A New Captain Scarlet Story for Christmas

by Caroline Smith

Part 1

She dreamt.

At the funfair, and she’s eleven yet looks twenty-seven – because that’s possible in dreams – and she’s holding their hands and Mom and Dad look so happy before he left for good and all around are the sounds of laughter and screaming and the music from carousels and the pirate ship and high above the Ferris wheel like a circle of diamonds in the sky and she shouts that she wants candy floss and Mom says it’ll rot her teeth and then the sky grows dark and the lightning flashes and fearful shrieking and everyone runs and somehow she loses Mom and Dad so she runs into the Fun House and the Mirror Maze and she’s shouting for them- MOM - but they don’t answer and then the Fun House changes – because that’s possible in dreams - into a cavernous bunker with metal walkways and pipes along the walls and everything bathed in an eerie red glow and an alarm blares and she hears a booming baleful voice and – DAD – and the blood freezes in her veins and she has to run but her legs are sludgy and the voice sounds close and her heart thumps and up the stairs she goes and up and up until there’s nowhere now but the railing and the abyss below and she turns and sees those staring green eyes and outstretched fingers reaching for her throat...

Lieutenant Green jolted awake, her heart hammering between her ribs and cold sweat dampening her sleep-tee. She rolled over onto one elbow, raising herself slightly from the bed. Training took over - one deep breath held for four seconds then slow on the exhale. She repeated that several times until she could feel her heartrate return to something resembling normal.

“Damn it,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “Lights, thirty percent.”

As the illumination rose, she peered at the desk clock: Four-fifteen. She was due on shift in several hours and knew from recent experience that she’d find falling back to sleep difficult. She sat up on the edge of the bed, her hands gripping the mattress and her head bowed.

Her mouth was dry and acrid, so she padded over to the kitchen area, and pulled out a glass from the cupboard above the sink. She flipped the tap and poured a stream of cold water into the glass and then drank slowly until she'd drained the contents in one go. She returned to bed, pulled the coverlet over and attempted sleep, but the images kept intruding. She tried to reason with herself, but try as she might, she couldn't relax, unable to find the mercy of dreamless sleep.

She must have dozed off, fitfully, as the alarm woke her, and with a suffering groan, she hauled herself off the bed, gritty-eyed. A shower and a strong coffee while she dressed helped only fractionally, and the face that stared back in the mirror as she brushed her thick hair looked drawn and brittle, just like her mood.

She took the lift to flight deck level. It was fairly quiet this far up into the base, but a couple of maintenance crew got in at deck ten. They nodded a salute, and stepped in to one side, quietly continuing their conversation while Green kept her eyes on the control panel. She felt wretched, and the one tech’s brief, curious glance as they stepped in, suggested she wasn’t hiding the fact very well.

The pair exited left when the lift stopped at the flight deck, and Green turned right, heading for another to the Control Tower. Access was strict here, level nine security level and above only. The lift sensor recognised Green’s bio-signature and the door slid open to allow her entry. The journey took her up into the huge leg of the Tower, rising above the flight deck.

When she alighted into the corridor outside Central Control, she saw Captain Ochre, in uniform, coming towards her; most likely having finished an early-morning briefing with the colonel. As the Irish-woman approached, Green could see the look of surprise bloom on her face. It was clear she wasn’t going to be as discrete as the technician.

“God in heaven, you look awful, Serena. Are you all right?”

“I'm fine, just didn't sleep very well.” Green’s response sounded phony to her own ears.

“No kidding? Maybe you should –”

“I said I was fine! Do I have to repeat myself?”

Ochre's jaw sagged, and Green’s heart raced as she strode past her, irrationally trying to get as much distance between them. She stopped short of the entrance to Central Control, and dared to glance back down the corridor, but thankfully, Ochre had disappeared into the turbo-lift. She leant the back of her head against the smooth wall and tried to get her breathing under control before going in. She deeply regretted her outburst; what on earth had possessed her to snarl at Elaine like that? She’d just snapped. Perhaps she wasn’t fit for duty today.

She breathed through her nose, out through her mouth, again and again, aiming for calm. She could do this.

As always, the nerve centre of Skybase operations was a quiet hive of activity; the giant curved transparent plasma screen took up most of the inner area and pulsed with neon lights, displaying constantly changing graphics and data. Silver sat at the centre of the screen, her fingers flicking across the array of touch-panels. She swivelled on her chair as the Green came in.

“Morning Serena, hope you had a good night.” Silver signed out of the system with a palm print, and stood up to give Green the chair.

Green kept her eyes low, pinned a smile on her face, and forced a bright note into her voice. “Anything been happening that I should know about?”

“It's been a quiet shift. The Chief engineer reported an issue with some of the lateral shielding, but it's all in hand. Earth side, nothing much to report, just the usual incidents taken care of by the local authorities.”

“So, no signs of any suspicious Mysteron activity?”

“Nothing as yet. Despite the boredom, I guess we should all be thankful for that. Maybe the Mysterons have decided to give us a break for the festive season.”

“I doubt it. They're like the Grinch, probably just waiting for the right time to spoil it for everyone.”

Silver smiled wryly. “Green meanies, right enough.” She stifled a yawn, and shook her head in apology. “Well, I have an appointment with a comfortable bed, so I'll see you later.”

“Sure, later,” Green responded, relieved at avoiding another interrogation from a colleague. She placed her own palm downward on the desk. Bio-signs were duly noted, a ping followed, and her image and details flashed briefly on the screen, while a synthetic voice announced: Lieutenant Green - access granted, transferring the powerful system to her fingertips. She barely heard Silver stride away as she busied herself with a series of diagnostics on Skybase. Not that she didn’t trust Bethany, but she needed the distraction of routine this morning, more than ever.

Captain Blue pounded on a treadmill, sweat dampening his fair hair and the regulation white tee, but he maintained a steady pace. It was a busy time at the 24/7 gym; personnel choosing to get some exercise done before breakfast, some even before a duty-shift. Someone had dangled a long 'Merry Christmas' banner across one panoramic window, just in case anyone was in any doubt of what time of year it was. He recognised a few of the staff, a junior lieutenant and a couple of engineering technicians over on the weights, but no one else from the senior staff, until Ochre sauntered in.

Several pairs of male eyes swivelled - then just as swiftly redirected back to their various labours. Blue smirked to himself. You can take the man out of the cave... although it would be a brave caveman who dared get on the wrong end of Elaine McGee's golden boot.

Ochre laid a towel down beside the treadmill to the left of Blue's and flipped him a cheery salute. Not wanting to break his stride, he flapped a hand in wordless reply. Ochre set her machine for medium level gradient, and started her session. After twenty minutes she wasn't even breaking a sweat.

“Fancy a race?” he said, with a grin.

Ochre wrinkled her nose. “You’re a cheeky bugger,” she panted back, “I'm not about to pander to your - misplaced male ego. You're as bad as Mario.”

“Scared you'll lose?”

Ochre flipped him a finger, and that got a quickly stifled snort from someone in the gym; one of the engineering techs on the weights, Blue figured.

His treadmill alarm pinged and the belt started to slow, and Blue along with it, while Ochre's kept going. Blue stepped off, sauntered across to one wall and grabbed a tumbler of iced water from a dispenser unit. He sipped it slowly and watched as Ochre jogged on.

He wandered back to retrieve his own towel, and Ochre's treadmill pinged and slowed, He rubbed the fabric through his damp hair and wrapped it around his neck. Ochre grabbed hers from the floor and wiped her neck and face.

“How’d your stake-out go last night?” Blue asked.

“Boring. I think we were given some duff information. There was absolutely no suspicious activity at that warehouse. A wasted twelve hours for me and two ground agents, if you ask me.”

“Happens sometimes, but we can’t afford to pass up a lead.”

“No, of course we can’t.”

“I’m surprised you’re even here after being up all night.”

“Well, I thought I’d stretch out all the cricks, I can sleep later.” She frowned. “That reminds me. I bumped into Serena this morning after I had my briefing with the colonel. She looked like hell, to be honest, and nearly took my head off when I asked her if everything was okay.”

Blue frowned. “That isn't like her.”

“No, she's always so damn nice, even when she has to tear a strip off someone when they've messed up, so it really felt off when she shut me down the way she did.”

“Maybe she'd just had a bad night, we all get them.”

Ochre shrugged. “I guess so. Have you talked to her recently?”

“Not for more than a minute during a briefing in Central Control three days ago. You know how crazy it's been. Three Mysteron plots almost on the tail of one another, and to cap it all, that damn episode with Paul. This is going to be one hell of a Christmas if things keep going the way they are.”

Ochre nodded. She hadn't been on Skybase when Scarlet somehow managed to render himself intangible, like a ghost, and yet miraculously he’d been able to alert Blue and Destiny to a bomb on the airbase. That had been too close. They fell silent as two technicians walked by on their way out of the gym. Some things were still a need-to-know basis on Skybase, such as Scarlet’s ability to retrometabolise.

“Well,” Ochre said, with a sudden, sly smile. “You're such a hit with the ladies, you might try talking to Serena to see what's up with her.”

“I thought that was Mario's patch, being the ladies' man.”

“He'll certainly try it on when he thinks he can get away with it, but most of it's bluster. You and Paul, on the other hand, are genuinely feted by a considerable number of young women on this base.”

Blue snorted. “That's nuts.”

“Take it from me, you don't want to know, it'll make your toes curl.”

“Right... so what makes you think I'd have better luck finding out what's wrong with Serena? I thought women liked to confide in one another.”

“Oh, sure we do, but she’s already given me the cold shoulder this morning, so she might not appreciate me sticking my nose in again. She may just have been having a bad night, but my feminine intuition is telling me it's more than that.”

“You're a good woman, McGee.”

It was her turn to snort. “Well, don't you be going and spreading that rumour around, I have a reputation to maintain. I can't have some pimple-ridden ensign or ground-agent thinking he can get away with murder because he has the impression that I'm soft.”

“My lips are sealed.”

She nodded and flipped him a salute. “Well, I'm off for a shower before I hit the sack? How about you?””

“I’m gonna do some weight training before breakfast.”

He watched her leave, feeling guilty. He had no idea that something might be bothering Green, enough to make her act out of character. He trusted Ochre's judgement implicitly, it had saved his ass on at least two occasions.

He crossed over to the weights and began a cycle of lifts and presses, his body going through the motions, leaving his mind free to wander. And as minds do, they tended to wander along paths that weren't particularly helpful. He knew he shouldn’t feel guilty; he'd barely had time to take a crap in the last few weeks, with the Mysterons throwing every trick in the book at them, but he was supposed to be her friend, he should have noticed something was up.

And there lay the problem. That whole 'friend and colleague' thing.

He couldn't pin it down to a specific moment, but it had probably all kicked off during the Mysteron bug incident; when he and Gold had stared helplessly into Green's quarters - and oh boy - did that image still remain clear and stark in his memory - her lying on the bed, trapped within a matrix of crystalline green as she fought bravely against her own mind - desperate not to divulge Skybase's critical defence systems to the Mysterons. He told himself that the gut-wrenching worry he'd felt would be the same for any of his colleagues trapped in similar circumstances.

But after that, he’d catch himself homing in on her in a roomful of people, or seeking her out in the canteen or lounge and telling himself he really wasn't indulging in a high-school crush at the venerable age of thirty-two. He didn't have to do anything rash, neither of them was going anywhere, and maybe he'd get over it and they could go back to the way things were.

He sat up from the bench press and wiped sweat from his eyes. Yeah, and things might have stayed that way, if it hadn't been for New Mexico. God, he would replay that whole near-disaster frame-by-frame in his head until he was cold in the ground. Green's father, Robert Lewis, Jupiter mission astronaut, had miraculously returned from the dead, and she’d been delirious with joy - a joy that quickly faded when he turned out to be a frigging Mysteron replicant bent on destruction of the Space Agency complex by destroying an experimental anti-matter reactor.

In the aftermath, he'd stood with her in his arms, outside the reactor’s bunker, trying to give what little solace he could - as his own feelings had erupted in disarray: relief, an animalistic desire to beat something to a pulp to defuse his anger in the face of her grief, followed by the shocking realisation that he’d almost lost her again – and that mattered, more than it should have.

He knew these feelings were risky, exactly the sort of thing that the fraternization rules were designed to avoid - they could lead to favouritism and conflicts of interest, resulting in bad decision making – a particular danger in a military setting. And he ought to know those reasons better than anyone, being one of the latest in a long line of Svenson military brats steeped to the eyeballs in tradition and rules.

Yeah, all that tradition sure weighed heavily on him, but he couldn't feign detachment when he knew something was spooking Green big time. Rules be damned.

The crew roster showed him that Green was still on duty in Central Control, and there was no reason, except a summons from White, for him to go there. So, he showered and changed into his uniform, and ambled to the canteen for breakfast. Some folks had been busy, colourful lengths of garland had been taped and draped over the walls, and some hopeful soul – most likely Mario, had taken it upon themselves to hang a large piece of mistletoe from a light fixture above the hot drink dispenser. He wasn't sure what the colonel would make of it, but he usually took most of his meals in his own quarters, so chances were the culprit would get away with it.

Scarlet, Destiny and Harmony were already having breakfast, sharing the four-seater table next to the giant fir tree - a twinkling, bauble-bedecked green finger to the Mysterons and their frigging mind games. They could at least pretend that life could go on as normal, couldn't they?

Blue grabbed some waffles and berries from the serving station and got himself a large mug of coffee from the dispenser, and went to join them.

“Room for one more?” he asked.

“Sure thing,” Harmony replied, and Scarlet nodded, as he was halfway through chewing a mouthful of cereal.

Blue sat down and poured a liberal stream of syrup over his waffles.

“Ya think you've got enough there?” Harmony said in her lazy drawl.

“When it comes to syrup, you can never have enough. Anyway, you're one to talk, you’ve got a worse sweet tooth than me.”

“Yep, that's true,” she admitted, saluting him with her coffee mug.

“How you feeling this morning, Paul?” he said.

Scarlet finished swallowing. “Pretty good, thanks. Gold called me in early to discuss those tests he ran on me a few days ago.”

“Oh, yeah?” Blue lowered his voice. “Has he figured out how you managed to turn into a ghost?”

“Not yet,” Scarlet's voice was equally reserved, “But if I know him, he won't give up.””

“No, he certainly won't, no matter how intrusive it is,” Destiny chimed in, her tone caustic. She slipped one arm through Scarlet's, in an almost proprietorial gesture, and given that there was already zero distance between their bodies on the bench, Blue imagined the look on White's face if he'd chosen this precise moment to wander into the canteen.

Conrad Lefkon - rot his soul - and Simone Giraudoux had been pretty obvious about their relationship before the former's untimely demise, and now, the Falcon Squadron Leader seemed to be making a play for Paul, who, he thought ruefully, didn't seem to be putting up much of a fight to stop her. She was attractive as blazes, and single-minded to boot, so he figured Scarlet didn't stand much of a chance.

But as he saw the affectionate look pass between them, he felt briefly ashamed of his misgivings about her intentions towards the man who'd quickly become his best buddy in Spectrum. Destiny really had been shaken up by Paul's disappearance when he'd become intangible and there was definitely more going on between them than the urge to blow off some sexual steam. He was also aware that he was in no position to judge people on their illicit relationships.

