by Bel-wah
Belwah82@aol.com

(See PART 1 for disclaimer and author’s note.)

**********

The daily bustle of the Piazza di Spagna was building nicely, thank you, as the morning sunlight streamed onto the square like burnished ribbons of gold: rich, warm, intoxicating. Shopkeepers clicked open heavy doors and threw open their window shutters, readying for a new day of business. Many Romans used the piazza as a shortcut to the Via Sistini or the Via Crispi, and so there were suited office workers, men and women alike, wearing sunglasses and disinterested expressions. They hurried without seeming to hurry, in that languid ease which is uniquely Italian.

In contrast, schoolchildren paused to stop at the fountain, the boys in dark pants, ties, and white shirts, proving their bravery in the face of a splash to the maroon-skirted girls who noticed them not at all. Or at least pretended so.

Rebecca Hanson sat on the balcony outside her room at the pensione, taking it all in, savoring it, and found herself amazing at how her life had completely changed its heading in less than a week. Been turned upside down, as a matter of fact. Just work a one-off flight to Rome, she’d thought, take in a few days sightseeing, and then fly back to New York. Or wherever else Orbis Airlines deigned fit to send her.

A terrorist hijacking, getting shot, falling in love – none of these heart-stopping events were in her plan. Most unusual, for a woman who liked to plan and organize… see to every last detail. Her rather extensive sightseeing agenda of Rome was proof enough of that.

Looking out over the wrought iron balcony rail, Becky yawned and smiled at the memory of how Catherine Phillips had put her itinerary in the shredder. Loudly dismissed her ambitious plans out-of-hand. And then promptly shown her the most breathtaking few days of her entire life. Capturing Becky’s heart in the process.

Most unexpected.

Heck, she thought, it was the last freaking thing I thought would ever happen to me!

Falling so hard, so fast, and for another woman, no less! Not according to plan. But the tall, dark airline pilot stirred something in Becky that she’d never felt before, not even close. If she were truly honest with herself she would admit that she’d felt the initial flutterings of it the moment she’d first caught sight of Kate across the crowded terminal at JFK.

And God, after last night… there was no way she could ever give that up. Not willingly. Not ever.

When that nightmare had awoken her and she’d found herself alone with that blasted note, at first she’d been paralyzed with shock. But then, quickly, her instincts had taken over and she’d forced herself to think. To plan.

There was only one place, she knew, where the runaway pilot would’ve headed.

The airport.

Somehow, some way, she’d reached deep down inside herself and found the guts to scramble into some clothes and follow her.

Now, sitting on the balcony, feeling the soft breeze caress her skin, she thanked whatever God was looking out for her, that she had.

"So, ready for some colazione?"

"Oooh – breakfast!" Becky turned in her chair as the tall pilot pushed through the balcony doors bearing a small tray. She had changed from her uniform into a pair of jeans and a casual, short-sleeved white blouse.

"Well, its the best I could scrounge up from Signora Canova," she said, placing the tray down on the small all-weather table. "I don’t think she likes me much. You should’ve seen the look she gave me!"

"I would’ve liked to have seen the look you were giving her!" Becky said pointedly, softening her words with an arch smile.

"Hey," Kate protested, "I asked nicely. I’m sure I was smiling."

"Like you are now?"

"Well," a slightly furrowed brow, "yeah!"

"Kate?" Becky gazed intently at the older woman.

"What?"

"You are not smiling."

"Well!" Kate sniffed, easing herself down in the chair next to Becky, "What can I say. The Signora brings out the best in me. We’re lucky we got anything to eat at all!" she said, waving her hand at the tray.

"Don’t sell yourself short, Captain," Becky said, laughing. The tray was piled high with rolls, brioche, toast and jam, and two cappuccinos. "Some of your formidable charm must’ve gotten through. This is pretty good scrounging!"

"Thanks," Kate said in a mollified tone. She reached out for a brioche. "Hey," she nibbled thoughtfully on the bun and pointed the remaining chunk of it towards Becky’s feet, "Speaking of charm – nice shoes!"

Becky followed Kate’s gaze. On her left foot, she wore a dark brown slip-on, while the right foot featured an open-toed, putty colored skimmer. In the light of day, the difference between the two was obvious.

"Oh no!" Becky groaned, immediately kicking off the offending footwear. "I was in a hurry… and I’d lost one of my shoes in the river… do you think anyone noticed?"

"Nah," Kate smirked, looking out over the piazza with sudden interest. "And anyway, if they did, they’re halfway to New York by now. You’ll never see ‘em again!"

"Riiiight," Becky shook her head and took a sip of her creamy cappuccino. "Until the next flight, that is. ‘Oh, hello there, Miss!’" Becky deepened her voice, "‘Glad to see you can dress yourself, now!’"

Both women laughed at that, with Catherine finally adding, "Don’t you worry. They give you any trouble, you let me know."

The two news lovers proceeded to eat in silence for a time, simply enjoying the quiet company of one another and taking in the ever-changing sights and sounds of the square.

Coo – coo!

From the red-tiled roof above them a pair warbling pair of roosting pigeons suddenly took flight. The furious flapping of their wings as the hefty birds powered away reminded Kate of old newsreel footage she’d seen as a child; of the experimental aircraft that preceded the Wright Brothers’ efforts. Large and ungainly, with aerodynamics that seemed to defy all scientific laws of flight. And indeed, one after another, the planes had plummeted heavily to the earth, after a brief bittersweet taste of free flight.

Or else they’d never gotten off the ground at all.

But not pigeons. Somehow, at the last moment, they were able to pull it all together and sustain their flight, hold their direction. No matter how out of control they first appeared.

Yes, Kate thought, those damn birds were survivors. And she was too, by God – a survivor. She deserved it. All of it. After all, hadn’t Becky said so just a few short hours ago?

Catherine watched the young blonde happily munching on the last of a roll as she slathered raspberry jam atop a slice of thick toast. How content the girl seemed now! If she hadn’t come after her and stopped her from leaving… Kate’s heart lurched at the thought. And after how I treated her!

A deep breath. "Rebecca—"

Green eyes lifted from the toast and studied the pilot.

"I - I’m sorry for the things I said," Kate released a sharp burst of air, and her shoulders sagged.

"I know."

God – was Hanson going to let her off that easy? The pilot pushed on. "It’s just that… what I’m feeling," she turned away and squinted in the sunlight, not looking directly at Becky, "it overwhelms me. I’m not used to… that."

"Me too," Becky replied, reaching out her hand to cover Kate’s own.

Catherine did not pull away from the touch. "But you’re different, Rebecca. You’re so… good. You deal with it. I’m not sure I know how. And yeah," she ran her free hand through her dark tresses, "it scares me."

Becky let her go on, sensing, knowing, that the troubled woman needed to somehow explain herself. For Kate herself to understand, as much as for Becky to hear. To work it through.

"When I feel that way – for any reason – even because of you – it triggers in me a part of myself I’m not very proud of. I – I don’t want to hurt you again, Rebecca, I couldn’t bear that." The pilot did turn to the young flight attendant then, her blue eyes misty in the ancient Roman sun.

"Lean on me, Kate," Becky said solemnly, giving the larger hand a squeeze, "I can take it."

The pilot looked at the flight attendant with a frank, apprising stare. "I do believe you can."

"That’s right," Becky vowed with a wry grin, lightening the moment. "Just you try any more of that funny stuff!" she menaced Kate with her right fist.

"Oh God, no!" Kate shrank back in spite of herself, and began rubbing her jaw thoughtfully. "I think you loosened a tooth with that last one."

A sharp intake of air. "Did I?" Becky’s voice was suddenly full of concern.

Kate continued to massage her jaw, moaning, before finally giving the young blonde a sidelong look and a wink. "Gotcha."

"Arrgh! You’re worse than my nieces!" Becky slammed her hand down on the armrest of her chair, sighing heavily. "Ah well, I guess I deserved that," she brushed a stray crumb off her lap and chuckled.

Kate’s eyes suddenly turned into two flinty chips of blue diamonds. "You deserve the best, Rebecca. Of everything." The pilot paused awkwardly, as if realizing the profoundness of that statement. "Which reminds me," she continued, quickly hiding her discomfiture, "Get dressed."

"Wha—" Becky was startled at the pilot’s sudden change in mood, watching her gather up the remains of their breakfast. She grabbed a last roll for the road. "What are we doing today?"

Kate lifted the tray and headed back through the balcony doors. "We’re going on a picnic."

**********

It was 30 minutes and two millennia from the Ausonia to Ostia Antica, the ancient seaport of Rome. The excavated town was now a government run archaeological site, lying in the grassy meadows between the Tiber River and the Tyrrhenian Sea.

Catherine made quick work of securing a basket and a blanket provided by Signora Canova to the back of the little Vespa.

"Wow," Becky had observed, when she’d seen the picnic basket groaning with fruit, cheese, bread, cold veal patties, and wine, "I thought you said the Signora didn’t like you?"

