Note: Please see Prologue for warning, copyright and disclaimer information.

A Matter of Trust

After Jax cleared the use of the phone, Mac called Brenda and left a brief message on her voice mail. When he'd hung up, he looked over at me from the other arm of the couch. "Did you get all that?"

"Like there were two sides to the conversation," I mumbled.

"There was a voice mail message," he said.

I shrugged. "It was Brenda, did I care?"

"Yes."

He was right, I had overlistened. "Did you want me to listen?"

"No," he replied knowingly, "but you usually do."

"I'm just following suit," I told him. "You know, you usually do, so I usually do."

He stood and walked toward me. When he reached into his coat it occurred to me that I wasn't the least bit concerned about what he'd pull out. He leaned over and tucked my hair behind my ear with his free hand, then pulled a daisy from his coat and placed it behind my ear. He looked down at me for a moment, then sat down next to me.

I smiled. "So when did you find time to get the daisy?"

"There's always time," he drawled. "Do you not like it?" He leaned forward as if take it back.

"I didn't say I didn't like it," I said as I moved out of his reach and adjusted it behind my ear. "So this is a twelve-hour flight?"

"Yes."

I looked around the cabin and wondered what we were going to do for that long. I knew what I wanted to do and it wouldn't take twelve hours. "Is there a movie on this flight?" There was a big television and a cabinet that looked like it held a hundred or so videodisks.

"This may be our last chance to have any semblance of privacy," he said seriously. "I don't know what accommodations Brenda has prepared, if any."

"If it's anything like the last accommodations she prepared, we'll have a room alone together, again." I could hope, anyway. "Is there something that you wanted to do while we're here alone, together?"

"I was just preparing you," he replied.

"What, for being with a whole bunch of vamps in a chantry?" I asked irritably. "Been there." Hated it.

"For being with Brenda for a few days," he corrected me. "I know that you don't have the most amicable relationship."

Whatever that meant. "For some reason she doesn't like me."

"The feelings not mutual?"

"Oh, of course it is," I said honestly. "You know, it might have something to do with me being cryptic girl."

"Being what?"

Shows how much he hung around teenagers. "Cryptic girl? You know, cryptic comments?"

He shook his head. "And I'll be in the middle of you two."

"You're the one who invited her along," I reminded him.

"Not really," he told me. "She kind of invited herself."

"Did you forget how to say no?" I asked, a little aggravated at the reminder that we had so little time left alone.

Mac made me laugh by pretending that he couldn't say the word.

"Hey," I said smiling, "that could come in handy. What do I want from you?"

He turned to look at me quite seriously. "What do you want from me Elizabeth?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "What can I get away with?"

"Certainly not staking me," he told me.

"Are you sure?"

"You can try," he drawled.

I laughed. "Didn't we have this discussion?"

"Yes." He pretended to think about what he'd let me get away with. "I don't think I'll let you throw me from the plane."

As if I would. "And get sucked out myself? I don't think so, not a good idea."

"I'm not going to let you fly the plane," he added.

That would be interesting if I knew how to fly. "Jax might."

"Do you want me to go ask him?"

"No, he and I spent enough time together when we had breakfast," I reminded him.

"Yes, how did that go?"

I blinked. Had Mac expected me to behead the ghoul? "Well, we had breakfast. What do you want me to say?"

"Did you eat in silence?" he asked patiently.

"No."

"Whatever did you talk about?"

"Fangs," I told him. When he looked at me expectantly, I added, "Not yours. We just exchanged bite stories."

He smiled. "I have a feeling his were a bit more pleasant."

"Most of them," I agreed. "Somehow I get the feeling that almost everybody's bite stories are more pleasant than mine."

"You just haven't been bitten correctly," he told me.

Was he volunteering? I looked away to hide that question in my eyes. I wasn't quite sure I was ready for the answer.

He leaned forward until he could see my face.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, sitting back. "You have yet to answer my question."

I frowned. "I did answer your question. We talked about fangs and bite stories."

"No, about what you want from me," he explained.

"You didn't answer my question," I reminded him. "What can I get away with?"

"Whatever are you planning on?"

I told him the truth. "Depends on what I can get away with."

