A/N: Hello, dear readers. At the encouragement of the vocal (those who write reviews) I have indulged in exploring the relationship brewing between Tim and Mary. When I warn you about this, I am not trying to assert that the writing is bad. I happen to think it's pretty good, myself. What I am saying is that I understand that seaQuest was an adventure show with only a little romance in it. Therefore, diving in deep into ANY romance is a departure and as such, deserves a warning. Before I started the Tim/Mary storyline, I was willing to leave it background, but in for a penny, in for a pound. The sub is in dry dock and I am exploring relationships deeper than some care to read, especially when it involves an OC. Those who are ready to get back to "action", please feel free to skip this chapter and the next. I will return to Washington in Chapter 27. For the rest of you…

Chapter 25

It cost a little more to fly from Havana to Oklahoma City than just to Miami, but if one considered the cost of ground transportation from Miami to Oklahoma, it actually cost less to go entirely by air and it would take a lot less time as well. Tim was a bit nervous about flying after the Fifi, but with a much newer plane and commercial pilots, he should be all right. He couldn't very well avoid planes the rest of his life and it would be worth it to meet Mary. But flying the whole way would put him in the state a bit prematurely.

Um, Mary?

Hey, Tim, what's up?

I'm booking my flight home, but I have a bit of a problem.

What's wrong?

It's easier to fly all the way to Oklahoma than to fly to Miami and spend four days on buses.

A plane would probably be a lot more comfortable too.

Right, so if I'm flying, I have two choices, come early, or date Miguel's cousins. I thought you should know I'll be grabbing a room at the Y in Oklahoma City.

You most certainly will not.

WHAT? Mary had never argued with him this adamantly. Was she this insistent that he date other women? Stunned silence followed.

Tim, Natasha Nightshade works for me. I pay for all her travel expenses, so I get to keep all the frequent flyer miles and hotel rewards points. I don't know why I save them, but I do. I've been saving them for years. Let me put you up in a nice hotel. In fact, let me take care of your flight too.

I said I'd find a way to get there. I don't want you to waste your miles.

I can't think of anything I'd rather use them for. I never go anywhere. Please, let me do this.

Well, I guess so, if you really want to.

I want to. When do you want to leave Havana?

I promised to help mount a satellite dish on Saturday, so anytime after that is good.

Do you want me to leave time for Mass on Sunday?

It took him a moment to figure out how she knew he would want to attend Mass, but then he remembered her contacting Father Baker after the plane crash. The church is close to Miguel's house. I can catch an early Mass. But I don't want to make Miguel get up too early to take me to the airport. How about no earlier than ten hundred—uh 10 AM?

You got it. I'll have the tickets held in your name. You want it under Tim or Timothy?

My passport says Timothy.

Timothy O'Neill it is then. I'll let you know as soon as I've made arrangements. You realize this gives us another problem.

It does?

If you're that close, I don't know if I can wait a whole week.

Taking that as a cue, he allowed a sultry note to enter his voice, not enough to truly sound provocative, just enough to make him incredibly nervous to use it. I have the blindfold ready whenever you are.

She not only picked up on it, but she played along. I may just have to make myself ready then. There was a short pause. Tim, I know this is none of my business, but you sound so different. What have those Cuban women been teaching you?

They taught me that you were right. I didn't go out with any of them, but not because Miguel put them up to it. He didn't. I didn't ask them out because I chose not to. It wouldn't be right when all I can think about is you.

You th-think about me? There wasn't doubt in her question, but her voice cracked with emotion.

Only all the time.

I'm glad you chose not to go out with your friend's cousins. And I'm really glad to know why. I can't stop thinking about you either. I don't want to make any promises, but there is no way I can hold out a week with you that close.

Name the time and place. I'll be there.

Gaaaah! You're driving me crazy already. You don't play fair, you know that?

"Tim!" Miguel called.

I have to go now, Beautiful.

Talk to you later Sweety.

"Coming!" he answered, trying hard to slow down his breathing. He shot up out of his seat and jogged toward the direction of Miguel's voice.

Mary gave him his itinerary when he called her that night. Flight 108, leaving Havana at 1015. Customs and plane change in Houston. Arriving at Oklahoma City 1650. So he would be in the same state as she was by dinnertime on Sunday.

He did his very best to concentrate on the Ortiz family while he was there and did a pretty good job most of the time. Mamacita Ortiz, as everyone called Miguel's mother, only caught him spaced out once, when he was looking out a window. "¿Estás bien?" she asked with concern.

Tim shook himself out of it. "Sí, sí," he insisted.

Miguel mumbled what sounded like 'lovesick' to his mother in Spanish. She smiled and answered 'lucky girl'.

After they got the satellite dish put in, they threw a huge farewell party for Tim during which the three lovely cousins proved Miguel right and tried even harder to capture his favor. Even the male cousins and little kids seemed sorry his visit was over. Marco hugged him so hard, Tim thought the guy had changed places with Dagwood.

"Next time I don't wanna come home, I'm sending you," Miguel said as they parted at the security checkpoint.