"She doesn’t" Kate had replied while leaning over and strapping the blanket to the bike. "But I remembered that the other day she offered to put together a basket, so I intended to hold her to it. And once she knew you’d be coming along," a blue eye peered at Becky from between strands of loose, dark hair, "it was all over. She couldn’t do enough… for you!"

"You’re welcome!" Becky laughed, sliding on her helmet and climbing onto the rear of the scooter.

Soon the two women were whizzing along the Via del Mare towards Ostia, leaving the heavier, more congested traffic of Rome behind.

It was hard for the pilot to believe she was actually on her way to Ostia, for so many times had she literally flown past the ruined city on her way to Rome, and never taken the time to go there. She understood it to be one of the most remarkable and under-visited sited in all of southern Italy. Indeed, Signora Canova had told her that on this unusually warm weekday morning, so early in the tourist season, they were likely to have Ostia and the adjacent pine forest of Castelfusano to themselves. And that was just fine with Kate. She didn’t much feel like sharing Rebecca Hanson with anyone.

The pilot found the nearness of the young woman sitting behind her, hanging on for dear life, exhilarating. Becky hadn’t said much since they hit the highway; the roaring breeze prevented that anyway, really. But Kate found herself highly attuned to Becky’s slight movements. She could feel her shift to take in a new sight, could tell when she saw something interesting by how she slightly tightened the grip she had on her waist; could sense her excitement and anticipation as Ostia Antica drew nearer and nearer.

It was as if Kate had known the little blonde for more than just a few days. Hell, Rebecca Hanson was doing such a job on the pilot’s thawing heart that she felt as though she’d known the damn girl forever! And that was a good feeling, Kate decided, after a moment’s consideration.

Still, thinking you know someone is one thing. The reality of it is another.

Kate had been wrong to leave Becky last night, and wildly presumptuous in her determination to make a decision for them both without consulting the young flight attendant. She knew that now. For Becky had set her straight, all right. In spades.

This ‘relationship’ thing, it was definitely new to her Kate thought, as she tooled the Vespa up to a nearly-empty parking area. She had much to learn. Not that she wasn’t looking forward to some serious instruction in the matter from one Rebecca Hanson.

"Wow, check it out!" Becky gasped, leaping off the back of the barely-stopped scooter, craning towards the entrance gate.

Kate grinned in spite of herself as she pulled off her helmet.

"It’s like people still live here or something! Kate, you gotta see this – c’mon!" the young blonde exhorted, before disappearing through the gate.

"Right behind ya, Champ," Kate shook her head, chuckling. "Right behind ya!"

**********

Signora Canova had been right. Ostia was nearly deserted. Unlike other tourist sites in Rome and its environs, there were no garishly colored tour buses, no clamoring crowds whose demanding shouts and cries sounded like a local meeting of the United Nations Press Corps. The ancient buildings waited quietly, with a hint of a breeze blowing through their open roofs, windows, and foundations, greeting Kate and Becky with a low, welcoming ‘hello.’

The two women opted to explore on their own, using only a map as their guide, preferring to take in the city on their own terms and timetable. And so Becky led the way, poring over the map and bobbing her head up periodically to orient herself. Kate trailed along next to her, backpack and blanket slung over one shoulder, carrying the picnic basket.

Slowly, they walked through the deserted streets of Ostia, marveling at buildings that looked, as though – with a few quick repairs – they could be fully functional today. Thanks to the protection of tidal silt and windblown sand, the buried seaport had faded from memory and remained hidden from the destructive hand of ‘progress’ until the beginning of the 20^th century. Now, under expert archaeological attention supported by both local and international universities, Ostia breathed to life once again, after a fashion.

Kate and Becky strolled down the Decumanus Maximus, the main thoroughfare crossing the city from end-to-end. Deep ruts still lined the cobbled road, the only signs that remained of the long-ago carts that had once clogged the via.

Structures that at one time housed temples, taverns, and groceries, all built of stone and brick, shared the roadside with columns of spruce and pine trees. Lining the walkway like silent sentries, the trees waved gently in the breeze as the women passed by.

Arched entranceways and a fishnet pattern to the brickwork were forms repeated in construction throughout the city, lending a distinct sense of continuity and ‘urban planning’ to it all. The early spring sun baked the quiet stones, and the heated air slipped softly among the buildings and streets, raising a light, fine dust along its path.

Taking a turn off the main road, they proceeded past the Temple of Jupiter, through the rather smallish forum, and onto a road that housed what looked to be the ancient world’s version of apartment buildings. Indeed, it was in these bricked, multi-story edifices where the common people: the merchants, sailors, and slaves of Ostia, lived and died.

"Wonder what the rent is on these things?" Becky’s voice echoed oddly as they stood in the cooler interior courtyard of building.

"If you have to ask, you can’t afford it!" Kate grinned, admiring the long-ago ingenuity that conceived of the highly functional design of the residences. This particular inner courtyard had a number of 2^nd floor ‘apartment’ balconies that would’ve overlooked what once had been a communal cistern and swimming pool.

Leaving the residential area behind, Becky and Kate walked to the thermal baths of Neptune. Here was Ostia’s ancient gathering place for movers and shakers in the city; deals were done, alliances forged, and fortunes won and lost. All under the guise of rest and relaxation in the healing, soothing waters of the baths. Inside the main bathing chamber, the young blonde gently traced her fingers over the edges of a huge, beautifully preserved mosaic of the sea god riding in his horse-drawn chariot.

"Some spa, huh?" Becky asked, looking over her shoulder at the tall pilot. "Can you imagine it?"

"Yeah," Kate replied matter-of-factly, lounging against the wall. "I can. And I think I would’ve passed on it."

"Figures!" Becky pushed herself to her feet. "You need to learn how to relax, Kate!"

"Oh, I know how to relax, all right!" the older woman smirked at her young companion. "I just wouldn’t have chosen to do it in here!"

"Really!" Becky mused, leading the way back onto the street. "Too public?"

"Nope." Kate stuck her tongue in her cheek. "Too private." She held back a smile at the confusion that skipped across Becky’s features.

"But these were public baths…."

"For men only."

"Wow!" Becky began animatedly paging through her guide, "Sex discrimination in the ancient world! Uh… how do you know that, Kate? It’s not mentioned in here, not that I can see."

"I just know," Kate replied, gazing off into the distance. "Take my word for it. Although," she added, turning to smile at her friend, "if I really had wanted to get into here, ‘men only’ wouldn’t have stopped me."

"I believe you," Becky laughed. "However…" she ran her eyes up and down the pilot’s striking form, "I don’t think a disguise would’ve done the trick."

"Nah," Kate chuckled, getting her drift. "I would’ve just barged in there and dared ‘em to throw me out!"

"Some dare," Becky said, for she remembered well the formidable will of iron that was Catherine Phillips, when confronted with adversity.

Moving westward through the city, they stopped to peek inside the great amphitheater, looking for all the world as though it could host a production this very day on its small stage, with patrons filling the semi-circle of steep, stone bleachers rising up in front of it.

Finally, Kate and Becky stopped at the Marine Gate. One of three principal gates to the ancient town, this particular one once was positioned next to the harbor and warehouses. Now, it stood more than a mile from a sea that eluded its grasp over a grassy, ancient tidal basin.

"What a difference a couple of millennia make, eh?" Kate casually reached out an arm, offering a quick squeeze and release of Becky’s shoulder.

"Yeah," Becky softly agreed, lifting her head into the light, warm breeze that carried on it the salty tang of the ocean.

"Well," Kate said, rousing herself, "Hungry?"

"What do you think?" Becky turned a twinkling green eye up to Kate, holding a hand to against her stomach. "Can’t you hear it?"

"I should have known," Kate grinned, motioning towards a grove of pines to the north. "Why don’t we take a walk up there? Find a place to spread out?"

"Sounds like a plan!" Becky swiped the blanket from Kate. "Let me carry this."

"No way," Kate insisted. "You’re—"

"Kaaate…." Rebecca issued a stern warning with the tone of her voice. "Heel. I can carry this. I’m fine."

Kate fought down her better instinct, and let the flight attendant have her way. That, and the fact that she had no desire to subject herself to another of little blonde’s right hooks. "Okay," she held her hand up in surrender. She dutifully followed Becky across the meadow, up into the wooded groves of evergreens and sycamores that rose up out of the sloping, grass-covered ancient dunes.

Deeper and deeper Becky pressed into the forest, dissatisfied with every potential picnicking site that the pilot suggested.

Finally, Kate had had enough. "Are we in Switzerland yet?"

"Hey – it was your idea to have a picnic!" Becky retorted. "I just want to find a spot that—oh, wow!" she gasped. At that moment, the forest fell away to reveal a grassy, open clearing, completely encircled by the woods as if to form nature’s own al-fresco dining room. Several large rocks dotted the ground, and a fair-sized stream meandered lazily along the edge of glade, making its timeless, inexorable journey towards the sea.

Becky looked up at Kate and smiled. "We’re here."

The women threw open the blanket next to a large rock under the speckled shade of an umbrella pine. Easing themselves down onto the ground, they quickly tucked into the Signora’s picnic basket.