"What were you planning on trying to get away with?" he asked, watching me expectantly.

"I don't know that I had anything planned," I said evasively. I turned my face away from him, but I knew that if he wanted to know what I was thinking he didn't have to look in my eyes, he could read my aura.

He leaned forward to see my face, and I looked at him from the corner of my eye. "Tell me what you want, Eliza," he urged.

"Haven't we been through this?" I asked impatiently. "I'm not—"

"No, we haven't," he said firmly.

"—good at telling what I want," I finished quietly. I shook my head; this was no way to get what I wanted and I knew it. I cleared my throat a little and tried not to smile. "I hope we want the same thing, Mac," I said as I turned to look at him.

"That's not what I asked," he said evenly.

I turned on the couch to face him more, hoping that he wanted me the way I wanted him, even a little. I leaned forward slowly, half expecting him to turn away. His lips were soft against mine and it felt like heaven when he kissed me back. He put his hand on the side of my neck and I snuggled into it even as we deepened the kiss.

Eventually my hands found their way to his chest and the buttons of his shirt. I tried to run my hands down his ribs, but his weapons were in the way. Still kissing him, I lifted out first one handgun, then the other and sat them blindly on the low table in front of us. When he added a stake to the pile, his own, I smiled against his lips.

We only paused in our kissing to disarm each other of one weapon or another and by the time we were done it was amazing the number of weapons that had found their way to the low table. I pushed at his shirt and it fell to the couch along with both of his jackets. A moment later, my jacket was also out of the way.

I felt his fingers on my thigh and heard the zipper of my boot slide downward. He leaned forward to push the zipper all the way down and I caught the stake before it fell to the floor. I took the knife from my other boot before he unzipped that one and slid my feet free.

He pulled away enough to whisper, "What does this have to do with fangs or a fireplace?"

"Who said it had anything to do with fangs or a fireplace?" What was I supposed to do, tell him I wanted to relive the dream I'd had the other night? I'd go for the sex part easily enough, but I still wasn't sure about the fangs.

"Just asking," he murmured as he kissed me again.

After a few minutes I couldn't help but notice he wasn't as into the kissing as he'd been so I pulled back and looked into his eyes. "Is there a problem?" I hoped there wasn't, I was enjoying this way too much.

"No." He didn't sound convincing.

"You asked what I wanted and I'm showing you," I said softly. "Is this not what you want?" Had I read him entirely wrong?

"I'm not sure if I'm able to give you what you want," he said hesitantly.

I couldn't stop the downward shift of my eyes. "There doesn't appear to be a problem," I told him meaningfully.

He smiled and caressed my cheek. "You know Jax could come back here and find us at any moment."

"He's flying the plane," I reminded him wryly, "but you have a point."

"Autopilot."

I nodded. "Isn't there a…?"

"Bedroom?"

"Yeah." I hated that my voice sounded breathless, but there it was. "That way. I'm ready."

We stood at the same time, but I grabbed a stake on my way up. When he looked down at it pointedly, I realized what I'd done. "This isn't for you," I told him honestly. "Sorry, habit."

"You have changed," he said as he took my free hand and led me into the bedroom. "I remember stakes before and after, but…." I laughed as he closed the door.

The next few hours were everything I remembered and more. My heated body warmed the temperature of his skin and kept us both warm while we rediscovered each other's bodies and moved together as one. For the first time in a long time I felt loved, even cherished.

Later when we lay together in the afterglow, he held me while my heart slowed to its normal rhythm and the breath slowed in my lungs. Of course, his heart wasn't pounding, or even beating for that matter, and he wasn't breathing at all.

When I could talk again, we whispered words of love to each other like we used to in Baltimore. If I tried really hard I could close my eyes and pretend we were there in the bed we used to share, but deep down I knew we could never have anything like that again.

Lying with my head on his shoulder and his arms around me, I felt more relaxed than I had in years, almost twenty of them to be exact. Silence filled the room and it was warm with love. I tried to commit every second to memory, knowing that we wouldn't be having moments like this when we got back to Salem.

I guess it's a measure of my trust in him that I actually fell asleep in his arms. If I had thought about it, I would have sworn there was not a chance in hell that I'd be able to sleep in the same bed with him, let alone without a stake under my pillow. But I did sleep, and quite well.