Tim smirked. "I hate to break it to you, but I think they can tell the difference."

"Yeah, they like you better."

He scoffed. "Only because you made me out to be a saint."

"Me? What about you? Throwing 'sirs' around like that!"

Tim shrugged. "What're friends for?"

"They're for telling all about blind dates." He raised an index finger. "You'd better call me."

"Email, maybe." Wendy and Lucas both knew too and it was easier to do a carbon copy and explain once rather than have to do it on vid-link, over and over. That would be a drag if this went like most of his dates. But this was the first time in a very long time that he was thinking he had a chance at a second and third date and beyond. At least he hoped he did.

"See you at the captain's wedding?"

Tim nodded. "Oh yeah. Kendall needs a first mate and the captain asked me to be an usher."

Miguel chuckled. "Me too. The captain can't even get married without us, you know." His eyes sparked humor. He didn't have an exaggerated opinion of his own importance on seaQuest or on skyQuest, but he knew it wasn't trivial either. Miguel was the most grounded guy Tim knew.

They chuckled and shared a short hug. "Thanks for having me."

"No problemo."

Tim didn't discover until he got on the plane that he had a first class seat. He buckled in, removed his glasses, sat back, and closed his eyes, feigning sleep.

You didn't have to do that.

Hey, you didn't ring the doorbell. Mary sounded a little…surprised, maybe unruffled.

And yet you didn't even sound distracted. You knew when I'd be boarding. I think you waited for me, didn't you?

Guilty.

Thank you for the first class ticket.

Thank you for being willing to come here, Tim. I still can't believe you're willing to do this for me.

For you? You paid for my plane tickets after I ran off to another country in the opposite direction. You're putting me up at a hotel. You're making me dinner. Sounds like I'm reaping all the benefits here.

She adopted a snarky tone. And just how many guys you know would hop on a plane bound for an undisclosed destination just to meet some crazy girl, knowing they still wouldn't be allowed to look at her? A girl, I might add, who has admitted to being ugly and whose mutual friend confirmed this.

None, he admitted. But it's not 'undisclosed'. I know I'm going to Oklahoma City.

That's the nearest airport. But that's not where I live.

Where's the hotel?

Undisclosed.

Okay, you win that one. I dispute the 'crazy girl' part though.

Wendy can vouch for it. I have extreme agoraphobia.

Having a phobia doesn't make you crazy.

Matter of opinion.

Well, my opinion is that you're perfectly sane.

And you're just sweet. The hotel is sending transportation to the airport for you. The driver will be holding one of those cards with your name on it.

Wow. A driver with a card. I feel like I'm in a movie.

What kind of movie, disaster?

No. Adventure. Mystery. Maybe romance.

R-romance?

Tim took a deep breath. He didn't need it for his voice; he needed it for his nerve. I told you three days ago that I want you as my girlfriend. I didn't mean to blurt it out when I did, but that's the truth. I get very nervous in person, so I'm just going to say it now while I have the nerve. I am coming there to try to woo you, Mary.

Woo? Do people say that anymore?

Not really. I don't talk like other people though. That's part of my problem.

I think it's part of your charm.

And how much charm will I need to woo Mary Sue Watkins? He never would have said that while facing someone. Never. But he loved their mental banter. Why did he hesitate so much when he was in person?

I don't think you need to worry about it. Now I know you made it to the plane, can I leave you for a while?

Writing?

Among other things.

Mmm. Mystery. See? Bye, Beautiful.

Bye, Sweety.

Tim wasn't tired enough to sleep on the flight, which was too bad, because the first class seat was very comfortable. He played solitaire and finished reading the latest Natasha Nightshade novel. The Houston stop was a bit of a drag, but Mary had made sure his layover was no longer than necessary to get through customs and change planes. Landing in Oklahoma City from a domestic flight would mean he could get out of there faster and go straight to his hotel. Not knowing exactly where he was staying or what kind of room he had was adding to his excitement. How much cooler could it get than to be on a vacation planned by the world's top mystery writer? Although, he did find himself slightly worried about the sudden appearance of a dead body.

When he saw the card reading 'Timothy O'Neill', he immediately sized up the man holding it. He was wearing an impeccable black suit that fit really well. He also wore dark glasses and a chauffeur's cap. Tim walked up to him. "That's me."

"Timothy O'Neill?"

Tim found this a bit funny. Who would impersonate him? "Do you need to see I.D.?"

"No, sir. Forgive me. I was expecting someone…older."

Older? He wondered why anyone would have thought he was older, but he didn't dwell on it. This very proper chauffeur was flustered enough for his faux pas. He took Tim's carry-on bag without a word.

"If I may have your ticket, I'll send someone to retrieve your luggage, sir."

Tim pulled his crumpled luggage voucher out of his pocket and handed it over. "Sorry about that. It's just a standard UEO Navy duffel. My name is stamped on it."

"Very good, sir. The car is right this way." He gestured toward the door.