"Now," Becky’s stomach growled in delight, "Let’s see what Signora Canova packed for me!"

"Tell me, were you always the teacher’s pet?" Kate handed Becky a small glass and began to uncork a bottle of Dolcetto, a red wine from Piedmont, Italy’s premier wine producing region.

"Yep!" Becky smirked, watching the deep purple-colored liquid sparkle and shimmer as it filled her glass, absorbing the rays of sunlight like a prism.

"Well, here’s to you, Champ," Kate laughed, clicking her glass against Becky’s, "because it got us this nice spread. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Becky took a sip of the wine, admiring its soft, fruity taste. "Mmmm. Nice. Now, what else ya got in there?" She reached an arm across the pilot’s midriff, and grabbed for a loaf of thick-crusted Italian bread.

"Hey, leave some for me!" Kate playfully slapped at Becky’s hand, and proceeded to liberate the contents of the basket. Melon, grapes, and strawberries, two kinds of cheeses, cold breaded veal patties wrapped in wax paper, a bottle of Pelligrino water, and a slab of iced orange sponge cake.

Becky was stunned. "Wait until I see the Signora!" she proclaimed, holding up a little silver fork and linen napkin. "This is amazing!"

"No wonder the basket was so heavy!" Kate leaned back against the rock and kicked her long legs out in front of her. "But I’m sure," she eyed Becky digging into the cheese and bread, "we won’t have that problem on the way back."

The women ate their fill and then some, talking little, enjoying instead the serenade of the woodland: the breathing whisper of the wind through the trees, the chattering of the crickets, the calling of the songbirds. It was all around them, seeping unbidden into their bodies, the soft, throbbing hum of the forest. Its life-force.

"I’m stuffed," Becky sighed at last, placing a vine plucked clean of grapes onto her plate. "How about a break before desert?" she suggested, squirming her way next to the pilot.

Kate did not protest. "Sure." She put down her wine glass and dropped her arm around Becky’s shoulders, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. "We have time."

The dark-haired woman breathed in deeply. She let her eyes lazily wander past the pair of shapely legs revealed by Becky’s khaki shorts, down towards a pair of yellow and white butterflies, playing and fluttering against one another just past her companion’s naked feet.

"This is nice," Becky said softly, her senses pinging at the nearness of the pilot.

"Mnnn," Kate agreed, wondering how it could be that the blonde mop of hair nestled in the crook of her shoulder carried on it the scent of pine needles and honeysuckle.

"Hey, look!" Becky’s voice was a hoarse whisper, as she pointed towards an aged sycamore standing about 20 yards away. A small, robin-sized bird, painted with the colors of the rainbow, was busily pecking away at a hollow in the trunk of the tree. "I wonder if she’s making a nest?"

"He is probably looking for something good to eat!" Kate said archly.

"Oh, where’s your sense of romance!" Becky grumbled, giving her companion a gentle poke in the ribs.

Two could play at this game, the pilot resolved. "I got you on this picnic, didn’t I?" And she gave the top of the golden head a quick kiss.

Becky pushed herself up with her hands, and swiveled so she could look the pilot in the eye. "Yeah, you did," she smiled a little, and turned slightly as the rainbow bird took off. "Look, there she goes."

"He," Kate corrected, teasing the young blonde.

"I wonder where it’s going," Becky countered, watching the flash of color as the bird disappeared into the wood. "Where it’s been… if it’s looking for a mate—"

"Or found one!" Kate’s blue eyes twinkled.

"If it is new to this…" Becky continued, waving a hand around the clearing, "…place, or has been nesting here for years? Does it have any family? What will the future hold for it?"

"Geeze, Hanson!" Kate levered herself higher against the rock, struggling to keep her voice light. She was afraid she knew where this conversation was going. "Firing off all those brain cells over some bird?"

"Kate," green eyes locked onto blue in a level, unflinching gaze. "I want to know all there is to know about you. Everything. I don’t want you to hold anything back. What is a part of you, is a part of me."

"Okaaay," Kate ran a hand uncomfortably through her hair, "I had a feeling we weren’t just bird-watching."

"Catherine Phillips," Becky’s eyes grew dark and stormy, "You know damn right well what I’m talking about!"

"I do… I do!" Kate soothed, pulling Becky back in close to her, stroking her hair, "It’s just… you know it won’t come pouring out at once, Rebecca! And I feel the same way about you, too, you know! I want to know it all. Good, bad, and indifferent."

"Yeah," Becky said, "but one of us is more quiet than Mount Rushmore, and one of us, well, there are times I feel as though I’m prattling my head off about stuff that nobody cares about, and I wish I could stop myself but I can’t… because when it’s too quiet I get real nervous and that only makes me want to talk more, just to fill the silence—" she paused to take in a heaving breath, "Like now, for instance." Becky released a frustrated, choking laugh.

"I don’t mind that," Kate said softly, giving the smaller woman a squeeze. "Your voice is like… music to my soul."

Becky twisted again to look up at Kate, blinking. "Really?"

"Really," Kate assured her. And then, to prove she meant it, added, "Go on!"

"Okay," Becky bit her lower lip, hesitant. "Kate," she gently inquired, "tell me about your brother. The one who died."

Shit! An icy thunderbolt shot through Catherine, and she felt her stomach suddenly twist into a hot poker of a knot. It was a sensation she knew well. She felt it every time she allowed herself to think back about her fair-haired little brother. About what had happened to him… how he died. More and more it was his tragic end that had seemed to dominate her thoughts, thoroughly overshadowing the good times they’d shared, and Kate was powerless to stop it… allowed herself to be carried along on that shield of suffering.

Perhaps it was because when he was killed, she’d lost that final thread of a link to what anyone might consider a home or family. With no one but herself to blame.

Funny thing, though. As Rebecca continued to study her, reaching out a hand and placing it on Kate’s own, she felt that… pain, that hurt, start to recede a bit. Strange. Very strange.

"You mean Brendan."

"Was that his name?"

"Yeah," Kate sighed, pushing tired, tense air out of her lungs. She was not unhappy to let it go. Perhaps it had overstayed its welcome. "Brendan Thomas Phillips," she said, in a voice struggling to maintain its composure. "He was my little brother. And I loved him."

**********

It poured out of Catherine, all of it, in a raging torrent, unleashed. How they’d been best friends as children, competitive siblings at adolescence, and the pride she’d felt when he’d decided as a young man to follow her into the Air Force. How even though he didn’t make it into the Academy as she had, he still kept at it; attending college as Air Force ROTC, moving through the ranks on his own.

All her life, it had seemed to be Brendan and her against the world, against the hurt of their father’s passing and their mother’s indifference, against the stoic coldness of their older brother, Peter. So much like their mother. And how they loved to poke fun at the stuffy Air Force hierarchy! They themselves would never be that way, of course, once they received their stars!

And then – just like that – he was gone. Killed, in the crash of an experimental version of the F-16. Pilot error, the Air Force had called it.

In a freaking experimental craft? No. No way. Brendan was too good for that. He hadn’t gotten disoriented and dizzy, the result of jamming the throttle forward into full afterburner one time too many. Confused, he hadn't accidentally rolled his plane into an inverted spin, drilling into the ground outside Edwards like a 12-ton pile driver. If only that joke of a hearing panel had let her see all the paperwork… she knew there was more to the story. There had to be!

But all her protests, all her efforts to get to the bottom of it all, had met with a stony wall of silence. She’d owed it to Brendan to uncover the truth… owed it to herself, as if that would have alleviated even a single ounce of the guilt she felt for ever having urged him to pursue his dream in the first place. A dream that got him dead.

"It’s not your fault, you know," Becky said fiercely, pushing dark hair from the pilot’s slightly lowered face.

Kate raised watery, reddened eyes to her young friend. "I know it, but I don’t feel it," she cried, striking a fist into her belly. "Not in here!"

"He made his choices, Kate, just as you did. What if it had been the other way around? What if you’d gotten the test pilot’s assignment? What then?"

"That’s different—"

"Not really," Becky’s voice was stern. "What if it had been you? If you’d been the one who died?" A shiver snaked through the flight attendant at that awful thought "Would you want Brendan to go sleepwalking though life, choking on the responsibility… on the guilt… that he’d gotten you killed?"

"No!" Kate nearly shouted. "That would be ridiculous!"

"Why?" Becky demanded, "Why would it?"

"Because!" The pilot felt her body stiffening under Rebecca’s cross-examination. Damn it, why didn’t the girl back off?

"Tell me, Kate," Becky lifted her hand to turn the older woman’s face towards her. "Why?"

"Because!" And then the tears began to flow. "Because… it would’ve been my choice. Mine. Not his."

"That’s right… that’s right," Becky leaned into the pilot now, pulling her trembling body close. "He made his choice, Kate. And you did too. We all do. How about giving him a little credit for that, huh?"

If there was one thing Catherine Phillips had learned over the past few days, it was to listen when Rebecca Hanson was talking. Because she’d found out more often than not, that the determined young woman usually made sense. Most of the time, anyway.