Green stifled a yawn. She figured that was her third in the last five minutes. The lack of sleep was finally catching up with her, and she was beginning to worry that she might not make through to the end of her shift. It hadn’t helped that it had been a real slow morning. After all, how many diagnostic checks could she run?

“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”

She jumped at the sound of the colonel's voice, realised she had lost track of - well everything. God, she'd actually dozed off, and White had wandered out of his office to stand next to her. She snapped to attention in her chair, a fierce heat warming her cheeks, staring fixedly at her transparent screen, willing an emergency - anything to deflect her commanding officer's justifiable ire. Dereliction of duty carried penalties, no excuses.

“This would be a first time, in all the time I've known you, Lieutenant, so I would have to conclude that you have either been burning the candle at both ends, or you are feeling unwell.”

“No candles involved, sir, and I'm not ill.”

A pregnant pause ensued, in which White evidently expected her to provide further explanation. She swallowed hard. There was little point in lying, he knew her too well for that. “Actually, that’s not strictly true, sir; I haven't been sleeping well recently.”

White's eyes narrowed faintly. There was another silence, as if he was deliberating on his next question. Green saved him the bother.

“I'm really sorry, sir, I should have gone straight to the Medical Centre, I really had no idea a few sleepless nights would hit me so hard. It won't happen again, I promise.”

“I wouldn’t make promises you may not be able to keep. I know your dedication to duty, Lieutenant, so much so, that you chose to work when you ought to have taking time off to recoup.”

She was pretty damn sure she knew what he was alluding to - her insistence to get right back to work after the New Mexico incident. “Sir,” she began to protest, “I've never asked for special treatment.”.

“And I don't believe I've ever given you any. You are here on merit, like everyone else on this base. However, I am concerned when I see indications that you are not one hundred percent fit for duty. I suggest you contact Lieutenant Amber and ask him to take over for the remainder of your shift, so that you can arrange for that appointment with the Medical Centre.”

“Right now? But, sir, I can -”

One stately eyebrow lifted. “Let me make it an order, then, rather than a suggestion to be relieved of duty.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, mortified at even thinking of countermanding his request - what was up with her?

She buzzed Amber, who responded that he'd arrive at Command Control in ten minutes. The phlegmatic Indian didn't ask for reasons, and for that she was grateful; she was pretty sure Bethany would have - out of concern, naturally.

Right on cue, Amber arrived and they exchanged the usual shift-change protocols before she left. White was back behind his desk in his partitioned office, but as she passed, he raised his head from the monitor and nodded at her with a hint of a smile. She felt a fraction better.

It must have been a slow day, because the duty Med-Tech informed her that Dr. Gold could see her right away.

Thankfully, reception was empty, apart from the young man at the desk. She was checked in and directed to Gold's consulting room, just off his main office area. It was designed to be a calm space, to allow the patient to feel at ease. Green didn't feel at ease; she hated coming to the Medical Centre, it reminded her of the one physical weakness that dogged her, despite everything she'd achieved in her career to dispel the disappointment that it had once caused. She waited in the chair outside, staring at the door with its illuminated sign in red. Please Wait. She felt her stomach knot up and smoothed her hands down the sides of her uniform pants.

What seemed like forever, but was actually only five minutes later, she saw the sign change to a green Please Enter. She rose, the door slid open at her approach and Gold waved her to a seat in front of his desk.

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” he asked in his heavily accented English. “I understand the appointment was quite urgent.”

“The colonel practically ordered me along to see you.” She felt her face warm again. “I fell asleep at my post in Command Control.”

Gold blinked once behind his spectacles. “I see.”

“I thought you could maybe prescribe some medication,” she said, a little too quickly. “To help me sleep?”

Gold steepled his fingers together, his gaze shrewd. “I am not in the habit of handing out pills before I understand exactly what is wrong with my patient. Can you be a little more precise as to why you are not sleeping?”

She took a long breath. “I've been having nightmares, about the Mysteron who masqueraded as my father. I know they're only dreams, but they're so vivid, it's like I'm back there in that bunker in New Mexico.”

“How long has this been going on? “

“A few weeks. When I fall asleep, the bits I can remember start fairly innocuous - illogical situations, like most dreams, but somehow, they always end with him appearing, chasing me and trying to kill me - although I always wake up before that happens.”

“How do you feel otherwise?”

“I've felt on edge, anxious even. I thought it was probably due to lack of sleep. Today was the worst, snapping at Captain Ochre this morning for no good reason, and dozing off at work.”

“That was most unfortunate,” Gold said, “But not career-ending. I'm going to run some tests on your hormone levels for confirmation, but it's possible you may be suffering some delayed traumatic stress following your mission in New Mexico.”

Green's shoulders slumped slightly. For some time now she'd begun to suspect something was off, yet hearing it stated in words made her feel worse.

“Why now?” she asked.

Gold spread his hands. “The human mind is a complex creature; not everyone reacts in the same manner to a traumatic ordeal, and yours was especially tragic; to see your father again –”

Green felt her body tense in the chair. “That – thing, was not my dad.”

“No, of course not,” Gold pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “But at the beginning, he was an element of hope that was wrenched away from you under unfortunate circumstances. I read the mission report, Lieutenant; you had to deal with not one, but several terrifying experiences that day.”

She nodded mutely.

“I know security protocols made it impossible to discuss any details of the mission with your family,” Gold said in a gentler tone, “but have you ever talked to any of your colleagues on Skybase about it?”

She thought about that before answering. Sure, Adam had tried to get her to talk right away, but it had been too painful, too personal and complicated by her feelings towards him. Her self-image was of a strong confident woman, not some helpless damsel in distress. She hadn't been prepared to show one iota of weakness in front of him.

“PTSD sometimes develops,” Gold's voice intruded into her thoughts, “because the traumatic experience was so distressing that the individual refuses to have any reminder of it. Their brain doesn't process the experience into a memory so it remains a current problem instead of becoming a memory of a past event. Can you remember anything about how you felt during the days following the mission?”

A slight frown appeared between Green's brows as she tried to recall, her body tensing further; she'd done everything in her power to achieve the exact opposite. Gold watched her as she struggled to speak, and this time, chose to wait for her answer.

“Honestly, I think I was probably still in shock,” she finally said. “But I do remember my desperation to keep going, to soldier on. I thought if I didn't get straight back to work, I might never be able to do it.” She clasped her hands together and exhaled slowly. “I didn't want everyone to think I was soft or weak. I thought if I pushed it all away, pretended that none of it ever happened, it would just fade, like a bad nightmare.” She looked up at him with a bleak expression. “That worked out well, didn't it?”

“Please don't be so harsh on yourself, Lieutenant.” Gold removed his spectacles, pinched the bridge of his nose and replaced them. “Perhaps I'm also at fault, for not ordering you to take compassionate leave following the mission.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, it was my decision, and the last thing I wanted was to be treated differently because I was a woman. Somehow, I doubt you would have told Blue or Scarlet to take some time off in the same situation.”

Gold's lips pursed briefly. “I would like to think that I treat all my patients with equal consideration, regardless of their gender. That is the most important thing to consider, not some misplaced belief that you need to drive yourself into the ground to prove a point. I will not tolerate it from you any more than I will from one of your male colleagues.”

She sat back in the chair. Her second chastisement of the morning. She was on a roll all right.

Gold continued, almost thinking out aloud. “It isn't clear why some individuals exhibit symptoms of PTSD while others do not, although there is evidence to suggest that the likelihood is greater if they experienced a prior traumatic event in their lives.”

The muscles in Green's face tightened visibly. “Are you talking about my dad’s initial disappearance? I was cleared for full duty by the Spectrum psychiatrists after their evaluations – they took that into account at the time.”

“Yes, but things change. Someone can bear all manner of stressors during their life and carry on, seemingly unaffected, but occasionally, they can experience a tipping point, and then, an overwhelming emotional response can be triggered. Sometimes, the catalyst can even be an event totally unrelated to the original trauma.”

“A catalyst? Like what?”

The doctor shrugged. “I don't know, but it's why I am recommending you attend a session of talk therapy with one of our medical counsellors.” Gold slid his chair to access the computer and tapped various keys, seemingly unperturbed, and quite the opposite of Green, who’s mind churned.

“All discussions are of course completely confidential, so you may speak freely so we can understand what might have triggered this recent emotional response to the trauma of New Mexico.”

“So, we can make sure it doesn’t get worse, or happen again?”

“Indeed.”

“So, can I return to duty?” Green asked, failing to keep the irritation from her voice.

“Not quite. I'm going to sign you off for forty-eight hours, because you are obviously fatigued. I expect that you will use the time wisely to get some rest and recuperation, so I'm prescribing some medication to help you sleep, rest assured it will not affect you during the day. You can collect it from the dispensary when you leave.”

“So just something for sleeping, nothing else?”

“Current good practice is to take a wait and see approach, in combination with exercises for anxiety reduction and behavioural cognitive techniques. I believe your symptoms to be relatively mild so I see no reason why you should not be back to your normal self very soon.”

Green nodded and Gold further tapped on his touchpad, whilst peering at the terminal. “I've brought up the logs, and I see you are entitled to some block leave over Christmas. Do you plan to spend it with family?”

“I – um – hadn't really thought about it.”

“Perhaps you should. You are something of a workaholic, Lieutenant, and I would know, since I am prone to the same failing on occasion. As your physician, however, I recommend that you have a complete change of scene from Skybase, so that you can help the healing process along. I understand your mother lives in Trinidad?”

“Yes.” Her bottom shifted uncomfortably on the chair.” Is this an order, Doctor?”

He regarded her with a speculative expression. “I wouldn't have considered it as such. Is everything well between your family?”

“Yes, I mean... it's complicated.”

He pushed his glasses up again. “I appreciate how difficult it must have been to keep silent about what happened in New Mexico, being unable to discuss it from your family.”

“You have no idea,” she murmured.

“I apologise for being intrusive, but I sense your discomfort. Might this - complication, have any bearing on your current situation?”

A knot tightened in her gut. “Do I have to talk about it right now?”

“Of course not, but remember what I said, it's important to discuss unresolved emotions and tensions associated with the trauma with someone.” Gold put particular stress on the last word, then added, “Preferably a professional.”

She exhaled quietly in defeat. There was nothing to be gained by refusing. She just didn’t want to trawl around and stir up old memories that were better left to rest.

“Sure, go ahead.”

Green trudged down to the accommodation deck to her quarters. She clasped the medication bottle in one hand, still trying to hide the signs of her fatigue from those around her; a bit late now after snapping at Ochre and talking to Gold. Once inside her quarters, usually such a welcome haven, she felt suddenly claustrophobic, the comfortable bed no longer a cocoon, but a harbinger of nightmare. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, almost feeling the walls closing in upon her, swallowing down an unusual rising panic. She began to breathe again in for four, hold for six, out for seven. After a few cycles, she felt slightly better. Maybe she could get through this after all.

Halfway through shucking her tunic and boots, her personal desk communicator trilled. She noted it was on a private channel and accepted the call.

“Hi Serena, it's Adam. I just called to see if you are okay?”

Green's pulse quickened - as always - when she heard that particular voice. She ordered her body to behave but her unconscious reflexes regarding Blue were as inefficient as those regarding her nocturnal dreams.

“If it's a bad time...” he added during the pause.

“No, no, it's good to hear from you, but why shouldn't I be okay?”

“Uh, Ochre; she told me you side-lined her this morning. We both agreed it's out of character.”

“So, you got the short straw to ask me why I was rude to her?”

“Kind of, she had this dumb idea you might talk to me, imagine that, huh?”

“Yeah, imagine that.” Green felt a smile threaten to break out; just hearing his voice over a link made her feel better. That was a good thing - and maybe a bad thing too. Decent, uncomplicated Adam. She ought to be fuming with Elaine for gossiping, but instead felt only a curious sort of gratitude.

Try discussing that with the counsellor.

“You want to go for some chow and tell me all about it?” Blue said. “The canteen should be quiet just now, before shift changeover.”

She glanced around, taking in her reflection in the mirror. She looked like crap, and she didn’t feel much like food, but those things were completely overridden by the thought of a couple of hours in Adam’s company.

“Just the two of us?”

“I didn’t think you'd want everybody listening in to whatever's bothering you.”

She relaxed her shoulders. “You're right. I don’t, and I appreciate that you considered it.”

“So, the offer still stands, but you'd better not be late, you know there's always a run-on taco Tuesdays.”

“Oh, I'd hate you to miss your tacos. I'll see you around seventeen hundred hours.”

She'd have time for a shower and maybe get rid of some of the bags under her eyes.

Blue entered the empty canteen, and found Green already sitting at one of the tables, close to the flickering tree, staring out of the wide panoramic windows. As he approached, he felt a jolt at her appearance; her face looked drawn and tight, and there was a tired slump to her shoulders. How had he managed to miss any of this?

“Hey there,” he said softly, so as not to startle her. She seemed faraway in thought.

She turned and gave him a wan smile. “Hey yourself.”

“No chow for you yet?”

“I thought I'd wait till you got here.”

“Well, stay put and I'll get enough for both of us.”

Blue headed across to the central serving area, and began to stack a tray with plates of newly-made beef and shredded pork tacos, with sides of guacamole and refried beans, and carefully brought the loaded tray back to their table.

“Are you sure you haven't invited the entire Falcon squadron to join us?” Green said.

Blue grinned as he unloaded the dishes onto the table. “This lot's just for me... Just kidding, but I might still have to go back for seconds.”

She laughed then, and he felt more at ease. It was like the usual banter, easy and familiar, the way they'd been - before. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

“So, you want to tell me why you acted like an angry momma bear this morning?”

Green copied his action, then stared at the messy remains of the taco on her plate for a full six seconds, as if gathering some inner strength.

God, something had really rattled her and for the umpteenth time he cursed himself for not paying more attention in class.

“Well, if you can promise you'll keep what I tell you between us,” she said finally.

“Hey, it's me.” He tapped two fingers on his chest armour.

One of her dark brows raised. “Oh, yeah? I know how close you and Scarlet are, and it's embarrassing enough that Ochre's already gossiping about me.”

“She was concerned, and so am I.”

She nodded, leant forward and braced her chin on an upturned palm. “I've been having nightmares. They're messing with my sleep, and the colonel caught me napping this morning. He packed me off to see Gold, and he told me I might have some symptoms of post-traumatic stress about what happened in New Mexico.”

Blue felt his stomach sink. “Jeez, Serena, why didn't you say anything before? I'm supposed to be a friend, remember? I told you right after that damn shitstorm, that if you needed to talk, I'd be there for you.”

“I know you did.” Her face went back to tight and upset. “I thought I could cope, but I guess I was wrong. I'm obviously not strong enough.”

There was no one watching, apart from one cook shovelling refried beans from a huge cauldron into the serving containers - but he seemed oblivious, so Blue reached out and grasped her free hand in brief, comradely support.

“I know what you went through that day,” he said in a low but insistent voice, “the guts it must have taken to do what you did. Don't you dare say you aren't strong.”

She gave him a wan smile. “Gold thinks I should talk about it to one of the medical counsellors.”

