that he was all right . . . Oh God, she thought as she quickly moved from behind that barrel that had been her cover only moments earlier.
Scanning the dock quickly she spotted a still form halfway between her cover and where the car had been. No, she thought again as she recognized the colour of the dive suit. "Judson!" her voice was shrill and not the stern level of calm she usually kept. Landing hard on her knees she quickly looked Gabe over. There were only two holes in him, and he was breathing.
"Gabe?" Judson knelt next to his young friend.
"He's alive." She quickly began to remove the damp bloodied wet suit from Gabe's still body. What have I done?! How could I've been do damn stupid?! The thoughts swirled through her mind as she began to tear at the wet suit around the holes oozing with blood. This can't be happening. She dumped the contents of the bag she'd tossed on the ground. Scrambling to find something, anything to use as a bandage, she never even noticed that Judson had managed to find a first aid kit and was already pulling a compression bandage from its packaging.
He looked at her with a sad look in his green eyes. "It's not your fault."
What was there to say? She thought grabbing another bandage from the kit, ripping it open she placed it over the wound she'd been dealing with and pressed down hard. A low grunt escaped Gabe's lips the moment that she added the pressure to the wound. Damn it, I just keep causing him pain. She eased the pressure some, using her free hand to check for a pulse.
"Easy," she heard Judson say. Feeling as though she weren't really there, not really participating in the gruesome scene she looked from Judson to Gabe. Gabe had regained consciousness. It was all there in his brown eyes, the pain that he was in and the disbelief at the situation. She hated herself and the actions she'd taken right in that one moment with the look in his eyes. Knowing that he didn't blame her for what'd happened did little to ease her guilt over the fact that she was the cause of all his pain.
If she hadn't pulled her weapon, if they'd just given the men what they had or if she hadn't shot at them then maybe she wouldn't be here kneeling at her friend's side trying to keep his blood in his body. She couldn't bring herself to look at Gabe's paling face. He was so still. How could he be so still when not even five minutes ago he was bounding with energy? How could she have let this happen? She could hear Judson mumbling reassurances to Gabe while he pressed down on the wound to Gabe's left side, wishing all the while that she could be the one with the holes in her and not Gabe. He didn't deserve it; he deserved more; so much more. Since he'd come on board he'd worked so hard to show them that he belonged and that he was more than the rich kid everyone believed he was.
"How's that wound?" Judson asked ripping his attention from Gabe to Mac. One look and he knew that she wasn't really there. She was able to put pressure on the wound to Gabe's right shoulder but she'd checked out sometime after that. God, she's gotta think that this is her fault, he thought staring at her. "Mac!" he shouted at her with an urgency and force he didn't know he could, snapping her back to the situation at hand; keeping Gabe alive.
"What?!" she was a mixture of guilt, raw nerves, anger and fear.
"I need to call for help, I need you to take over this wound." He continued to stare hard at her. In the years that he'd known her, he'd never seen her like this. She'd never let it get to her when someone was hurt. She also took over when someone was injured. She only showed how much it affected her when all was said and done. "Can you do that?" He could tell that she wasn't sure she could do it, but he also knew that she'd say that she could just to put him at ease.
"Of course." She nodded and moved to straddle Gabe's hips. I hope that I don't kill him, she thought as her hand carefully slid under Judson's taking over control and care of the wound.
"I'll be right back." Quickly he scrambled for his bag and the cell phone that he'd tucked away in the front pocket before they left for the dive that morning.
"Mac?" Gabe's voice was hollow and soft, almost a rasped whisper.
"Shhhh, Gabe, don't try to talk," she smiled at him hoping that he'd hang in there.
For a long moment he stared at her with his ever paling brown eyes. He felt bad for her. He wanted to tell her that she wasn't to blame, that she'd done everything she could to stop what had happened, but he didn't have the strength. He could see the guilt she was now feeling in her blue eyes. He needed to hang on. But it's so hard, he thought as his eyes fluttered shut against another wave of pain.
"Gabe?" She was afraid, more so than she'd ever been in her life. He was too young for this. It wasn't fair. "Gabe?"
His eyes didn't open but his breathing did even out. Breathing deeper than before he said, "Wish .. . I had known . . . this was . . . all it took . . . to get you . . . in my lap," he managed between waves of pain, flashing her a smartass smile.
