A/N: Fair warning to those about to be heartbroken: "Angst" was always in the story description! Also, one must always assume a triology is in the works…
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Chapter 8
By the time Amy reached them, Don noticed that another woman was with her. This one had dark blonde hair, seemed a little older; more reserved.
"This is the friend I'm traveling with, Lisa. And you must be Don!"
Amy stepped into his space to give him a quick hug, and Don checked out Lisa. He had heard half of the telephone conversation, when had there been a set-up? Some deeply buried alarm bell went off inside. There was something familiar about Lisa.
He fell into step with her behind Charlie and Amy, got in line at the cafeteria. Don was last in line; Charlie and Amy were talking, already laughing at something, then Lisa, her back to him. Whoever she was, she must have decided she didn't like him already.
He took the opportunity to study her from behind. Her stance. The way her eyes traveled the room, in a pattern, and then back again. When a hurrying passenger bumped into Amy, apologized, Don didn't miss Lisa's hand creeping under her sweater…ready to grab a piece? He cleared his throat again. He wanted to see her face. "You ladies are both from L.A.?"
She glanced back at him briefly. "Yes. We work together." She turned back to the buffet line, then, but Don had seen enough.
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Breakfast over, the four strolled the deck, decided to check out the passenger photos to see if there was anything they wanted. Don waited until Charlie and Amy were on opposite sides of the corridor — Lisa closer to Amy.
"Charlie, I think I'll check out the gift shop, find something for Dad…" he forced himself to grin. "You and Amy can spend some more time together. Do you still want to play in that poker tournament this afternoon in the casino?"
Charlie looked a little surprised. "Yes, of course. Amy and I aren't rabbits, Don, we don't have to run off to the cabin every time we see each other. I'd like to help pick out something for Dad…"
Don laughed. "I didn't say you did. I was thinking you should sit next to the pool and eat ice cream."
Amy joined them, then, took Charlie's arm. "Please, can we go play Bingo? I had a friend who won another cruise playing Bingo."
Charlie looked at her. "If I could study the corresponding data — number of balls, type of container, the force with which that container is turned, and the number of times, and by whom…"
Amy started to drag him off. "Bring some paper. You can do that, I'll play your card." She looked back over her shoulder. "You two coming?"
Lisa started to follow, but Don moved to block her path. He smiled at Amy. "Tried Bingo yesterday. Maybe Lisa and I will just keep walking, for a while."
Amy smiled impishly, raised her hand in farewell and she and Charlie turned a corner. Don turned to face Lisa. There were several other passengers in the corridor, looking at pictures.
"Perhaps you'd like to join me in the library? We just passed it, and it was empty."
Silently she walked beside him. A few feet later they were there, and sat opposite each other at the room's only small table.
She spoke first.
"Agent Eppes."
He raised an eyebrow. "Agent Wilkerson. How have you been since Quantico?"
"Quite well."
"You went directly into Witness Protection when we graduated. Still there?"
She blinked at him, refused to answer.
"Who is she?"
She laid her hands on the table. "Look, the moment I saw you on deck that first night, I contacted my superiors. I warned them this might happen. I wanted to fly her back from Ensenada, but they had other ideas."
"Who is she?"
"Tammy Richardson, originally. She was a third-grade teacher in Chicago. Her live-in was with Chicago PD, a whistle blower. He was making cases and testifying against the biggest dirty-cop ring we've ever faced…underworld connections, the whole nine yards. A convenient home invasion left them both for dead — he was actually dead, but it seems he had already transferred certain documents to Tammy. She was able to make the last case he was working on."
"How at-risk is she?"
She leaned back in the chair. "We move her every six months. We're dealing with dirty cops, here, with the mafia, all the people who'd like to do them favors…I can't count the number of people who would like to see her dead. We just moved her to L.A. two months ago."
"How could you let her hook up with my brother?"
"I didn't know who he was, at first, and after I did — not only was it too late, I was hoping it was just a shipboard fling. I was trying to fly under the radar. I didn't even know we were meeting you for breakfast until we got there."
"Charlie doesn't fling. And I don't want him exposed to any more danger."
She nodded. "When I did the research, I found out that he was one of the vics of the attack on your office. I'm sorry about that, by the way, the whole thing. Really."
He formed his hands into a "V", rested his chin on them. "I want her relocated now."
She nodded again. "Already taken care of. My cover is blown, even if hers isn't. A team will meet us at the pier in the morning."
"Does she know that?"
"No, She never knows when we're moving."
"Do you think she'll tell Charlie anything?"
Agent Wilkerson was silent. Finally, "Like I said, she doesn't know we're moving, so she thinks she's got another four months with him. There's no reason to spill everything now, so I don't think so…" She shifted a little in the chair. "At least, I hope not. For his sake."
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He was whimpering a little in his sleep, and she raised her head up off his chest to kiss him, kept kissing until he started kissing back, and she knew he was awake.
She smiled at him, ran a hand through his hair. "I love this hair," she said.
He smiled back. "And to think I just told Don we weren't rabbits."
She giggled. "Poor guy. You keep red-dotting his cabin."
He shifted until he was sitting up in the bed, leaning against the wall. She returned to the pillow, curled on her side, looked at him.
His voice was apprehensive. "You really would see me again, back in L.A.?"
"Despite evidence to the contrary, Charlie, I don't usually fall into bed with guys twice during the first 24 hours of our relationship. I would like this to be something more."
She yawned. "I'm just saying, maybe you need to do some work, first."
He frowned. "You're going to push the therapy thing?"
"I never said that. I'm not about to wait for you to become perfect, or anything. It's certainly not like I am. I just think that maybe you need to face some fears, learn to accept some others…maybe therapy would help that, I don't know. Maybe you just need to be honest with yourself, your family…your brother obviously cares about you a great deal."
He didn't say anything and she moved down a little to run light fingers around his scar, again. "You know, Charlie, these people, the people who did this…they don't have to define who you are." She kissed the scar, then looked directly at him. "We decide who we are."
He slid back down in the bed, pulled her up to meet him. They turned into each other and he wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her hair. The ship rocked them gently, and he held on.
For now, that was enough.