Sometime later, they sat, propped up on a myriad of pillows. Charlemagne had his arms wrapped around Meaghan as if he intended never to let her go.

"I'm sorry, Meg," he murmured, kissing her on the tip of her nose. He had already said it several times during the tempestuous love-making session, more, probably, than he had ever used the phrase in his entire life.

"You don't have to keep saying that," she said softly, tracing a finger over the delicate arch of his collarbone.

"Why did you come here?" he queried. "After the way I behaved tonight, it would have been understandable if you never wanted to see me again. Not that I'm complaining," he added, catching hold of her hand and kissing the palm.

"I promised that I would," she answered, tilting her head back and kissing his chin, that only part of his face she could reach at the moment. "I just couldn't bear the thought of not being with you again. And I was hoping," she added a little shyly, "that you would feel the same way."

"It's never been this way before, Meg," he confessed. "Not with any other woman I've ever been with."

"Of course not, silly," she said impishly. "I'm not any of them."

&&&&&&&&

Two days later:

Meaghan deftly blocked Bekka's punch, then caught her wrist and flipped her onto the mat with a thud.

"You've really been improving the last few days, Mom," Bekka observed, still prone on the floor. "Charlemagne said he thought he might be able to find a way to motivate you. I guess he did."

"Had enough?" Meaghan asked, forcing a grin that she didn't feel.

"Sparring practice, yes, most definitely," Bekka replied, pulling herself to her feet. "But how about a little girl-talk?"

"You have a problem, Bekka?" Meaghan asked, slipping into morale officer mode.

"Not at present." Bekka eyed her sparring partner questioningly. "But I was wondering if you do. Ever since the delegates left the ship for the conference, you've been, well, kind of mopey. And I'm not the only one who's noticed it."

"I guess the extra work has just left me feeling a little run-down," Meaghan hedged. "I expect that after we get everyone back to where they belong I'll settle back down to normal."

"You are a terrific organizer, and a great morale officer, Mom," Bekka said, "but you're one lousy liar. Is it King Haedmon? Dylan filled me in on that little incident."

"No, it isn't that." Meaghan unconsciously let her thoughts drift toward Charlemagne, and her eyes acquired a dreamy look.

Bekka caught that look and sized it up immediately. "You've fallen in love with someone, haven't you? One of the delegates?"

Meaghan sighed. Bekka was right in that she was a terrible liar, but much as she wanted to, she couldn't tell her about Charlemagne. "Yes and yes, Bekka, but that's all that I can tell you, really."

Bekka realized that she had gotten as much out of Meaghan as she was going to and decided not to try to force the issue. "Just remember, that if you need someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on I'm here."

Meaghan hugged her, but said nothing for fear that she would burst into tears.

&&&&&&&

When the delegates finally returned to the ship at the conference's end, Charlemagne immediately went to Meaghan's office. It was empty, and he was turning to leave when she emerged from her quarters.

"Meg." He rushed over to her and swept her up into his arms and kissed her.

"Charlemagne," she protested weakly. "Someone could come in and see us."

"Let them," he said, gazing down at her and just taking in the sight of her. "I missed you, Meg, so much."

"It's only been three days," she pointed out, then gave the lie to her casual attitude by pulling his head down so that she could kiss him.

"And you didn't miss me?" he teased, once they had come up for air.

"Terribly," she admitted. "All I could think about was you."

"Ah, Meg," he murmured, squeezing her tightly. "What have you done to me? I'm acting like a schoolboy with his first crush."

Before Meaghan could formulate a reply, the AI appeared in the room, and hastily averted holographic eyes from the embracing couple. They separated, but not too quickly and not too far from each other.

"Excuse me," Andromeda said. "But Bekka asked me to find out if Charlemagne intended to resume your training, Meaghan."

"Of course," Charlemagne answered, seemingly unruffled by the interruption. "Was there anything else?"

"As a matter of fact there is," the AI replied. "Meaghan, Dylan wanted me to let you know that King Haedmon is returning home on another ship."

"He is?" Meaghan was patently relieved. "But I don't understand why. Surely not because of me?"

"You underestimate yourself," Andromeda said. "Not everyone does. Dylan said that after what you went through with," the AI paused briefly. "Well, I won't repeat his comments verbatim, but the captain felt that it was the least he could do after all you've done for the good of the crew." The hologram winked out.

Charlemagne looked at her puzzled expression, then suddenly grinned wickedly. "It's over an hour till our training session, Meg." He took her hand and started leading her to her room. "How about a training session of a different sort?"