Blue instinctively made a face, regretted the gesture in a nanosecond, but she'd spotted it, her eyes flaring. “So, you expect me to spill my secrets to you, but not to someone who might actually be qualified to help me?”

He sighed and let her hand go. Voices made him glance around, to see Melody, Rhapsody, Brown and Orange picking up trays and edging round the serving counter, followed by Lieutenants Coral and Amethyst.

He hoped they'd all find a table of their own.

“Look,” he said, “I'm sorry for acting like an ass, I’ve just never liked being psycho-analysed. But if you think it'll help, go right ahead and do it.”

She waved one hand. “It's okay, I'm just being irritable. I know you're only trying to help, and I really appreciate it.”

Rhapsody, first to leave the counter with her tray, came towards their table.

“Hi, Serena, Adam, how's things?”

“Pretty good,” Green replied, with the tiniest of glances at Blue, and he nodded at the English pilot. “Yeah, all good here,” he replied.

Rhapsody nodded. “Have fun,” she said cheerfully, and thankfully carried on to a table further down, while the two captains followed to join her to make a foursome. However, Blue's relief was short-lived when Magenta and Grey appeared in the doorway.

“It's gonna get kind of busy in here,” he said, “Not to mention loud. You want to grab a coffee in the lounge? Looks like we might have it to ourselves. Unless you have other plans?”

Green stifled a yawn, and he immediately regretted his request; it smacked of pandering to his ego by playing pretend counsellor.

“I should get some sleep,” she replied, “But it's way too early, and I've been signed off duty for forty-eight hours and I'll go mad cooped up in my room. So, it's a yes to an after-dinner drink, although I'm going to have to be sensible and skip the coffee for some green tea.”

Blue grimaced. “I'll stick with gut-rot. I can't stand the taste of that stuff Symphony drinks, and it has zero caffeine - what's the point of that?”

They met Ochre as they walked along the corridor, and Blue could almost feel the tension rise up in Green.

“Elaine,” Green began, but the Irish woman clapped one hand on her shoulder.

“There's no need to apologise,” she interrupted cheerily, “We all have off days. Now, if you two don't mind, I won't stop and chat. I have an appointment with my dinner.”

“Yeah, the tacos were great tonight,” Blue added for good measure. Ochre nodded at him with a smile, and a definite glint of approval in her eyes.

The lounge wasn’t completely empty, but Captain Indigo had his earphones in and seemed engrossed in his tablet. He did look up as they passed, and gave them a friendly wave of acknowledgement before settling his concentration back to the screen.

Green helped herself to her green tea and Blue chose a double expresso. “You'll never sleep after drinking that,” she said, with a shake of her head.

He grinned and shrugged, and they both wandered to the couches furthest away from Indigo and sat down opposite one another. If the colonel, although a rare visitor, had chosen this moment to enter, they would definitely be more than two butt-widths apart. No fraternizing here, sir.

He turned his own cup in his hands, watching her as she took several small sips of her tea.

“You can talk to me if you want,” he said finally. “About New Mexico, I mean, or anything else that's bugging you. You know that, don't you?”

She gave him a wan smile. “Sure.” But she continued to sip her tea and he his coffee and a few more long minutes passed.

“So, what you doing for Christmas?” He changed the subject to get her talking again.

“I'm not sure yet?”

“Did Gold suggest you take some time off?”

She nodded.

“It's probably a good idea. You haven't had a decent vacation away from Skybase since we went live.”

“You're as bad as the good doctor. But I guess it has been a while.”

There was something in her voice, regret, anxiety? He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

“Well, it isn't a hanging offence,” Blue said.

“I know, but still. What about you – going home to see your family?”

Nicely batted back in his court. “I have a few days furlough, but it looks as if my mom will be working shifts again, so we probably won’t be spending the big day together.”

“That's a shame.”

He shrugged. “Won't be the first time, but we're used to it. Anyway, we had Thanksgiving together. A turkey for the main course and the usual family squabbles for dessert.”

“You argue a lot?”

“It's mostly good natured, but you can imagine, over the years, three males growing up together, bound to be a spat every now and then.”

“It must have been nice though, having brothers.” She looked a little wistful, and he realised he didn't really know much about her family background, despite their close contact in Spectrum; other than she was an only child and lost her father when she was far too young.

“It didn't always feel like it when we were growing up,” he said, “But as you get older, and maybe a little wiser, it’s good to have someone you can feel at ease with, who you know will have your back no matter what.”

Her expression turned downcast.

“Jeez, I’m sorry, Serena, I wasn’t thinking, I’m going on about my family; I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologise. I’m the one who has to figure this out for myself.”

“Will you stop that?” he insisted. “You don’t have to do this alone, I’m sitting right here, offering to help, I know I’m not qualified, but I do know you – a little – I mean, I know first-hand how you operate under pressure. I’ve seen it at close quarters, the shrinks haven’t.”

She nodded, pursing her full lips together, trying to keep her emotions in check.

“So why are you avoiding going home?” he persisted.

“I didn’t say I was.”

“Yeah, but I got the impression that you don’t want to, but I don’t know why.” He paused as a sudden flash of insight hit him. “Maybe, you don’t even know either.”

“For someone who hates shrinks, I think you might have missed your calling. What have you been reading lately?”

“Other than the hockey scores, you mean?

Green shook her head. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make out you're stupid, when you clearly aren't?”

“I didn't realise I did.”

“It's probably defensive,” she noted, almost absently, “People underestimate you, and that gives you an advantage.”

Blue's brows rose, then he let go a wry smile, recognising some of the truth in her words. “Now who's analysing who?” he replied softly.

“So, you know how it feels.”

“Sorry, but I’m not going to give up,” he announced, feeling bolder, as he felt he was slowly gaining her confidence. “You’re still avoiding my original question, about why you don’t want to see your own family.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

She took a long breath, and her expression grew melancholy. “I haven’t really been in touch with my mom, ever since New Mexico, I sent e-mails because it’s the easy way out and I don’t have to talk to her. It was always too easy to pretend I was busy with work, although, let’s face it, a lot of that was actually the truth.”

Blue grimaced. “You got that right.”

“Anyway, I’ve just been getting ever more anxious the longer time passes – which is really dumb. I mean, am I really going to blurt out – ‘Oh, and by the way, Mom, I saw Dad again, but he turned out to be a Mysteronised zombie who tried to kill me’?”

“No, I can’t see you saying anything like that.”

She fiddled with her empty cup. “And yet, I think I’ve convinced myself that I’ll fall to pieces when I face her, or she’ll sense something’s wrong, and if she was to find out what happened with – him, it would destroy her.”

Her distress was now so palpable that Blue had to fight the urge not to cross over and pull her into his arms to comfort her. Instead, he leant over the narrow coffee table and grasped her free hand, so at least she knew that someone cared, that he cared. She didn’t jerk it away, and allowed him to squeeze her fingers gently.

“You won’t fall apart,” he said, in an assured voice. “You're a professional, and a lot tougher than you think. I was there in New Mexico, remember? If it hadn't been for your actions, neither of us would be sitting here having this discussion right now. Hell, maybe even Scarlet wouldn't be here, we still have no idea if his retrometabolism could have survived a nuclear explosion.”

His gaze dropped from her pinched face to their joined hands. Her fingers were strong, cool and capable, just like she was, if only he could convince her of it. He didn’t like to be reminded of it; that he’d been in her position a few years ago, and could still recall with hideous clarity the images of death and destruction that had haunted him for several months. It had taken others to free him of their debilitating grip. As he pondered the old memories, he barely registered that his thumb seemed to possess a life of its own, tracing a soft arc against the heel of Green’s palm.

The long, charged silence was rudely broken by an explosive cough from Indigo’s direction, and Green quickly untangled her fingers from his, as if guilty of some transgression.

Indigo got up, pulled his earphones out and headed towards the door. He waved at them. “See you later, guys.”

Blue waved back, and then, they were alone, finally.

“You were miles away,” Green said. “What were you thinking about?”

He hesitated – it wasn’t in his nature to display any sort of vulnerability, but he had to convince her that she could get through this.

“The nightmares,” he said, softly. “They will go away. I know.”

She looked up at him, catching the odd inflection in his voice.

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been there, with PTSD, in 2063, after the bombing in Ankara. After I returned to the U.S. I had recurring dreams about it, they messed with my head, enough to knock me into a black hole for a few months.”

Greens troubled eyes had grown wide with surprise. “I’d never have thought, I mean, nothing seems to bother you.”

He stared into his coffee cup, momentarily flustered by his confession, about not wanting to look less than a man in her eyes. “Plenty of things bother me, I just... don’t tend to talk about them. But maybe that isn’t the smartest thing to do; it just makes the whole process go on a lot longer than it should. You’ve obviously been carrying this stuff around in your head for a while; not speaking to your mom, not letting anyone in. The shrink told me that the nightmares were a way of your mind telling you it’s had enough.”

“Gold thinks said that people can keep going under all sorts of pressure until something triggers a collapse. A catalyst he called it. He thinks I went back to work too fast after what happened in New Mexico. I told him he was being sexist – well, not in so many words – and he was really insulted.”

“Sounds like good old Gold. I felt the same way, insulted, when the brass told me to take leave after I came back. I couldn’t admit that I was struggling.”

“Perhaps he’s right. I’ve tried to suppress all the memories and they’ve just found their own way out.”

“And the pressure not to talk about it to your mom, that doesn’t help. Did you both have a good relationship before the incident in New Mexico?”

She looked startled at that, and he instantly regretted his inquisitiveness.

“Sorry, that was way out of line, it’s none of my damn business, prying into your personal life.”

“Don’t apologise, especially not after telling me about your personal trauma.” She gave a brief sigh. “Isn’t it ironic how little we know about one another, even though we’ve been working together for what seems like forever?”

“Yeah, it sure is.”

Her expression grew reflective. “I’ll admit, we’ve had difficulties over the years, ever since Dad’s disappearance. After we had to finally face the fact he wasn’t coming back, we both tried to regain some sort of normality in our lives. Mom stayed at home, and cooked and joined the PTA and ferried me to this class and that class, and I tried to deal with his loss by throwing all my energies into school and exams. I was a real geek.”

She looked so glum at this admission he might have smirked, under different circumstances.

“Mom pretty much gave up her singing career when I was born, my dad was away on the moon so much.”

“Did she ever go back, to being a singer?”

“Yes, but not until I went to college in Pennsylvania. She’d received a generous pension from the Space Agency, so we were okay financially, and dad’s family helped out too at the time. I guess, looking back, as a kid, I didn’t really get it, how she wanted to be there for me while I was growing up; a singer’s life doesn’t exactly follow the traditional nine-to-five school schedule.”

“Seems to me she really cared for you.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t think I ever appreciated at the time, and I certainly didn’t show it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to follow in Dad’s footsteps and join the Space Agency. I took all the pre-requisite graduate courses so I could get onto the program, and she constantly tried to dissuade me. Visits home would sometimes end in argument; she couldn’t understand why I was willing to pursue a career that had led to Dad's death, and I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t allow me to follow my dream. I was as pig-headed and obstinate and I couldn’t see her fear that she was terrified of losing me, as well, in the depths of space.”

“Kids have to follow their own path, Serena, that's always been the way. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“Maybe not, and in any case, she’d been worrying about nothing, because my brilliant career in space stalled before it even got onto the launch pad.”

He saw the lingering memory of shattered dreams reflected in her eyes – and although he burned with curiosity as to what had caused it, he was aware that it was a question too far. She’d already unburdened to him far more than was perhaps wise, not to mention he to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She shrugged. “It’s a long time ago, and I have a great job now with Spectrum; maybe things turn out for the best.”

“Yeah, sometimes they do. You know, it’s funny, I knew you hailed from Houston, and that you had family in Trinidad, but I always assumed your mom still lived in the US. I didn’t realise she’d gone back to the island.”

“Yes, she decided to return when I took the systems job in New York at the UN. My granddad had died a couple of years previously, and then my grandmother was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.”

“Aww, Serena, you haven’t had many breaks.”

Her expression grew pensive as she recalled sombre memories. “She had a pretty good relationship with my dad’s folks, but with him gone, and then me, there just wasn’t enough to keep her in Houston. Since I was immersed in my own career, halfway across the country, she returned to the island to look after my grandmother.”

“You’ve both had a few tough years, I think you deserve a break; and you shouldn’t have to feel guilty about everything.”

“I know, but we do, don’t we? You know, when I saw – when I thought I’d found Dad – alive – I couldn’t wait to tell her, couldn’t wait to be a family all over again, and now...”

She hurriedly swiped a hand across her damp face where tears had gathered.

“You need to talk to her,” Blue urged. “This is crippling you. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, you don’t need a shrink to tell you that longer you leave it the worse it will get.”

She smiled then; a sweet, sad thing that tugged at his heart; finally said: “I know.”

Green wandered back along the corridor to her quarters, lost in thought. She felt as if some great weight had lifted from her shoulders after talking with Blue. He had this ability to strip her down to the essentials, and it hadn’t taken much to get her to bare her soul. She absently rubbed one hand over the other, a remembrance of his fingers on hers, gentle, caressing. After all this time, she still couldn't quite erase that other body-memory, several months past; of him cradling her in his arms after she practically collapsed outside the anti-matter bunker. That comforting embrace had precipitated feelings in Green that were most definitely not platonic, and now she couldn't stop the tiny flutter in her stomach every time she saw him.

It was funny really, she thought, how the rules of attraction sometimes worked. He wasn’t conventionally handsome; his forehead was a little too high and his mouth had a downward slant at the corners that made him look perpetually pissed with life. But when he worked that same mouth into a lopsided smile, and crinkled those pale blue eyes, her heart would miss a beat.

Outwardly, he always gave an impression of gung-ho masculinity, which had, she recalled, turned her off when they’d first met. But over time, as she got to know him better, she realised there was more going on under that bluff and thunder. And now, after today, after that admission of his – which had taken guts - he’d allowed her to see that chink in his armour because he wanted to help her. It made her wonder if he cared about her more than he should.

No, she had to face reality. He was a colleague, and – she was also painfully aware - he was also a soldier and a complete professional. He lived by the military rules, and wouldn’t break them, for anything, or anyone.

Once in her room, she swallowed the prescribed medication, crept under the coverlet, and in the darkness, against all her determination not to do so, she cried softly until oblivion took hold.

The alarm woke her.

She stared into the dim light, feeling strangely refreshed. Nine and a half hours of unbroken sleep made her feel as if she was able to take on a whole planet-load of Mysterons. She showered and was half-way through making herself a morning coffee when Gold contacted her.

“How do you feel this morning, Lieutenant?”

“Your sleeping medication worked like a charm, Doc. I slept solidly without any nightmares; I feel so much better compared to yesterday morning.”

“That's encouraging news. I found some elevated stress hormones in your blood samples, but I believe we can deal with these in the short term with some rest and recuperation. Have you considered talking therapy?”

Green took a breath. “Well, it's funny that you mention it, I have talked with someone, and I believe it’s really helped.”

There was surprise in Gold’s voice. “I see, would you mind telling me who?”

She hesitated, unsure how this would be perceived. But the good doctor had practically ordered her to confide in someone, and it wasn’t as if she had run a security risk, Blue had been there, after all.

