Chapter Six

Most men would've probably walked away, seeing Jaime's tears, and her sliding to the floor, as too much feminine manipulation. Steve knew that was simply not her nature; it never had been, and nothing and no one in the world could've made him leave. Her devastation was genuine, and he rose above his own pain with an overwhelming need to comfort her. He moved swiftly to Jaime's side, kneeling next to her on the floor and very gently encircling her in his arms. This time, she didn't duck away.

Jaime's entire body trembled as she leaned into the comfort and safety of Steve's strong, loving arms. He ran one hand very slowly through her hair, while his other hand tenderly rubbed the small of her back with a very light pressure that let her know she should remain exactly where she was, for as long as she needed to. Her arms were soon wrapped around his body, as well, clinging to him as tightly as if he were a life ring in the middle of a stormy sea. She had moved beyond tears, so they sat silently, just holding each other, for nearly twice as long as the argument had lasted.

Finally, Jaime raised her head and, with her face just inches from Steve's, her eyes reached out to his and her expression grew serious. "Steve, we can talk about all the rest of it; I'll answer any questions you wanna ask. But I want you to know that I married you because I love you with every fiber of my being, and I know without any doubt that I always will."

"I love you, too, Sweetheart, more than I can put into words." He held her face gently in both of his hands, pulling her closer for a slow, soft kiss. "I'm the one with questions to answer," he told her.

"Maybe. But before you say anything, you should know why these questions came up in the first place. I never should've kept it from you - I'm so sorry."

"Tell ya what," Steve bargained, "how 'bout we just start the whole conversation over from the beginning."

"Colonel, I like how you think."

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Steve fed the fire, then sat down on one side of the ugly (but quite comfortable) little plaid love seat, taking care to leave the second cushion vacant and - he hoped - inviting. Jaime returned from the kitchen with fresh mugs of coffee, handed one to her husband and turned toward the rocker in the corner.

"Jaime? I'd really like it if you'd sit here, with me." She turned and, with an expression that reminded Steve of a deer in the headlights of a semi, slowly sat down beside him. What she was about to tell him couldn't be all that terrible - could it? Steve took her hand carefully in both of his and smiled lovingly into her frightened eyes. "Whatever this is about, we will get through it."

Jaime took a long, deep steadying breath. "Two days ago, when Oscar called me in, he sent me to see Jack Hansen. Jack showed me a picture of Lydia and told me she'd defected from the Soviets to us."

Steve looked surprised. "Hansen told you that?"

"Yeah. He said some of the information she'd gathered - for our side - wound up for sale instead. Then he showed me another picture. You...your arm...was around her waist, and she was giving some kind of envelope or packet. Hansen said you sold her information - that you were a dirty agent."

"Oh, my God..."

"He said that since we live together, I had to investigate you and bring him the evidence, and if I warned you or tried to protect you, I'd be charged, too."

Steve brushed his fingertips along Jaime's cheekbone. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

"I checked with Oscar, and he said I had no choice, no legal protection, because we weren't related -"

Steve got the picture now; all of it. "That's why we got married."

"No. Please don't think that. We got married because I love you. I wanna spend the rest of my life loving you. We got married so quickly because I couldn't keep this from you. Now they can't force me to turn over evidence or testify against you. Besides, I will never believe you could've done what Hansen's claiming."

"I didn't."

"I know," Jaime confirmed, smiling at him for the first time in hours. "Steve...there's more."

"Tell me," he said, taking her gently in his arms.

"I was supposed to check in with Hansen first thing yesterday morning. When he didn't hear from me, he put out APBs. At noon today - their time - he's gonna issue arrest warrants, for both of us."

"That's less than eight hours -"

"Oscar wanted to send someone to bring us back," Jaime told him.

"He knows where we are?"

"Uh-uh. That's why I wanted to come here, instead of staying in a hotel."

"We can still make it back in time -"

"Oscar said he'd try to stall, buy us some time..."

"Jaime, maybe if I went back by myself, Hansen would agree to leave you out of it."

"No way; if we're going back, we're going together. Husband and wife - a team."

"Jaime -"

"Non-negotiable."

Steve sighed. "Why don't we call Oscar back and see if he was able to hold things off; you should have all the facts before you make that decision. My turn for truth-telling."

Jaime got up. "I'll call."

Steve joined her in the kitchen, just in time to see her face turn death-pale, as she dropped the phone receiver and backed away from it in horror. "No..." She was mumbling.

Steve caught the receiver in mid-swing. "Oscar? You still there?"

"I'm here. I'll tell you what I just told Jaime. I couldn't buy you any extra time because warrants have already been issued."

"But -" Steve began to protest.

"Steve, this is a whole new game now, and we're in a completely different ballpark. About an hour ago, Lydia Spence was found dead. Murdered."

"They think I did it..." Steve guessed.

"No; they think Jaime did. But they've charged both of you. Now, you know that I can't tell you to break any laws, but I don't advise coming back here right now -"

"I understand," Steve replied grimly. "We're safe for now; Oscar, I'll call you back later."

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