"I told you not to talk." She wanted to cry at his attempt to ease her nerves. Instead she returned his smile.
"It'sokay," he mumbled as his body went slack beneath her.
"Gabe?" she called to him slightly panicked. "Judson?!" she yelled over her shoulder.
**********
This can't be real, Mac thought pacing the hall in front of the waiting room. None of this is real, in a few minutes I'll wake up and everything'll be all right. She folded and unfolded her arms from her chest. She could feel Judson's green eyes staring holes of concern in her through the thick glass of the room filled with plush chairs designed to keep family members comfortable while they waited for doctors to come in and tell them that their loved one was going to be all right. For a moment she stopped her pacing and stared back at her long time friend. She wanted to reassure him that she'd be all right, but the truth was she wasn't all right. She was falling apart and knowing that Gabe was going to be all right wouldn't make life good again.
What about the next time something like this happens? She thought bitterly to herself. There couldn't be a next time, she wouldn't let there be. The minute that they get back to the ship she was going to get rid of them all, hide them somewhere safe; where she couldn't use them to hurt her friends.
Looking at her watch she let her jaw drop. An hour and half ago they'd brought Gabe in and he was still in surgery. If beating on the doors to the O.R. would've gotten her somewhere, she would've done it. But fighting the medical staff wouldn't save Gabe or help her to be rid of her guilt for nearly killing her newest friend. More like younger brother I never had, she amended her thoughts. He had become more than a friend to her over the last few months, though she never would've told him that. And if by some chance she ever did admit it to him or anyone else she'd retract it faster than lightening could strike a beach.
Leaning against the floral wallpapered wall Mac watched the going ons in the hall. There was not a lot going on. There weren't any patient rooms down by the waiting room. They were all located at the other end of the hall. At the nurses station there were a couple of women reading over charts and checking information on the computer. She could hear the faint tapping of the keyboard and wanted to yell at them to stop. She wanted all the noise in the hall, the entire world, to just stop. She wanted peace. The kind of peace she could only get from stopping time rewinding it and stopping Gabe from getting shot.
His being shot wasn't the soul reason she was so upset at herself and so afraid of her self. It was the fact that at least one of his wounds had come from her own gun that bothered her. Her aim was better than that. She had aimed for the other guy, the one that shot Gabe. How could she've missed him and hit Gabe. There was no way that she should've missed. It wasn't like her to miss unless she did it on purpose. And shooting her friend, little brother, wasn't in her. There was no other reason why he had gotten in her line of fire unless she had chosen a bad spot to take cover in the first pace.
It should be me, she ran a hand angrily through her dark mane.
"It's not you're fault," a voice said from somewhere near. Turning to face the familiar face in the doorway, Mac just stared into the bright green eyes of Judson Cross. He leaned into the frame of the door as though he expected her to dispute the fact that he'd just laid out.
"Maybe we should ask Gabe and see what he thinks." She wanted to look away from him. She knew that he was reading her, and she didn't want him to stop. She wanted him to take her in his arms and make everything all right. She wanted him to lay healing hands on Gabe and take back the last three hours. Most of all she wanted to read him. To know what he was really thinking, feeling and wanting. That was the one thing that drove her the most nuts about him; she'd never been able to read him. If I ever figure out how he does that, he's gonna be in trouble. "Oh, but wait, he's in surgery. Guess that we'll just have to wait."
"Mac," his eyes suddenly melted allowing her a glimpse of what he kept hidden away in the dark corners of his mind and soul, "he'll be all right."
"How do you know?" She wanted to challenge him. That wasn't true she needed to challenge him, to make herself feel as though she could be who she used to be. "Did you call Miss Cleo?"
"No." He watched her. She was scared, more scared than any other time before. He couldn't tell if she were more afraid for herself or Gabe. He was afraid for both. Though he had more faith that Gabe would survive his physical wounds than he did that Mac would get past her mental ones. "He's proven that he's tough kid and I believe that he'll pull through."
"Call me when he gets out." She turned from him; she had to leave it was beginning to over power her. The pain of shooting a good friend, the sounds of the hospital and the reassurances of Judson were all pilling up and taking her over. Mac didn't know where she wanted to go other than away from the sounds of the monitors and IV's and Judson. He should've been able to give her the peace she needed to get past what had happened but she just didn't want it. She wanted to take it all back.
"Mac?"