So, she took a deep breath. “It was Captain Blue; I suppose it was easy to talk to him as he’d been in New Mexico. He suggested some of my difficulties could be related to my mom – my reticence to talk to her, or visit her. What do you think?”

There were a few moments pause, as Gold considered her words. “I think Captain Blue has missed his calling,” he replied at last, in a surprised tone. “But levity aside, he may have hit on the truth of the matter.”

“So, what do you think I should do?”

“I think you know the answer to that already. Leaving things to continue the way they are will not help to ease your mind, and may continue to prolong the anxiety attacks that you've been having. I think that once you deal with the delicate issue of first contact with your mother, things will settle down between you.”

She almost snorted at Gold's typically odd metaphor - which made it sound as if her mother was some sort of extra-terrestrial, then caught herself in time. “Thanks, Doctor,” she said instead, “I'll definitely give your suggestion some serious thought.”

“Give it more than that, Serena.” She blinked at his unusual use of her first name. “And before I go, I again firmly recommend that you take your furlough away from Skybase. But the decision is yours, naturally.”

“Sure, thank you, Doctor.”

When the channel closed, she let out a long sigh. Gold always said that, and yet somehow everyone ended up doing exactly what he'd 'suggested'.

The polymer chair squeaked slightly as she sat back fully, taking stock. On the one hand she was definitely feeling better, thanks to a good night's sleep, but her relief was tempered by the daunting task that lay ahead – contacting her mother. She glanced at her screen clock, the digital numbers winking green.

Decision made, she clicked on the screen, then activated video-call app and the speed dial. There was a short lull as the connection was encrypted and secured, no chances taken that any electronic virus could hack into the most powerful computer systems in the world. She ought to know, she’d designed them herself.

Finally, she heard the single tones of the connection at the other end. She counted - eight of them, thinking that maybe she'd get away with it for another day. Then - the screen flared into life showing the brightly- lit living room of her grandmother's house in Port of Spain. The face that appeared on the screen was an older version of herself; except her mom’s hair was a lot longer, almost past her shoulders in a wavy bob. It suited her.

“Hi, Mom.” Green tried to inject a breezy tone into her greeting. “Hope it's not a bad time to call.”

“Eh-heh, I was just saying to Mooma that it's about time you gave us a real hello,” Charmaine Lewis chided, but her wide-lipped smile suggested she was delighted to cast eyes and ears on her only daughter. "We were beginning to think you'd forgotten we existed down here.”

“Of course, I haven't forgotten, I’ve sent e-mails, remember?”

“You're busy, I know, an' Mooma and I appreciate that. But I'm hoping this call is to say you're going to be coming down and spending Christmas in Trini with us.”

Green hesitated. She'd only just got used to the idea of speaking face-to-face with her mother, never mind being plunged into the melee of aunties, uncles and too-numerous-to-mention cousins. Having grown up with just her mom and dad, who’d also been an only child, Trini visits could be intense - where everyone knew everyone else's business. She never felt wholly comfortable with the friendly interrogations about her life and job and which significant other might be on the horizon.

“Mom, I'm not sure, Christmas is difficult,” she began the convenient lie, while Gold's imaginary voice sat like an invisible scold on her shoulder.

Charmaine made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Jeez-an-ages, that boss of yours needs to get his priorities right, what girl can't get time off to be with her family?”

“The girl who happens to control operations, Mom; it's in my job description, remember? I can't just decide I want to take off for a few days, especially when everyone else wants holiday over Christmas; the military doesn't work like that.”

“You think I don't know that?” Charmaine’s voice turned from honey to hard in a split second, and Green realised she'd stepped over the line without even thinking. Dammit. The one territory she didn't want to stray into and there she was stamping in the mud with her size seven and a half’s. While she was hunting around blindly for a suitable response Charmaine continued to twist the knife.

“Sweet-pea, your grandmother isn't getting any younger, and neither am I; you don't want regrets on your grave-stone.”

Breathe... just breathe. “Can I speak to Mooma, please?” she said, changing the subject quickly.

“She's having a nap; she tires easily these days.”

Green felt another wave of guilt wash over her, and she fought the feeling; after all, it wasn't her fault her grandma was poorly.

“How's she doing?” she asked in a softer voice.

“Oh, she has good days and not so good days,” Charmaine peered closer to the screen. “You look tired too. I think you're spending too many hours sitting behind a desk. It isn't natural, you know.”

“Mom, I promise I'll talk to the colonel and see I can get any time off, okay?”

Charmaine gave a high-wattage smile. “That’s my girl, and just so you know, our welcome extends to any young man you might have hidden the background that I don't know about.”

“There's no man, young or otherwise,” she replied quickly. “I’m too busy for a relationship.”

“You can like your job and still have love too. They don't have to be mutually exclusive.”

“I'm sorry, Mom, I'm due on shift in a little while, so I just need to get ready. It was great talking to you, give my love to Mooma.”

Charmaine's image stared wistfully out from the screen and she gave a little wave of her manicured hand. “I will, and make sure you come down and have a real Christmas, breathe some real air, not that dehydrated chemical stuff that passes for it – “she waved her fingers theatrically – “Up there, wherever you are right now. Come down to our beautiful island and get a huge dose of Vitamin D. It'll put some sparkle in those tired eyes of yours, sweet-pea. I do worry about you, you know.”

“I know, Mom, thanks, I love you. Give Mooma a hug for me.”

Charmaine wagged one elegant index finger. “Give her a hug yourself.”

Green chuckled in spite of herself. “Bye for now. I'll call you again.”

“You see that you do.” She blew a kiss and Green terminated their connection.

Oh boy, her mother really knew how to twist the guilt. She closed the link and sat in silence for a while. She thought about calling Adam, but didn’t want to give him the impression she was more enthusiastic than she should be. She put her head in her hands; she’d never worried about such nuances in their relationship before New Mexico.

Blue chafed at another slow day on Skybase, when he should have been happy. That very inactivity meant that the Mysterons were keeping their incorporeal mitts off the Earth, so that those folks celebrating Christmas could get on with maxing out their credit cards for the big day, in peace.

He'd completed his morning jog at the gym, followed by a hearty breakfast and a sneaky look at the duty logs, and was pleased to note a certain officer was back at her post on Central Control, although, he was stupidly itching to speak to her and find out if his pet theory had been correct.

No field agent was allowed to lounge about all day when there was a lull, (contrary to popular opinion amongst some on the engineering and maintenance decks), so he'd spent two hours on the flight simulator (and crashed a damn Albatross in one of the scenarios) and another hour in the armoury, alongside Grey, for some target practice. He couldn't go pester Serena when she was on-duty without a valid excuse, so he'd just have to bide his time.

When he sauntered into the Officers' Lounge by late afternoon, Scarlet was in the middle of a chess game with Brown over by the panoramic windows, Magenta nursed a coffee, looking as bored as Blue felt, and Ochre sat across from him on one of the long couches, earphones in and evidently engrossed with something on the tablet she had balanced on her knees, feet up on a low table.

Blue slumped down on the couch next to Ochre with his fourth cup of coffee - but who was counting? She gave him a sideways glance and a jaunty smile then returned to her screen.

“What you planning for Christmas, Mario?” he asked.

Magenta shrugged and looked glum. “I've pulled duty with Grey for Christmas Eve, so I guess we'll be playing nursemaid to the skeleton staff. I'm really gonna miss my nonna's panettone.” For effect he pursed his lips and brought his fingers together to kiss the tips. “It’s truly delizioso.”

“Ask her to send some to Skybase,” Blue replied with a chuckle, “then we can all enjoy it.”

Magenta brightened. “You know, maybe I will; I think there's still time to put in for a drone order in time to meet the Swift shuttle this evening.”

Scarlet looked up from his chess game. “Are you heading down to your folks’ in Fort Hood, Adam?”

“Nope. My mom’s hospital is shorthanded due to some sickness bug, so she'll be working. Luke's still out in Antarctica, and Ben's got a new girlfriend and he's decided to spend Christmas with her family in San Diego, and Dad’s got a new brief from the president, so I’d be twiddling my thumbs on my lonesome.”

“Lucky Ben,” Ochre said. “I could fair relax myself by a nice beach, but I'll be spending mine in rainy old Ireland. Not that I don’t mind staying with my relatives, you understand...”

“It’s okay, Elaine, we get you,” Blue said, with a chuckle.

The door swished open and he automatically looked up. Green. She gave a half-glance around the lounge, then her eyes quickly found his. He felt his heart skip over. What in heaven’s name was wrong with him these days?

“Hi guys,” she greeted everyone, then sent a hesitant smile in his direction. “Uh, Adam, you got a few minutes? I just wanted to run something past you.”

He nodded and rose to join her, wondering why he felt so damn guilty all of a sudden, and choosing to ignore the sly grin that appeared on Magenta's face.

“Sure, Serena,” he replied nonchalantly. He could do nonchalant - stuff Mario.

“Anything we can help with, cara?” Magenta directed the question at Green, in that silky voice he sometimes used that got right up Blue's nose. Must have got up Ochre's too - the Italian-American let out a startled yelp as Ochre's empty coffee cup bounced off his tunic.

He glared at her. “What was that for?” he said, in a wounded tone.

“If you don't know, then you're a lost cause, boyo,” she retorted.

“Huh, well I'm gonna make sure you don't get any of my panettone.”

Blue grinned as he joined Green at the door. “I think it's time to leave before a fight starts.”

“My money's on Elaine,” Scarlet said loudly, a big grin on his face. Brown sniggered and Magenta huffed.

“I get zero respect from you guys. Zero.”

The corridor was empty outside the lounge. “I'm sorry to drag you away,” Green said.

“Are you kidding me? I'm feeling bored and antsy. But I'm glad to see you.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” he said, “after last night, I was hoping you'd be okay, but I checked the logs and saw you were back in the saddle, so I guess that's good.”

“I slept really well.”

“And no nightmares?”

She shook her head. “Gold’s medication is enough to put a rhino to sleep, but I don’t want to get addicted.”

“You won’t, you’re not the type.”

She cocked her head at him. “You’re sure of that?”

“Sure, I’m sure, and anyway, Gold won’t let you. His bedside manner stinks, but you’ve got to admit, he’s a darn good physician.”

“He could take a few lessons from you.”

“Huh?”

“His medication has really helped, but you were the one who gave me the pep talk that really helped me find my way through this nightmare.” She dropped her gaze quickly to her hands. “So, I really just wanted to thank you for being there for me – again.”

“Hey, it was no trouble.”

She glanced up again, almost immediately. “And I also wanted to let you know that I took your advice and called my mom.”

Blue's smile widened, and he felt a warm glow in his innards. “That's just great, Serena. Does that mean you'll be spending Christmas with her in Trinidad?”

“Woah, not so fast.” Green's answering smile faded. “I sort of promised her during the vid-call, after she made me feel uber guilty, but I'm not sure I'm ready to go there yet.”

“A few days in the sun would do you good.”

“That’s what she said.”

“So, we're in agreement, me and her.”

“Certainly, sounds like it.” A faraway look appeared in her eyes. “I was planning to visit them, you know, but everything's been crazy since the Mars mission disaster. We’ve all had a hard time dealing with everything.”

“I know, Serena, but we don't know how long this war with the Mysterons will go on, we can't put our lives on hold forever.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Does it sound like I'm making excuses?

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Don't beat yourself up about it. But you really are due a vacation.”

“Well, I could still take a few days off and remain in Skybase.”

“Right, I know you, you won't be able to keep yourself away from Central Control.”

“You make me sound like a workaholic.”

He crossed his arms and grinned. “If the boots fit.”

“You have no idea what it's like on the island. I literally have dozens of relatives on my mom's side, and everyone thinks your personal life is public property.”

“You're a tough cookie, you've handled a lot worse.”

She squinted at him, "Well I appreciate the compliment, but seriously, I don’t feel ready to go there on my own, not just yet, after what's happened.”

“They can't be that bad.”

“Oh, they're not horrible to me, just the opposite. I think all they all feel sorry for me because I was an only child, and they have to make up for it by showering me with love and kindness, but I end up feeling suffocated. And Christmas in Trini is a big thing, everyone is going to be hyper: baking like crazy, washing windows, painting the house, hanging new curtains.”

“Huh? Isn't Christmas stressful enough without redecorating?”

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s something else, though, isn’t there?”

“I’m afraid, Adam.”

“Of what?”

“That I’d say something rash, blurt something out – that I shouldn’t.”

“You won’t, and you can’t let the idea of it stop you seeing her. I told you, the longer you leave things the more difficult it’ll be.”

The lounge door slid open and Scarlet wandered out. “You two still here?”

“Kind of looks like it,” Blue drawled back.

Green glanced at her watch. “I have to go. I’ve got to finish a report for the colonel.”

Damn it, Paul, I was just getting somewhere.

“I wish he’d finish his own reports,” Blue said with a grimace. “God, I hate paperwork.”

“Even though we don’t have any paper?” Scarlet responded, with a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes.

Green chuckled, and Blue realised he hadn’t heard that sound in a long time. He also realised he’d missed it – a lot.

They remained silent until Scarlet had disappeared into the turbo lift along the corridor, then she said: “Well, I’d better be going too.”

She turned on her heel, and started walking in the same direction, when a crazy idea occurred to him, followed by a little voice that screamed ‘bad idea’ and, although he knew he was about to start skating across paper-thin ice, he just ignored the warnings and kept going.

“Hey, Serena, wait up.”

She stopped in front of the lift, her whole body a query, while Blue trotted to a halt in beside her.

“Look, I don’t have any plans over Christmas, so, I was thinking, if you wanted some company, we could head down to Trinidad together. I’ll hire a rental car and drop you off at your mom’s house and I’ll book into a hotel for a couple of nights, but I’ll be around for moral support, if you need it. You don’t have to do this alone. What do you say?”

Her eyes had grown so wide during his outburst that he thought they might pop out of her head and he was beset by an attack of self-consciousness. God, he had no business proposing this lunatic idea, blundering into her personal life like this. He was dangerously close to crossing a line that perhaps should not be crossed.

“You’d do that for me?” she replied.

“Um – sure, any good friend would,” he replied sheepishly, “Especially If they happened to know about everything you’ve been through in the last few months. Well, maybe Elaine comes closest, now, but she’s off to Ireland so... you’re left with me.”

Jeez, could he sound any more lame?

“Look,” he said, “I might be way out of line here...”

She shook her head briskly, and briefly touched his arm, just as quickly returned it to her side. “No, no, thank you, it’s such a kind thing to do, but I don’t want you to spoil your precious furlough baby-sitting me.”

“I’m not baby-sitting, I’m friend-sitting. Big difference. Anyway, I could do with a break from Skybase too, and where better to spend my time than in the Caribbean? It’s no hardship, Serena, honest to God, but we’d better get our skates on or we’ll be paying a fortune for flights.”

Her expressive brown eyes brimmed with emotion, infusing him with sudden warmth.

“Thanks, Adam, I’ll think about it, okay?”

Part Two

Green let out a sigh at the pile of clothes on the bed, trying to decide what to take with her to Trinidad. Ever since she’d agreed to Blue’s impetuous offer, and booked herself on the same flight, her mood had been swapping between trepidation and elation. Trepidation about seeing her mother and family again; elation about the thought of spending time away from Skybase with a man who was steadily becoming a fixation.