My dreams were filled with the life Mac and I might have had if Kate hadn't stepped in and ruined everything, dreams of Corrine and of Mac and I watching together as our daughter grew from a baby to the woman she is today.

Some time later a movement from Mac woke me. He lifted my arm and I felt his lips kiss the tender part of my wrist lingeringly, almost longingly. I shifted a little to look up at him and felt hunger pricking my stomach. I knew he hadn't fed tonight and wondered if he felt hungry too, although his hunger wouldn't be for food. I remembered the dream and felt my heart beat faster.

"Isn't there food in the fridge?" I whispered softly, looking at his mouth and wondering what it would be like to let him bite me.

He laid my hand back down on his chest almost reluctantly. "Yes, are you hungry?"

"Yeah," I admitted, watching his face. "Are you?"

"Not starving."

I figured that. Starving vamps tend to eat anything and any one they can get their fangs into. Hell, I'd been sleeping and before that he'd more than distracted me. If he'd wanted to bite me, he could have done it any time in the last four hours and I would have been caught completely by surprise.

"Does that mean if you bit me you wouldn't take it all?" I asked softly.

"I would not take it all anyway," he replied in the same tone.

I studied his face, wondering just how much I trusted him. Damn, I'd fallen asleep in his arms, didn't that mean I trusted him with my life?

"And you did bring that stake," he reminded me.

Oh yeah, the stake. Somehow I'd forgotten it was even there on the bed stand. "And it's all the way over there."

"Not that you couldn't get to it if you wanted to," he said with a slight smile.

It was on the other side of the bed, but I could probably have gotten it if it came down to that. "And the point is?"

"Exactly."

I turned my wrist a little and looked at the pulse point where he'd kissed it. The dream of his feeding was vivid in my mind and I could almost hear the way that he'd described being fed from. He'd told me that it wouldn't hurt, and I had to trust that he was right, even though I'd never felt anything but pain from a vampire's bite. I looked thoughtfully back into Mac's eyes.

"Maybe you should show me what I've been missing," I suggested softly.

He searched my face. "Are you sure about that?"

How could I be? It's not like I wanted to feel pain after the pleasure we'd just shared. But part of love is trust, isn't it? And blood is the ultimate sign of trust. "As sure as I can be."

He sat up slowly, holding my arm and taking me with him. We sat on the bed facing each other, and I watched as he kissed the pulse point of my wrist once more. My hand was trembling a little, but I honestly can't tell you if it was fear or anticipation that made it shake.

Mac dropped his head a little to the side before pressing a soft kiss against my wrist. Slowly, almost lovingly, I felt him sink his fangs into my flesh. I clutched at the bed with my free hand, surprised at the unexpected pleasure it gave me. I felt him drink just a little and knew he was waiting for my reaction before taking more.

I leaned closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder. I wanted him to continue almost more than I'd wanted to make love with him earlier. He began to drink again and the erotic sensations I felt made my heart pound.

Then I felt it wash over me, the peace I'd asked for in my dream. It was like the world disappeared and with every beat of my heart Mac and I were connected in a way we'd never been connected before. It was calming, like he'd told me it had been for him, but it was also arousing in a way I'd never known was possible to feel.

Too soon he pulled his teeth from my wrist and looked down at the wounds. I watched blood start to ooze from the holes he'd left behind, but before it could trickle down my arm he ran his tongue across my wrist and I felt the punctures close as if they'd never existed.

I took a deep shuddering breath and raised my head to look at him. He was watching me with heat in his eyes. I smiled and kissed him. I could taste my blood in my mouth and knowing that the warmth of his skin came from the blood that I'd given him made me want him all over again.

A moment later my stomach rumbled loud enough to remind me that although Mac had eaten, I hadn't. I pulled back with a hand to my stomach and smiled apologetically. "There's food in the fridge," I told him as I eased off the bed.

"Put some clothes on," he suggested as he stood up and reached for his clothes.

"I think so, yes," I agreed. I certainly didn't want to be running around the plane naked with Jax on board. I threw on the pants and shirt I'd stripped off earlier and went out into the kitchen.