She didn't stop, didn't even acknowledge that she'd heard him call out to her. She just had to go, get away from the noise and the pain in his eyes.
*************
Out side the glass sliding doors of the hospital the noise of the street, comforted Mac. There were no monitors for heart rate, or iv drips to assault her ears. But the hum of the cars and the quiet busyness of the small city outside of London did very little to truly calm her, or even really break through her reverie. The hustle and bustle of a city wouldn't change that her friend had been shot and nearly killed a few hours ago. And that her other friend was still there waiting for news. The fact that she loved both of them didn't help her through the fact that she'd done this. She'd been the cause of Gabe's pain. The cause of him being shot. One of those bullets had to've come from her gun, if not both bullets. In all honesty to herself she didn't understand why she wasn't in handcuffs waiting to be booked at the police station. The hospital had to've notified them that they had a gun shot victim.
Wondering aimlessly through the winding streets, Mac let her guilt continue to weave its way through her mind and heart. Even if she had stuck around to explain what'd happened, there was no evidence to corroborate their story. Just some shell casings and blood stains left on the cement of the dock they came in at.
The old man must've gone down, she thought rounding yet another corner to yet another alley that connected with a street she didn't remember being too. I saw him crumpled on the ground. And that kid forced Gabe to help the old man into the car. The entire scene shot through her mind's eye for the millionth time since it happened. The smell of the guns being discharged, the cry of anguish when the bullets tore through flesh and the thick salty smell of blood swirling through the sea air as the horrors of the events came to light. The image of Gabe laying so still against the cool cement blood oozing from his shoulder and side was burned into her memory.
She'd been through more than what'd happened on the dock that afternoon, but she'd never let herself get close to those she'd seen die before. Life and death mattered to her more now with Judson and Gabe than it did before she met them. Before them she knew what it meant to have a family, but she never really understood the concept of a family. Her father was her only family. If he were even really her dad.
He raised her, moving her from military base to military base after her mom left. Being Jonathan Previn's daughter was difficult, to say the least. Every ranking officer and non ranking man knew of her dad, and not one of them expected less of her than what her father could do. It was different at the last base she lived on. She had just turned twelve when they moved to a base in Texas. Things changed for her there. She finally got her dad to realize that she needed to learn how to take care of herself. Being that he was special forces, she was alone a lot. Not that she spent a lot of time complaining. In that time alone she'd taught herself to strip an A.K., clean it and put it back together. And had bribed the hand to hand combat trainer to train her. Boy was daddy surprised when I kicked that bully's ass right out front of the house one summer afternoon.
And to her surprise he wasn't angry with her for going behind his back to learn how to defend herself. She was almost certain that he would've insisted that she stop. Instead he started taking her to the shooting range, and teaching her to build bombs. Not the normal father-daughter stuff on a Saturday afternoon, but it was time spent with him.
"Hey!" a voice called out behind her, ripping her from the world of thoughts she'd become lost in.
"What?!" she said harshly, pivoting quickly to see you had spoken to her. She wanted to stay in that guilt racked world a little while longer; at least until she'd sorted through shooting a close friend.
"Remember me?" his brogue was softer than it had been the first time she'd heard it, of course the sun had also been in the sky.
"Yeah, I do." She leveled her anger at him. He was the one who'd forced Gabe to put the old man into the car, and the one who'd put Gabe in the line of fire. I didn't have to shoot back, she reminded herself. "You're the reason a friend of mine's in the hospital."
"And you're the reason my father's in the morgue, guess that makes us not quite even." She could almost see the anger coming off him like steam from a boiling pot. "Blessed to have a little brother." He aimed a small pistol at her.
"Funny looking little brother," she said moving closer to him.
"Won't be when you're little friend's dead." His finger flipped the safety off, as she took a few more steps toward him.
I don't think so, she thought as she lashed her hand out grabbing the barrel of the weapon. Allowing all of her anger to give her strength, Mac pulled the gun from the man's hand. Following through with a solid roundhouse kick, she watched the man fall to the ground in a heap. Tossing the gun at his feet, she headed for the hospital.
*************
The halls were brighter than they'd seemed the last time she was there that afternoon. Her guilt and fear began to raise to levels she hadn't experienced in too long a time, when Judson wasn't in the waiting room she'd left him in. As if he'd still be here, she thought heading for the nurses station. I've been gone for how long? There's no way that Gabe was still in surgery, unless . . . No there's no unless. He's out of surgery and Judson's sitting with him waiting for her to show up.