She dumped the silver suitcase onto the bed, then rummaged through her clothes, most of which was strictly utilitarian, as befitted life on an air-base. Jeans, tee-shirt, maybe a sweatshirt in case it was chilly on the flight to Trini. She stared at the remainder of the clothes strewn on the bed, and realised just what she'd let herself in for - already imagining the delighted speculation in every one of the Samuels clan's eyes when she brought Blue to the most important family occasion of the year.

She held up a white blouse; it was nice enough, but hardly show-stopping. Stop that right now! she told herself sternly. She had to stop reading things into his offer. This wasn’t a romantic liaison for two, it was a friend helping out a friend. Period. And if she told herself that enough times, she might even believe it.

She stuffed everything into the suitcase and closed the zipper, and then pulled on her leather coat. The Swift was departing shortly, and she didn't want to miss it, not at the price she’d forked out for the ticket from Washington National to Trinidad.

She hurried down to the hangar bay, where an assortment of Skybase personnel who had pulled furlough for this most wanted of holidays, stood in line to board. She could hear the hum of expectant chatter, the anticipation in everyone’s eyes, all looking forward to a trip home to their loved ones. A service crew were already unloading crates of supplies from the cargo hold of the Swift, and the contents would no doubt be heading for the kitchens to be served up for Christmas dinner tomorrow for those left on Skybase.

She spotted Blue, looking striking in black jeans and a beat-up brown leather jacket over a white shirt, chatting to Ochre. They looked comfortable together and she couldn’t suppress a ridiculous twinge of envy; the pair were sometimes partnered together in the field, and shared a working camaraderie that she’d probably never experience. She licked her lips nervously as she approached them. By mutual assent they’d kept their trip low key.; there was little point in driving speculation, especially when it wasn’t warranted.

Ochre gave her a jaunty smile when she wandered up. “How long's your flight from National to Trinidad?”

“A couple of hours,” Green replied. Blue had obviously spilled the beans, but they were so close to departure it didn’t really matter. In any case, she trusted Ochre to keep the secret.

“Twice as long for me to Dublin, but I think I'll just snooze all the way across so I have enough energy to survive my nephews.”

“What age are they?”

“Two months, three and five. My sister got very busy when she married.”

“That’s more than a handful, all right,” Green replied. “I’m not sure I could even imagine dealing with three kids under five.”

“Yeah, imagine the cost in diapers alone,” Blue said, with a grin.

“It’s why I feel sorry for your poor mother,” Ochre shot back.

Everyone trooped on board the Swift and settled into their seats. The aircraft taxied along the hangar bay to the lift, was taken up to the flight deck, and almost immediately given clearance to take off. Sometime later they circled Washington National, in a sky murky with light snow.

“I’m jealous of the pair of you, getting some sun,” Ochre said, as they filed off the Swift after it had taxied to the high security Spectrum terminal. “Have a great time, and don't do anything I wouldn't.”

Green gamely smiled at the throwaway cliché, and looked out of the window of the monorail shuttle that would whisk them to the civilian terminal. Several Spectrum ground crew in charcoal overalls had begun to load supplies into the cargo hold of the now-empty Swift.

“Let's hope Mario's panettone made it,” Ochre said.

“Hope so too,” Blue said, with a grin. “Or poor old Ian's gonna have a miserable Christmas putting up with his sulks.”

Once in the terminal building for civilian connecting flights, the Spectrum personnel headed in all directions for their particular departure gates. Ochre bid the two of them a cheery farewell and headed to the Dublin gate, while Green asked if Blue would mind waiting in the concourse lounge while she quickly did some shopping.

“Sure, I’ll grab a coffee. It’s an hour till boarding, will that give you enough time?”

“I hope so, it gets more difficult each year.”

He nudged her gently. “The best Christmas present your mom is going to get is having you home.”

“You really do know how to cheer me up, don’t you?” she said, smiling.

He winked, at her, causing her pulse to flutter. “Just don’t get so caught up in shopping that you miss the flight.”

Green wandered around the brightly lit concourse, awash with decorations and sparkling lights, dazzling the eyes and senses. Smells of cinnamon from a pastry shop mingled with pine and incense from the one next door selling candles and home gifts.

In one eclectic boutique she found a hand-dyed kaftan in tropical colours that she knew would delight her grandmother, and a set of cookie cutters in the shape of musical notes for her mom. She thanked the store assistant for the beautifully gift-wrapped boxes then continued to mooch around, wondering what on earth she could get Adam, to thank him for his kindness in coming with her.

She wandered into one shop, filled with leather goods and jewellery, and idly looked at several leather wallets. A sensible choice, stylish but not too intimate. She gnawed her bottom lip. Sensible had no place in a Christmas gift, and what she required was something that would subtly convey that he meant more to her than just a colleague or even a friend, without being too blatant. She put the wallet down, moving further into the shop, until her eyes alighted upon a table displaying several small boxes, open to display the gifts inside. A small smile curved her lips.

Perfect.

They picked up a rental car at the airport. The air was still warm as Blue took the convertible out onto the Churchill-Roosevelt highway towards Port of Spain. Green hadn't argued when, without asking, he immediately took the driver’s seat, and even though being behind the wheel would have given her something to focus on other than her impending family reunion, she didn’t have the heart to stop him. She just gave him one reminder before he left the airport. “Remember, they drive on the left here.”

He'd looked at her blankly for a second, then muttered, “Sure, I knew that.”

Outside, he let the roof down, and a balmy breeze riffled through her short hair as the car purred along. She drew in a long breath, trying to ease the tension that had been building from the moment she had landed at the island's airport.

“You okay?” Blue's voice broke into her thoughts. They'd drifted into silence once they'd got on the highway, while he concentrated on making sure the sat-nav wasn’t giving him duff directions, but he'd obviously sensed her growing unease.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking about what I'm going to say to my mom.”

“Just give her a hug, that usually says more than words ever can, and that's coming from a guy who doesn't really do the touchy- feely stuff.”

“So, you say,” she replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“Anyway, I’ll be there, by your side. I’ll nudge you if I think you’re going to give away state secrets.” He sent a positive smile her way in the dusky light. “How about some music, take your mind off things?”

He turned on the radio.

'Cantando gloria, gloria, gloria en el cielo. En un establo nació el Dios verdadero’ drifted out from the speakers.

“Hey, that's Spanish, with a Caribbean beat,” Blue noted.

“It's called parang, and you're going to hear it a lot. Trini folks love to sing it most of the time, but they really get going with it at Christmas. You hear it everywhere, in the street, the supermarket, bars, clubs.”

“Do you sing it?” He cast her a sideways sly glance,

“Sometimes, but don’t think you're going to get me up on a stage."

“Sounds like a challenge, I’ve got almost thirty-six hours to persuade you.”

That made butterflies dance a jig in Green's stomach.

Soon, the glittering lights of numerous tall towers heralded their arrival in the heart of the city proper. Blue cruised along the wide boulevard, the sidewalks teeming with people, parang and jazz music blaring out of bars and clubs.

Green glanced at her watch. It wasn't late yet, just gone five, and her mother's Christmas Eve parties lasted well into the night.

“Adam, do you mind if we stop and have a drink? I could do with a coffee.”

“Sure. Do you know anywhere decent in town?”

“Maybe we could stop at your hotel? They're bound to have a bar there, and you can check in at the same time.”

“Okay, but are you sure you aren't just putting off meeting up with your mom?”

She gave him a watery smile. “I'm that obvious, huh?”

“Yeah. But I'm gonna humour you for one drink, okay?”

She sat back in the seat, relieved at her small reprieve. “I promise.”

Blue barked new instructions to the sat-nav and followed the road north heading around the dark expanse of Queens Park Savannah, the green lung of the city. The unmistakable Caribbean sound of steel drums mixed with the choral singing of parang began to grow louder as they approached the park. Soon the sounds were joined by lights, from the glow of the streetlamps and from the lights strung across dozens of food stalls catering to a buzzing throng of people celebrating Christmas Eve outdoors. The balmy air was suddenly scented with sizzling spices, from curries and cooking meats and without warning, Blue's stomach gave a series of loud gurgles.

“Jeez, sorry, Serena,” he mumbled, reddening slightly.

A giggle escaped her lips. Once again, without meaning to, Adam had released some of her built up tension. “It’s funny how smell can be so evocative. This takes me right back to eating corn soup and chicken roti from one of those stalls when I used to visit as a teenager.”

“I know what you mean, same thing I get when I smell a corn dog; I’ll be back in the baseball stadium with my Dad and brothers.”

The Savannah Plaza hotel was a typical four-star, with a bright atrium lobby. Vivid red poinsettias were dotted strategically around the space, and a fifteen-foot-high fir tree glistened with baubles and lights. Blue checked in and got his room key and the receptionist directed them to the bar opposite, which was fairly quiet, most people were out carousing the many clubs and eateries in the town. They sat opposite one another and picked up the stiff white menu cards, while piped music – a smoky jazz instrumental - played in the background.

It was strange being together, just the two of them, out of their uniforms, the visible trappings of their status as Spectrum agents. Sure, they’d been alone for a short while on Skybase, when they’d both opened up to one another, but this seemed different – she felt different; strangely unguarded, as if all the barriers and the rules and had melted away beneath the warmth of the Christmas lights strung above their heads.

She sat looking at the menu, not really hungry. She was apprehensive about the impending reunion with her mom, but several nights of restful sleep, thanks to Gold, had tempered the mood swings and fractiousness, as well as reducing the tell-tale signs of fatigue on her face. She was worried that her physical appearance might prompt questions from her mom that she wouldn’t be able to answer, because she had never been very good at lying, never wanted to, in fact. That had been part of the problem between them; she always infuriatingly honest, and now, she had to find a way to deceive so artfully, so that neither of them suffered any more mental anguish because of what the Mysterons had done to her in New Mexico.

She glanced up imperceptibly, using her long lashes as a shield, to study the man opposite her. She hadn’t just wanted to stop here for a breathing space. No, she admitted to herself, she also wanted to eke out the time she and Adam remained alone, in this little cocoon of a hotel bar, before they were thrown back into another semblance of structure and rules amongst her family, where she would insist, he was nothing more than a friend.

Sitting here together, she could imagine, for a little while, at least, that they weren’t in a life-or-death battle with the Mysterons, and that he wasn’t Spectrum’s number two agent and she was Colonel White’s right-hand woman, and that the safety of the world and its inhabitants didn’t rest on the decisions they both made. She knew the stakes, knew where her duty lay, but that didn’t stop that dull ache in her heart for something more. She was heading towards thirty and occasionally, her thoughts touched on the future – the possibility of something beyond herself. The trouble was, her world was a place filled with implacable aliens bent on revenge. She wouldn’t be allowed to share that part of her life with anyone outside Spectrum.

But she just might be able to – with Adam Svenson.

The mind was a complex beast, Gold had got that right.

Blue studied the white menu card, but almost immediately became aware of Green’s covert glances, although he was pretty sure she thought he hadn’t noticed. Damn, she looked different, but good in her travel outfit; a simple, vibrant pink tee and pale blue jeans. Her expression was contemplative, most likely thinking about home. He was sure she’d be okay; he’d never met anyone so determined, but he wasn’t quite so sure about his own motives in coming down here with her. He didn’t want to admit they weren’t as altruistic as he’d like to think they were.

She glanced up at him again, and then, he had the curious feeling she was thinking about him, maybe even judging him in some fashion. He felt a slow flush rise on the back of his neck, an annoying adolescent trait that he’d never quite been able to shake off when he felt uncomfortable. Thankfully, the waiter arrived to take their order and he could concentrate on something else.

The music had subtly changed, from an instrumental to a softly crooning woman, lamenting life, love and men doing her wrong. Green listened to it with soulful eyes, her fingers tapping gently on the table top.

“I do like a bit of jazz,” he said.

“And here I thought your musical tastes might run more to country.”

He gave a soft grunt of laughter. “And now, I’m feeling stereotyped.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist it.”

The server returned with their drinks and Blue’s food. He placed it down on the table and Blue signed the tab. They sipped coffee and he worked his way through the nachos to appease his hunger, only food didn’t quite douse the other basic need, the one that still fizzed in his veins every time he looked at her. He needed a distraction.

“Was your mom a jazz singer?” was the dumb question that came out of his mouth – and there he went again, blundering about with his size twelves, on topics that were none of his damn business.

But she didn’t appear to be upset by his question. “Not at first. She was classically trained, cut her teeth on musicals and graduated to recitals in the Queen’s Hall, but it’s probably just as well jazz was her true love, otherwise she’d never have met my dad.”

“Serena, you don’t have to talk about your folks if you don’t feel like it. I’m sorry I even asked. I don’t want to stir up any sad memories for you.”

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind. In some way, it’s nice to talk about it, and it’s easier talking with someone who’s not emotionally involved, like family. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

She took a slow sip of her coffee. “Well, Mom had been offered a contract at the Houston Grand Opera. It was a great opportunity to make her mark in the US as a professional, but she really missed Trinidad and being away from family. She and a girl-friend discovered a jazz and soca club run by some Trini-expats in the city, fairly close to the NASA facility, and it wasn’t long before she had graduated from drinking cocktails to moonlighting on the stage, singing jazz numbers just for fun. One night, my dad and some of his astronaut buddies wandered in for a last fling before they went off on a six-month stint on the Moon. He saw her on stage, and that was that.”

Another wistful smile hovered on her full lips. “When I was a little girl, I used to beg them to tell me again and again they story of how they met, and of course I thought it was just so romantic. Dad would always chuckle and say it took him a moment to fall in love with Mom, and another year to persuade her to marry him.”

“An astronaut’s spouse, it’s a hard gig,” Blue said soberly, then realised his mistake as her smile of reminiscence faded. Now she was upset. Jeez, he was doing more harm than good here. Way to go, Svenson. He’d ruined all his good work up to now with one crass remark. Could he have been any more obtuse? Sometimes, he thought, his mom had a point. He pushed the almost empty plate of nachos to one side with a heavy heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “that remark... it was thoughtless, I understand if you want to-”

She stopped him mid-sentence, reaching over and covering his hand with hers. His pulse leapt at her touch.

“Stop apologising,” she said, her expression becoming something – else. “I don’t want you skirting around me as if I’m made of glass. Your comment surprised me, but it was the truth. I don’t think I really understood how hard it was for her to be left behind when he went into space.”

“Have you ever told her?”

“What?”

“That you understand?”

She dropped her gaze slightly. “No, not in so many ways.”

“Maybe you should.”

She raised her eyes to him again and a light seemed to dawn in her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

With a tiny sigh of relief, he tilted his free wrist to peer at his watch. “I think maybe we ought to head off,” he suggested gently. “Are you ready to go?”

She nodded mutely.

They left the bar and walked across the parking lot again, and Green felt oddly light-headed. Unburdening herself to Adam seemed to be surprisingly easy. She had another powerful impulse to reach out for his hand, and she was almost sure he wouldn't have objected, but there would be no reason for it now, the moment had passed.

They got into the car and Blue drove out of the lot and headed north east.

“Take a right”, she said as they approached a busy crossroads, before the sat-nav's voice could cut-in. Direction Maraval.

