~*~
Breakfast the next morning consisted of survival rations. Donovan grimaced as he swallowed the remainder of his water. His gaze swept over each member of his party. He would not consider any one of them an outdoorsy type and it was beginning to show. They were holding it together well, but it was more than obvious they were missing the comforts of civilization.
"I don't think my back will ever be the same," Alex lamented as she stood and stretched. "Gawd," she cried as her spine cracked and popped.
Quinn returned to camp with Monica after making a short trek into the woods for a little privacy. Her eyes immediately sought out Donovan and noticed as he shook his two canteens. It was obvious to Quinn they were empty. She had no idea how much farther they needed to travel before they reached Sanctuary, but she knew he could not make it without water. None of them could. Reaching down, she hefted her backpack onto her shoulders and snapped its belt's catches into place. As she made her way over to Donovan, she removed one of her canteens and held it out to him.
Donovan lifted his head when she approached. "What's this about?" he asked, taking the canteen from her.
"My other canteen is nearly half full…you'll need that," she insisted.
He stood and fixed the canteen to his backpack. "Thank you." He was not about to protest because he knew she spoke the truth. They still had miles to travel and although the sun was just beginning to brighten the dawn sky, he could tell it was going to be a scorcher. "You let me know if you run out of water."
Quinn nodded and moved off to join Sam. She glanced back at Donovan for a moment and then turned quickly away. Although his people had gone out of their way to act as though the previous night had not happened, she still felt uncomfortable and ill at ease. At least with Sam she did not feel as though she was being judged. It wasn't that she felt she was above reproach; on the contrary, she felt as though she should be drawn and quartered. Although she was sure Sam did not condone her actions, she was just as sure he completely understood them. He would never judge her.
Donovan gave the order to move out after the camp had been policed and evidence of their stay had been removed or buried. Glancing behind him, he noticed the group had broken up into pairs again. Alex was doing her best to soothe a still pride-injured Jake, Cody was chattering away at Monica who only pretended to listen, and Sam and Quinn brought up the rear. He sighed a little, noting that both had fallen quiet and sullen. He didn't mind the silence, but he didn't want them brooding, either. If nothing else came of this weekend, he wished for them to break from the past and embrace life again.
He slowed his pace and allowed Jake, Alex, Monica, and Cody to move past him. As he fell back, he handed the map off to Jake, giving him lead. It not only gave him a chance to gauge Jake's ability to handle unfamiliar situations, but also attempt to drag Quinn and Sam out of the moods they had fallen into.
"Do you think it's wise to let Shaw lead the group?" Sam asked when he drew alongside Donovan.
"Why do you ask?"
"He's a street kid," Sam responded coldly. "He'll wind up getting us lost in this muck and heavens knows when we'll reach Sanctuary."
Donovan arched a brow. "You think? I don't know…Jake's got a good head on his shoulders." He paused long enough to give the impression that he was mulling over Sam's words. "Why don't you catch up to him and make sure he keeps us on solid ground."
Sam gave a brief nod and took off at a slow jog to catch up to Jake.
"What was that all about?" Quinn asked, not a bit fooled by Donovan's ruse.
"I think he needs to stay occupied," Donovan answered shortly. "And I think you need someone to talk to."
Quinn balked at his suggestion. "I'm fine and I don't feel like talking."
"I'm sure you don't," he replied, taking her elbow and urging her forward. "But isn't that the sort of attitude that got you where you are now?"
Quinn rolled her eyes as they ducked around a protruding tree limb. "What don't you know about my situation, Frank?"
He caught the sarcastic tone of her voice but let it slide off him. "I know you BS'd your way through your evaluations after that mission. I know you've fooled one therapist after another," he accused softly.
Quinn stopped suddenly and glared at his back as he walked by. He was right and she hated the fact that he was. "What's your point to this discussion, Donovan?"
He stopped and turned to face her. "Back to Donovan, are we?" He chuckled disappointedly. "My point is that I know you have issues to work through and I hope that you're ready to face them."
She sighed and crossed the distance between them quickly. "I'm sorry, Frank. Old habits die hard," she explained
lamely. Standing near him, her thoughts
drifted to the previous night and the comfort of his arms as he held her. She reached out and tentatively touched his
hand with her fingertips.
Her touch was so light that if he had not been watching her movements, he might not have known she touched him at all. He moved his hand slowly from hers to travel up the length of her arm, her shoulder, to gently cup the side of her neck and stroke her cheek with his thumb. "Let them go, Quinn," he whispered as he slowly pressed closer to her. "There is so much more that I need from you than your anger and sarcasm," he assured her, his lips just a breath away from hers.
