The Moving Finger Writes

by Lattelady

An epic tale of the Wildcards and Queen 6. Follows McQueen through detox, divorce, loss of the Angels, all that happened druing the Chig War and beyond. Romance, political intrigue and our favorite Marines at their best.

2. Ch: 2 And Having Writ

Chapter 2: And Having Writ

The Saratoga November 1, 2063

Twice during the night Com. Brill had heard Dr. Kirkwood call out in her sleep. The first time, Brill had gone to check on Kirkwood, she was surprised to find Col. McQueen still sitting by the Doctor's bedside. Before Brill had a chance to send him on his way, she watched in awe as the moody Colonel whispered quietly to her patient, and Dr. Kirkwood was soothed, without waking.

"Colonel?" She motioned McQueen to the door. "I thought you left hours ago?"

"I owe a debt." McQueen looked embarrassed for a moment, then his face closed down, grim and serious. "Maybe this will be a down payment on it."

"You owe me a drink for letting you stay," Brill's eyes sparkled. McQueen playing nurse was something she thought she would never see. "And none of that rot gut they serve in the Tun. If I've learned anything in my 20 years in the Navy it's that any Marine 'worth his salt' has a bottle of good scotch stashed away somewhere."

"Well, never let it be said that I'm not 'worth my salt'. You name the time and the place." McQueen gave her one of his half smiles and started to turn back to his real concern.

"McQueen," Brill touched his arm. "Be out before change of shift. I don't want any trouble."

"You won't even know I was here," he whispered as he returned to guard Jenny, ignoring the double meaning in Brill's words.

Joan Brill shook her head. "I think the only thing that is important is that the woman in that bed knows you're here, bucko," she thought as she checked on her other patients. She would give a month's ration points to hear the story behind all this.

McQueen made good on his promise. Brill never heard or saw him again that night. One minute all was quiet, as she did her rounds, the next, she heard water running in Dr. Kirkwood's bay. It was her only clue that the Colonel must have left.

"Up a little early aren't you, Doctor?" Com. Brill asked as she entered the small room. The Doctor was leaning over the tiny sink washing her face. "How did you sleep?"

"A few nightmares. Nothing I couldn't handle," Jenny avoided the Commander's eyes. They both pretended that McQueen hadn't been in the room most of the night.

"How's your head doing?" Brill was fascinated by the woman standing in front of her wearing a hospital gown, short curly hair that looked as if someone had taken a hatchet to it, and a small gold rope bracelet on her left wrist. "There was more than meets the eye to this one."

"Much better, but I hurt in places the medical texts say don't exist," Jen groaned as she stretched. "How are my patients doing?"

"The General was restless during the night, but everyone else slept well. There's a Red Cross transport due in today to take wounded out to the "Clara Barton." As of last night, the General and three of the others were slated to be on it." Brill didn't miss the proprietary way the doctor spoke of the men she had been stranded with.

"I want to see them before they go." Jen stated briskly. "Sorry, Commander," she grinned as she realized how rude she had sounded bossing the nurse around her own Sickbay. "I guess you can take the patients away from the doctor, but you can't take the doctor away from the patients."

"Understood, Doctor," Brill smiled back. "You need to get back in that bed. Pull up something to read, if you like, on the console to your left, but rest a bit more. Breakfast will be brought around in 30 mikes and the Doc's will be rounding not long after that. Commodore Ross left a message that he'll be in to talk with you at 1100 hours." She helped Jen back to bed, then took her through the commands to pull up the ship's library before she left.

Some of what Brill had heard and seen in the last twelve hours was beginning to make sense. Every time she had spoken to any of the men from Kordis, they had a new story to tell of the 'Lady-Doc' and how she had kept them all alive for almost four weeks. The men, particularly liked to tell of the tales that Kirkwood had told them to keep them occupied. Daring adventures about a Marine pilot, they all referred to as 'The Major'. McQueen's presence here, last night, made sense, if Brill's line of thinking was correct. She bit her lip to keep from sighing, "this can only end badly for the little Doc," she thought.
...............................

"Are you up for some visitors?" A short dark haired Marine stuck her head in Jenny's room. Jen thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place her.

"Do I know you?" She had just finished eating breakfast and pushed her tray-table to the side, sitting straighter in bed.

"Sorry, Doc, I'm Lt. Shane Vansen and we're the Wildcards," she indicated, as she introduced each men and women standing behind her. "We helped take you off planet yesterday. We wanted to see how you were doing?"

"Please, come in," Jen welcomed the company, even if it came in a crowd. "Thank you again for what you did."

"No problem, Ma'am. We were glad to help," Wang smiled.

"We come with gifts," 'Phousse added as she held out a black Saratoga coffee mug that she had been hiding behind the tall Marine standing in front of her.

"Well then definitely come in," Jenny grinned as she smelled coffee. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Here you go Ma'am," 'Phousse handed over the mug and marveled as Jenny curled both hands around it, inhaling the aroma, before she took a sip. She appeared to be enjoying the coffee with as many senses as could be brought into play.

"How? How did you know?" Jen took another swallow. They had all missed coffee on Kordis, but this was the closest to a cappuccino she had had in months! She could even taste a slight hit of nutmeg.

"We can't take the credit for it, Ma'am," Wang replied. "We ran into Colonel McQueen as we were leaving the Mess. He commented that the coffee was bad down here, during his last 'stay.' Since he was about to send his usual morning cup back, we took advantage of the situation."

"Oh..ahh..well, please give the Colonel my thanks." Jen kept her eyes on the milky liquid until she was sure her face was under control. She had introduced him to the joys of cappuccino. And he still drank it?

"Sure will Ma'am. You really like that stuff? There are a couple of Tanks that work in the Mess. They make it up for him special, every morning. I could....," Hawkes wanted to make a good impression on the woman who had done so much for in-vitros. He was surprised when her mug hit her table with a thud and she looked at him with cold eyes.

"No one, Lieutenant..." Jen looked on his shirt to verify his name, "Hawkes. No one, uses that expression in front of me! The word is in-vitro, not tank. In-vitro, if you must make a distinction at all? Got that?" Her eyes were laser sharp as she looked into his.

"But Ma'am.." Hawkes was caught out of his depth. He had never run into a natural-born that was so passionate about the issue, unless they were chasing him with a rope.

"Excuse me, Dr. Kirkwood," Nathan cut in. "Hawkes IS an in-vitro."

"All the more reason you shouldn't use that degrading term, Lieutenant." Her voice softened as she motioned Hawkes to her side. "That's one of the many ways people use to control you. If you think of yourself as less, how can you possibly expect others to think of you as an equal? It's bad enough that they take away your heritage?" She shook her head. "Please, don't get me started on this issue. I'll talk your ears off." Jenny picked up her 'almost cappuccino' and savored the flavor.

"Would you autograph this?" Nathan West stepped forward, holding his copy of THE IN-VITRO CHRONICLES. "I never heard you speak, but we were at the Rights rally in Houston. You had been slated to be there, but were scratched at the last minute due to illness.

Jenny held the book in one hand. Her other hand moved to the back of her neck to her scar. She hadn't been sick. She had been mugged just hours before she was to speak at the rally. It was a relief to know that it wasn't general knowledge.

"You really want me to sign this?" She blushed.

"Sure do, Doc. You're a part of history," Nathan smiled at the woman whose book was having such an impact on so many lives.

"That's not why I wrote this," Jenny protested. "It was something that needed to be written, that's all. It was never meant to be about me. It was only to be a small book that told in-vitros where they came from. Give them a reason to feel proud about their century old heritage..." Jen ran out of steam as she faced the grinning Marines.

"Well it did all that, and more." 'Phousse smiled at the woman who had unwittingly caused sweeping social changes. "After Diane Hayden was elected as Secretary General of the World, she quoted your book on the Floor of The World Council, squelching once and for all any attempt to bring back indentured servitude."

"I didn't realize how out of touch I had been. I wasn't even sure who won the election. I've been on Kordis for the last three months." She shook her head at all that had happened. "Do I make this out to you, Nathan?" She indicated the book in her hand.

"Could you sign it to.... Kylen and Nathan?" A silence fell over the room at West's request. Jen didn't miss the tension as she quickly wrote on the inner cover of the book then handed it back to West.

"Thanks.." He read the inscription and caught his breath. 'To Kylen & Nathan: always believe in the future, Jenny Kirkwood.' "Thanks Ma'am, will you excuse me?" West left quietly with the book in hand.

"What did I do wrong?" Jen addressed the rest of the 58th.

"You did something very right, Doctor," 'Phousse stepped toward her bed. She had seen the inscription in the book. "Nathan's fiancée, Kylen was on the Tellus Mission. Nathan was supposed to be there, too, but, well it's a long story."

