A/N - thanks for the great feedback! It feeds the muse! Do you recognize a scene in this one!

>>>>
Touching You 18

Natalie couldn't keep the smile off her face as she and John walked, hand in hand, from the ticket area to the train. She felt John's eyes on her from time to time, but she had no desire to play it cool. She had been waiting for this for what seemed like forever. It wasn't just part of a cover story. This was real. As she breathed in the crisp air of New England, at the end of the United States, she knew it couldn't feel more real if she was back home in AC or Llanview.

She felt John's eyes on her, but she averted her eyes and smiled her secret smile.

Natalie looked out the window of the train as they crossed from the United States into Canada. It was her first time outside her home country. It might only have been Canada, but it might as well have been Timbuktu. She only regretted that the stamp she had gotten before the train had left was not in her own passport.

She put her hand in the cool seat next to her. John had said he was going to get them drinks, but she knew he was also going to check out their fellow passengers. She could tell that he had some sort of instinct that they were still being followed. She couldn't blame him, she didn't say anything, but when they had been standing in the train station waiting for immigration clearance she had gotten chills on her neck.

She felt those chills again when someone came to stand beside her row. Startled, she looked over.

"J…Joey, what's wrong?"

"Come on."

Natalie grabbed her bag and slid out of the seat in front of John. He pushed her through the car. Once they got outside the car she turned and looked at him carefully.

"What's wrong?" She saw him pressing his hand to his side.

"Just come on." John pushed her hands away and grabbed her arm and began to pull her into the next car. Silently, she allowed him to push her through three cars until they reached the platform above the couplers between the first class cabin and the crew car.

Natalie put her hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her.

"We were followed. Tate's men took them out."

"But not before you were hurt. Let me see."

"Not now. The train stops in a few minutes. We'll get off and get a motel room." John put his free hand on Natalie's cheek. "I'm fine.' Then he took his hand back and took out his gun.

"Let me." Natalie put her hand over the gun.

They looked at each other silently for a long moment, before John nodded and handed the gun over.

"The safety," John began to explain, but before he could instruct her she had released the safety and cocked the gun.

"What?" She gave him a grin and a wink. "Get behind me."

"Yes, ma'am," John said, his voice laced with pain.

Natalie put the safety back on and slid the gun into the waist band of her jeans. Then she opened her bag and pulled out a shirt and pressed it into John's hands.

He gave her a cryptic look and slid it under his shirt.

Natalie blinked back tears and turned to keep look out.

A few minutes later, as John predicted, the train stopped. She hid the gun behind her large bag and stopped herself from helping John down from the coupler platform.

She could feel his breathing labored behind her and her own heart pounded with concern for him. Tears pricked her eyes as they went to the front of the train station and John hailed a taxi.

John asked the driver to take them a hotel in an area with some shopping for his wife and then leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

Natalie ignored his protests and put her hands under his shirt. She pulled her hand out and it was stained with blood. She bit back a gasp and looked up at him. He shook his head and leaned sideways to press a kiss to her cheek.

"I'm fine. Act cool. Check us in." He handed over his wallet and sat up as straight as he could.

In ten minutes they were in a populated area and she pulled Canadian money Tate had provided out of his wallet and paid the taxi. She left him lounging on a couch as she checked in with Mrs. Elana Kent's American Express. She complained of their lost luggage and that it was expected the next morning.

She helped John into the elevator and gave him one of the room keys and went back out, ignoring John's warnings to not go alone.

>>>>>>

Fifteen minutes later Natalie entered the room with a brown bag of groceries. She put the bag down on the room's table and went to John who was lying down on the bed.

"Let me take a look."

"I'm not bad."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"What are you a nurse? I'm fine." He tried to avoid her inspection, but she forced his shirt up and moved the makeshift pressure bandage he had made with her shirt out of the way. She gasped when she saw the amount of blood soaking the fabric.

"Not bad? Why do you always have to be the hero? Why can't you just admit it hurts like hell?"

"Okay, it hurts like hell."

"Was that so hard?" she asked.

"No, but it didn't really help either."

Natalie grabbed the paper bag and put it beside her on the floor.

"Maybe this will."

"Scotch?" John asked hopefully.

"Better, bandages and antiseptic cream with pain killers."

"Okay, so now I'm in pain and disappointed."

"Shut up." Natalie couldn't stop herself from smiling as she unbuttoned his shirt and began to pull it off his shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

"Just lie still."

She began to tend his wound.

"I know you'd like it if we were back in Texas in the old days, just like one of my Buchanan ancestors." She smiled at the thought of the long line of people she was now related to. "I'd get some hooch from the local saloon and pour half of it on your wound and half down your throat. Then you could bite a bullet while I used a branding iron to cauterize the big, gaping hole in your stomach."

"Hooch?" John laughed then grimaced the pain.

"What happened, John?" She didn't look up from the flesh wound on his side she was bandaging.

"It was no big deal. Some guys had followed us on the train. They saw me and chased me through a couple of cars. Tate had sent some bodyguards with us. They took them out, but not before one of them got a shot off me. I'm fine."

"Well, I'm not. When I saw you come over clutching your side, my heart stopped. Why are you doing this? Why are you on the run with me?"

"It's my job. To protect and serve."

"If that's true, why didn't we go with the FBI to another safe house? Or back to Llanview? Why are we hiding out like fugitives and running into another country? Who are these people and why are they trying to hurt me?"

"I'm really going to need that scotch if I'm going to answer so many questions."

A tear slid down Natalie's cheek as she moved to pull off John's shoes.

"Hey," John whispered.

"Okay, then just answer one. Is this really all business for you?"

John didn't answer, but he couldn't look away from her piercing blue eyes.

"No. I told you before I…I love you. Saving you has always been gut instinct."

Natalie moved up and began to remove his pants.

"What are you doing?"

When she was done she pulled the blankets out from under him and tucked him into the bed. She climbed over him and lay down next to him.

"Why did it take you so long to admit what I've known all along?"

"Because I'm slow?"

Natalie laughed and put her arm around his chest.

"I love you, John." She sighed.

"Then how about feeding me?"

Natalie smiled and pressed a kiss his to his cheek.