And now, after having talked about events… feelings, that were still so raw within her, the pilot discovered that there might be a chance, however slim, that the wound might begin heal. She would always bear the scar, she owed that to Brendan’s memory, but life, for her, could go on. In Rebecca Hanson, she’d found the reason. Even now, the woman’s soothing voice calmed her… offered a gentle touch held her demons at bay.

"You know," Kate said, her voice a near whisper, "when I got on that plane in New York, I was quitting. I’d sent a resignation letter off to Cyrus and everything."

Kate felt the younger woman tense in her arms, and then pull away. "What?" Green eyes flew open in wonder, gazing up at the pilot. "Everything you did on that plane… how you risked your life… and you were quitting?"

"Yeah. It just didn’t seem to matter any more. None of it."

"You… you…." Becky groped for the right words, fearing what she might hear.

A hint of a smile played at Catherine’s lips. "I told Cyrus I’d made a mistake," she explained, "back when you were still in the hospital."

"Wow," Becky shook her head, trying to process it all. "What changed your mind?"

The pilot answered without hesitation. "You." What the hell. After all, it was true wasn’t it?

Becky remained silent for a moment, absorbing the gravity of what she’d just heard. And then, without a word, she leaned in and brushed her lips delicately against the pilot’s own, pleased at the slight tremor she felt run through them at the contact.

She kissed Kate again, lingering this time, daring her to stop the palm she slipped inside her white button-down blouse. She was not barred, and Becky was astonished at the heat she found as she gently touched the smooth skin there.

"No… not here," Kate weakly groaned, but Rebecca already knew from the way the taller woman was responding to her caresses, that she held the upper hand.

"We haven’t seen another soul for hours, and you know it!" She peppered kisses down Kate’s neck, delighting at how the pilot arched her chin upwards, tacitly granting unobstructed access to the soft, tanned flesh of her throat.

"Sure?" Kate’s voice was hoarse as she silently answered her own question, shifting away from the rock and lying back on the blanket, taking Becky with her.

The blonde flight attendant levered herself up on one arm, temporarily blocking the sun from the pilot’s view. "Captain," she intoned in a low, sultry voice, "I’m going to show you just what you decided to stay for!"

And with that, she began a merciless assault on Catherine Phillips, using skills that were untested and new, but expertly guided by the want, the desire, the love that burned within her. She could sense Kate holding back at first, hesitant, fussing when she reached for her blouse… the snap of her jeans.

But Becky was relentless in her mission, driving her body against Kate’s, her breathing intimately in sync with the taller woman’s beneath her. Blissfully, she took in the intoxicating scent of her, insistent that the pilot allow her hands, her lips, her tongue, to roam freely as she saw fit upon Kate’s body.

To feel. To taste. To touch.

With each new kiss, with each newly discovered territory, Becky’s passion burned brighter and brighter, until finally she could see nothing but the sun, and she and Kate were in it, glowing in the heat, in the fire, burning hot. And when she heard a strangled cry, felt large fingers tightly entwine with her own, she knew that Kate had surrendered at last.

Success! Becky thought, as joy flooded through her. Tears dampened her face as she eased herself back into Kate’s welcoming arms. This first battle, she had won! Little did she realize, as a blue eye winked open at her, that the battle had barely begun.

**********

Shadows began to deepen in the glade as the sun continued its march across the sky. There were several hours of daylight remaining, but the golden orb had passed its apex and now reached its slanted fingers through the trees and onto the blanket where Kate and Becky lay.

"Phew," Kate gasped, falling back onto the blanket, perspiring heavily. Still, she kept one heated hand on Becky’s firm stomach. "Did we make up yet?"

"I don’t know," Becky struggled for air herself, as rivulets of sweat coursed down her body. "I think I’m still a little mad--"

"Youuuu!" With a deep-throated growl, Kate rolled over and pinned Becky to the blanket, silencing her with a searing kiss.

"Okay… okay…" Becky shrieked when at last the pilot released her, "We’ve made up! Any more of this ‘staying mad’ is gonna kill me!"

"Yeah!" Smoky blue eyes bored into green. "But what a way to go!" With a devilish grin, Kate slapped Becky lightly on the hip. "C’mon. Let’s go." And she was off.

"Kate, wha—" Words suddenly failed the flight attendant at the stunning sight of Kate’s lithe, naked form, moving confidently across the clearing. Suddenly, she disappeared from view, followed by a great splash.

She didn’t, Becky thought to herself. She wouldn’t!

And then, a dark, water-slickened head and shoulders rose up from the bank of the stream. "C’mon in!" Gleaming white teeth flashed in a smile. "Water’s fine!"

"No! No way!" Becky retorted, even as she felt herself rising and moving towards Kate, returning her smile with a broad, silly one of her own. The pilot was crazy! Okay, so she felt hot and sweaty, but she would have none of this cavorting naked in a strange stream with this wild woman! Not her! No sir!

Splash!

Later, they’d dried off nibbling on the orange sponge cake and on each other, taking sips of the Pelligrino water in-between. Kate had pulled the blanket back out of the afternoon sun that had invaded their shade and, after they’d slipped back into their clothes, the pilot did not protest when the smaller woman slid up against her and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Just… a few minutes…." Becky had mumbled, and Kate was more than content to let her sleep. To dream.

Now, she watched the sun dip lower towards the tips of the trees lining the western side of the glade. She would let Becky rest for a few moments, but then, she thought reluctantly, they would have to leave this place.

In the peaceful hum of the forest, with the stream softly gurgling in the distance and Rebecca by her side, Catherine found herself marveling once again at how comfortable, how familiar the young woman seemed to her. There was such an element of certainty… of destiny about it all, standing in such stark contrast to the pure, rotten luck that had thrown them together in the first place.

Maybe it was because they lay under a sky that had watched the ancients come and go, and upon ground that still echoed with the footsteps of those who had gone before - people who had lived, loved, and died here. In the stillness, in-between breaths, Kate swore she could feel those spirits around her now. If she closed her eyes, she’d bet she could even hear them… see them, rising up from the darkened shadows of the forest….

Kate’s eyes ripped open, and she jolted to a sitting position. How long had she been asleep? Not long, she judged, checking out the sun’s position. Breathing hard, she swung her eyes down to Becky. In spite of the sudden movement, the girl continued to snooze happily away.

That Hanson, Kate smiled, she’s better than an alarm clock!

"Hey!" The pilot carefully shook Becky’s shoulder, just as another ungodly snore caused a flock of sparrows to take off from the trees to their left.

"Hrrmpf…"

"Let’s go, Champ," Kate chuckled, "Before we get stuck here!"

"And that would be bad because… why?" Becky gazed fuzzily at the pilot from beneath the crook of an arm she’d flung across her forehead.

"I can see I’ll have to persuade you," Kate replied, eyes flashing. She dropped her lips to Rebecca’s own, pressing her case. She intended to take as long as necessary to make the young flight attendant understand. For here, in this forgotten glade within an ancient Roman forest, time had no meaning.

*********

It was a race between the Vespa and the setting sun during the entire return trip along the Via del Mare to Rome. Catherine was determined to get herself and Rebecca back to the Ausonia while there was still daylight left, not having any great desire to test the little scooter against local drivers on a high-speed autostrada after dark. Fortunately, more of the traffic at this hour seemed to be heading the opposite way, leaving Rome.

They would make it just in time, Kate thought, as the Eternal City loomed in front of her, its sun-bleached buildings bathed in the rust and copper tones of the dying sun. She hadn’t intended to stay out this late, had never planned to allow herself to get so… distracted. But now, feeling Rebecca’s arms cinched around her waist, the slight pressure against her back as the tired girl leaned into her, the pilot did not regret a bit of it.

In fact, quite the contrary. Catherine Phillips had never quite had so idyllic a day as this. Spending time with someone, a lover, who she cared about so desperately, so passionately, so completely. Someone who, Kate dared to hope, felt the same way about her.

Rebecca Hanson.

Catherine sang the name in her heart. This extraordinarily giving woman who didn’t want anything in return. With Rebecca, there was no hidden agenda, no ulterior motive, no coldly animalistic, disassociated lust. The young blonde cared for her, gave herself to her, simply because she wanted to. No one, but no one, had never done that to her before. Maybe, if she were honest with herself, Kate considered, it was because she’d never let anyone get close enough to try.

But Rebecca Hanson was not just ‘anyone.’ She was a ‘someone.’ Her ‘someone.’ And something about that felt very, very right.

In no time at all, Kate had maneuvered the Vespa through the city, back up the Via del Corso, finally taking a last sweeping turn onto the Via due Macelli. There was the Ausonia just ahead. The pilot steered the bike into a small scooter space just to the right of the pensione’s front door.

"Boy am I beat!" Becky yawned, stepping slowly, unsteadily to her feet from the back of the scooter. "All that fresh air, sunshine—"

"And exercise," Kate winked, doffing her helmet.

"Sure beats the inside of a plane," the flight attendant finished, unperturbed. "But I can barely keep my eyes open."

