A/N – A lot of transportation and scenic details are completely fabrication
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John continued driving through the town – which basically consisted of three brick buildings containing a couple of stores and a pub and a gas station – until he found an unpaved road that headed through a wooded area. He continued down it for a couple of miles, the Ford Escort bouncing pitifully over the bumps and holes, until suddenly he pulled off the road, through bushes and trees and then backed the car into a particularly dense area.
"What now?" Natalie asked. She was still gripping the phone tightly in her hands.
"I'm going to call an old buddy." John held out his hand and Natalie dropped the warm phone into his palm.
"You have a lot of friends in obscure places, but Maine?" Natalie asked as she undid her seat belt and leaned closer to the dashboard to keep watch for anyone following them.
"You'll like him," John promised as he dialed the number from memory. A few moments later his friend answered and he proceeded to tell him their predicament, in the most bare of terms, and asking for an assist. After a short conversation he closed the phone and told Natalie to get outo of the car.
"Where are we going?" She asked.
"We'll sit on the other side of those trees. I don't want to be a sitting target in here, if someone is following us." This was the first time John had voiced his doubt.
Natalie didn't look at him as she grabbed her bag from the back seat.
"Hey? You okay?"
"You're thinking he's still brainwashed and he's setting us up." Now, Natalie pinned him with a look over the top of the car.
"I have to consider it. Just like I have to consider that they are following us. I'm sorry if that upsets you."
Natalie sighed and walked to the front of the car where he was waiting. "I'm sorry. I'm not upset with you. I was thinking the same thing."
John put his hand on her upper back and led her to their temporary hiding place. He made sure she sat down and then scoped out the area to make sure he had uninterrupted sight from all directions.
"It would be all right if you were angry with me," he said quietly when he was done, drawing his gun.
"Why?" Natalie looked up at him.
"I kept the DNA results secret. I let him go to prison without an identity. Without making sure he got help."
Natalie nodded and looked down at her hands for a moment.
John waited tensely for her response.
"You said you did it because he asked you to. Because you wanted to protect me from what my husband had become."
"You are angry." John studied her face.
"You should have let me make my own choices. I can take care of myself, John. Psycho killers excepted."
"I know. I know you can." He looked around as he detected the sound of an approaching vehicle. He put a hand out to signal Natalie to keep quiet and he cocked his gun and crept forward.
After a few moments, they heard the vehicle stop nearby. Then a door opened and there was a call of a shrill bird, then a wolf whistle.
John put his fingers to his lips and blew out an answering call.
"Hey, McBain. Get your flat ass out here!"
"Stop looking at my ass McRae!" John grinned and helped Natalie stand up.
"Your good friend I take it?" she commented.
"You'll like him."
Natalie just barely stopped her jaw from dropping when she saw the man and the truck. The truck was a light blue monstrosity full of dents, dings and rust. The man next to it was the last thing she expected to be driving such a thing. He was simply gorgeous. Moss green eyes, dimples, Hugh Grant hair and Seven jeans and a button down shirt that matched his eyes. Divine.
"Tate McRae, at your service." He walked over to Natalie and introduced himself. He took her hand and pressed his lips to it. "A pleasure to meet you," he said as he lingered.
John pounded him on the back, but Tate still didn't let go right away.
"Come on, man!" John laughed and pulled him away. Natalie smiled over the attention and John's obvious jealousy.
The two men engaged in a manly hug, lots of back pounding and comments. Natalie enjoyed the sight of a happy John. She tilted her head, studying him. She didn't think she'd seen him look this happy in a long time.
"Let's get going. Make sure she buckles in," Tate directed.
John helped Natalie climb up into the truck and got in after her. He had some trouble pulling the door shut. When he was done, he made sure Natalie was securely belted in and then buckled himself in.
A few minutes later, Natalie realized there was a method to the madness of the truck as they didn't take any set roads, but traveled through fields and up and down hills.
"Where are we going?" she shouted towards John as she struggled to hang on. John had his arm wrapped around his shoulder and he was holding the "oh shit" handle by the door.
"Later!" he laughed maniacally as they hit another pothole that sent them bouncing under their restraints.
Natalie grabbed John's shirt and let out a laugh of her own. She hadn't been four wheeling since high school in Jersey. She had a fleeting thought that maybe she shouldn't be enjoying herself so much, but the joy on John's face was infectious.
About an hour later they pulled onto a dirt road that led to a modern looking house on a lake.
"Welcome to Chez McRae. Come inside. Everything should be ready soon."
John helped Natalie out of the truck, conscious of her tender ankle. "This is gorgeous. Are we staying here?"
"We're just here to get some new ideas. We're going to drive to the border and get on a train and go into Canada," John explained and led her into the house.
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John and Natalie stayed long enough to get their new identity papers, including passports completed and to have a meal and a rest. Tate also provided them with some new clothes and real luggage. Natalie wished they'd had time enough for her to luxuriate in a bath, but the shower was excellent enough.
After their meal, they got into a Mercedes that was more in keeping with what she expected to see Tate driving. During the drive Tate regaled Natalie with stories of his days working with John in the Bureau. It turned out Tate used to work in the Bureau with John and had left the service a few years ago to start his own security firm. He knew John pretty well and had obviously also known Caitlin, although he made no obvious reference to her.
It was after dark when Tate left the state road and drove into a city. He drove them straight to a towering brick building and stopped the car.
"Where are we?" Natalie asked.
"St. Pierre Hotel. You'll spend the night here and catch the train tomorrow."
"A hotel? Not a fleabag motel? No roaches? A real bathtub?" Natalie was in raptures.
"Tim is going to go inside and arrange for your room." Tate was referring to their rather silent driver.
"Room?" Natalie looked at John, one eyebrow lifted.
"Mr. and Mrs. Kent on their first anniversary trip would surely not have separate rooms." John slid his hands around "Mrs. Kent's" waist and pulled her against him.
"Mr. Kent surely wouldn't sleep on the couch on their first anniversary either." Natalie slid her arms around his neck.
"Elana, surely my snoring is too much for you when we're in the same bed?" John whispered in her ear.
Natalie turned her head and met his lips. He groaned in protest, but was unable to force himself to pull away. His hands slid down her hips and pulled her closer to his arousal as Natalie thread her fingers through his hair and pulled him deeper into the kiss.
"Ahem. Mr. and Mrs. Kent, the porter is ready to take your baggage to your room. The Honeymoon Suite." Tate interrupted their clinch.
John was panting as he pulled back. Natalie slid her hand down his back to his ass. "The Honeymoon Suite. I don't think we should put it to waste."
John groaned and took her hand and walked over to Tate to say thanks and goodbye.
Before he left, Tate leaned down and whispered in Natalie's ear. "You're the best thing that ever happened to him. Don't let him squirm out of it."
"I won't," Natalie promised and grabbed John's hand back and followed their luggage into the hotel.
"Whew. Imagine her in red hair," Tate said as he got back into the car.