"Does he know if she's alive?"

"He believes she is. WE believe she is." The four young people shook their heads in agreement as 'Phousse spoke.

"Why don't you guys head back," Shane indicated to Wang and Hawkes to break the silence "'Phousse and I'll follow shortly."

After the men had said their good-byes, Shane stepped toward the woman in the hospital bed. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Dr. Kirkwood." Shane reached to her sleeve pocket. "I cut my own hair, 'Phousse's, and a few others. I couldn't help noticing yesterday....?" Her voice subsided as she pulled out a pair of short sharp scissors.

"You think I need it evened out a bit?" Jen giggled. She had dreaded facing Commodore Ross looking as if her hair had been through a meat grinder. "I'm a good surgeon, but cutting hair just isn't the same. I was trying to figure out how I could get down to the ship's barber."

"Don't go there unless you want a buzz cut." Both of her visitors said at the same time, causing all three women to laugh as they helped Jen to a chair and wrapped a blanket around her.

"It's really not as bad as it could be," Shane ran her hands through the uneven curls. "What did you use to cut it, a k-bar?" She joked.

"Actually, yes" Jenny admitted shyly.

"In that case you did a great job...." 'Phousse saw a dark look come over Shane and the room became deathly quiet.

"I forgot to worn you," Jenny froze as she realized that Vansen and Damphousse were staring at the back of her neck. "Look guys it's just a..."

"It's a burn scar," she could feel Vansen's rage. "And not that old of one either. How in the hell did that happen?"

"It's nothing, really," Jenny denied.

"It looks like something from where I'm standing! Did one of those men on Kordis hurt you, Ma'am?"

"No, no," Jenny protested. "They would never hurt me." She thought for a moment, but didn't see an alternative to the truth. "I'll tell you, but it isn't to go any further and that's an order," Jen spoke with an authority that neither Marine could deny.

"Yes, Ma'am," they both answered.

"Your hair's a bit short in the back. Part of that scar is going to show," Shane added.

"Just do the best you can, please. I'll deal with any questions, if they should arise." Jenny turned in the chair. Gathering courage to talk about what happened.

She relaxed as she felt Vansen run her hands through her hair and heard the quiet snipping of scissors. Both Marines were waiting uneasily for Jenny's explanation.

"Ok,... it was at the rally that Lt. West spoke about.......The one where I was to speak.......Then got too 'sick' to attend....." Jenny talked in fits and starts. She had told most of the story to one other person. His anger had been so great that he had cut himself off from her, convinced that he held part of the blame. "There were five of them......I fought......,ended up with some broken ribs and a broken wrist.........One of them decided......He decided that since I was in favor of in-vitros, that they would give me a navel on the back of my neck. The one who did it was a cigar smoker, I could smell it on him. That's what they used."

"My God!" 'Phousse was shocked. Shane stopped cutting and gripped Jenny's shoulder.

"It could have been worse." Jen swallowed bile as she thought about what they would have done to her. This part she hadn't told anyone else. Ty's anger had been so great as it was, that she hadn't dared tell him everything. It felt good to be able to talk to women. "They had started to...to tear at my blouse, when Cigarman, decided it would be cute to brand me first. It saved me, really it did. My screams were heard and they were scared off."

"Were they ever caught?" Shane asked. Her voice calm, but 'Phousse could see the deadly look in her eyes.

"No, it was dark, and they threw a hood over my head and well.... Look it was months ago... The burn had to heal in order to get optimal results from plastic surgery, but war broke out. And well, I just didn't want to deal with it. It cost me too much." Jen needed badly to change the subject. "How's the hair coming along?"

"Take a look for yourself." Shane helped Jen over to the mirror above the sink.

"You did a great job, thanks!" She smiled at her reflection, then turned to the women who were watching her. "You're right, the scar isn't covered completely. If you should hear any talk, or questions, please, say you heard I received the injury when the ISSCV crashed four weeks ago."

"You gave us an order, Ma'am, we will follow it," Shane looked every inch a fighting Marine.

"Lt. Vansen, you and I know there are ways around that. I may be Navy Medical Corps, but I wasn't born yesterday. It's not for me that I'm asking this." The stuttering frightened woman of a few moments ago was replaced by a commanding personality. "I'm not the only Movement supporter this has happened to. One hears rumors all the time. In the few cases where it was verified, it caused a polarization of factions and violence broke out. The Movement is a peaceful one. Violence only detracts from the real issues and, in many cases, serves to remove any progress that is being made. This is a ship of 5,000 people and I refuse to be the cause of harm to anyone, on either side of the issue."

"Point taken, Dr. Kirkwood," 'Phousse stepped forward and touched her shoulder. "Your secret is safe with us?"

"Thank you very much, not only for the haircut, but also for listening. I didn't realize how much I missed the company of women."

"Anytime, Ma'am," Shane smiled. "We need to be getting back now. Let us know if there is anything we can do for you."
...........................

Jenny looked at her watch. It was only 0930 and she was getting restless. Dr. Voss had been in shortly after her visit from the Wildcards. She had enjoyed the 'Card's stay over Voss'. He had been short tempered, bordering on rude. Although he hadn't said when she was getting out of Sickbay, he had extended her ambulation privileges so she felt free to move about and visit the men who had been her patients.

Reaching for the gear bag she had always worn when in the field, and pulling a hospital robe over her gown, she headed out to see General Savage. She had something she had to give him before he was evacuated to the 'Clara Barton.'

"General?" She knocked quietly on the door of his room. "It's Dr. Kirkwood, may I come in?"

"Come," he called out.

Jen moved to the bed where the General was propped up. He was still pale, but there was no sign of fever. "How are you feeling today?" She automatically reached for his wrist and took his pulse.

"I'm doing much better, young lady. I owe you for my life and for the lives of the men who were with us." A stark white dressing hid his left shoulder and what was left of his upper arm, making the big man look even bigger.

"Not for all of them," Jen bit her lip as she remembered the three who had survived the crash, but she had been unable to save in the days that followed.

"It may not be proper, but given the lack of furniture, Doctor, sit up here beside me, while we talk." Savage patted the bed where his left arm should have been. He waited while Jen pulled herself up to sit where he had indicated.

"That's better, now I don't have to worry about you passing out," he smiled at her. "Lady-Doc, you did all you could do. You kept us alive for almost four weeks, which is just short of amazing."

"General, it's hard, knowing that things would have been different if my working conditions hadn't been so primitive." She raised a hand helplessly pointing where his missing arm should have been. "I am so sorry for having to do that the way it was done."

"Jenny," he gripped her hand in his. "It saved my life. The doctors tell me the flap is healing nicely and I'll be able to be fitted with prosthesis when I get back to Earth. Ok, so maybe not one of the new ones, using AI circuitry, but I'll be fine. Just think how different things could have been, if you had nothing to work with at all, or even worse, if you hadn't survived the crash. We all would have died. 'The past is the past and can't be changed, we can only change how we let it affect our future.'" He grinned at her as he quoted from The In-Vitro Chronicles.

Recognizing her own words, she blushed. "I hadn't realized you had read it, Sir."

"I may not agree with your politics. But I am not a man who restricts his reading to one side of an issue, my dear."

The door had opened as they were talking and Commodore Ross and Col. McQueen arrived for their meeting with the General. "Sorry to interrupt you Frank," Ross called out. "I'd like you to meet Lt. Col. McQueen. He is the man I mentioned when we talked earlier."

"Colonel." Savaged nodded his head at McQueen.

"Sir." McQueen's acknowledgement was respectful, but crisp.

"It's no interruption, Glen. This is Dr. Kirkwood. I was telling you about her last night." A significant looked passed between the two high ranking officers that Jenny missed and McQueen didn't like.

Standing with his back to the closed door, something sharp was gnawing at McQueen's insides. He had heard the gentle endearment the General had used toward Jen and she was sitting on his bed and holding his hand. Maybe, she had changed over the years? Maybe, she was the type to be casual about a strange man's bed? Maybe Savage wasn't a stranger? They had been stationed together for three months. He didn't like what he was thinking so he clamped down on it. Bury it, he thought to himself. This is not productive thinking. Besides, it's none of my business. The winter chill in his eyes was the only clue that all was not well in Tyrus Cassius McQueen's world.

"I should be going," Jenny slipped down from Savage's bed. McQueen was looking through her as if she didn't exist. Where had the man gone who had helped chase away the nightmares? She knew she had moved too fast when black spots swam in front of her eyes and her head rang with dizziness, causing her to grip the side table to regain her balance and pride.

"Dr. Kirkwood?" Ross moved to her side. She had paled as she landed on her feet.