"No problem," Kate eyed her companion carefully. The girl did look a bit flushed. Perhaps they had overdone it today. "We can just sack out early—"

"But we’re still gonna have dinner aren’t we?" Becky rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"Yeah," Kate laughed, shaking her head. "I wouldn’t think of having you miss a meal. I’d never hear the end of it. Literally." She poked the smaller woman gently in the stomach.

"Now you’re talking," Becky said, brightening at the prospect of another dining experience. "I could go for pasta tonight… or maybe some seafood…."

Becky proceeded to rattle off a litany of potential food selections, growing more awake and alert by the moment. Kate released a soft, amazed chuckle, and moved to the rear of the scooter to unstrap the basket and backpack. The girl’s appetite was ferocious! Kate shuddered at the thought of what might happen if she ever got between Rebecca Hanson and a good meal.

The dark pilot listened to Becky chatter on, while she tugged at a balky strap on the bike. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a couple, casually dressed in jeans and t-shirts, exit the front doors of the Ausonia. A small, white terrier skittered out behind them before the doors swung closed. The couple were clearly caught by surprise as the excited pup darted between their feet, causing them to stumble and nearly fall. But the little dog paid them no heed, joyfully reveling in his newfound freedom.

Without a sideways glance, the terrier promptly darted straight out into the middle of the still busy Via du Macelli.

"Oh…." Becky strangled her dining commentary to a stop. She had seen it too.

"Hey! Doggie! What are you doing?" The man stepped in front of his female companion and called after the dog.

But the terrier was caught between opposing lanes of traffic now, and seemed unsure of what to do. Hesitantly, it looked back over its shoulder towards the doors of the Ausonia, and waggled its head.

"He’s gonna get hit…." Becky’s high-pitched, worried voice.

Kate started moving towards the street.

The wild screeching of brakes and angry bleating of horns only served to confuse the dog further, and he began to pitifully whine and shake.

Just then, a flash of color flew out the doors of the pensione.

"Pepitto!"

That did it. The little pup started to trot back across the street, moving like a fish on a line towards the voice that had called him. Unfortunately, that course took him directly into the path of a speeding, swerving Alfa Romeo.

"Pepitto – NO!"

The sports coupe hurtling towards the dog was fast, but Catherine Phillips was faster. In a blur of arms, legs, and fur, Kate lunged out into the roadway, scooping the dog up one-handed.

The Alfa was nearly on top of them now, barreling out of control. It was impossible to get out of the way in time, that much was apparent. Becky’s mouth fell open in a silent scream.

Off balance as she was, Kate somehow found the leverage to plant her left foot solidly and push herself off in a violent roll towards the sidewalk. The terrified dog pawed furiously at her chest as she pulled him in, cradling him.

Kate tumbled away from the swerving car, feeling the heat of its engine in her face and tasting the burned rubber of its tires as it passed within millimeters of her.

"Kaaaate!"

The pilot rolled to a stop next to the curb and looked up to see a stricken Rebecca running towards her. Also nearly upon her was the flash of color from the Ausonia.

Signora Canova.

Wearing yet another wildly designed smock-dress that looked like a Picasso canvas gone bad.

"Pepitto! Pepitto!" she cried out, reaching for the trembling dog.

With a groan, Kate pushed herself to her feet. "This little runaway belong to you?"

"Oh… Miss Phillips… grazie! Grazie! How can I ever thank you?" She took Pepitto in her arms, letting loose a stream of Italian endearments and loving rebukes that even Kate was hard-pressed to follow.

"Don’t mention it," Kate said, brushing herself off.

"Good God, Kate, are you okay?" Becky gave the taller woman a hug and then pulled back. "You scared the heck out of me! And look at your arm!"

Kate followed Becky’s gaze to her right elbow. It was badly skinned and bleeding.

"I’m fine," Kate assured her. "Just have to clean it up a bit."

"You come inside right now, Miss Phillips, I take care of you after I put Pepitto back." She returned her attention to her dog. "You never, never to go out alone, eh?" she wagged her finger at him. "But those bad people, they open the doors in front of you and off you go like a rocket!"

"You’re okay now, Pepitto!" Becky said, reaching out and ruffling the dog’s head. The pup gave her hand a quick lick with its pink tongue.

"Bad people," the Signora repeated, nodding towards where a small crowd of onlookers had gathered. "They say they are friends of yours, Miss Hanson, but I no believe it!" And at that, the proprietress flounced back indoors.

"Uhhhh…." Followed by a nervous cough, "Surprise, you guys!"

For the first time, Kate and Rebecca took notice of just who the couple was who’d freed Pepitto onto the Via due Macelli.

Nathan Berbick and Cindy Walters, Orbis flight attendants whose most recent journey with Kate and Rebecca had been on the ill-fated flight 2240. Afterwards, they’d decided to spend a few days layover in Rome, rekindling their on-again, off again relationship.

"Well," Nathan shifted from his right foot to his left, and thrust his hands in his jeans pockets, "Who wants some dinner?"

*********

"Are you sure that shoulder’s feeling okay, hon?" Cindy Walters searched the green eyes of her friend as the rickety lift climbed to the Ausonia’s fifth floor. "You had us so worried!"

"I’m fine Cin," Becky said, stealing a quick sidelong look at her suddenly silent pilot, "Really." Once they’d entered Ausonia, Becky had amazed at how the Signora couldn’t seem to do enough for Kate, clucking over her skinned elbow with antiseptic and bandages, profusely swearing her thanks all the while. It had taken some doing for the pilot to finally extricate herself from the Signora’s grateful, effusive clutches.

"Yeah, you gave us quite a scare," Nathan said, running a hand through his closely cropped hair. "Glad to see you’re doing so good!"

"And how do you feel – ah – Captain," Cindy asked, fumbling over how to address Becky’s tall, imposing traveling companion.

"Never better." Kate gazed at the dimly lit floor indicator of the elevator, willing it towards its destination, hastening its journey. This unexpected company had thrown her off balance, and she didn’t like it one bit.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pressure on her foot.

Looking down to determine its source, she was surprised to see two green orbs glaring up at her. "Captain?"

"Oh," she smiled faintly. "Call me… Catherine. Please."

Becky arched an eyebrow at Kate, but let it pass. The lift jolted to a stop. "Wait until you see the room!" she enthused as the taller woman slid the gate open.

A quick walk down the plush, carpeted hall, and then proudly the young blonde flung open the door to their room. "Check this out!"

"Oh wow," Cindy’s voice was breathless as she swooped into the room, running her hands over the furniture and fabrics, tracing the lines of the moldings. "Incredible!!"

"Not too bad," Nathan added, clearly impressed by the sumptuous décor, the spectacular view, and the cloud-like canopy bed. "How much you paying for this?" He grabbed an apple from the fresh fruit basket and crashed down backwards across the billowing white comforter.

"100,000 lire," Becky sat down into a chair near the window, crossing a leg under herself.

"Whaaat?" Cindy’s shriek might have been heard across the Tiber. "Nathan, aren’t we paying five times that at the Hilton?"

"Yeah," Nathan took a crunching bite of apple, "but at least we don’t have to deal with a dragon lady of a hotel clerk." He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "What’s up with her?"

"Now darlin’, she wasn’t that bad," Cindy playfully slapped him on the top of his head. "Just a bit… eccentric. And you did let her doggie out."

"I did not!" Nathan protested. "You did! You saw the Captain… er… Catherine and Becky pulling in, and made a bee-line for the doors!"

"Well, you followed me quickly enough," the petite brunette reasoned.

Nathan sat up and tossed his apple core into the wastebasket near the desk. It thunked loudly as it hit bottom. "No kidding. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. The way she kept staring… nasty!"

"I think she’s sweet," Becky said, shrugging her shoulders. "She’s been wonderful to us."

"To you," came a muffled voice from the closet where Kate was stowing their backpack.

"I don’t know about that," Becky chuckled and shoved herself to her feet. "After you rescued Pepitto—"

"That mutt…." Nathan mumbled.

"Terrier –" Becky corrected, "- you certainly were the apple of her eye!"

"Speaking of apples, any more?" The lean, dark-eyed man glanced hopefully at the basket.

"Naaathan," Cindy warned in her soft, southern drawl, "you’ll spoil your appetite.

"Yeah, anyway," the young flight attendant reluctantly got up from the bed, "we thought we’d drop by and surprise you… you know, take you to dinner. First and last chance, since we’re going home on the early flight tomorrow."

"Is this a bad time?" Cindy linked her arm in Nathan’s.

Kate was just closing the closet door and turned around at that remark.

"Well…."

"No, of course not," Becky jumped in, shooting the pilot a dark, warning look. "We were just about to go get something to eat. Right, Kate?"

The pilot smiled tightly, desperately thinking good thoughts. "Riiiight."

**********

Passetto was a fairly good-sized restaurant situated on the Via Boncompagni, within easy walking distance of the Pensione Ausonia. Reluctantly, Signora Canova had given Nathan the recommendation after finally recognizing that the evil people who’d nearly gotten her Pepitto killed had to have something to eat. That, and the fact that it appeared after all they were friends of the delightful Rebecca Hanson and the brave, wonderful Catherine Phillips.