He nodded and swung right, heading uphill. Soon the synthetic voice announced that they had reached their destination. Green got out of the car slowly and stared at the pale-green two-story house with its sloping roof and intricate fretwork, and a fresh coat of paint just in time for the festivities. An enormous wreath decorated the front door, its fake snow incongruous in the warm evening. Multi-coloured lights were strung over the house with flamboyant abandon, her mom's handiwork evident everywhere. She was more her father's daughter in that respect - slightly introverted, with a tendency to understatement. The mere thought of Robert Lewis once again brought the nightmares back and she felt a tremor of panic. She stood rooted on the sidewalk for a moment, staring at the house.

“Hey, are you okay?”

She heard Blue’s concerned voice break through her mental fog. “Yes, but I'm really glad you're here,” she said, giving him a watery smile.

“It'll be okay, you'll be okay. Just enjoy being with your family. It's Christmas Eve, after all.” He looked suddenly grave. “None of us in this line of work ever know how many of these we’re going to get.”

She nodded, knowing the truth in his words, and they slowly walked up the path to the front door. With a deep breath, she rang the bell, and after an interminable minute, the door opened wide to allow the sounds of animated chatter and music to spill out from the house. The woman framed in the bright light from the hallway took a few seconds to recognise her daughter, then let out a shriek of joy, enfolding her in a fierce hug.

“Oh, Sweet-pea. It's so good to see you.”

“Me too, Mom.”

Charmaine pulled away when she caught sight of Blue, hanging back slightly in the darkened path.

“You must be Adam.”

“Yes, ma’am. Pleased to meet you. I’m Serena’s colleague.”

“Uh-huh.” Charmaine appraised Blue with a mother's eyes, but let any thoughts hang silent, much to Green's relief. “Well, if you had anything to do with getting my daughter down here, you have my eternal gratitude. Come on in and join the party.” She linked her arm into her daughter’s. “We’ve all been waiting for you.”

Green sent Blue a sideways glance with an I-told-you-so expression, and he mouthed back - you'll be fine...

The three of them entered a very crowded but elegant living room, and it didn’t take long for the various members of the Samuels clan to converge on Green and Charmaine with whoops of delight and happy laughter.

“Lordy, if it isn't little Serena!”

“What you been doing with yourself, girl?”

“Welcome back to Trini!”

“Well, it's about time you showed up, cousin!”

The raucous greetings echoed around her, and she was caught up in hearty hugs from aunts and uncles and cousins galore, as Charmaine pulled her through the throng towards an enormous couch that took up one of the walls of the living room. At its centre, dwarfed by brightly coloured cushions, sat an elderly woman with bird-bright eyes.

“Our girl's home at last, Mooma,” Charmaine said, and Green could hear the satisfaction in her voice.

Green bent to kiss the soft, wrinkled cheek, and blinked back sudden tears; her grandmother had lost a lot of weight since she'd last set eyes on her.

“You're looking maga,” the old woman responded perversely, in a voice that belied her body's frailty. “Don't they feed you up there, girl?”

Green’s laughter bubbled up. “Oh, Mooma, I've missed you.”

“Missed me, uh-huh, missed me so much it's taken you nearly a year to come and see me.” She peered over her glasses. “Who's this you've brought with you? Come closer young man, let me get a look at you”

Blue stepped forward, bent his tall frame to shake her thin-boned, outstretched hand.

“Adam Svenson, ma'am, I’m pleased to meet you.”

Mooma Samuels smiled and patted the couch seat. “I like your manners. Come and sit down with me. You too, Serena.” She waved imperiously. “Charmaine, why don't you bring us all something to drink, I've run out of my ponche de crème.”

“I think you've had enough,” Charmaine chided. “That's your third, and you know you shouldn't even be drinking with your medication.”

“Pftt. I'll decide when I can drink or not, or when I've had enough. Bad enough this old body is giving up on me, I can't even enjoy something to celebrate Christmas?”

Charmaine let out a sigh, while the old woman winked at Green and Blue. The latter tried gamely to keep a straight face.

“I'm driving back to the hotel,” he said, “so if you've anything non-alcoholic, I'd appreciate it.”

“Hmm, handsome and smart, you picked a good 'un there for your bonafide, girl,” her grandmother said, and Green felt her cheeks heat, not daring to steal a glance at Blue to see his reaction, although she could have sworn, she saw the corners of his mouth quirk upwards.

“Mooma, he's a friend, I work with him,” she insisted.

Charmaine said, “I hope you’ll come to us for lunch tomorrow, Adam, you’re more than welcome.”

“Sure, that’s very kind of you, but you don’t –”

“Of course, he will,” Green blurted out, “I mean, if you don’t mind...” she added, capturing his eyes with an imploring look. Up to this moment she hadn’t fully realised how much she’d become to rely on him to get her through this. But it wasn’t only that, she felt ashamed at the thought of him spending the day in a soulless hotel; couldn’t bear to think of him eating alone on Christmas day.

“I’d be honoured, thank you,” he replied, and Green felt her shoulders relax.

“Well, then, that’s all fixed”, Charmaine smiled broadly, “Now, Adam, perhaps you’d like to help me with the drinks?”

“Sure, ma’am,” he replied, rising off the couch before he’d even made an imprint. He sent Green a quick nod of reassurance; the expression in his eyes said; Don’t worry, all your secrets are safe with me.

She watched him go, warmth pulsing around her insides.

Blue negotiated the milling bodies in Charmaine’s wake, but glanced back quickly to check on Green, hoping that the reunion hadn't knocked the young woman sideways. Thankfully, she was in deep conversation with her grandmother, the two of them clasping one another's hands as they talked.

Charmaine ended up at a long table set next to the far wall of the living room, which practically groaned under the weight of party food and drinks, and Blue felt his stomach rumble again just looking at the feast spread out before him, despite the plate of nachos in the hotel bar.

“Don’t worry,” Charmaine said, obviously noticing his interest. “We'll eat shortly. but first I'd like to make a toast. You must try a glass of our favorite Christmas drink. It's called sorrel, made from steeping red hibiscus flowers with ginger and pimento. We usually add gin, but I've made some without too. Serena's never been that fussed about drinking alcohol.”

“And I'm driving, so I'll have some of the one without too.”

“Coming right up.” She poured two glasses of the ruby-red liquid from a carafe into tall tumblers and handed them to him.

“So, what do you do in Spectrum, Adam?” she asked, while pouring a creamy froth from a bottle into another two glasses.

“I'm sorry, Ma'am, I'm afraid that's classified.”

“Yes, that's what Serena tells me when I ask her what's she's been up to, and please, call me Charmaine.”

“Sure.”

“What brings you to Trini, don't you have family in the US?”

“Well, I do, but everyone's either working or taking vacation elsewhere this year. I was kind of expecting to spend my furlough in Skybase, but there was a spare seat on the Swift, so I thought I'd just spent a couple of days here, since I've never visited the island before.”

It was only partly a lie, after all.

“You're more than welcome to stay with us, Adam.”

“Thanks, but I've already booked a hotel in the centre of town, and registered with the front desk. It’s more than generous of you to invite me for dinner tomorrow. My mom always says you should never pass up an invitation to eat where you know the cooking's going to be great.”

Charmaine gave a throaty laugh. “I think your mother and I would get on famously.”

He followed her back through the happy throng, to join Serena and her grandmother, He was about to take a mouthful of his glass of sorrel when Charmaine clinked her glass and asked for quiet. The chatter in the room subsided to a murmur, and someone smartly lowered the mood music. All eyes turned to the sofa where Serena sat with her grandmother, and because he was now watching for signs of her emotional weather, he noticed the muscles in her face tighten.

“Everyone,” Charmaine announced, “this Christmas Eve I am so blessed to have my beautiful daughter here for Christmas. Your niece, your cousin - Serena, who has travelled a long way to be join us, so let us give a warm Trini family welcome to her.”

Cheers and whoops echoed around the room, punctuated by chinking glasses. Blue saw Serena surreptitiously wipe her cheek. She glanced around, caught his eye and smiled, raising her glass subtly to him, as if in thanks. A breath caught in his throat, at the way her eyes sparkled in the lights, full of tinsel and warmth, and his heart ached with a sudden crazy desire to kiss her.

Damn it to hell. He’d wanted to be here for her, away from the restrictions of Skybase, but wasn’t expecting anything to happen, because nothing should. But the more time he spent with her, was gradually turning his expectation of nothing to slowly and surely into a hope of something. He might as well cut the whole friend and colleague rescue mission as crap, because the more time that passed, it became more difficult to deny his burgeoning feelings for her.

Paul didn’t seem to mind flouting the regs with Simone, so why shouldn't he? There was only one problem, he really didn’t know how Serena felt, and perhaps, he had no damn right to know.

The front doorbell jangled noisily, intruding into his melancholy thoughts, followed by the sound of noisy singing outside the house.

“Paranderros!” Charmaine announced, “We're lucky tonight! She put her glass down and headed off to the front door to welcome them.

Green rose from the sofa and joined him where he stood. They clinked glasses and she said, “Paranderros are the Trini equivalent of carol singers,” she explained. “They serenade you and they hope that they're good enough to be invited in for some food.”

“I hope they stink; I've seen the spread on that table.”

She punched him playfully. “Oh you... don’t worry, my mom knows how to throw a party. There'll be plenty food, even for you.”

He leaned closer, whispered in her ear, “Serena, what's a bonafide?”

She glanced up at him and then just as quickly averted her eyes. He could have sworn a faint blush rose in her cheeks. “It's Trini slang, for a girlfriend, or boyfriend, she mumbled.

“Ah.”

In the ensuing awkward pause, he was almost grateful for the arrival of the paranderros, who strode into the already crowded lounge, and everyone flowed away to make a circle of space for them to sing within. Their upbeat refrain sounded similar to the one he'd heard in the car. One guy played a curious small four stringed guitar, one a violin, another shook a set of maracas, and the fourth smacked what looked like two wooden blocks together. The audience clapped and stamped their feet in time to the music, clearly approving, and that made the paranderros up their tempo. When they finished, they were treated to loud applause and then, Charmaine announced the food was served, and the parranderos were welcome to take some for themselves.

That signalled a stampede to the buffet, and he joined the queue with a plate and then he and Serena went back to the sofa with one for herself and one for her grandmother.

“God, these are good,” Blue announced, his mouth half full of something that looked like a tamale but wasn't.

“Pastelles,” Green said, “A real Trini specialty; Mom and my aunties have probably spent the last two days making all this.”

“They've always been your favourite food, Serena,” her grandmother said, gently tweaking her cheek.

“Oh, they still are, but they're sure hard to find away from the island, Mooma,” Green replied, with another fond smile.

Blue would have been happy to stay by Green's side on the sofa all evening, but Charmaine insisted on introducing him to all of the family. He looked at her with a helpless look in his face and she simply smirked, as if to say, I told you but you wouldn’t listen. He returned a lopsided grin and capitulated to his fate.

He shook hands with Serena’s aunts Cherelle and Charity, and her uncles Marlon and Edwin, and Blue gave up trying to remember all the names of the husbands and numerous cousins, just nodded and smiled and shook hands and fielded the questions about his job as best he could, being polite but not giving much away. Like most people they believed the Mysterons were earth-based terrorists, and Spectrum tried its best to maintain that cover story, at least for now, to stop mass panic. He was grateful none of their stinking threats had reached this lovely island, and he sincerely hoped that would remain the case in future, for the sake of Serena's family.

The paranderros had long gone but the party was still in full swing. It was close to nine when Serena’s gap-toothed Uncle Marvin called out. “Well, now everyone’s had enough Christmas food, it’s time for some singing!”

The good-natured crowd chanted, “Charmaine, Charmaine!” and she gave a half-resigned smile, as if this was all part of the show, and took the proffered microphone from her older brother.

The room fell silent, and Charmaine began to sing; a Christmas staple, ‘O Holy Night’, in in a voice so strong and vibrant it filled every corner of the house, and made the hairs on Blue’s arms tingle. She followed up with a couple of more jazzy Christmas numbers, and after the applause and whistles died down, she handed over to Uncle Marvin, who got everyone stamping and singing along to a lively Christmas Calypso song so laced with heavy intonation that Blue couldn’t figure half the words, although alcohol seemed to feature heavily in the lyrics.

“Drink A Rum,” Green explained, “A very old Caribbean Christmas song. Uncle Marvin told me it was sung by the early immigrants to Great Britain to cheer themselves up. They couldn’t get used to the damp, grey climate in December.”

“Can’t say I blame them,” Blue replied. His last trip to London had been nothing but drizzle and leaden skies, and that was in the middle of summer.

More members of the family got up in turn to belt out more songs with panache. He glanced at his watch. These Samuels certainly loved to party. He leaned across and nudged Green, still firmly planted on the sofa next to her grandmother. She’d barely moved all evening.

“Aren’t you going to sing?” he said.

She looked doubtful for a moment.

“Uh-oh, looks like you don’t have a choice; here comes your Uncle Marvin.”

The older man practically waltzed over to the sofa with the microphone. “Come on, Serena, we want to hear your glorious voice, it’s been too long.”

“Uncle Marvin, I’m – not really in the mood,”

He looked baffled. “Eh-heh, not in the mood? It’s Christmas Eve, you’ve always sung at Christmas when you’ve been in Trini...” he trailed off and slid his eyes sideways to Blue, as if understanding dawned.

Blue couldn’t help it. He blurted out: “I’d like to hear her glorious voice too.” – before he could stop himself.

She shook her head and gave a helpless smile.

Mooma Samuels added her voice to the chorus. “And that makes three of us. Come on, girl, don’t tell me you’ve let your voice go – that’s a criminal waste.”

Green rose from the sofa, and graciously accepted the microphone from her Uncle Marvin. As she headed off to the karaoke machine, the old lady leaned over in his direction – said loudly, “That girl was never frontish, never liked being the centre of attention, but she has her mother’s talent all right.”

Serena was in conversation with her cousin, manning the machine, and then she turned to the expectant crowd. The room fell silent, and even in the dim light he could see her lick her lips.

The introduction kicked in for a few bars, and then, then she began to sing. “I'm doing my Christmas dreaming a little early this year. No sign of snow around, and yet I go around. Hearing jingle bells, ringing in my ear...”

Green’s voice wasn’t as polished or as powerful as her mother’s, but that didn’t matter. As she lost her inhibitions and leant into the emotion of the lyrics, her voice became passionate, soulful, and his own body responded with a series of electric tingles that flowed from the top of his head down his arms and along his spine.

When the last notes floated away, the room erupted in applause and cheering. She nodded her thanks, her gaze flitting across the room until it rested on him and studied him with an intensity that he couldn’t quite fathom. He felt his stomach tighten in response, felt that familiar yearning to take her in his arms.

“Wow,” he said, when she returned to his side.

She rolled her eyes. “Just, stop.”

“Serena, it’s hardly something to be reticent about, I mean, it isn’t like your secret vice is pole dancing, for Pete’s sake.”

She looked at him, sideways, he waggled his eyebrows and she finally snorted out a giggle.

A movement caught his eye, and he looked past Green to see the old lady gently slip over to one side, her head dropping forward. “Uh, Serena, I think your grandma’s about done.”

Green turned, made a soft sucking noise and swiftly took a few steps to help her.

“What... what’s happening,” she murmured in confusion, “Are you going to sing again, Serena?”