"I'm okay, Commodore," she held up her hand to ward him off. "Just a touch orthostatic,...a..a...drop in blood pressure on a sudden movement." She clarified for the men who were staring at her. She took another deep breath and squared her shoulders.

"I only stopped by to assure myself that you were all right and to give you this before you're shipped out for The Clara." Jen reached in her gear bag and opened the false bottom. "Here you go," she handed over his flight wings. "General, I'm very glad to be giving them back to you, instead of to Commodore Ross, to give to your wife. If you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your meeting."

Jenny walked quietly out of the room, back straight, head high, refusing to look to the right or the left. The only outward sign of nerves was her right hand fumbling with the bracelet on her left wrist. Her dignified exit caused her to miss McQueen's eyes softening momentarily, as they followed her out of the room.

"Your wife? Frank what's going on here?" Ross' eyebrows shot up. He knew his friend had been divorced for years. His ex-wife hated the Air Force and would have probably destroyed the antique wings.

"This," Savage handed the wings to Ross. "Look on the back. Under the clasp, there's a small compartment." Ross followed Savage's instructions, and a tiny data chip fell into his hand.

"Well I'll be damned. So that's why you were so frantic to find them last night." Ross laughed. "The Doctor was too out of it to be questioned then. I was going to talk to her myself this morning. I'm going to have to chat with whoever checked her belongings. And what was all that malarkey about your wife?"

"When I realized how sick I was. I gave the wings to Lady-Doc to keep in case I didn't make it. I told her to give them to you, with very special instructions to give them to my wife. I figured you would know that something was up and check them carefully." Shaking his head when he thought of Jenny. "She's quite something you know. That bag she kept them in was never off of her, even when she slept. The data chip was safer with her than it was with me. I'd bet money that she realized there was more to my wings than sentiment."

"Speaking of Dr. Kirkwood, I did a bit of gentle probing as you asked me to last night. I brought Col. McQueen along, because he came to me with further information that may be of interest to you."

"I'd like to get this settled before I'm shipped out. I owe her my life and I want to make sure she is safe. The information on that chip has waited this long, another few minutes won't matter."

"I tapped into a few of my sources with the Joint Chiefs. It was strange," Ross frowned. He knew Savage wasn't going to like what he was going to tell him. "No one was willing to go out on a limb, but the gist of it was that Dr. Jennifer Kirkwood was to be assigned to a 'very forward' unit for the duration."

"I was afraid of that." Savage nodded as the thought. "That was about the response I got when I tried to get her transferred off Kordis. I pushed harder, then we got so busy trying to keep hidden from the Chigs, it became a moot point. What is it that you can add to all of this, Colonel?"

"I talked to Dr. Kirkwood late last night." McQueen proceeded carefully, not wanting to compromise Jen in any way. He told Savage the story that she had told him, about the defense of in-vitros after Chartwell was killed, and the subsequent closing of the Facility, and all five doctors being shipped out.

"Sir," he turned to Ross. "Is there anyway you could find out where the other four doctors who ran The In-Vitro Health Facility are posted?"

"I'll handle that from Earth, Colonel," Savage cut in. "It might be easier from there, and given my political leanings, there is less chance that I'll raise any red flags. Until we get this resolved, Glen, can you keep Dr. Kirkwood here?"

"I'd be glad to. She'll be an asset to the medical staff of the Saratoga's Sickbay."

"We'll need more than that Glen, if we are to cover her tail and yours." Savage looked thoughtful.

"What did you have in mind?"

"We need to make sure she is assigned to a unit, at least on paper, that sees a great deal of action. That seems to be the message you and I are getting from the Joint Chiefs' office." Savage frowned, "I have to tell you Glen, I don't like this one bit. Either these are some mighty strange coincidences, or someone wants Dr. Kirkwood and her group out of the way permanently."

"I've got the perfect place for her," Ross smiled at McQueen, who got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "The 5-8, Col. McQueen's squad, has two in-vitros in it. What better place to assign her."

"Sir, she's not a pilot, nor a Marine, what are we going to do with her?" McQueen protested.

"This is a paper assignment only, Ty. She'll spend most of her time in Sickbay. One of your people is on loan aren't they?"

"Yes, Sir." McQueen thought quickly and pulled up the pertinent details. "Lt. Winslow is doing temporary assignment with the 42nd, on the Kitty Hawk. She won't be back until late December."

"We'll quarter her into Winslow's spot for the time being. It'll make things look more authentic and be easier for her to acclimate. Before the Lieutenant gets back, we'll move Kirkwood to quarters more fitting her rank. I'd like to bunk her where we can keep an eye on her until we get this mess straightened out. Ty, you and I'll work out the details later. I'll let her know of her change of assignment when I meet with her this morning."

"Sir, I must protest." McQueen didn't know why he was fighting this so hard, it made sense. "I don't want my squad put at risk due to a non-combat trained person."

"Colonel," the General cut in. "Remember she spent over three months on Kordis. During the last four weeks, while we were in hiding, she may have not been the highest-ranking officer there, but she was in command. Once I'm sure it's safe to do so, without calling undue attention to the her, I'm going to see that she is decorated for it."

"Ty, this'll work. Having a doctor with your squadron could have saved us all a lot of trouble and maybe given us a jump on that new Chig 'light bomb' the 5-8 ran into on Tatarus. It won't be any different from when Dr. Kirkwood was Medical Specialist to the Angry Angels." Ross suggested.

"There wasn't a war on then, Sir," McQueen added. The last thing he wanted was for it to be a repeat of Jen's time with the Angels. His self-control couldn't take it.

"You were with the Angels?" Savage asked. He was remembering the stories he had heard about the 127th over the years. Now he knew why some of Dr. Kirkwood's tales had sounded so familiar.

"Yes Sir."

"Do I have to make that an order, Colonel?" Ross raised his eyebrows at McQueen, not understanding the in-vitro's protests.

"No Sir, we'll make it work." McQueen was determined to do just that.

The General gauged the cool-eyed Colonel by the door. He hadn't missed the look of surprised dislike that McQueen had quickly suppressed, when he had first entered the room. Savage had thought it was due to the General's anti-in-vitro political stance. But he had seen the way McQueen's body had tensed when the doctor turned so white and dizzy. Then watched as the Colonel appeared to relax, leaning back as if he didn't have a care in the world, when Ross took charge of that situation. Maybe there was more to this than meets the eye?

It made a man wonder when Kirkwood and McQueen had had a chance to talk. For that matter, Savage knew that the Doctor was no whiner. There had to be a bond here for Jenny to have told McQueen the story that he had just told them. It all added up to a very interesting picture. Was this tough Colonel the source of the Doctor's hidden strength? Savage thought to himself. It looked like Ross had picked the right man for the job of  keeping  her safe. .
............................

"Dr. Kirkwood," Ross stuck his head into Jenny's room at exactly 1100 hours. "May I come in?"

"Please do, Commodore." She pushed aside the console where she had been writing a report of the last four weeks. "Have a seat, Sir. It looks like doctors rate higher than Generals in Sickbay. I got some furniture," she cocked her left eyebrow in humor.

"General Savage has been telling me some amazing stories about you, Doctor." It was hard for Ross to imagine the slight woman, sitting before him, having the strength to do all that she did.

"I did what needed to be done, Sir. I only wish it could have been more." Jen tensed and fingered the gold rope bracelet on her left wrist.

"Were you negligent in your duties in anyway?" Ross' voice was gruff.

"No, Sir."

"Were you careless?"

"No, Sir." Jen gripped the thin rope tighter. "You'll have my report as soon as I get it finished."

"Damn your report," Ross reached over and covered Jenny's hands with his. "Listen to me, Lieutenant Commander, you did your best. From where I sit, that was damn fine. You can't carry the responsibility of this war on your shoulders. All you can do is your best and get on with it. Do I make myself clear? Besides, you're going to break that pretty bracelet, if you're not careful."

"Yes, Sir, and thank you," Jen smiled at him as she forced her hands to relax. When had this become a habit, she wondered, still feeling the imprint of gold rope on her fingers.

"I should be thanking you, Doctor," Ross gave her hand another squeeze before letting go of it. "You saved the life of one of my best friends. Frank Savage may Air Force, but I don't hold that against him, too much. We go back a long way."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're a very nice man, Commodore?" Jenny smiled at Ross.

"Please, Doctor, talk like that will ruin my reputation." Ross screwed up his face into a fierce scowl making them both laugh.

"Don't ever let it be said I tampered with anyone's reputation." Jen countered as she fluttered her eyelashes outrageously.

"Dr. Kirkwood, I see it is going to be a pleasure to have you around." Ross liked talking to Jennifer Kirkwood. She was sensitive, smart and funny.

