~*~
Donovan reluctantly broke the kiss and pulled away, breathless. He gazed down into Quinn's green eyes; never had he seen them so dark, almost the color of moss. Passion and desire made them appear deep and fathomless. When she moved her hand from his hair to press her palm against his cheek, he leaned into her touch, but could not bear to tear his eyes from hers. The moment felt magical and, although he knew it would have to, he never wanted it to end.
The absence of his lips on hers left her cold and empty. The feeling frightened her almost as much as he had back in that dark jungle all those years ago. How someone could possess such power over her, astounded her. He had entered her life quite innocently enough, but somehow, when she wasn't looking, he captured her soul for his very own. Her brain screamed for her to fight her feelings and run away, far away, as fast as she could. Her heart, however, calmed those urges. It was tired of fighting; it was ready to surrender. Only time would tell if she was making the right decision.
"Donovan! Alex!"
The frantic shout caused both Donovan and Quinn to jump apart and turn toward the voice.
"That's Jake," Donovan stated worriedly. "Let's go," he ordered, taking Quinn by the elbow and heading off in the direction the voice came from.
"Anyone! Help!"
Donovan and Quinn ran to Jake's position at the same time Alex, Monica, Sam, and Cody arrived from the opposite direction.
"Jake!" Alex yelled, shocked.
"Stay back!" Donovan barked loudly. "Quicksand! It's quicksand," he explained as he inched forward slowly. "Jake, don't struggle, stay still," he urged as he attempted to determine the exact circumference of the pit. Somehow Jake had managed to embed himself in the center of the pit, most likely from trying to work his way free of the muck that was slowly pulling him downward.
"What do you think?" Sam asked as he took a wide path around the quicksand.
"I think you should hurry up and get my ass out of here!" Jake yelled. He was up to his chest in the messy sand and sinking slowly. He was doing his best to keep his arms and hands above the surface.
"We are, Jake. Stay calm," Donovan insisted. Removing his belt, he made a loop with one end and gripped the other end firmly in his hand. "Sam, Cody…hold on to my legs."
Donovan lowered himself to the ground near the edge of the quicksand. Lying flat, he propped himself up onto one elbow and tossed the looped end of the belt toward Jake. It fell approximately a foot short of its mark.
"Hang on to me," he ordered firmly. The only way to reach Jake was to stretch the upper part of his body over the quicksand. He pushed himself forward and pitched the belt toward Jake again.
With one hand anchored firmly on solid ground, he did his best to keep his upper body out of the thick liquid. When Jake grabbed a hold of the belt, shouting a firm "Got it!", the force pulled Donovan in farther, causing him to lose his grip and land face first in the muck.
Donovan held his breath while his head was submerged. Telling himself to stay calm, he hoped it would not take his team long to react. He wasn't looking forward to choking to death on quicksand.
"Hold him!" Alex shouted as she and the others joined Cody and Sam. Both she and Quinn reached for and grabbed hold of Donovan's backpack, while Monica held on to Alex and Sam reached out with one hand to hold Quinn firmly in place.
"Come on, Shaw!" Quinn shouted. "Pull yourself out…" She nodded to Alex and, with a firm tug, they lifted Donovan far enough out of the mire that he could once again breathe. "You okay, Donovan?"
"Yeah," he shouted, sputtering. With his body firmly anchored by the others, he began the tiring task of pulling Jake from the quicksand. "Damn it, Jake. See if you can release the catch on your backpack. Without it weighing you down, we might have a better chance!"
Jake nodded and plunged his hand into the thick muck. He fumbled with the catch for a moment before it finally let loose.
After shedding the backpack, Donovan was able to pull Jake bit by bit toward him. After several exhausting minutes, Jake was near enough to Donovan that they were able to link wrists. With intense effort, the gang on shore dragged Donovan and Jake back onto solid ground.
"Thanks," Jake panted, slapping Donovan on the shoulder.
"You bet," he returned, panting heavily himself.
"I'm really starting to hate this place," Jake commented, wiping at the quicksand that clung to his body. "Damn, I need a shower."
"You sure do," Alex commented, wrinkling her nose as she crawled over to him. "But thank God you're okay."
Jake nodded. "What the hell, Donovan? I come back to find you two because you'd been missing for a while…and look what happens!"
Donovan shrugged. "I don't recall telling you to keep an eye on me. Next time, follow orders."
Jake rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to cleaning the mess from his body and clothing.
Quinn knelt next to Donovan and removed her backpack. Taking out a towel, she fumbled with her canteen.
"No," he insisted, putting a hand out, stopping her.