“No, Mooma,” Green said, stroking her arm. “I’m probably going to head for my bed, like you should be doing.”

Charmaine appeared from the crowd, a concern furrowing her brow as she bent down to check on her mother. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her have another glass of ponche de crème.”

“She’ll be all right?” Green asked.

“Yes, she’s just a little tipsy.” She shook her head, as if this wasn’t the first time. “Aunt Charity and I will take her to bed.”

“I’ll help.”

Blue leant across. “Serena, I’ll just head off, it’s getting late and I don’t want the hotel to give my room away.”

Charmaine waved a hand at Green. “You go see Adam out, I’ll manage Mooma.” She blew a kiss at Blue. “It was lovely to meet you Adam, see you again tomorrow.”

He grinned. “Thanks for the great party.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

He and Serena squeezed past a group of revellers in the hallway, who nodded and grinned and patted his back with a series of friendly goodbyes. “Great to meet you, man', come back soon to Trini'.”

They stood outside; the door closed just enough to drown out the sounds within.

“Your family sure like to party,” Blue said.

“Now you know why I like the peace and quiet of Skybase.”

“I can see why you might find this all a bit – much, at times.”

“I was worried about you, too; being thrown into someone else’s family celebrations on Christmas Eve. But I have to admit, Adam, you acquitted yourself admirably. In fact, I’d say that certain members of my family actually think the sun shines out of your – ears.”

Blue grinned. “She's some lady, your grandmother, and so's your mom, in fact, I'd say I've just met three generations of female grit and sass.”

Green raised a dark eyebrow. “Sass?” she replied drily, but a sudden twinkle in her brown eyes sent his heart skipping.

Yeah, full of sass, and sexy as hell in that tight tee and jeans, and as his eyes skimmed over those curves, it sent his thoughts wandering over a decidedly un-professional path. Just a few inches separated them and his gaze dropped a fraction to her full lips; all he had to do was lean forward. But those few inches might well have been a yawning chasm. If he followed through with his desperate desire to kiss her, he was going to cross a line that would change everything between them forever.

Green’s eyes widened - and it jolted him out of his reverie like a plunge into a frigid lake.

He cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment. “Uh - well - I - guess I'd better go,” he said, “Are you going to be okay?”

She didn't answer for a few seconds - and he could have sworn that the surprise in her eyes had been replaced by a look of - well he wasn’t absolutely sure, but it looked really like - disappointment.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she replied at last. “in fact, I’m completely whacked, so I think I’ll head for bed.”

He rocked on his heels, feeling like a five-star idiot. “Good, I mean, not that you’re whacked, but that you’ll be okay, and tomorrow?”

She’d crossed her arms across her midsection. To ward him off? Not that he blamed her, he’d behaved like some drunk-sotted boor, despite not actually drinking anything.

“Now that I’m actually here, I think I’ll be able to deal with it.”

He nodded. “Great. You know, sometimes, the fear of the unknown, is sometimes worse than the reality.”

Her eyes seemed to glitter. “You’re right, as always.”

And still they hovered on the porch, neither seemingly keen to end the conversation, and he wondered - should he hug her, kiss her on the cheek? How difficult had this all become all of a sudden? He finally took the coward's way out and gave her a loose salute of farewell.

“Uh, hope you get some sleep, Serena. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” she echoed back, and he felt her eyes on him all the way down the path and while he unlocked the car, got in and fired up the engine. He glanced left - yeah, she was still there, arms folded, in the pale light of the streetlamp.

He drove back to the hotel, barely aware of his surroundings, replaying the last few moments in his head, the whole damn trip, in fact, knowing that he’d come close to a decision in his head, and wasn’t sure what in hell to do about it. He smacked the wheel in frustration. It wasn’t easy to throw off centuries of tradition; of obeying the rules. And more importantly, he had to consider Serena's position - she was the colonel's right-hand woman, and she'd got to that point by being a consummate professional, so why the hell would such a smart woman like her want to screw up her career for a battle-scarred soldier like him? He ignored the little annoying voice in the back of his head that told him he was just terrified she'd blow him off. Maybe he didn’t want to be just another guy afraid of making a damn fool of himself.

The sun filtered through the slatted blinds on the bedroom wall finally woke Green from her d But it was the birdsong that brought her to full awareness, to the fact that sreamless sleep.he was not on Skybase, but Trinidad, with its unique sounds and smells and honest-to-goodness real warmth.

Trinidad on Christmas Day. With Adam. It would be a Blue Christmas...

She sighed at her pathetic joke, rolled sideways and glanced quickly at the clock. Nine-forty-five. She was practically becoming a sloth.

However, she didn’t rise from the bed straight away, just lay there, amid the sounds of the birds and the encroaching aroma of cooking turkey and ham, that suggested her mom was already up. She mused on the fickle nature of the human mind. She’d been dreading this meeting alone with her mother, and yet, it had been hijacked in part by a new swirl of emotions following the events of last night. Could she have been mistaken? For one heart-stopping moment she really thought he’d been about to kiss her.

But he hadn’t. He’d pulled back and had obviously thought better of the idea, and all she could do was stand there like an idiot and watch him go.

How ironic, because as long as she believed Adam didn’t reciprocate her more than platonic feelings, she could safely resist the temptation to cross that hidden line. But with one smouldering look, he’d inadvertently unlocked a tsunami of desire and feelings that she’d kept carefully under control.

She didn’t have a lot of experience about making difficult choices when it came to men, it had pretty much been them doing all the running, when she could be bothered even dating. Losing her dad so early in her life had made her reticent about investing her emotions in a significant other, and by the time the hormones really kicked in, she was too focused on her studies and then her brilliant career, to be side-tracked with anything more than a cursory relationship on a physical level.

Was she now prepared to compromise everything she’d strived for? She grudgingly admitted to herself that she was no longer so sure.

She couldn’t put off going downstairs any longer, so she threw herself quickly under the shower, the rain-like water jets driving the last vestiges of sleep away and then padded softly down the staircase to find her mother in the kitchen, with her back to Green, brandishing a wooden spoon like a makeshift drumstick, and swaying to some bouncy Christmas jazz from the house mood music. She stood in the open doorway, feeling strangely awkward, her heart beating a little faster, so she took several long breaths to steady herself.

She could do this.

Charmaine finally sensed her presence and turned. She turned down the volume of the music, and laid the spoon on the worktop. Both women moved towards one another to meet half-way in an embrace. The encounter wasn’t as fraught as she’d imagined it would be.

“Happy Christmas, Sweet-pea, did you sleep well?”

Green nodded against her mother’s hair. “I did, thanks.”

Charmaine drew away and gently stroked Green’s face. “I’m glad to see that you look a lot brighter than you did when we last spoke.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you see on a vid-screen, Mom.”

“I suppose not. Still, I hope they’re not working you too hard.”

“They’re not. Oh, it smells divine in here,” Green said, to deflect the conversation from her health. “I always missed your cooking - I still do.”

Charmaine beamed at her compliment. “Your cafeteria food up there not much good, huh?”

“It’s not bad, but cooking for that many people, it’s difficult to make it taste the same as something home-made.”

“Sure, it does.”

“Is Mooma up yet?

“No, I thought I’d let her sleep, last night took it out of her. It’s my fault, I should have taken more notice, I think I was just so excited to hear you sing again. So, would you like coffee? I’ve just made a fresh pot, and then you can help me with the rice and roasted vegetables. Aunt Charity is bringing dessert so I only have to think about the main course.”

“Sure, be happy to. I’m sorry I wasn’t up earlier to help.”

“You’re on holiday, you deserve a lie-in.”

Green smiled fondly and helped herself to a cup of the fragrant, steaming brew from the cafetiere while Charmaine bent down and pulled out a pot and tray from the cupboard below.

“There you go, there isn’t much more to do, then you can go and get changed for your young man.”

Green managed a nonchalant response. “He’s hardly my young man, Mom; he’s someone I work with, remember?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just, you both seemed – so comfortable with one another last night. I could have sworn...”

“We are – comfortable; he’s a good friend as well as a colleague.”

“Well, I’m pleased about that, it’s a wonderful thing to have people you can trust in your life. I know none of it’s my business, but I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, Mom.”

“Well, that’s all that matters.” She picked up the spoon to stir the contents of the pot on the stove, and Green took a quiet breath, held it for three seconds to calm herself.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Sweet-pea?”

“I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye about things...”

“Oh, that is true...”

“And I haven’t always been a perfect daughter...”

Charmaine turned and gave Green a considered look. “Nobody’s perfect, Serena, least of all me. The years have been – difficult for both of us, and we’re all just flawed souls trying to do the best we can with the cards life deals us.”

“I know, but what I’m trying to say, is that I never really understood how hard it was for you while - Dad was away on missions.” There, she managed to say his name in the conversation without falling to pieces.

Charmaine’s eyes grew solemn. “How could you? You were a child.”

“And I continued to behave like one for well into my teens. I’m sorry, for that, and any other pain I put you through when I was growing up. I’ve been thinking about it, recently, before I came to Trini. And I don’t want to leave before telling you. I want you to know that I’m so grateful for everything you sacrificed for me.”

Charmaine put the spoon down. There was a bright glitter in her brown eyes.

“Loving your daughter isn’t a sacrifice, it’s a privilege.” She reached across to smooth Green’s still-damp hair away from her forehead.

“I love you, Mom and if I haven’t said it enough, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who needs to apologise. I tried to discourage you from following your dreams because I was afraid, rather than trying to understand what you wanted and needed. I know it sometimes drove a wedge between us and I regret that. But I want you to know I’m so proud, of the woman you’ve become. You were always so clever, but now, I see how self-assured and poised you are... despite everything you’ve been through.”

Green felt her eyes swell with unshed tears, and unable to speak, fearing all at once that she might crumble and say those other things she might regret, threw her arms around Charmaine’s waist, and buried her head against her shoulder. She hugged her mother as if the physical power of a loving embrace could encapsulate what was impossible to articulate in words. A long moment passed as they held one another, and Green imagined all the misunderstandings and silly arguments over the years sloughed away, leaving only a calm, shared forgiveness.

“Thank you, Serena,” Charmaine whispered against her hair.

“So, what are you planning to wear today?” Charmaine asked a little while later as they continued to cut up vegetables for the rice. The emotional catharsis had quietly – and somewhat blessedly – mutated into an easy-going rapport between them.

“I’d thought about bringing a dress, but I thought – I didn’t want to go overboard.”

“It’s Christmas, everyone goes overboard.” She stopped peeling and gave Green a perceptive look. “Why don’t you have a look in the closet in the guest room, some of my stage dressers will fit you I’m sure.”

Green looked dubious.

“Well, I can understand if you don’t want to wear my cast-offs, but they are clean, you know.”

“It’s not that. I just...”

“Oh, and here I go again, trying to get you to do what I want. I really ought to mind my own business.”

Green laughed. “It’s all right, Mom, I know you’re just trying to help.”

“Well, there’s no pressure, do what feels right. I’m happy whatever you choose.”

Green was pretty sure her mother wasn’t fooled by her assertion of disinterest in her male colleague. Wise, as well as stoic, she saw her through a whole different lens this trip home.

She found a small smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

Green sat at the old dressing table in the guest-room and gazed at her reflection in the glass. Her hair was okay – it never really did what she wanted, but she’d straightened it and tucked it behind her ears with some fixing mousse and applied a little mascara.

She stood up, smoothing the close-fitting green-sequined dress down over her hips. Such a colour cliché, but it was the only one that fitted perfectly. She had to admit that she looked amazing in it.

Do what feels right.

She had never been one to over dress to impress a guy, and here she was, considering that very thing. She frowned slightly and turned away from her reflection, irritated with herself. What was she hoping for - that mascara and a pretty dress would make Adam Svenson betray his principles and forget his obligations to Spectrum? She let out a small sigh, tried to talk herself out of her suddenly dismal mood. God, she was capricious these days, her emotions a rollercoaster. You have a great life, lots of women would envy you. And no one can have everything.

But it was no use. She was not only trying to deceive her mother, but herself. She finally had to admit that all she wanted for Christmas was one person, just one specific captain who was able to make her smile and feel as if the world was wonderful with little more than a glance, and who recently occupied far too many of her waking thoughts.

The doorbell jangled, and her mom called from downstairs. “Serena, can you get that? I’m just getting Mooma up.”

“Sure,” she called back.

She hadn’t worn heels in a while, and the dress was pretty snug, so she made her way carefully down the stairs. She opened the door and there he stood, looking casual yet smart in dark-blue chinos and a pale-blue chambray shirt, the collar unbuttoned in deference to the noonday heat of the day. He stared at her, his eyes roving from her head to her toes, open-mouthed, a spectrum of emotions flitting across his face in microseconds.

“Too much?” she said, breaking the spell.

He finally found his voice. “Serena, you look – amazing.”

“Is that Aunt Charity?” Charmaine’s voice called out into the hall.

They unlocked eyes, while her mouth dried up and her heart thudded. “No, it’s Adam,” she called back, hearing the slight waver in her voice.

A small frown appeared on Blue’s brow. “Have I arrived too early?”

“No, you’re fine. Come in.”

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled, as if that flash of whatever hadn't just passed between them. “I was driving around for ages trying to find somewhere open. Thankfully, I found a gas station and they actually had a really nice store.” He held out the large bag bulging with assorted goodies: cookies and chocolates, tins of herbal fruit teas, a bottle of the ubiquitous ponche de crème.

Green's heart was still beating fast as she took the bag. “Naturally, the gas station. The last refuge of the disorganised male at birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you? I just didn’t want to come totally empty-handed.”

Because she simply, finally, couldn’t help herself, she bestowed a quick, chaste kiss on his freshly shaven cheek.

“Happy Christmas, Adam.”

His eyebrows flew up in surprise for a second. “Happy Christmas to you, too. I saw a bit of the coast as I was driving around, looks really nice.”

“It is pretty, and if you wanted to, we could go for a drive later and look around. It seems silly coming all the way to Trinidad and only seeing the hotel and my mom’s house.”

“Well, I’m not here for the sightseeing,” he replied, and then his face turned serious. “Did everything go okay with you and your mom after I left?”

“Yes, it did. No, it was more than okay; we had a heart-to-heart. It was precious, wonderful.”

His eyes crinkled. “I’m really glad.”

“And I have you to thank for it.”

“Uh, no, you don’t. I’m just the taxi driver, you did all the hard work.”

“There you go again, underestimating yourself. Not to mention spending half your salary on a plane ticket for a barely three-day trip. You’ve helped me more than you know. Thank you.”

He gave her that lopsided smile that made her stomach flutter. “It’s worth every dollar to see you looking a million times better than before we left Skybase.”

Blue followed Green into the kitchen where Charmaine greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm thank-you for his gifts. She allowed him to help her retrieve the turkey out of the oven, and then dispatched both him and Serena to the dining room to set the table.

He found Serena’s grandmother already there.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just waiting here for the food,” she said.

“Merry Christmas, ma’am.”

“Oh, it will be when I can have a glass of ponche de crème. Charmaine won’t let me have one before I’ve had any food though.”

Blue chuckled, while Serena opened a drawer in a long sideboard and pulled out silverware and napkins, and they both moved around the table in one another’s orbit, starting to lay the settings out, while his veins buzzed with adrenaline.