"Pardon?"

"You have a new posting, as of 1300 hours today." Now came the tricky part. Ross needed to make this sound as if it was completely normal to assign a doctor to a Marine Aviator Calvary Unit. "I know you've been with the General for the lasts three months, but I approached him to see if he would release you to serve on the Saratoga."

"You'll have to excuse me, Commodore, but I wasn't aware that was how assignments were given." Jen had a feeling she was being maneuvered, and didn't like it.

"They usually aren't, but I have a squad with some special needs, and we're understaffed in Sickbay. Since you were only on loan to the Air Force for the Kordis assignment, you fill the bill." Ross looked her in the eyes and dared her to call him a lair.

"This squad? What kind of special needs, Sir?" Jenny was skeptical, but couldn't figure out why the Commodore would be trying to pull a fast one on her.

"The 58th, Colonel McQueen's squad, has two in-vitros. Since you have a specialty in that area, the plan is for you to split your time between them and the Saratoga's Sickbay. I believe you've worked with the Colonel when you were both with the 127th."

Oh, Lord, that was why McQueen had looked as if he was about to spit nails when she had seen him in the General's room. He thought of her as nothing but trouble. Unfortunately, passing out at his feet on Kordis only proved his point. This didn't feel right to Jenny. She was missing a piece of the puzzle.

"What's really going on here, Sir?" Jenny challenged.

"You have been given a new assignment, Lieutenant Commander," Ross brazened it out. "Dr. Voss is releasing you from here this afternoon. I'll see that Col. McQueen has one of his people escort you to your new quarters. I'm told it will be a few days before you're fit to return to active duty, so use the time wisely."

"Yes, Sir." Things were spiraling out of Jenny's control again and she didn't like it.
...............................

The Wildcard's Quarters early November 2063

Jenny fought in her sleep. No matter how fast she tied off a vessel, another one would appear and bleed. The old pattern became a mantra: tie, tie, cut; tie, tie, cut. Nothing was working, she couldn't stop the bleeding. She would have given her soul for a laser lig-a-ture. She was back in the cave and there were bodies everywhere. Her hands were covered in blood as she looked around in despair. She hadn't been able to save any of them. Then there was a light at the entrance to the cave. Ty was there, holding out his hand and calling her name. She turned and ran toward him, but just as she touched his fingers, they turned to dust and a laugh could be heard echoing back at her. You don't think I'm really alive do you?

She jerked herself awake, her hands covering her mouth. She looked around frantically, but everyone else seemed to be asleep. Her heart was pounding and her tank top was damp with sweat. Getting quickly out of bed she pulled on a pair of sweat pants and shoes. Quietly moving to the door, she slipped out of the quarters she shared with the Wildcards. This wasn't working out. She didn't know which she was more afraid of: her nightmares; or accidentally waking one of the young Marines as she called out their commanding officer's name in her sleep.

It was the third night in a row Jenny's dreams had sent her walking through the darkened corridors of the Saratoga. Tonight's was the worst since she had left Kordis. She knew the cause was the telegram she had hidden under her pillow. The one she had received today notifying her of Carmine Delaney's death on an obscure moon in an out-of-the-way sector of space. It was hard to imagine the gentle old doctor dead in a horrific battle.

Breathing deeply she concentrated on the slight rumble of engines that could be heard moving through the deck plating. Daytime noises obscured the gentle voice of the great ship. It was only at night that one could hear it. Like hearing footsteps on Broadway at dawn. She grinned to herself, you've been watching too many old vids, my girl. But oh, it helped take the mind off what was really important.

"Jen?" McQueen spoke quietly. The woman passing him in the hall had been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn't seen him. "What are you doing wandering around at this hour of the night?"

"I..a.." She stuttered. He had caught her completely off guard.

"Insomnia or nightmares?" One look in her eyes and he had the answer to his question.

"A bit of both," she bit her lip, embarrassed. If anyone had to find her, why did it have to be McQueen? Since she had been assigned to his squad, three days earlier, he had taken to sending her terse messages by way of Vansen or West, when he bothered to communicate with her at all.

"Come with me," he knew just how to help her. He would tally the cost to his composure later. "I've got an idea that might help."

"Ty, I'm not going to the gym at this hour. I've already worked out once today." She noticed his sweat suit and knew where he had been heading when she ran into him.

"That's good," he turned to head back where he had come from. "That's one less argument we'll have, tonight."

Five minutes, and a number of flights of stairs later they were in a small windowed alcove high above the port docking bays.

"Oh my!" Jen shivered in awe as she looked out into space with an unrestricted view for 180 degrees. Her sweat damp tank top cold against her now dried skin, made her shiver again. "This is incredible."

"Take this." McQueen pulled his sweatshirt over his head. Leaving him in sweat pants and a black t-shirt.

"I can't. What about you?" Her protests were lost as he shoved it over her head and she was enveloped by the scent of him. His body-warmed shirt felt good against her skin. It was as if she was surrounding by him. Jenny locked her knees tightly so she didn't fall over as sensations assailed her.

"Don't argue with me, Jen. I'm not the one running around the ship inadequately dressed." He pulled the waistband below her hips shaking his head at her and helping her sit on a ledge that allowed just enough room for two.

"Thanks," she said gathering her arms around her and tucking her nose into the soft material of McQueen's sweatshirt. She inhaled deeply. Delaying tactics, that's what she needed. The man sitting next to her was too perceptive and all her defenses were down. She needed to reconstruct her walls before he took a good look at her again, or she would embarrass them both. "Why do l always smell Hammerhead fuel when I'm around you?"

McQueen snorted as he was caught by surprise. A thing that didn't happen very often, but the woman sitting next to him had an uncanny knack of doing just that. "Hammerhead fuel you say?"

"Yes," she breathed against the shirt again. "And I think sandalwood aftershave? I remember the mixture of scents as far back as the detox clinic."

"Very good. Anyone who works around the Hammers will end up with that smell. It's from the residue that's left from the clean burn of HE3. You can't see it, but it's there. It gets on your hands and clothes and even the Saratoga's industrial strength laundry won't get it out." Laughing McQueen didn't realize that anyone but a pilot or member of the flight crew would have picked up on that detail. He also, realized she was trying to change the subject.

"No more straw dogs, Jen. Talk to me." His voice was just above a whisper as he stared out into the night.

"You're a quick learner." She sighed, recognizing words she had used on him more than once.

"I had a good teacher. So don't change the subject." He was watching her reflection in the glass. She looked like she was surrounded by stars.

"I'm having dreams of the last months, since the war began." Her voice cracked. "All the death I've seen and couldn't stop."

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

"What I've seen. What I've experienced. It's so....." Jen searched for the right words. "It's hard to talk to anyone about it. And you...well it didn't seem fair to bring it to you."

McQueen had expected her to say almost anything but that. Jen, always the doctor! He was angered that she still thought of him as her patient. Would he never get out of detox in her mind? He sat there in the quiet, listening to her breathing. Trying to pull his anger in and letting her words play through his mind a second time.

"It's so beautiful here. It's hard to imagine that a war is going on out there somewhere." Jenny tried to deflect the anger that was filling the small space between them.

"You didn't think I would understand?" McQueen wasn't going to let her bury his question in small talk.

"No!" Jenny turned to him. Her walls frail, but in place enough to withstand his scrutiny in the shadowy corners. "That's not it at all. I was....embarrassed. My problems seem so trivial. You've been through so much more."

"Oh, Jen, no. Never that. What you went through was the worst for you. I hope you never have to go through anything more. There is no need to be embarrassed." McQueen looked deep into Jenny's face, but saw only shadows. "Once when I needed it badly, you shared your sky and stars with me. Do you know when I'm talking about?"

"I remember. That first trip to Catalina." Her voice crackled with tears she was fighting to keep locked in her throat.

"Some people say that in-vitros don't have souls, but if we do, that trip saved mine." He wished he could see Jen's face. See what she was really thinking. He could tell she was hurting, but he didn't know how to make it go away. Amy had always said he didn't have a clue how to give comfort. She was right about that. Up until now, it hadn't really mattered.

"I never knew?" She looked up, her hand in a tight fist against his arm to keep from reaching out for him. "I never knew it meant that much to you."

"It did. I had hit bottom and you showed me freedom. Not just freedom to leave the clinic, but a freedom of spirit that I had only experienced when I flew." McQueen looked over Jen's head at the stars out the window, letting them replenish him. "You see, I always knew that someday I wouldn't be able to fly any longer. I didn't expect it to happen so soon, in fact, I hoped I would go down with my Hammer. But the fear of something like this happening ate at me. You gave me the means to overcome that and much more. I've always wondered how you knew what I needed."