Quinn's eyes closed in reflex to the sound of his soft, honey-coated voice as it floated into her ears and his warm breath caressed her face. "Please…don't," she pleaded softly, straining against the hand at her neck that held her in place. She opened her eyes slowly and immediately was lost within the dark depth of his.
"You've haunted my dreams for years," he explained softly without moving away from her. His lips grazed hers as he spoke, only feeding his need to taste the sweetness of her lips that had been denied him for so long.
Quinn's hands came up to rest against his chest. She could feel his heart beating rapidly against her palms. Its tempo matched her own. "I'm afraid, Frank…"
He groaned softly as he fought back the desire to just press forward and capture her lips in a fevered kiss. Her soft plea, her fear, held him back, but still he did not move. He was rooted firmly in one spot with barely enough room between their bodies for air to get through. His eyes searched hers for an undetermined amount of time and he wished with all that he was that he could erase all her troubled thoughts. "You don't have to be afraid, Quinn…please, believe me when I tell you the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you."
Quinn closed her eyes again. Mentally she reached out and clung to the genuine honesty she heard in his voice. Was she fooling herself? Was she just looking for something that wasn't there? If he didn't care, why was he doing this? It wasn't just to get into her panties, that much she was sure. During the time she worked with him, she came to respect him as a person and didn't believe he was capable of such deceit. And yet you believed he had willingly led Troy to his death? You're such a hypocrite, Quinn.
He sensed that she was struggling with her emotions. He was a bastard to be pushing her at this stage and he mentally kicked himself. It was time to pull away and give her the space she asked for.
She whimpered slightly when he moved just the tiniest bit away from her. Instinctively her fingers curled around the material of his shirt, stopping him from pulling away. Hesitantly she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips firmly against his. A muffled cry escaped from deep within her throat when she finally gave into years of denial. Releasing her fingers from his shirt, her hands traveled the short distance over his shoulders to wind her arms about his neck.
Donovan was torn between the urge to release a triumphant whoop and the need to hold onto the moment for as long as possible. Instead, he pressed the entire length of his body against hers; his hands moved slowly down her back, molding her to him perfectly. Slowly, deliberately, his tongue slipped through his parted lips to trail unhurriedly over first her lower and then upper lip before probing the slight opening of her mouth.
A hungry moan escaped him as he plunged forward, his tongue touching hers cautiously at first, until her eager response urged him onward. Five years worth of need was poured into the kiss. Demand and passion rolled into one blissful moment as their lips slid seductively over each other's. He had dreamed of Quinn's kiss, the sweet salty taste of her, but his imagination had fallen far short of the real thing. Never had he felt such intense pleasure and painful need wrapped together at one time. He needed so much more than this.
His kiss was bruising, but that barely registered with Quinn. The only thing that mattered was the liquid fire that developed from deep within her core and radiated outward. Oh gawd, his lips…his delicious lips, she moaned inwardly as she gently pulled his lower lip into her mouth and teased the sensitive flesh with her tongue. At the same time that she felt his hand at the back of her head, grasping her braid determinedly, her fingers slid into his silky locks. Let me stay here forever, her mind demanded. This could be heaven on earth.
~*~
"I think we should continue heading in this direction," Jake stated firmly as he pointed straight ahead.
Sam glanced at the map and then at the surrounding area. "Yes, I agree."
"Um…has anyone seen our illustrious leader and his manic sidekick?" Cody asked jokingly.
Everyone in the group shook their heads. No one had seen them in quite some time.
"Sam," Jake said, handing him the map. "You continue on and I'll double back and look for them."
Sam nodded as he accepted the map. His eyes fell upon Jake's Bowie knife as he fingered the hilt. "Don't worry, Quinn didn't pull anything," he assured him, knowing Jake was thinking that Quinn had attacked Donovan again and possibly succeeded.
"Didn't say she did," Jake replied, dropping his hand to his side. "I'll catch up to you as quickly as I can."
Jake left the group and headed off at a brisk walk. It was hot, damned hot, and anything above a walking pace was difficult and only done if necessary. He honestly did not think anything had happened to Donovan. It was more likely that he and Quinn had been distracted in some manner or another. He shook his head, silently questioning Donovan's apparent lapse in judgment in regards to Quinn's behavior the previous night.
He groaned and wiped the sweat from his brow, scanning the area as he moved along as quickly as possible. His thoughts were busy processing the events that occurred between his boss and the lady CIA agent causing his attention to the landscape to wane. He never noticed the slight change in the ground's color as he stepped forward.
~*~
To be continued…