The restaurant was in an older building, and featured battered tables and a faded maroon carpet, spattered with stains. But what the establishment lacked in décor and ambiance, it made up for in the quality of its cuisine: an intriguing menu, ample portions, and the best-tasting food the pilot had ever had in Rome.

Kate noticed that the patrons seemed to be a blend of locals and tourists alike, with the wait-staff operating more quickly than the norm in other Italian eateries. Good. The sooner they were out of here and ditched Berbick and Walters, the better. Who had invited them to intrude, anyway? But they were Rebecca’s friends so… she’d try to make the best of it, she decided.

After all, without Nathan’s help, and Alan Ross’s too, for that matter, that bastard of a hijacker might’ve gotten away with it, and killed them all. But that didn’t mean that now that the traumatic event was over with, Catherine had to spend time with them. Her time was limited, she had a choice, and dammit – she wanted Rebecca all to herself.

So maybe she was being a bit childish, she thought, as the dishes came and went and the wine flowed. But better to say nothing than to say something that… well, that ‘Captain Frosty’ might say, and so she mostly kept her mouth shut and concentrated on her pork scaloppini, lavished with capers, white wine, sage and prosciutto.

Becky was having a good time, that was all that mattered, she told herself. The young blonde’s face was flushed, probably from both the excitement and the wine. Kate had spoken up only once – overriding Nathan’s wine selection and demanding that they opt for a Trentino Valpolicella, instead. It was the better wine, after all, Kate rationalized, reaching for another sip and relishing the smooth heat of it sliding down her throat. Yep. Good stuff. She poured herself another glass.

"Oh, me too!" Becky pushed her empty glass toward Kate. "Please?" she smiled, hiccuping.

"Good thing you’re not driving, Champ!" Nathan covered his glass with his hand when Kate mutely offered him more. He hadn’t liked the pilot’s choice in wine, and by God, the way ‘Frosty’ was acting tonight, he wasn’t much sure he liked her either. Not that Becky appeared to notice. What had come over her? It was as if in her eyes Phillips could do no wrong!

"You sure you’ve been okay?" Cindy pushed away her plate of antipasto, reached across the table, and gave Becky’s arm a squeeze. "I just can’t believe it. After everything that happened…."

"I feel… fantastic, if you must know," Becky said, twirling a forkful of spaghetti in lobster sauce. "These last few days have been wonderful."

"Nobody’s bothered you… you know, the press or anything?"

"Yeah," Nathan said, "They were camped out in the lobby of the Hilton for a couple of days, before they lost interest in us, I think."

"We haven’t been hassled by anybody, have we Kate?"

"Nope."

"Well, all hell is breaking loose stateside," Nathan put his arm around Cindy’s shoulders. "People want to know how this happened."

"A god-damned loser with a gun and a bomb, who tricked a few poor saps into following him, that’s how it happened."

A shocked silence fell over the table at the sudden outburst from the pilot.

"Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?" Kate took another sip from her glass, and narrowed her eyes at her companions.

"Anyway," Nathan cleared his throat, "Orbis is in really hot water now, with the security breach and all."

"So, where have y’all been sightseeing?" Cindy’s voice was high and shrill, as she desperately sought to change the subject. The last thing she wanted to see was an ugly argument break out between the captain and her Nathan. For Becky’s sake, more than anything else. The young Californian was acting as though she’d known Catherine Phillips forever, instead a little under a week.

"Oh gosh," Becky pulled closer a small plate filled with artichokes simmered in olive oil, "Rome has been wonderful!! We’ve been everywhere… done everything!"

"Like what?" Cindy pressed. She leaned into the table and plaited her fingers in front of her.

"Yeah, tell us," Nathan said, grinning at Cindy. "We didn’t get out much!"

"Nathan!" Cindy gave her boyfriend a sharp poke in the ribs. "Really!"

"Well…" Becky began, "…we went shopping, went on a walking tour… the Forum and the Colosseum were awesome!"

"Except for the mugging," Kate muttered.

"And then Kate rented a scooter—"

"What?" Cindy’s eyes flew open wide. "Those things are dangerous!"

"Not with Kate. She has a Harley you know!" Becky happily reached for her wineglass.

"Oh. How… nice," Cindy said, gulping. Proper young women in Charleston wouldn’t be caught dead on the back of a motorcycle. It figured that this Catherine Phillips would be a bit rough around the edges.

Shit!! Kate inwardly groaned, and began admiring the dead moths in a ceiling light fixture. Hanson! I need to have a conversation with you later about too much personal disclosure!

"And then we went to see the Appian Way… the Trevi Fountain… the Vatican… gosh, I’m forgetting – what else, Kate?"

"Nearly drowning in the Tiber?" Kate helpfully suggested.

"Yeah – there was this fantastic club on a river barge with music and stuff, and then… oh, I wish I could remember it all now, but – oh yes – today we went on a picnic!"

"Well, you look like you got some sun, Champ," Nathan said, playfully plucking at her nose."

"Did I ever!" Becky snorted. She opened her mouth to add to the story, but Kate cut her off before she incriminated herself further.

"Tomorrow we’re going to the Pantheon," the pilot attempted a small smile.

"Are we?" Becky squealed, "That’ll be great! And some more shopping? Can we? I still need to get something for my parents, and Eileen and her husband, and Johnny, and of course maybe some more stuff for my nieces…."

Kate swung her eyes to Nathan. "Did you get the check?"

"Not yet," he said, poking with his fork at the remnants of grilled baby lamb chops.

"Oh, don’t let’s go yet," Becky cried. "Did you see those fried, cheese-filled ravioli drizzled with honey? I want to try some."

"Waiter!" Nathan flagged down a passing cameriere and placed the order. Anything for Becky Hanson. She was a good girl, one of the nicest he’d ever flown with. Her new buddy was another matter.

"I still can’t get over your room," Cindy said, shaking her brunette head. "And the price."

"How about that bed, huh?" Becky winked. "It’s like out of a dream."

"And huge," Nathan added, "so at least you’re not on top of each other."

"Oh, you’d be surprised," Becky giggled. "It’s not as big as you’d think."

Kate closed her eyes and swore she could see bright, pulsing laser bursts shooting across her lids. For the love of God, she wondered, would dessert ever get here?

**********

Finally, Rebecca Hanson had gotten enough to eat. Or perhaps the restaurant had simply run out of food… Kate couldn’t be sure. After they paid the check, Nathan and Cindy ordered up a taxi to take them back to the Hilton.

"We can drop you off," Cindy offered. "You’re along the way!"

"No," the dark-haired woman quickly declined for the both of them, "We’re just around the corner," her voice was firm, "and the fresh air will do us good, right?" She shifted to take in Rebecca’s flushed, upturned features.

"Um… right!" Becky chirruped, happy to agree with anything her pilot suggested. "Wanna walk with us?"

Kate held her breath.

"Nah," Nathan eyed Catherine warily, "the cab’s already on its way."

"Taxi… taxi!" The maitre’d scurried over to their table and motioned towards the front door.

Kate led the way outside, only too glad to leave the stifling environment of Passetto behind.

A squat Fiat cab sat idling on the Via Boncompagni, its middle-aged, smoking driver peering at them through the window.

"Well, see you back home!" Cindy gave Becky a hug. "Take care of yourself, okay?" She searched the blonde flight attendant’s eyes. "Be careful."

"I will, Cin." A broad grin flashed across Becky’s face. "Don’t worry."

"See you soon, Champ," Nathan stepped up, circled his arm around Becky’s shoulders, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Bye, Nathan," Becky’s eyes were moist, "And thanks… for everything."

The dark, handsome young man swallowed hard. "You’re welcome, kiddo."

"Okay…" Nathan and Cindy turned towards Kate. The pilot stood stock-still with her hands firmly clasped behind her back.

"So long," Kate offered, unmoving.

"Good-bye, Cap… er… Catherine," Cindy blushed at the awkwardness of the moment.

"Yeah, see ya," Nathan said without emotion, turning away from Kate to open the door of the taxi.

A flurry of final good-byes and waves, and the tail lights of the cab disappeared into the Roman night.

Kate gently propelled Becky back in the direction of the Ausonia, falling into step beside her.

The younger woman sighed happily. "It was great to see them, wasn’t it?"

"Mmnn," Kate rumbled.

Becky studied her new lover carefully. It had not escaped her notice that the pilot had clamed up for most of the meal, save for a few stark blasts of commentary. Well, she really hadn’t known Nathan and Cindy too well… maybe that was it. Still, the two flight attendants were her friends, and she wanted them to like Catherine as much as she did. And vice versa.

Somehow, she thought, as she walked in silence next to the older woman, the evening had fallen somewhat short of that goal. Kate wasn’t angry… not exactly, she could tell that much. But as she stole a glance at the pilot’s tight, chiseled features, she knew that her demeanor had definitely changed from the open, accessible state she’d been in earlier.

Before Nathan and Cindy had arrived, Becky glumly realized.

It was late when they re-entered the Ausonia, and Becky felt the weight of her active day, the rich meal, and the wine creeping into her bones, tugging down at her eyelids.