"I looked in your eyes and saw the same thing that I see when I look in my mirror sometimes." Jenny shrugged. "You need to touch the stars, Ty. I need to step into the wind. Those are the things that sustain us. From the deck of my boat you were able to look up and find stars to touch."

"The Doctor has a soul of a poet. Who would have guessed?" He should have known, she was so perfect in so many ways, why not that as well. "Well Doctor-poet, I can't give you the wind and the sea that you crave, but," he pointed out the window to nothing but stars. "You've got that anytime you want it."

See beginning of chapter for disclaimer
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In-Vitro Health Facility May 2059 (3 1/2 years earlier)

McQueen had finally left his window and gone to bed, but he tossed and turned before falling into a restless sleep. He woke a few times during the night. Twice he thought Dr. Kirkwood was standing over him as he slept. If they were dreams, he was glad they were peaceful ones. She had starred in too many of the violent ones he had had when withdrawal from the Greens had his mind raging out of control.

"Major?" Dr. Kirkwood woke him early the next morning. If she had really been in his room during the night, she didn't look it. She was her usual neat self, with her hair in a fancy braid down her back. Lab coat over a soft looking blouse that was tucked into pleated wool slacks. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"You probably know the answer to that better than I do!" He growled.

"Ohh, not a morning person, are we?" Jen teased. "Okay, here's the deal, McQueen. I checked with Dr. Werner and he agrees with my assessment. You need to get out of here for a few days. Then it's back to work to get you fit."

"I get a pass?" McQueen schooled his face to hide all he was feeling. The terrors of detox were fresh in his memory, but he would do anything to get out from behind these walls for a while.

"Well, a conditional pass. It's really more of a supervised outing. And I'm the supervisor," Jen pointed to herself. "I'll pick you up around 1400 hours. Pack a bag for four days. I have to have you back by lights out on Sunday night."

"Where are we going?" McQueen asked as Jen headed for the door.

"It's a surprise, but don't worry. Your reputations is safe," she laughed as she talked. "The woman who raised me will be there." Jen made it as far as the door before turning back to the scowling man in the bed, "by the way, dress in layers. You'll need it."

Eight hours later they were maneuvering out of the harbor at Newport Beach, in Jenny's 36-foot sailboat, Windswept. She waited until they cleared the outer marker buoy. Then she cut the motor and talked McQueen through raising the sails.

"Ever been sailing before, McQueen?" Jenny tugged the bill of her scruffy old, UCLA Sailing Team hat lower on her forehead and pulled her ponytail out of the opening in the back. McQueen settled on the seat beside her in the aft section of the boat, where the helm was located.

"No," he looked over at the gleaming wood deck and polished brass fittings. "She's a beautiful craft."

"Thanks, she's an old lady of the sea. The man I bought her from told me she was built in the 1920's. Her original owner used her to run rum up from Jamaica during Prohibition."

The thunder of heavy guns could be heard to the south of their position. McQueen jumped to his feet, tense, ready to throw Jenny to the deck. His hand moved toward his right pocket, where his knife would have been if he weren't in detox.

"It's okay!" Jenny reached out a hand to him, "it's the Marines on Camp Pendleton. There're a number of islands owned by them in this area. They often use them for war games. You can hear the guns when the wind is blowing in the right direction, but only for a few more miles." She watched as he forced himself to relax. "Sorry, I should have mentioned it."

"Are we going to launch an attack on Pendleton?" McQueen grunted, his arms crossed over his chest and legs splayed. The Greens had robbed him of his iron control. It had caught him by surprise that it wasn't back yet. He had learned early, jumping at strange noises could get him killed.

"No, not today." Jenny laughed, remembering a childhood incident that had gotten her grounded for months. "We're going to Catalina for the next few days. And before you make a face like that, no we aren't going to play tourist. I grew up there. My home is above Catalina Harbor on the Pacific side of Two Harbors. At the Isthmus end of the Island."

McQueen's eyes ran over the sails and churning water. It felt good to have the wind and sun on his face. The quiet speed of the sailboat was like a different kind of flying: soothing. He felt his muscles relax. "This seems familiar and.....better."

"I had hoped it would. I can't give you your sky and stars," Jen pointed upward. "So I thought I'd share mine with you." She watched the compass and the sails as she talked. Her hands sure and steady on the small wheel, as she was careful to give McQueen time to digest her words.

The man was stunned at the gift she had given him. He stood there, his body swaying, as they moved through the water. Trying not to watch the woman whose casual words could reach in and touch a piece of his core.

"There's a thermos of coffee in the galley, if you want to get it before you sit back down." Jen motioned toward the open hatch with her chin. "I think you're ready for a bit of caffeine to be reintroduced into your diet. Though if you prefer, I'm sure there's some herbal tea down there, somewhere."

"Hump," McQueen grunted as he watched the grin spread across her face. "I'm sick and tired of that tea you've been serving me." He was glad for the excuse to go below. The artillery fire had caught him by surprise and he didn't like it that it had. Getting his control back had moved to number one on his list of priorities.

Minutes later the Major was back with two cups of coffee. "Here you go, Doctor."

"Thanks," she looked at him from under the brim of her hat as she sipped from her cup before placing it in a holder by the wheel. "We could spend the weekend stumbling over ranks and titles. Would you find it disrespectful if we were on a first name basis for the next few days?"

It was seldom that anyone worried about his feelings. "No, I guess that would be all right, Jenny....Jen?" It felt awkward to call her anything other than doctor, but after all she had done for him, he wasn't going to be surly.

"Okay," she smiled at him. "Okay....Ty? Is that all right?" She asked tentatively.

He shook his head in the affirmative, a half smile on his lips. The only other person who had ever called him that was Glen Ross. Even Amy, his ex-wife, had called him TC. It had always made him feel impersonal, distant, lacking in a name. He realized that he had begun thinking of himself in that manner, as well.

"You want to try this?" Jen indicated the wheel.

McQueen looked at the smooth wood in her hands. It was about the same size as the controls on his Hammerhead, though it was round instead of the broken oval he was used to. His fingers itched to try it.

"It's okay," Jen said softly. She saw the longing in his eyes. "Slide closer, and put your hands over mine until you get the feel of the way this moves. Keep your eyes on the bow of the boat. Line it up with the compass heading." His arm went around her as he reached for the wheel. "This will probably feel sluggish after a Hammerhead, so no sudden movement."

She felt his hands cover hers and heard him take a deep breath. Yes this is what he needed. He was like a caged panther in that room last night. Looking up she saw pure ecstasy cross his face and realized how close they were sitting. Not a good idea Jenny, this one is different.

"Let's switch places with our hands," Jen ducked down under his arm, so he no longer surrounded her. Kneeling in front of the wheel and compass box, she reached across to place her hands over his as she talked. "That's it. Can you feel the sea moving?"

"It's like I've done this before, but in a dream," McQueen felt free for the first time in weeks. Though, there was something familiar about all this.

"That may be my fault." Jen looked sheepish. "During your worst night in detox, the sound of my voice seemed to keep you calm. I recited every sea poem I know, then started on sailing in general. I wouldn't be surprised if you could sail this strip of ocean from memory."

"You were in that room with me?" Jen could feel his hands tighten on the wheel beneath hers. "That wasn't another of the nightmares?"

"Easy Ty, the Windswept likes a light touch," she could feel him force his hands to relax beneath hers as he glared into her eyes.

"Then those," McQueen looked at the bruises on her arms, peeking out from the sleeves of her t-shirt. "I did them?" He remembered what had happened that night. It hadn't been a nightmare, he had really tried to hurt her.

"Keep your eyes on the compass and the bow of the boat," Jen ordered.

"Damn it, Jen! I could have killed you," he spat. "What were you thinking being alone in that room with me?"

"I was thinking that you were going to tear yourself apart if we didn't get those restraints off of you," Jen's voice rose. "For that I owe you an apology. You didn't come out of it unmarked, either." Her left brow rose as she indicated the bruises on his wrists. "It never should have happened."

"Doctor, do you know what I could have done to you?" McQueen was horrified when he remembered slamming her against the wall. His voice getting lower and quieter as his anger grew.

"Answer me this, Ty." She looked him straight in the eyes. Her hands still gripped his on the wheel. "could you kill me right now?"

"That's differ..."

"Answer my question." She spoke each word as if it stood alone. "Do you or do you not have the ability to kill me as we sit?"

"Of course I do. But I never would..."

"I know you never would." She held up her hand as he was about to interrupt her. Her body swayed gently as the boat moved over swells. "That's just the point, Ty. You never would! Lesson number one of phyllophetamine addiction: it doesn't change the basic character of a person. It often brings out a darker side, but....."