"I'm looking for Gabriel Patterson's room," she said, resting her hands on the counter. "Please."
"He's down the hall on the left. Room 120." The nurse pointed down the hall.
Taking a deep breath she slowly made her way down the hall. The whiteness of the walls threatening to over take her. Focus, she thought closing her eyes and letting the breath she'd taken out slowly.
Shit! She thought as she neared room 110. Seated in a chair outside room 120, Gabe's room, was a uniformed police officer. They must've called in Gabe's wounds, she thought scanning the hall for an escape route. Sparing a look over her shoulder, Mac spotted a hall a few paces back on the left. Doubling back quickly, she turned down the hall. Suddenly droplets of hot liquid were scalding her arm and making small wet spots on her jacket.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, taking a step back from whatever she'd just run into.
"Where've you been?" a familiar voice scolded her as though she were a teenager sneaking back into the house the morning after an all night party.
"Judson?" She looked up into the warm green eyes of her long time friend.
"Who were you expecting, Attila the Hun?" an easy smile crept across his handsome features.
That smile made her want to break down more. She wanted to allow the tears that couldn't fall to come and wash it all away. But that smile was infectious. A slow smile spreading across her lips she said, a little more wryly than she had planned, "Cops actually."
"Well they're back the other way." He slipped an arm around her slender shoulders and turned around toward Gabe's room.
"I know, that's why I'm going this way." She broke from his grasp.
"Why? Do something you shouldn't have?" He tossed his coffee cup in the nearest trash.
"Yeah, I shot Gabe." She folded her arms across her chest, as if holding onto herself would somehow hold her up and together.
"No you didn't."
"Then why are the cops here?"
"I called them. Someone tried to kill Gabe about a half hour ago, but he got away. I helped look for a few minutes but I wanted to be with Gabe just in case they came back."
"They're not here to arrest me?"
"No," he said with a slight laugh.
"The officer outside the door got here about ten minutes ago, so I went for coffee."
"How is he?"
"Why don't we go see?" He once again slipped his arm around her shoulder and lead her toward Gabe's room.
How she wished that she could absorb the warmth emulating from Judson at that moment. How could he forgive her after what she'd done? She shot and nearly killed their friend, a kid. A good kid. And he didn't deserve the pain that she'd put him through.
"It's not your fault." She heard Judson say as though he could read her mind.
Together they walked past the guard sitting at outside Gabe's door. Judson could feel Mac's body tense beneath his arm as they moved farther into the room. He knew instantly that something wasn't right. She would never tense like that just to visit a friend in the hospital. Being nervous was one thing but tensing as though you expect there to be trouble was another.
"Something wrong?"
Without a word she kept moving toward the bed closest to the window. The curtain beside the bed had been drawn, closing if off from view to the rest of the room. The hair of her forearms stood on end the closer she got to the curtained off bed. Pulling back the curtain slightly to reveal the foot of the bed Mac stepped in front the bed. Sitting up slightly in the hospital bed was Gabe. Standing next to him in the same shirt and slacks he'd had on that morning was the youngest of the three would be thieves, with a gun leveled at Gabe's head. The uneasy look on Gabe's face betrayed the wash of relief in his brown eyes.
"Why don't you pull up a chair?" He pressed the gun into Gabe's head, biting into his scalp.
Mac could tell that he wanted to reach up and grab the gun, but the sling housing his injured arm prevented him from doing so. Instead he cringed as the barrel bit deeper into his scalp.
"Why?"
"I want you to watch while I kill him." He motioned with the gun for her to sit in the chair that had been placed at the foot of the bed.
"What makes you think that we're just gonna sit here and watch you kill him?" Judson asked, pulling the second chair at the foot of the bed closer to Gabe.
"I could shoot you first . . ."
"Nobody's shooting anyone," Mac said, moving closer to the foot of the bed. "Shoot either of them and it will be the last thing you do." She kept her eyes locked on Gabe's. There was so much trust there. He was willing to put himself at risk, knowing that she'd save him. How could he be so sure? She moved a little closer to the gunman, hoping that he'd keep the weapon trained on her or even Judson. If only for the next few seconds.
"Want me to start with him?" He shoved the gun back into Gabe's head.