Car? Not a shuttle van? He should have expected that with the way the guy was dressed. He followed the black-suited guy out and his jaw dropped. This was no mere car. And he was pretty sure no hotel sent it either. It was a long, black, stretch limousine. He cleared his voice. "What hotel do you work for?"

"My employer is Ms. Watkins, sir. She said to tell you that the hotel shuttle was delayed and that I am to take you anywhere you wish to go."

Tim just stared for a moment. A chauffeured limo? For him? He found his voice belatedly. "Can you take me to your employer?"

"Do you have an address?"

Tim sighed. He didn't think it was going to work, but it had been worth a try. "Not a clue."

"I have a list of several restaurants that specialize in vegetarian cuisine. Ms. Watkins also recommends the Oklahoma City Museum of Art if you're looking for pleasant diversion."

It was tempting, but he really wasn't interested in visiting a museum so late in the day. He was going to be here for a week. He'd visit when he could spend more time. "Thanks anyway. Just take me to the hotel."

The chauffeur opened the door for him. "Very good, sir. We'll leave as soon as we have your luggage."

Tim slipped into the plush leather seat. The door closed and the chauffeur walked back into the terminal. Tim resisted the urge to call Mary right then. He wanted to pay attention to his surroundings so he could do this all on his own next time. Next time. He was already thinking about finagling another visit, maybe around Christmas. And in the back of his mind, where he wouldn't let the idea see the light of day, he was also thinking about moving here. Henderson lived in Wyoming. Mitchell lived in Arkansas. Smith lived in Maryland. Why couldn't he live in Oklahoma?

Seconds after entering the terminal, the chauffeur returned and stood on the sidewalk in a stance that suggested guarding. Tim looked around the interior of the limo and found a refrigerator with beverages. He assumed they'd already been paid for, so he didn't hesitate to open a bottle of cran-apple juice and take the edge off his thirst. He'd eaten on the plane hesitantly. The food wasn't as good as what he'd had on the Fifi, but it wasn't drugged either, or at least he didn't think it had been. Then again, he could be dreaming all this. First a chauffeur, then a limo, and now a skyhop emerged from the building with his duffel. It could be a dream.

The chauffeur placed his carry-on and the duffel in the trunk and then rounded the car to the driver's seat. The partition was down when he entered. "It was just the one bag, sir?"

"Yes, that's it. How far is the hotel?"

"It's an hour's drive, sir. Are you certain you're not hungry?"

An hour? Well, Mary had said she didn't live in the city, so it made sense that she'd get a hotel closer to her house. "No, thanks. What hotel is it?"

"The new Radisson Xavier, east of here. Would you like to see the route?"

"Yeah," Tim said. He wished afterwards that he'd been more suave and articulate. A ten-inch screen lowered from the ceiling and lit up with the GPS map view.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"The intercom button is on the panel to your right. Please relax and enjoy the ride." And with that, the smoked glass partition rose to meet the roof.

Tim did watch carefully while they were in the city, but once they were on Interstate 40 and he could see by the map that they'd be on the same road for a long time, he lost interest in the driving.

Mary?

Yes, Tim?

You are spoiling me rotten.

I doubt that. How close are you?

To the hotel? He studied the GPS image. It looks like about twenty more minutes. Please don't tell me you put me in the Penthouse.

N-no. But I should tell you…

What?

I rented a suite, Tim. I took the adjoining room. I'm here now, but you don't have to meet me tonight. I just thought maybe if…

Tonight? YESSS! He tried to calm himself and not sound half as excited as he really was.

If you feel up to it. She started talking fast again. You don't have to. I mean, I just wanted to be closer. You know, just in case…um…nothing. I just wanted to feel close to you.

Yes, I want to meet you tonight. Just give me time to shower and change, okay?

I'm not going anywhere. The door between our rooms locks on both sides. We both have to unlock for it to open. I've already unlocked my side, but please knock or call me when you're ready.

I will. Hey, do you think they give speeding tickets to limos?

She laughed. Yes, they do. And I don't think frequent flyer miles will cover it.

Darn, he pouted. His heart pounded hard in his chest. He'd meet her in less than an hour. However, much as he wanted this, he couldn't stop the doubts and panic that accompanied the excitement. What if he screwed this up like every other date he had? What if he lost his best friend because he had insisted on this crazy idea? Best friend. He lingered on that thought a moment. Was she his best friend? He'd always thought Miguel was. But he didn't tell Miguel about his fears and dreams and his stupid bathroom linen. He didn't call Miguel every day they were apart just to hear his voice. But he did share that with Mary.

He decided right then not to try so hard to impress her as to just not do anything dumb or say anything insulting. He had to concentrate, not on winning or wooing, but on simply not screwing up. Then, maybe, if she didn't run away, he could work up to the harder things. Yes, that was the plan. Don't screw up the meeting. Woo and impress later.

He hit the intercom button. "Yes, sir?" came the chauffeur's stilted voice.

"If you see any florists or roadside flower stands on the way there, please stop."

He saw the guy grin in the rearview mirror. "Very good, sir."