"What basis did you use to risk your life with my 'darker side'?" McQueen was furious.

"I'd read your service record. That says a lot about a man." Jen's temper was raising right along with his. "I had been working with you for three days before that night. I knew you pretty well by then. Besides, there was a guard outside the door at all times." She didn't tell him about the ketamine hypospray, deciding it would only weaken her argument. Jenny didn't know why she had believed in him that night. All she knew was that she had. She doubted that argument would strengthen her case.

"What if you'd been wrong. You're a petite woman, Jen. You would have been dead before the guard keyed in the code, if I had wanted you dead."

"My point precisely, you didn't want me dead." Jen slipped back behind the wheel taking control of the boat. "And my size is an advantage in these situations." McQueen looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "There was a time when you had a choice to attack either my Corpsman, who is 6' 2", or me. You went for him."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" His hands low on his hips. He stood, leaning over her, using his size to press his advantage; his eyes cold and distant.

"Yes, it proves my point," she shot back, not intimidated by his stance. "You would never hurt anyone smaller or weaker than you. Besides, he deserved the scare. He was the one who strapped you down," McQueen could hear the venom in Jen's voice. "Lesson number two of phyllophetamine addiction: it slows the reflexes as it binds with oxygen receptors. You never laid a hand on him."

"No, but I did you." McQueen reached for her arm, but pulled back before he could touch her. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted, if you accept mine?" She held out her hand to him. "Pax?"

He shook her hand, "Pax. But I still don't like what happened."

"Neither do I!" Jenny and McQueen knew they were talking about different things. Both decided to ignore it. "Do you want to try sailing the old girl again?" Jen invited. "You looked like you were getting the knack."

McQueen felt his soul brushed clean as they sailed toward the hazy smug on the horizon that grew into an island. It wasn't flying a Hammerhead, but riding the back of the wind had a lot to be said for itself. With the wheel in his hands, as the sun set and stars came out he felt new again. Jen sat by his side watching and giving a hand where needed, but for the first time in a long time, McQueen felt in control of something.

Hours went by as they sailed in companionable silence, Jenny keeping them on course with a gentle word. McQueen letting the experience wash over him. He had to give her credit, Dr. Jennifer Kirkwood had him pegged. This was what he had needed. He was feeling a connection with a part of himself he hadn't felt in a long time, if ever.

Looking back he realized that during the early days of his marriage, he had lost himself along the way. His control over his personal life had slipped further and further out of his grasp, until the only time he felt in control was when he was in a cockpit. The disaster his marriage had become was a given after that. Then he had even lost the cockpit by going back to the Greens. No wonder he had thought about putting a bullet through his head.

"I'm going to radio our position, so Patsy will know when to expect us, but I'll be right here if you need me." Jenny broke the silence between them. "Come in Cliff house. This is Windswept calling."

"Windswept, this is Cliffhouse. How're you doing kiddo?"

"We're doing great. Had a following wind all the way. We rounded the Isthmus not long ago. We should be docking in about 45 minutes. I hope you have something hot for us to eat. Ever since the sun went down, it's been cold out here. Windswept, over."

McQueen heard a woman's bright laughter over the radio. "Jenny, you say that every time." The silver toned laugh came again. "Dinner's on the stove and there is a fire in the fireplace. See you two soon. I've got the lights on at the slip, but I'll be waiting at the house. Cliffhouse over."

Jenny looked at the radio transmitter in her hand, wanting to ask more questions, but decided now wasn't the time or place.

"You okay?" McQueen had caught her worried look. He hadn't missed the affection between the women as they had talked, so he couldn't understand why Jen was bothered.

"Patsy usually comes to the dock when I've been away, but even with steps, it's steep. She only stays away when her leg is giving her trouble. Her knee was crushed in an accident while helping to build The James Lovell Orbital Assembly Facility. I've told her we can completely replace the joint. The surgery would leave her pain free and give her back the mobility she lost, but she just won't do it." Jen shook her head, dismissing the accident and focusing on the cure.

"Hold it a second," McQueen frowned. "The woman who raised you helped build the Lovell?" McQueen was beginning to see the pieces of the puzzle that was Jen fall into place. "Most of the labor for that was done by in-vitros, working off their indentured servitude."

"Yes, Pats was about 1 1/2 when it happened." Jenny had taken over the wheel for the entrance to Catalina Harbor. "That's why she was in Sickbay when my mother went into early labor. My father and mother were spending time on the Lovell working on his research project."

"You're telling me that a natural-born was raised by an in-vitro? What about your father?" McQueen didn't know if he was more startled by the casually affectionate way Jen talked about Patsy, or the apparent lack of a father in her upbringing.

"I've heard it said dad had two loves, his work and his wife." Jen was concentrating on her sailing, and spoke more freely than she normally would have. "When mother died giving birth to me, he bought out Patsy's contract from Aerotech and moved the two of us to Catalina Island."

"Where was he?" McQueen had always wanted to be a father. The idea of a parent not raising his own child was unbelievable to him.

"He moved back and forth between the Lovell Facility and Berkeley where he taught courses on the impact of space phenomenon on particle physics." Jen used the gears at the helm to lower the sails, then started the motor for the last few miles to the dock. She had forgotten about McQueen, as she sailed her boat as she usually did: all by herself. "He would make a flying trip to the Island to check up on us about twice a year."

"Your father was Harrison Kirkwood? The man who won the Nobel Prize for the discovery of the Black Hole Inversion Phenomenon?" McQueen watched her work, independent, capable, and alone. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"One and the same," Jen shook her head as she squinted into the distance. "See that light to the left beyond that point? That's where the Windswept lives. The house on the bluff above is where we're headed.
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Catalina Island Spring 2059

That night McQueen met Patsy Howard. An in-vitro, like none he had experienced before. She was tall with chestnut hair streaked with gray. The lines around her dark brown eyes and mouth were laugh lines, instead of the usual worry lines present in most in-vitro faces. If he had to guess, he would bet that she had been produced to be a soldier. She had the tall long bones and finely chiseled features that spoke of warriors. Her neck-navel peeking out from her fashionably cut short hair and stiff right leg were the only clues that she was one of his kind.

They had eaten dinner in a many-windowed kitchen that was Patsy's obvious domain. It was warm and cheery and the two women chatted away, including him in the conversation. A small black cat, named Cinders was curled-up, asleep, under Jenny's chair.

"So Major, does Jenny still drive that blue bomb of hers as if she owned the L.A. freeways?" Patsy grinned at Jenny, whose eyebrows had risen.

"I kept checking the dashboard for a LIDAR display to warn for in- comings," McQueen picked up the teasing tone of Patsy's voice and joined in. "It was definitely 'fangs-out' all the way from L.A. to Newport Beach."

"I know when I've been insulted." Jen stood, fists on her hips. "I think I'll take the last two slices of this pie, across the lawn, to Lars and Magda. And I'll have you know, there is nothing wrong with my driving!" Jen left in mock insult.

"Lars and Magda were the housekeeper and groundskeeper when we were growing up," Patsy explained. "They live in the gatehouse at the foot of the lot. Lars keeps that boat of Jenny's ship shape." Patsy grinned at her pun. "And Magda is my bridge partner."

"You grew-up here?" McQueen was struck by the incongruity of the statement. In-vitros didn't grow up, they were born as adults.

"When I was born, my body may have looked like an adult's, but my mind and emotions weren't. You remember what it's like when they take you out of the tank?"

"That's not something I'm likely to forget," McQueen repressed a shudder. Being born at 18 years old was a disadvantage. You remember every sensation and they were all unpleasant. You're wet, cold and confused. Strong feelings that no one had taught you to control, surged through your body. Then you were taught that your only purpose in life is to obey and then to die. Why bother to live, at all?

"I can see from your eyes that you remember it, vividly," Patsy looked guilty. "Sorry about that, Jenny would have my hide if she knew. This is supposed to be a pleasant few days for you."

Schooling his face, McQueen turned to Patsy. "You're secret is safe with me."

"This place, that woman, a bit overwhelming, aren't they?" Patsy smiled at McQueen as she sipped her tea. "Though Jenny and I have been together since she was born. Believe me, for an 18 month old in-vitro, that was the definition of overwhelming," Patsy laughed.

"Overwhelming?" McQueen wasn't used to being talked to as Patsy was doing. He wondered if it was the effect of the Greens, or if there was kinship between Jenny and Patsy that gave them the ability to blind-side him. Always know who wants what from you, he thought, still working the problem in his mind.

"Remember I've been there too, Ty. Is it all right if I call you that, like Jenny does? Or would you prefer Major?" Patsy got up and refilled his coffee cup. "It was a long time ago, but I still remember."