Damn it, she thought stopping in her tracks. Before Gabe had gotten shot she wouldn't have hesitated one nanosecond about taking the bastard on in hand to hand combat. Instantly her mind ran down the list of could-go-wrongs in launching an attack at the man. She could cause him to fire his weapon, killing Gabe. Surprising him with a shove would still cause the gun to go off and Gabe would still die. There was no way she could see around getting Gabe killed. Despite that fact, he still had total faith in her.
"No," her voice was barely a whisper. She wanted to fall back into the chair and stay there until Judson'd dealt with the angry young man, but the look in Gabe's eyes wouldn't let her give in to herself.
"Good girl," he said, his eyes aimed lethally at Judson. "What do you want to happen here?"
"I don't anyone here to die." He inched closer to Gabe's side.
"So why don't you have a seat?!" He moved the gun away from Gabe's head again, aiming it at Judson again.
Smiling at Gabe she moved like a cat toward the man. In an instant she wrapped the fingers of one hand around the young gunman's small wrist, pulling his arm down toward the floor. He yelled in surprise as she shoved his upper body into the wall. Keeping her eyes glued on the man, she could hear Judson rush to Gabe's side and pull him from the bed. With a series of grunts and groans she heard that Judson had gotten the kid to safety.
With a sudden jolt Mac felt her body impact with the bed, her body wanting to collapse to the floor. But the sickening sound of a gun being cocked pulled her back to the reality of her surroundings. Looking across the bed she saw Judson shielding Gabe with his own body. Knowing that their gunman'd gotten his hands back on his gun, Mac did the only thing she knew how to do. With lightening speed she grabbed the barrel of the weapon and twisted it hard against the man's trigger finger. She barely heard his scream of pain as she spun him around so that his back was to Judson, managing to get the barrel pressed in hard against his ribcage as she went. The momentum of the movement caused the revolver to fire. Shocked looks mirrored each other as Mac and the young man both gave off the same look.
For a moment all time stopped. The blood pouring from the gunman's chest seemed to halt, as did the plunge his body was taking toward Gabe's bed. The moment the man's bloodied body hit the blood splattered sheets time seemed to resume. Numbly taking a couple of steps backward, Mac pressed herself into the wall to avoid the nearly dead body as it slid from the bed in streak of crimson to the large while tiles of the floor. Closing her eyes thanking whatever had been looking out for them, Mac let herself relax into the wall.
"Mac?" Judson's soft voice cut through the confusion of her mind.
"Yeah?" her voice was weak and strained.
"You all right?"
"Yeah." She turned her head to face him. "How's Gabe?"
"I'm fine." He lied, as the room suddenly filled with a swarm of nurses and doctors.
*************
"Ah, Mr. Cross, I see that you found you're other friend," said a man in a well worn trench coat.
"Mackenzie Previn, this is Inspector Reed," Judson introduced them.
"I'm glad to hear that you're young friend is all right." He looked her in the eye. "Not to worry, Ms. Previn, I know of these particular thieves and I can assure you that any actions you took were well within the law."
"Excuse me," a short blond woman wearing a nurses uniform said, stepping between Mac and the Inspector.
"Yes."
"We've moved Mr. Patterson to another room, and he's asking for you."
"Thank you," she said to the Inspector and turned to follow the nurse.
"Ms. Previn," Inspector Reed called after her.
Stopping to face the Inspector she said, "What?"
"Thought you'd like to know we rounded up the one from the park. Seems that a few people saw him attack you."
"Good." She turned back to the nurse who was waiting a few steps up the hall.
************
"Hey," she said leaning against the door to the private room he'd been given.
"Hey yourself." He smiled, patting the bed next him.
Slowly she went into the room and sat on the edge of the bed next him. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, so much that needed to be said. But the words, just like the tears, wouldn't come. He had the same warmth radiating from him Judson had.
"Did I ever tell you about this girl I used to know?" he asked, with a bright smile, reaching his good arm around her and pulling her in to him so that her head was resting against his shoulder. "She was beautiful, smart, funny and the most dangerous person I knew . . ."
"Was she?" A smile found its way to her lips, her eyes closing in exhaustion from the days events.
"She was." He brushed her hair back, rubbing her scalp in small circles. "Is she still?"
"She will be," she said enjoying the warmth and comfort of his arm, the pillow of his chest and the gentle way that he was stroking her hair. "Tomorrow." Curling in closer to him, Mac drifted off to sleep.