Of course, Signora Canova was at her station behind the front desk. A sigaretta dangled from her thin lips, and she peered over the top of her pince-nez to take in the new arrivals.

"Miss Hanson! Miss Phillips!" she grabbed at the cigarette and quickly extinguished it. "How you like Passetto? Is good, eh?" A wide, welcoming smile displayed two rows of tiny, narrow teeth.

"Dinner was great, thanks!" Becky said, grinning through a yawn.

"Miss Phillips, how you feel? Your arm?" The Signora scurried out from behind the desk, reaching for Kate.

"Fine… just fine, thanks," Kate shied away. "Really."

"Okaaay," the Signora said doubtfully, planting her hands on her hips and staring up at the taller woman. "You want colazione in your room again tomorrow? I bring."

"No… no…" Kate held up her hand. "We’ll come down to eat. Thank you anyway." The last thing she wanted now was the newly friendly Signora in their room at the break of dawn.

"How’s Pepitto?" Becky asked, looking past the proprietress. There was no sign of the little white terrier.

"Oh, he fine, fine!" The Signora replied, beaming. "He back with mio marito. The little generale! He know he not allowed outside like that."

"Marito?" Becky fumbled over the word.

"Husband," Kate said, grabbing Becky by the arm and pulling her towards the elevator. "Buona notte, Signora!" she waved, forcing a smile.

"Buona notte, Signorinas!" Another flash of tiny, angled teeth, and the Signora retreated back behind the desk, reaching for a fresh sigaretta.

"Wha…." Becky’s mouth worked as the lift clanged shut and began to lurch towards the fifth floor. "Who knew she had a husband?"

"Who knew she had a dog?" Kate grinned a little; the dark cloud that had been draped over her consciousness for the past few hours had begun to dissipate.

Back in their room, both women moved about slowly, exhausted after their long day. It was all Becky could do to slip into a sleep-shirt and tumble into bed.

After a few moments, in a room lit only by the pale light from the window, she heard Kate slip into bed. Tired though she was, her breath quickened at the feel of the pilot’s long arm draping over her, pulling her close. Even now, Becky reveled in the heat of her, a delicious contrast to the coolness of the fresh sheets.

"Rebecca, did you have a nice day, today?" Kate asked, her voice soft and velvet in the darkness.

"Yes, thanks to you." Becky rolled over slightly so she could trace her hand down the curve of Catherine’s side. She gasped when she felt the smooth, warm skin she found there. "Wow."

"Does it bother you?" Blue eyes glittered at her in the moonlight.

"No," Becky chuckled, "not at all. You did warn me, you know!"

"You sure? Because I could always throw something on—"

"I absolutely forbid it!" Becky placed a warning finger over the pilot’s lips. "What makes you comfortable makes me comfortable. In more ways than one," she said, snuggling closer to the welcoming, naked form next to her.

A gentle breeze lifted the window curtains, and there was quiet for a time, save for the sound of two beating hearts. Finally, Becky could hold back no longer. She had to talk about it. For both their sakes.

"Kate," her voice was barely a whisper, "where did you go tonight?"

A long pause, and then, "I’m sorry if I—"

"No… don’t be sorry," Becky insisted, "not after giving me this wonderful day. It… it’s just that I lost you for a while. And I don’t know why."

No response from the pilot. But Rebecca could hear the catch in her breath, feel the tightening of the muscles beneath her skin.

"I know… I talked too much," Becky continued, blushing in the dark at the memory. "Probably too much wine."

"In vino veritas," Kate said, lightly brushing Becky’s blonde hair with her lips.

Becky groaned. "More Italian?"

"Nope," Kate released a low rumble of a laugh. "Latin. ‘In wine, there is truth.’"

"Oh, great. Well, I sure spouted off a lot of ‘truth’ tonight, didn’t I?" She held the heel of her palm to her forehead.

"That’s okay, Rebecca," Kate said, and she meant it. "It’s just that… this holiday… just the two of us, it won’t last forever."

"I wish it could," Becky’s voice was suddenly fierce, and her green eyes flashed like gemstones. "I don’t want it to end. I want it to last forever."

"Easy… sssh!" Kate could sense the fear in Rebecca, and tightened the hold she had on her. "I’m not letting you out of my sight! But you know what I mean. We’ll go home – and there’s a lot of… stuff, we’ll have to deal with then. I guess that’s what I was thinking about tonight. People we know, people we work with. Hell – I don’t even know where your home base is! It’s going to be plenty more complicated than just dealing with poor Nathan and Cindy."

"I know," Becky softly replied, understanding the reality of that statement, "I know. But we’ll get through it Kate, I know we will. Together."

"Together," the tall pilot whispered hoarsely, kissing Becky lightly on the cheek. "Now get some sleep."

Some moments passed, and Kate could feel Becky relaxing next to her, hear her breathing deepen. And so she was surprised to hear a slurred "LA" come from the young flight attendant.

Kate pricked up her ears. "Hanson, you say something?"

"LA," Becky repeated sleepily. "My home base."

Catherine smiled and held Rebecca near as the blonde drifted off to sleep.

Home.

Kate had never really felt like she’d had one before, not in a long time, anyway. But lying here, with Rebecca Hanson in her arms, there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be.

Yes, in the heart of the small, slumbering woman by her side, Catherine Phillips had finally found a home.

**********

0800 hours the next morning saw Kate and Rebecca quickly gulping down a cup of coffee, some juice, and a few chewy, fresh-baked rolls, before escaping the solicitous attentions of Signora Canova. They fell outside into the warm, fresh air of yet another bright Italian morning.

"Whoever did a deal with the sun gods, I thank them," Becky said, gazing up at the brilliant, cloudless, azure sky.

The women decided to spend the morning sight-seeing by foot, since the Pantheon was a reasonable walk away through Rebecca’s favorite shopping district. And so they traveled through the bustling crowds along the Via Condotti, moving onto the larger Via del Corso, finally turning towards the Piazza della Minerva.

First, they investigated the breathtaking church of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. The colossal gothic church had some beautiful, angelic frescoes by Filippo Lippi, the monk who taught Botticelli. Walking on the cool stone floor, Kate and Becky could only gaze in awe at the wondrous beauty of the monk’s handiwork.

Leaving the church, they moved across the sun-dappled piazza, past the charming sculpture of Bernini’s elephant bearing an obelisk, towards the majestic domed, brick building opposite.

The Pantheon.

"Wow," Becky said, her voice a whisper, as they passed through the great bronze entrance doors. Inside, the sphere of the dome soared upward towards the light and air that entered through its apex, an amazing feat of construction for its time.

The height of the dome was identical to that of the walls, lending a harmonious balance, a nearly religious symmetry to the diffusely lit interior. Indeed, people moved about quietly, speaking softly, admiring the marbled mosaic floor, the serene majesty of the architecture, as though they were in a church.

"This was a church, for a while, during the middle ages," Becky said, scanning the leaflet she’d grabbed at the entrance, "though construction was originally commissioned during the time of Caesar Augustus. 27 BC. Amazing. How did they ever do it?"

"It is impressive," Kate replied, feeling a chill trip through her body in the cooled air. "Tell you what. How about I get a picture of you outside the front doors, where there’s light, and we head back so you can get that shopping done?"

"Sounds like a plan," Becky said, tucking the brochure into the backpack Kate carried. She grabbed her camera from the bottom of the bag. "Let’s do it!"

It took little effort on the young blonde’s part to get the attendant at the main entrance to take a photograph of them both. More difficult, however, was the challenge of getting Kate to agree to be in it at all.

"Are you sure?" she hedged, looking away, towards the piazza.

"Get over here, you!" Becky demanded, pointing to the top step.

Meekly, the tall pilot complied.

Afterwards, working their way back up the Via del Corso, Becky led the way in and out of a dozen shops with practiced ease. She bought Italian leather wallets for her brother and father, a delicate, silk scarf patterned after a formal Victorian garden for her mother, and an exquisitely designed crystal mantel clock for her sister and her husband.

Kate simply stood back in silent amusement as Becky went on her shopping foray, picking things up, admiring them, purchasing them or moving on. Her indulgence over her nieces knew no bounds, as t-shirts, illustrated picture books, and chocolates were added to the parcels the pilot carried.

"Let’s drop some this stuff back at the room before we go to lunch, okay?" Kate struggled to get a grip on the latest shopping bag she’d managed to grab from Rebecca.

"Sure," Becky gaily replied, oblivious to Kate’s distress. "That’ll be more we can carry this afternoon!" Lunch sounded like a good idea to her. Heck, her stomach had growled simply at Kate’s mention of the word.

"Let’s make sure we get you into a luggage shop," Kate muttered darkly. "I think you’re gonna need more with all this stuff!"

"You have never seen me pack!" Becky laughed, heading back through the shopping district towards the Piazza di Spagna.

One of the businesses they passed by was ‘Merona," the boutique where they’d made so many clothing purchases their first full day. "You know," Becky sighed wistfully, "I’d love to go someplace where we could actually wear those nice outfits we each got.

"Really?" Kate’s mind skipped back to how stunning the young woman had looked in the coral colored, sleeveless dress she’d modeled.