"Forget that, Donovan. You don't want that stuff getting into your eyes," she argued, wetting the towel with the remaining water in her canteen.
Donovan shook his head as he accepted the towel and cleaned the quicksand from his face and neck. He glanced around the group and found them watching him intently. He could see they were all perplexed by Quinn's actions, but he was not about to offer any explanations. What was between him and Quinn would stay that way. It was no one's business but theirs.
"Okay…good job working together to help Jake out." He scrambled to his feet and held a hand out to help Quinn to hers. "Now, let's get moving…"
"Yeah," Cody agreed. "I sure as hell don't want to spend another night sleeping with the bugs and snakes."
Monica rolled her eyes at him. "Who says we won't find worse conditions when we reach our destination?"
"Gee, thanks, Monica. Way to keep up morale," Cody responded dejectedly.
Donovan held back a smirk. They were in for quite a surprise once they reached Sanctuary.
~*~
Monica listened in amusement as Alex tried to talk Jake out of his miserable mood. He insisted this weekend was stacking up to be a 'torment Jake' weekend. Of course, that was just ridiculous, but Monica had to admit it was an odd coincidence that bad things keep happening to Jake.
She slowed her pace a bit, allowing Quinn to move alongside her. "Thirsty?" she asked, offering her a canteen.
Quinn nodded. "A little," she replied, accepting the offer. She took a swallow and handed it back. "Thanks."
"No problem," Monica said sincerely. Since they left the pit of quicksand some twenty odd minutes before, Monica had been rolling the events of the weekend around in her mind. The dynamics of Donovan's relationship with Quinn, and Sam for that matter, were complicated. Ever since Quinn had attacked Donovan, her whole demeanor had changed. She had literally given up her entire water supply to or for Donovan. That alone told Monica Quinn's feelings ran deeply for him. No one would risk dehydration or worse for just anyone. "Are you okay?"
A wry smile touched Quinn's lips before disappearing altogether. "I don't know," she admitted, making eye contact with the profiler.
"I'm not trying to be nosey," Monica assured her.
"I know," she said, jerking her head in Donovan's direction. "He's important in your lives and I…" She was so torn up by her actions she couldn't form the words.
"Don't try to explain, you don't have to," she said, placing a gentle hand on Quinn's shoulder. "And he doesn't want you to…you owe us nothing."
Quinn nodded. "I do want you to know that I'm sorry…I…"
Donovan could hear their conversation, although their voices were mere whispers. The regret could be plainly heard in Quinn's tone and although he knew Monica meant well, he did not want anything to cause Quinn to revert back into her shell. "We should be there soon," he commented stepping between them. "Another two miles or so…we should make it there by noon."
Monica shot him a look of understanding. "Good, I'll go tell the others," she replied, moving ahead to join the larger group.
"You didn't have to send her away," Quinn protested softly as she walked slowly beside him.
"You've been through enough, Quinn," he insisted. He placed his hand to the small of her back as they hiked along the path.
She huffed softly but silently enjoyed the feel of his hand resting on her back. "Please don't be so nice to me…I'm not ready for that yet."
"I swear, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met," he said, not unkindly. His hand moved from her back to close around her upper arm. "We still have a lot to talk about, Quinn…"
She nodded. "I know, Frank. But…not around the others."
"Of course not," he agreed. "Once we get settled in, there will be plenty of time. I can promise you privacy."
"I don't know how, with this mob," she commented, eying the group up ahead.
"Trust me," he whispered, squeezing her arm lightly.
Quinn's gaze met his momentarily before she looked away. Trust was a four-letter word to her, the ultimate four-letter word. He had some questions to answer before she would even consider that word in regards to him. "We'll see," she whispered cryptically.
~*~
"Oh, holy shit!" Alex exclaimed as they ventured into a clearing.
Donovan laughed as he took in the sight of the surprised looks on each of their faces. "Sanctuary" was a summer home that belonged to the Deputy Director of the CIA, Carl DeWalt, who sent them on this "mission". It was a modest cabin, actually. According to the information he had been sent, it contained a large bedroom and bathroom upstairs and the downstairs consisted of a kitchen/living room combination.
"I thought we would be 'roughing it' some more!" Cody exclaimed, hopping up onto the porch that surrounded the entire cabin.
Donovan shrugged as he unlocked the door. "Just a test of your fortitude, Agent Forrester. Torture is over…for now."
"Haha, very funny," Cody retorted. He pushed past Donovan and entered the cabin first. He nearly tripped over the baggage that was piled up just inside the door.
"All of your belongings that were left back at the base have been brought here," Donovan explained. "Jake, there's a shower at the top of the stairs."