"Ty is fine, and thanks for the coffee." He watched the stiff movement of her right leg and it sunk in that she really did understand. "That's why you won't let Jen fix your knee, isn't it?"

"Yes," Patsy turned around in surprise. It was obvious Jenny had told this man about the accident on the Lovell, and he understood how Patsy felt about it. "But can we keep it between ourselves? Jenny understands on an intellectual level, but her emotions, well..." Patsy shrugged her shoulders. "Let's hope she never has to find out for herself."

For a moment Patsy's eyes darkened and McQueen knew she was seeing into the distant past. The two in-vitros exchanged a knowing look that spoke of badges of courage and a tribute to those who hadn't been as lucky as they had.

"Have you and Jen always lived on Catalina?" McQueen wondered what it was that made Patsy so different from the other in-vitros he had met.

"Jenny was born on The Lovell. The Professor was doing a research project there. I've never understood why he had his wife, Emma, with him. But because of that, my life was changed," Patsy shrugged. "Jenny told you about this didn't she?"

"A little bit, but what I'd really like to know is what it was like for you." McQueen's eyes met Patsy's in a look of complete understanding, one in-vitro to another. Each seeing, in the other, what their life could have been.

"I had been on the Lovell for five months, when I was in an accident on one of the construction sites. My knee was crushed. The doctor did what he could for me, but I'm an in-vitro, and our Sickbay was rather primitive." Patsy could see that McQueen understood. "Afterward, I was petrified that they would send me to one of the pleasure palaces," Patsy confided, ignoring the ghosts that haunted McQueen's face. "It was a given that I wouldn't be doing heavy labor again," she pointed to her damaged knee.

"I was working in Sickbay while they were trying to figure out what to do with me, when Emma Kirkwood was brought in. She was in an advanced stage of labor and bleeding badly. The Professor refused to leave her side, even when the doctor ordered him out.

"They handed the baby to me as soon as she was born. The doctor was too busy trying to save Emma's life, to deal with the living. But it wasn't to be. Emma died an hour later. Jenny was left in my care for the next three days. I didn't have a clue what to do, but I figured it out fast enough." Patsy could only shake her head as she remembered fumbling with the tiny girl-child that would change her life.

"The next thing I knew I had agreed to help the Professor with the child, if he bought out my indentured servitude. I found myself on a shuttle to Earth before the ink could dry on the papers." Patsy gave McQueen a knowing smile. "My plans at the time, had been to get back to Earth then run off somewhere, that all changed the night before we landed. It was late, I had just fed Jenny and was rocking her to sleep. She felt warm and good against me. I looked down and that tiny baby opened her eyes and smiled at me. It was as if she looked deep into me and tugged at my heart. I've been with her ever since.

"I get the feeling you didn't think much of Professor Kirkwood?" McQueen had been listening to what Patsy hadn't said, as much as to what she had.

Patsy stood to get herself another cup of tea, using the time to think. "Exactly how much has Jenny told you?"

"Not much really. She mentioned growing up here, and you of course. She did say that her father had provided a home for the two of you. I think she was too busy keeping an eye on me, making sure I didn't capsize her boat, to do much talking." That wasn't quite the truth, but it would do.

"Jenny let you sail her boat?" Patsy was caught off guard. Not only had Jenny talked to this stranger about her childhood, but she had let him sail her beloved Windswept. No one but Jen ever sailed that boat. This man's presence in her kitchen took on a new meaning. Patsy wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"Most in-vitros think we have it pretty rough, because we don't have parents; no one to love us and guide us as we mature. But having a parent isn't all it's cracked up to be, if it's the wrong kind of parent." Patsy looked McQueen straight in the eyes. Jenny seemed to trust him. The older woman was going to see if he was worth that trust.

"There are parents that don't love their natural born child. They don't care about her as a person. They may blame the child for the death of someone they loved deeply. Blame her to the point of blocking out any feelings or paternal caring." Patsy's anger was boiling over. "Yes, you could say I didn't think much of Harrison Kirkwood. May his soul never find peace in hell!"

"He felt that way about Jen?"

The anger that was present on McQueen's face was gratifying to Patsy. Maybe this man wasn't so bad after all?

"He provided for her material needs. She had a home, a very good education, and he made sure I was here." Patsy laughter bitterly, "but even that, was for his own convenience. He knew nothing about me, except I was an injured in-vitro. I needed a place to go when he happened to need someone to care for his child. For all he knew I could have been an ax murderer. The Professor planted his daughter here with strangers and took off. He visited about twice a year, to make sure she was progressing as the daughter of Harrison Kirkwood should, but that was it.

"I'm only 18 months older than Jenny in real years," Patsy smiled as she remembered the good times. "I was savvy enough to keep us from dying young, but just barely. We terrorized this end of the island for a while. Thank goodness for understanding neighbors, and Magda and Lars!" She shook her head as she thought of the foolishness of Jenny's father.

The kitchen door rattled and Jenny came in with a gust of wind and rain at her heels. "I thought I was gone long enough for the dishes to get done?"

"No such luck, my girl. I cooked. You clean up. House rules still stand." Patsy grinned as she picked up the small black cat that had begun complaining because Jenny's noisy entrance had disturbed its nap.

After Jenny and McQueen had headed to their respective rooms for the night, Patsy sat in the living room, watching the dying coals in the fireplace. Her tea left to grow cold on the table beside her. "What's going on in that head of yours, Jenny?" Something wasn't right here, McQueen sailing the Windswept, Jenny bringing him here, and telling him about her childhood.

Patsy remembered the summer when Jenny was 11 and the two of them had decided to check out San Clemente Island. They had known that the Marines used it for war games, but had decided it would be fun to play Marine for the day. They had ended up as 'guests' of the Marines for a number of hours. Harrison Kirkwood had been summoned from Berkeley. When he had finally secured their release, they had each received a severe dressing-down and were grounded for the rest of the summer. It had broken Jenny's heart to spend three months on dry land. That was when Jenny swore, that one day, she would have a boat that no one could take away from her. The Windswept was that boat.

Patsy didn't know what threats Harrison had used to keep Jenny in line, but they must have been something drastic, because she finally gave up trying to gain her father's approval. Though the habits she'd formed over the years were so ingrained, that Jen was still the classic overachiever. Graduating from high school at 15, UCLA at 17 1/2, and UCLA Medical School at 21. It had been a relief to Patsy when Harrison had died in Jenny's last year in medical school. It was one less graduation the Professor didn't attend because he was 'too busy.'

Patsy had watched Jenny carefully construct a wall to keep the small hurts the Professor aimed at his daughter from hitting their mark. Over the years that wall had extended to include men in general. Now suddenly, Jenny shows up with a man in tow. Why this man? Why out of all the men in the world, did Jenny choose him to open-up to? She had plenty of men friends, but she kept them at arms length. Anytime a man tried to get too close, Jenny would jump back behind her wall.

Patsy was sure, that Jenny was blind to the significance of McQueen's presence in their home. He was Jenny's patient and that was all there was to it. The doctor in Jenny would stay in command of the woman. Unfortunately, the woman behind the doctor was peeking out. And she was a woman who didn't trust men easily. Why him, an in-vitro who looks to have had a rough time of it?

The next morning, McQueen came down to find Jenny working in a study off the living room. She was seated at a large desk, her back to one of the many bookshelves that lined the walls of the room. There was a stack of wood, in the fireplace opposite the desk, waiting to be lit. The small cat that followed Jenny around was daintily licking her paws in the sun that beamed through one of the floor to ceiling windows at either end of the room. Like all the rooms McQueen had seen so far, this one, had a comfortable lived-in look. The chairs and small couch were placed in a way that invited people to sit and read.

"Good-morning," McQueen called out. Jenny had been lost in whatever she had been writing and didn't hear him enter the room.

"Hi there, how did you sleep?" She looked up, her mind making the transition from her writing to her patient.

"Fine, great," he looked a bit sheepish. "I haven't slept like that in a long time."

"Good, I like to hear things like that," Jenny stretched in her chair.

"What are you working on?" McQueen wondered what could have Jen so absorbed. "Is it a Navy secret and if you tell me, you would have to shoot me?"

"Pleeaassee!" Jen rolled her eyes. "That's a Marine thing. The Navy is too honorable to shoot you. We would send you swimming with hungry sharks." She kidded as she decided if she would show him what she was writing. No one but Patsy and the agent from the publisher knew about the book. "Have a seat," Jenny indicated the chair on the other side of the desk, as she handed over a stack of paper, her decision made. "This is only the first two chapters. Let me know what you think."