"Yeah, don’t you think it would be fun?"

The pilot considered just how comfortable – or not - she herself might feel in the midnight back sheath Hanson had pressed her to buy. But dammit, she remembered how good the gown had felt on her when she’d tried it on, and Rebecca had seemed to like it well enough. Maybe having a reason for wearing it… for Rebecca… would make it all tolerable.

"Okay."

"What?" Becky’s green eyes popped open wide in the sunlight.

"I said ‘okay,’" Kate grinned down at her surprised companion. "We’ll do it. Tonight. I know a place in the Grand Hotel. It’s called ‘Le Restaurant.’ Real fancy-schmanzy."

"Oh, wow, Kate!" Becky grabbed at the taller woman’s arms, nearly causing her to drop the carefully balanced packages she carried. "I’ve heard about that place! Wait until I tell Cindy! It’s sooooo chic! And so expensive though, isn’t it? Our outfits will fit in perfectly there, don’t you think? And can we get a reservation on such short notice?" She paused to take in a heaving breath.

"Terribly. Of course. And just watch me, to answer all your questions," Kate replied, chuckling at Rebecca’s exuberance as the Ausonia came into view. Just in time, the pilot considered. Her arms felt as though they were about to tear off at the sockets. Not that she would ever mention that fact to Hanson. She still didn’t want her lifting or carrying anything heavy. No matter how good the young girl proclaimed she felt.

"Ah… Miss Phillips, Miss Hanson!" Signora Canova’s glasses popped off her nose as she scuttled out from behind the desk towards them. Anger was written all over her face.

"What is it, Signora?" Becky reached out a steadying hand to the older woman’s thin, bony arm.

"He bad man, bad!" she cried, wagging a finger at Kate. "He call back every half hour, all morning, looking for you! He drive me insano! He say he no stop until he talk to you! I say I don’t know where you are!" She waved her arm in frustration towards the street.

"Who?" Kate demanded sharply, not helping to calm the clearly agitated woman.

At that moment, the phone at the front desk began to ring, in a series of twin staccato bursts.

"Him again!" The Signora swore darkly at the telephone. "You no have to speak to him, Miss Phillips, if you no want to!" She put her pince-nez back on her face, meaning business. "I take care of him!" she sniffed.

"Answer the phone," Kate’s voice was tired. "I’ll talk to whoever it is." She put their bags down on an overstuffed parlor chair.

"Geez, Kate," Becky’s eyes were clouded with worry. "Do you think it’s a reporter?"

Kate ran her fingers through her dark hair. "Nah," she said, smiling faintly. "I have an idea."

"Miss Phillips!" the Signora said tightly, "Is for you!" She held the phone away from her body distastefully. "It’s heeem!" she whispered, handing Kate the receiver.

A deep breath. "Hello!"

"Katie!" A voice boomed and crackled across the miles. "How the hell are you?"

"Fine," Kate said, turning her back to where Rebecca and the Signora had begun to softly converse, "How are you, Cyrus? And how the hell did you track me down?"

"I’ll never tell!" A deep rumble of a laugh. Kate had to hold the phone away from her ear. "The point is," he finally continued, "when the hell are you getting your sorry ass back here! I need you!"

"I’m on vacation Cyrus, remember? You told me to have fun!" Her voice was petulant, like a child’s. "Well, I am!"

"Four," Kate corrected, laughing aloud at her mentor’s feigned absent-mindedness.

"Sorry Katie," he said. "Can you forgive a senile old director of flight operations?"

"Who are you kidding?" Kate was still chuckling. "Why, you’re still smarter than guys twice you age."

"I know!"

"Why you…" Cyrus growled, knowing he’d been bested. At last, he too broke down, and Catherine could hear the smile in his voice. "You sound good. Real good, Katie."

"Thanks," Kate was sincere. "I am." A brief pause and then, "What’s up Cyrus, that you’ve been pestering our Signora Canova here nearly out of her mind?"

"Oh, that one" Cyrus laughed. "I wish she’d been on my team during Desert Storm. She’s one hell of a watchdog, Katie! I couldn’t get past her!"

"She is a bit… protective," Kate replied, fingering the fresh bandage the Signora had placed on her elbow just this morning. "So, what’s up?"

"I need you back here, Katie," Cyrus began pressing his case in earnest, "and that’s no joke. All hell is breaking loose over that hijacking episode…."

"I heard."

"Point is, this thing is ready to blow. Orbis stockholders are up in arms, I’ve got the Feds crawling up my butthole like sandfleas, our passengers and people are scared… worst of all is," he hesitated, "I’m not sure what to do about it."

"What’s all this got to do with me, Cyrus? All I do is fly planes." Kate turned her head slightly to see Becky and the Signora chattering away with one another, smiling. Great.

Kate’s stomach fluttered a bit, the way it always did when something threatened to knock her off balance.

"I’ve known you too long, Cyrus Vandegrift!" Kate turned her attention back to the receiver. "Cut the bullshit, you old codger, and spit it out, will ya? This call is costing you money and me patience!"

There was nothing but stunned silence on the phone. And then, "Strategic Safety Operations. A new ad-hoc unit of Orbis Airlines specially formed to predict where and how security breaches might occur – preventing them, or containing them. To maximize passenger and equipment safety, and to form liaisons with like-minded representatives of other airlines, governmental and legal bodies, both domestically and internationally.

"Nice," Kate leaned against the Signora’s desk. "Did you stay up all night writing that? And I still don’t know what all this has to do with me."

"Isn’t it obvious?" Cyrus shouted so loudly Kate could’ve sworn he was in the next room. "I want you to run the damn thing!"

"No," Kate said quickly, shaking her head. "No way. Flying. That’s all I want to do."

"It wouldn’t be forever," Cyrus pleaded, "just until we figure out what the hell happened here in New York last week. How those assholes got on board. To prevent that… from ever happening again!"

"Nope. Forget it."

"Ad-hoc," Kate’s voice was loaded with sarcasm. "Isn’t that what we used to call ‘secret’ back in the Air Force, Cyrus?"

"You can write your own ticket Katie," he continued, non-plussed by her comments, "Pick your own staff, set your budget, get whatever resources you need… I’ll make it happen for you. We’ve got a problem out there, Katie. And it could get a helluva lot worse before it gets better. People could get hurt."

"I don’t know, Cy," Kate said, wavering. "How can I be your best choice for this? Hell, a week ago I was quitting!"

"Don’t forget, Katie, I know you. I know what you can do. And you can do this. For me. For all those people out there who need your help. And… for yourself."

"Cyrus…."

"You’re making a big mistake, Cyrus," Kate said, bowing her head, knowing that in fact she would fly back to New York and talk to the man. Because deep in her heart, she wondered whether he might be right. What if those terrorists didn’t act alone… had help? What if they were a part of something bigger, and even more dangerous? What if… the next time, a plane didn’t make it safely down?

"Come on, Katie!" Cyrus could tell he was getting close. "Fly back here. Tonight. We’ll talk."

"Okay," the pilot relented with a sigh, "We’ll talk. But I’m not promising you a God-damned thing. And I’m not coming back tonight, either!"

"Tomorrow," Kate said, her voice edged with hardness. "I’ve got plans. Or you won’t see me at all."

"Tomorrow it is, Katie!" Cyrus’ voice was cheery, now that he’d gotten his way. "See you then!" And he cut the connection before Kate had a chance to reconsider.

What the hell just happened here, the tall woman wondered, carefully lowering the receiver back into the cradle. Damn that Cyrus! But she had to admit it: the prospect of what he’d proposed sounded intriguing. Well, he had a helluva lot more explaining to do before she would even remotely consider giving him a ‘yes.’

"Kate, guess what?"

Catherine turned to see Rebecca moving towards her, smiling. God, was this beautiful young woman really hers? "What?" Kate answered, feeling an easy grin spread across her face. Rebecca seemed to have that effect on her, she considered.

"The Signora has invited us to lunch! With her husband," Becky said slowly, rolling her eyes back towards where the Signora stood expectantly, her hands clasped in front of her. "And gelato for dessert. I’d love to go. Wouldn’t you?"

Kate could tell that Rebecca was worried that she wasn’t up for such an adventurous luncheon. Hell, Hanson didn’t know the half of it!

"Sounds wonderful. Grazie, Signora, si!"

"Uh… great!" Becky looked up at her in mild wonder.

Signora Canova beamed. "This way… this way!" She hurried off towards the rear of the pensione, bidding Kate and Becky to follow her.

"Who was on the phone?" the flight attendant asked, circling her arm around the pilot’s waist as they followed the Signora towards formerly fobidden territory. "Everything okay?"

"That was Cyrus," Kate said, "Blowing smoke and rattling his sabre. I’ll tell you about it later. And yes," she added, "Everything’s okay." She dipped her dark head to softly press her lips against Rebecca’s golden hair, stealing a quick lung-full of her sweet, welcoming scent as she did so.

Her life. Her love. Her home.

"Everything is very okay."

Comments welcomed at: Belwah82@aol.com

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