"Wow…this place is great," Monica commented as she moved about the room. She reached for the lamp that sat on the end table and turned the switch. She nearly jumped when the light flicked on. "Electricity?"
Donovan shook his head and worked hard to hold back his laughter. "There's a generator. It was turned on this morning when the luggage and supplies were delivered."
"Explain to me why we're staying…why there just wasn't someone here to pick us up?" Jake asked as he made his way up the stairs.
"You'll have to ask the Director, who arranged this weekend," Donovan answered flippantly. How could he possibly explain the mindset behind this excursion?
He had not exactly been receptive to it at first. His thoughts were that it would do more damage than good, however, it seemed DeWalt might have been onto something. Sam seemed amenable to his presence and Quinn was releasing the resentment she had kept bottled inside her for five years. DeWalt had a special interest in the two Intelligence agents, having been the one who recruited them in the first place. DeWalt had fought tooth and nail to keep Sam and Quinn together after their failed mission when his superiors felt it best to break them apart.
DeWalt won the battle after both agents passed all psychological exams immediately following the mission. It was nearly a year later, when subsequent exams took place, that issues began to arise. Now faced with little choice but to reassign the longtime friends and partners, DeWalt feigned a mission that, although it appeared legitimate on the CIA's ledger, was entirely personal. Donovan objected to the deceitful ploy, but acquiesced when assured his team would not be held responsible for the outcome in any way.
As he watched Quinn and Alex wash up at the kitchen sink and then turn their attention to the task of preparing sandwiches for the group from the fully stocked refrigerator, he still had to wonder if he was doing the right thing. He couldn't deny that it appeared Quinn had made some sort of breakthrough, although he was sure she still had a long road to travel. Sam seemed to take to the group easily enough, putting aside whatever issues he might still harbor with Donovan. Perhaps DeWalt was right; Sam and Quinn just needed to face the person they held responsible to allow themselves to see what really happened; that it was no one's fault.
Donovan watched with amusement as Cody, Alex, and Sam all washed up in the kitchen sink and waited impatiently at the small kitchen table while Monica and Quinn prepared sandwiches. His stomach grumbled loudly; he was just about to follow their example and make his way toward the sink to wash his face and hands when Jake lumbered down the stairs.
"Next!" A freshly cleaned Jake called loudly. "I'd say the other person who took a header into the quicksand should go next."
"Ew, yeah. It smells like something died all over you," Alex deadpanned.
"Funny," Donovan retorted, grabbing his belongings from the pile of luggage near the door. As he climbed the stairs to the shower, his stomach growled in protest. "Save me a sandwich," he called over his shoulder.
"Sure thing," Jake answered. "Oh, and by the way...there's no hot water."
"At this point, does it really matter?" Monica asked, tugging at her perspiration soaked shirt. "I'd say as long as it's water...that's all that matters."
"Here, here," Sam agreed. "By the way...who gets the only bedroom?"
Donovan snickered lightly. "That would be me."
"Figures," Cody whined. "Guess we're stuck with the couch and that stack of cots over by the wall.
"I guess you are," Donovan answered lightly as he reached the top of the stairs. "Unless you care for the floor...or perhaps more of the outdoors."
There was no argument from anyone. The cots or the couch would do just fine. While each person took a turn showering, the remainder worked at setting up the cots, opening all the windows, and turning on the ceiling fans throughout the cabin. It was while Donovan was upstairs in the bedroom that he happened upon a message that was left for him in his bag by DeWalt.
Donovan,
Have decided that if you have reached the cabin in one piece, my plan is working. Don't expect pickup Sunday as planned; I want to give this as much time as possible.
As you've no doubt discovered, the cabin has been stocked with enough food for three more days. If you want hot water, there is a heater in the small shed off the back of the cabin – just light the pilot light. There's enough fuel to keep the generator going, just keep an eye on it.
If you must contact me or if an emergency comes up, there is a ham radio in the bedroom closet. Keep it under wraps, Donovan. I don't want them deciding it's time to bail just because they know there's a way to get in touch with 'civilization'.
DeWalt.
Donovan glanced at the doorway when he spied movement in the tiny hallway. Monica was leaving the small bathroom and the last person awaiting a shower entered. Quinn. He was anxious to get her alone again to clear the air between them.
He was amazed his feelings for her had never abated over the years, although he had pushed thoughts of her to the back of his mind. Her immediate and complete emotional withdrawal from him had stung his pride and he had to admit it had scarred him a bit. Any personal relationships he attempted with women never amounted to much; never meant more than physical release to him. No emotions ever entered into it.
~*~
To be continued…