McQueen's eyes began scanning the first page: 'In 1978, in England, Dr. Edwards, an embryologist, and his research partner Dr. Steptue, a gynecologist, succeeded in the first In-Vitro Fertilization. This break-through allowed thousands of couples that had been considered, until that time, infertile to conceive a child. By the year 1999, more than 20,000 IVF babies were born worldwide.

This step in the fight over infertility was looked upon as a gift, greeted with great joy by thousands of couples that couldn't conceive through 'natural' means.

After the first few babies were born via IVF, as it was called then, no one looked askew at the practice. How a child was conceived, wasn't important. There was no prejudice or glory. There was just a child.'

McQueen looked up, his eyes blue ice, "are you writing what I think you're writing?"

"I have no idea. What is it you think I'm writing?" Jenny stood, leaning across her desk at the angry man.

"It's a history of in-vitros!" He stood and moved around the desk, as he tossed the pages on the chair he had been sitting in.

"You've got it in one, Major," Jen met his anger with her own. "It's about time people learned the truth."

"And what truth is that?" McQueen stood nose to nose with the woman who had made his insides jump with fear. If the book ever saw the light of day, it would bring a firestorm of hate down on her head.

"The truth that a precious gift was bastardized along the way for in-utero born's convenience." She was hurt that McQueen didn't understand. Way to go, Jenny. And Patsy wonders why I have trouble trusting men, when they all let me down.

"What are you trying to do?" McQueen ground out, "paint a big red bull's-eye on your back for every bigoted son-of-a-bitch to take aim at, Lieutenant?"

"Don't be ridiculous, and don't try to pull rank on me, Major. You're still my patient!" Jenny was flushed with anger. "Did you know that the first in-vitro gestation, in 2025, was only nine months long? There is no need to extent it to..."

"That's not the point..."

"Yes it is...."

"Jennifer! I can hear the shouting from the garden," Patsy walked in to the study. Jenny and McQueen were nose to nose. He was leaning over the smaller woman in an attempt to intimidate her, but it didn't seem to be working. "I can see that she's decided to show you her book?"

"Patsy, please I already know your opinion." Jenny didn't shout, but her voice was strained.

"You're letting her write this?" McQueen was shocked that the in-vitro woman didn't understand the trouble Jen could be in if this book was ever published.

"In the kitchen, both of you. Now! And no more fighting or I'll send you to your rooms." Patsy turned and headed to the back of the house. McQueen and Jenny followed.

It had been useless. McQueen couldn't talk Jenny out of writing the book. He was relieved to find out that Patsy agreed with him, but there was nothing that either in-vitro could do to stop the stubborn natural-born woman. It was a point that they had to agree to disagree on and let it drop.

"I'm going for a walk. I'll be back in about an hour." Jenny grabbed a mug filled with espresso, as she headed out. Patsy and Ty were left with the echo of the kitchen door as the angry woman banged out of the house, heading toward the cliff and the path to the beach.

"I'm afraid we disappointed her badly." Patsy met McQueen's eyes, still stormy from the recent argument. "You don't usually come out on the losing end, do you, Ty?"

"No, I don't," he sighed. "I worry for her safety. She doesn't realize the trouble that book will cause her, if it ever gets published."

"No, she doesn't," Patsy touched his arm to get his attention. "You see McQueen, she really doesn't see the difference between in-vitro and in-utero born. To her it's just a form of child neglect that in-vitros are born at eighteen. And she considers the in-vitro training schools to be nothing short of child abuse."
................................

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

The Saratoga October 2063

McQueen shook himself. He had let his mind wander back over the 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 careful to respect his personal space, except when she was coming at him in 'doctor mode.' When that happened, all hell broke lose and short of physical violence, he was never able to keep her at bay.

"Jen, you need to wake-up." He 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, he needed 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 okay," 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. Then turned 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!
....................................

The Saratoga October 2063
He heard Jenny's footsteps as she pounded down another flight of steps. She was angry. He had chosen his words carefully. Knowing it was easier for him to deal with an angry Jen, than 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 gunmetal 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 Jen Kirkwood. He wondered if the casual observer would see the intimacy he saw in the picture.

It was one of the few times Major 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 Mexican place for tapas and sangria. The picture had been taken after too many pitchers of the red-fruity 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.

"Angel-Doc, 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?" She 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.

Dr. Kirkwood 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 them had tried to freeze her out when she was first assigned to them, but she had worn them down. McQueen 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 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 more than fists. But tonight his help was needed, so he waded into the foray.

When they staggered out of the Asteroid, they were bruised and bleeding, but victorious. 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 six 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 his 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 okay, 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," she sighed. "It's going to take at least five stitches to close that wound." The Doctor 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 removed them from his sides. He pulled her to her feet, as he stood. He didn't think she realized he was still holding on to her, or that his thumbs were making gentle circles on the soft inner skin of 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....." Jenny's 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," the Major whispered. He could feel her breath on his face and smell the soft rose fragrance that always said 'Jen' to him. McQueen saw realization hit her as she turned stark white then 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!  The words tumbled in her mind as she grabbed her things, afraid to look him in the eyes again.

She 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 his 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 muttered through gritted teeth.

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, and 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 white and yellow gold.

The next day, Jenny went into town to shop. Christmas was just around the corner and she decided shop-therapy 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 stylish black sling-back evening shoes, from the sale rack. Jenny jumped in and distracted the other woman with a pair of green pumps, 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.

A few nights later, as the Angels were sitting in the Bar tossing around ideas about 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.

"Major?" 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'd like you to come along. Patsy and I would 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 along 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." Her chin shot up and her eyes darkened.

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll consider myself warned. Pax?" She held out her hand to him as she had done once before.

"Pax." He shook her hand. Not sure if either of them were aware of what they had just agreed to. "I'd like to spend the time with you and Patsy."

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

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

The Saratoga, McQueen's quarters 2063

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

"Sea-Fever" by John Masefield

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

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

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

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

In the back of the book of poetry, he found another picture. One he thought he had lost. Patsy had taken it of McQueen and Jen sitting on the Windswept, with his arms lightly around her, as her hands covering his 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 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, when she was awake. But in the early hours of the morning, Jen would talk in her sleep. That was when her new squad learned just how worried she really was.

While they were gone, the Doctor 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, if we were just going to exchange them in the middle of the night?" The smaller woman 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. "I'll be back before reveille."

"He had better be worth it." She 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, and 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 personnel going 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 in Gloria Collins' bunk. Since Gloria always went to bed in that bunk and appeared to wake up in it, Jenny couldn't tactfully make up the bed with her head 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.
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Jen and McQueen left Newport Beach early on a Tuesday morning, as the sun was beginning to silhouette the city behind them. They hadn't been underway 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 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, she 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."

"Okay, thanks," Jen smiled. She did trust him with her boat, she realized, and that thought scared her. She grabbed her duffle bag 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. Patsy was digging the story of the last few weeks out of a reticent McQueen. 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 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 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's 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, then 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 okay. 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. When they had leave they would head for Catalina. As the months past, he became as proficient at handling the Windswept as Jenny. Lars, the shipwright who worked for Jen, interested McQueen in a set of blueprints for a racing sloop the older man had tucked away years ago. By the end of April, the two men had begun bringing their design to life with wood and fiberglass.

The two officers kept a strange balance in their relationship. When they were in Loxley, they treated each other with professional courtesy due their rank and positions. The man and woman were always careful to be the Major and the Doctor. When they were sailing, they became friends, and were Jen and Ty

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 had 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. 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. The desire he had felt for her at Christmas was building, but always under the surface. He didn't understand it and refused to acknowledge it most of the time.

In late May, 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. He was worried about her safety, but couldn't get away that weekend, so Jen went alone.
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"McQ!" 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 McQ!"

"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 came into Lt. Col. Smyth's quarters about the mugging, Collins was 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 them. 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 okay, 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 than he had before. His eyes turned cold, as he fought the urge to hit something.

"It's okay. 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. You're living in the real world now, not that safe little Island of yours!"

"It's something I had to do!" Her breath caught as a sharp pain from her broken rib 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 watched his fury grow. "I didn't mean to, well to cause...you...."

"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 was 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 snuggled 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 watched him. When he had pulled back from her, it left an empty ache deep inside, she didn't understand.

"It's okay, Ty." Jen shook her head as his anger grew.

"It's okay?" McQueen turned to her. His face a frozen mask. Not only was his anger worse because of the burn, but also 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 okay?" 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 Angels were aware of something between them. They were gone at the same times to 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 Angel-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, Captain." McQueen's eyes were deadly.

"She's being released in a few hours. Then will be on medical leave for the next month. 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?" He 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.
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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, then 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 would have acted on it. He couldn't say he loved her. He wished it were that easy. Love was an emotion he couldn't identify. He 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 different than anything he had ever felt and it didn't make any sense. 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.