She'd done something to her hair - and perfume, she never wore perfume.

And that dress.

She was definitely not playing by the rules.

It had been no more than a peck, but the gentle heat of her lips against his face and her hand, light on his arm, had all but poleaxed him. Sweet liberty – how he wanted to kiss her back, to feel her mouth soften beneath his. To take her in arms... to touch her...

She glanced up from the table, as if his rambling thoughts had appeared like speech bubbles above his head, his emotions out there for all to see. Their eyes locked, and this time, there was no mistaking the look that blossomed in her brown eyes - like a mirror to his own – her expression a vivid mixture of uncertainty and need.

God help them both.

She dropped her gaze a fraction, fumbling a fork, and her tongue flickered over her lips, and he felt as if he’d stopped breathing.

The intense moment passed – and they carried on laying the table, conscious of Serena’s grandmother sitting but a few feet away – but everything had changed, for Blue at least.

He'd always imagined that if he admitted to her how he felt, he'd see something like shock, or embarrassment on her face. He’d imagined that look a lot recently, to cool the heat that had been building for the past few months, using it to persuade himself there was no chance for a romantic relationship between them. Now, as he struggled to regain his composure, he was filled with a desperation to have her both physically and emotionally.

And dammit - she did too, he would swear to it.

The atmosphere was punctured by a loud harumph from Mooma Samuels. They both looked towards the couch to see her unsuccessfully attempting to haul herself off it.

“Damn this body,” she muttered.

“Mooma, stop, you’ll hurt yourself,” Green said with concern in her voice. She glanced at Blue, who immediately crossed over to help the old lady up and to a seat at the table.

She patted his arm when he settled her in place. “Thank you, young man, I like to make sure I’m not stuck at the end of the table where I can’t hear the gossip.”

Blue grinned broadly.

The doorbell jangled loudly.

“That’s probably my Aunt Charity and Uncle Joseph,” Green said, “I’ll go get them, Mom’s probably up to her ears in food.”

“You do that,” her grandmother replied. “Adam will keep me company. He can tell me all about your adventures in Spectrum.”

“Sure, ma’am,” he said, “I’ll be happy to keep you company. But I'm afraid I can't discuss anything about our work, it's all classified.”

“Well, you can make it up, I don't mind,” she retorted, with an impish look. Blue chuckled and Green cupped a hand over her mouth to stop laughing out loud.

He couldn’t help watching her passage out of the room, at the motion of her hips swaying under the tight-fitting dress. Wasn’t the first time he’d subliminally ogled that movement, he was ashamed to admit, but this time it wasn’t simply a male’s Pavlov response. Desire was there for sure, but overlaid with tenderness and all whole other raft of emotions he couldn’t even begin to sort out in his head.

Soft, wrinkled fingers stole across the table and patted his hand. “I know it's very naughty of me, but I couldn't help watching the pair of you; might as well have been walking around with big neon signs above your heads.”

Blue cleared his throat with embarrassment. Had they been that obvious?

“Serena keeps her emotions under control,” Mooma Samuels said, regarding him with understanding in those twinkling brown eyes, “She's like her father in that respect, but I can see she likes you very much, and you obviously feel the same way about her.”

“We're just colleagues, Ma'am,” he replied, aware how pathetic that sounded, even to him, but he owed it to Serena to maintain the pretence.

“Of course, you are. But that doesn't stop the feelings between a man and a woman, does it? I know I shouldn't have been so nosy, but people watching is about as much fun as I get these days.”

He couldn’t help grinning, then added more seriously. “Whatever you think, there's too much at stake for Serena to have a relationship beyond work. She has a brilliant career in Spectrum, and it means so much to her.”

“You respect her, that's a wonderful thing, and she'll appreciate that, even if she might not admit it straight out.” Now it was the old lady's turn for a small sigh. “I never saw as much of my grand-daughter as I would have liked over the years, but that fiercely independent spirit of hers was something no one could miss. I saw how often it fuelled the arguments between her and Charmaine over the years following Robert's disappearance.”

“I’d never do anything to upset or hurt her in any way, she's been through enough in her life.”

“Oh, I believe you, Adam. You seem like a good man. Just don’t assume that she doesn’t need love like the rest of us.” She patted his hand again. “And don’t be so sure you’re the one with all the right answers.”

The food was carried through, bottles were opened and glasses filled, then everyone settled down in their chairs to enjoy the feast. Green was seated across from Adam, so she couldn’t avoid looking at him directly. He’d smiled at her in an enigmatic way that made her itch to find out what exactly had been discussed between him and her grandmother.

The chatter rose and fell as everyone helped themselves to the laden plates of turkey, glazed ham, rice and vegetables. They were eight altogether, with Serena’s aunt and uncle and her cousins Kyle and Brianna. Green ate, enjoying her mom’s delicious food and listening to the gossip, every now and then glancing in Adam’s direction, and every time she did, she was sure that everyone in the room could read the emotions written all over her face.

It was a strangely domestic scene; she could almost pretend they were a proper couple, but it would all end tomorrow when they returned to Skybase. She knew she wanted to return to work, but at the same time she felt that things had taken such a strange turn, and she ached for more time to explore what was happening between her and the man sitting opposite.

And the man was in his element, as Uncle Joseph and Kyle engaged him in a typical boys’ discussion of anything with wheels and wings, and she was impressed at Adam’s adroitness in describing the various Spectrum vehicles and aircraft without giving too much away. Not that there was any likelihood that any knowledge they gleaned could be used for dark purposes, but these days, anything was possible. That reminder, of the Mysterons and their perverse ways, broke rudely into her thoughts. They were still out there, beyond their idyllic family gathering on this island, and she tried to suppress a shiver at the horrifying image of her Uncle Joseph being murdered and recreated to do their bidding.

Adam, in mid-chat to Kyle, picked up on it straight away. His expression was curious, questioning, as if he could almost read her thoughts – as if their minds were tethered.

She gave him a small smile to reassure him, and he returned it, sending warm flushes through her body. He turned again to give his attention to Kyle, and she allowed herself a tiny proprietorial feeling of satisfaction at the way he seemed so at ease with her family. The desire she’d glimpsed in his eyes in the dining room hadn’t dissipated, it was still there, like gently banked embers, but overlaid by a sense of discretion.

She tingled with anticipation, suddenly desperate to be alone with him before their time together ran out. She also became aware of Mooma’s conspiratorial interest. Nothing fooled her grandmother, and she quickly picked up her glass of sorrel and sipped it to cover her sudden embarrassment.

By the time the pudding was served: bowls of mango in coconut milk, lime meringue pie and slabs of rich, sweet black cake, even Blue had to admit defeat. Green was beginning to regret wearing the figure-hugging dress, which got ever tighter as the meal progressed. Still, she figured it was worth it -the look on Adam’s face had been priceless, and perhaps – just perhaps - if there was a deity up there somewhere, the dress’s job wasn’t quite complete yet.

Once the last dish had been loaded into the dishwasher, and the scent of coffee filled the air, everyone moved into the sitting area and collapsed onto the couches and chairs for a round of present giving. After a while, Blue excused himself to take a phone call from his brother Luke in San Diego. Charmaine set the mood music to some gentle unobtrusive jazz, and then sat down with her tablet. It wasn't long before the effects of that huge meal began to be felt amongst the occupants.

Green felt like nodding off herself, lulled by the music and her over-indulgence, although both she and Adam had stuck to the one glass of alcoholic sorrel at dinner. She didn't dare drink any more - her inhibitions during the last twenty-four hours had been loosened far enough already.

She glanced up as the door opened, and the constant object of her thoughts quietly entered the room again. He wore an amused expression at the group of semi-comatose bodies, then crossed over to sit down beside her on the big couch, next to a softly snoring Mooma Samuels.

“You looked like you were about to head to the Land of Nod yourself,” he teased her gently.

She sniffed. “Well, what's the point of Christmas if you can't over-indulge?”

She sat up straight, all thoughts of tiredness vanishing when she noticed the small gift-wrapped box nestled in one hand. Her heart fluttered in expectation when he passed it to her, clearing his throat, a little nervously, she thought. She unwrapped it, to reveal a pair of exquisite stud earrings; within their blue-black depths a tiny galaxy of stars sparkled and shimmered.

“I know they're a bit flashier than you normally wear on duty...” he began, then trailed off, as if unsure of the appropriateness of the gift.

“Oh, Adam, they're so beautiful... no one's ever given me...” she looked up - saw the obvious relief mingling with delight on his face, and she had the most desperate urge to throw her arms around him and show him exactly how she felt. Instead, she reached down to the side of the couch to pick up the last unwrapped present in the room.

“This is for you. Merry Christmas.”

He accepted the box with a grave expression, opened it up and pulled out a silver Saint Christopher medal on a link chain. He held it up to the light, gazing at it as if it was the most extraordinary thing he'd ever seen.

“For when you go out on a mission,” she said softly, “To bring you back safely to Skybase.” And to me, she added as a silent afterthought.

Blue gently settled the medallion back in its tissue wrapping and Green slipped on the earrings with fingers that had trembled slightly. The tranquillity in the room seemed to have stilled them both, trapping them in a moment that neither dared break. When he finally spoke, his voice had a husky edge that sent an odd thrill through her.

“So, this sightseeing you promised me? I’d like to see a bit more of the coast, if you don’t think your mom would mind us leaving so soon. I don’t mind driving, I’m well within my limits.”

Her stomach fluttered. She felt light-headed. This was it, the opportunity. All she had to do was grasp it.

“I'm sure she wouldn't.” She managed to quell the tremor in her voice. “We could drive along to Chaguaramas, the boardwalk is really special at this time of year.”

Not to mention romantic.

She rose from the couch, Adam following in her wake, and padded across to Charmaine, who remained - at least outwardly - engrossed in her tablet. Green was grateful for her mother's discretion during the intimate exchange of gifts a few moments ago.

“Mom, were going to take a drive along to Chaguaramas, if that's okay with you. I thought it might be nice if Adam saw a little bit of the coast before, we go back.”

Charmaine peered up at them over her reading glasses, and there was a shrewd yet satisfied look in her eyes as they rested briefly on Green's new earrings. “Well, sure it is, Sweet-pea. Should be quiet on the boardwalk just now for a stroll. Almost wish I could join you but I ain't moving from this comfy perch until all this food settles down.”

“I really enjoyed the meal, ma'am,” Blue said, “and I hope you don’t think I’m being an ungrateful guest for leaving so soon.”

“Oh, I'd never think that,” she replied. “You are welcome back here anytime.”

The two of them fell oddly quiet as Blue drove, as if they knew they were heading towards something forbidden, something dangerous, and were weighed down with the knowledge. Savannah Park was almost deserted, save for a few dog walkers, all the food stalls closed. It appeared the majority of residents were at home, enjoying the fulsome aftermath of the celebration.

Blue gripped the wheel tightly, having second thoughts as he turned onto the shore road, going west. He could have stopped this in its tracks, instead of adding fuel to a fire that was already starting to smoulder out of control.

God, he was half in love with her already, he couldn't help it, couldn't even stop it if he tried. And after today, he was beginning to think that she felt the same way about him. But did that give him the right to express his feelings? It didn't change anything about their respective positions. Tomorrow they'd get on that airplane and then a Swift at Washington National and it would be back to their jobs. Saving the world from the Mysteron menace. A job that was too damn important to have something as awkward as romantic attachments get in the way.

His lips finally curled in a wry smile; he'd have felt less nervous facing down a Mysteron threat right now, for Pete's sake.

She must have noticed, said: “Penny for them?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Just thinking about work.” It wasn't entirely a lie.

He could sense the small frown on her face. “I guess,” she replied in a thoughtful tone. “That's the thing about a vacation, short or otherwise, you have to get back to reality at some point.”

And that gave them both pause again. Reality meant rules, regulations and all that they entailed for the attachment that was blossoming between them.

“Still, all things considered, it's a great job,” she said. “I feel like I'm making a difference in the world, even if most of the time I'm sitting behind a desk.”

“Well, I 'm glad you're behind it; that way I know for sure someone's there I can trust to make sure my ass is pulled out of the fire when I get in trouble.”

She gave a short shrug. “Thanks for the compliment, but sometimes I think it would be nice to get out on a mission sometime.”

Blue wasn't sure how he felt about that, not after what had happened in New Mexico, and that brought him up sharp. He hated that he didn’t immediately agree with her wistful wish. What right did he have anyway, to deny her the undeniable thrill and satisfaction of field work? After all, he knew from experience she had the courage and determination to succeed at it.

A sudden beat of unease mingled with the incessant thrum of craving that had occupied his mind and body for the last few days. He glanced at her as she stared ahead to the road, perhaps lost in some thoughts of a future mission as a Spectrum agent. She looked as beautiful as he'd ever seen her, and he was ashamed to admit that he wanted her utterly with every fibre of his being and to hell with the regulations.

They'd lapsed into silence after she talked about her interest in field work, and Green wondered if she'd said the wrong thing. Damn! It was so difficult, tiptoeing around their feelings in this dangerous new present of theirs.

They soon approached their destination; a sheltered bay with a thin crescent of golden sand and a wide boardwalk lined with trees. The place wasn't overly crowded, a few couples and families strolling off Christmas lunch. Dusk was falling and all the trees along the path were strung with multi-coloured Christmas lights that reflected and sparkled in the waters of the wide bay. They got out of the car in the parking lot and Blue looked around.

“Nice. Real nice. So, this is the place to be?”

“Yes, there are bigger beaches on the island, but they’re quite far north. Normally this place is heaving on the run up to Christmas with parang bands and food stalls, but this is a nice time – it’s fairly quiet.”

“Well, I’m glad of the walk. Don’t get me wrong, that lunch was fantastic, but I feel like a stuffed turkey. I'm going to have to fast for three days when I get back to Skybase.”

She stiffened slightly, at that reminder of who they were, and it lowered her mood too. They ambled along the start of the boardwalk, accompanied by the sound of the waves lapping against the sand.

Adam seemed reflective, perhaps even withdrawn, since they’d left the house and driven to the bay, and the sudden switch in the emotional atmosphere left her in confusion. She regretted not having greater insight into the male mind on the subject of romantic interactions, but she hadn’t exactly gotten honours in that particular life-class.

They walked together. Six inches apart, yet a million miles away.

She felt the psychological distance as a physical ache, and yet, she only had herself to blame. She could have refused his offer to accompany her down to Trinidad; avoided putting them both in a compromising situation away from the trappings that allowed them to maintain a professional distance.

But she could no longer fight that distance, and the feelings had become only more insistent here in Trinidad. She could still feel the heat in her face; at the way he’d almost devoured her with his eyes in that intense moment in the dining room – she would wager her two degrees that he wanted her every bit as much as she craved him.

But impulse and logic were too different animals. She had to put herself in his position. Unsolicited romantic overtures could still be career-ending, and despite all the hard-won equality for both sexes, the man still often came off worse in a harassment case. So, she reasoned, if she wanted anything in their fledging relationship to progress, it was up to her – it would be unfair of her to expect him to risk his career and reputation when he couldn’t be absolutely sure of her feelings for him. After all, hadn’t she convinced herself many times that there was no more between them than friendship?

She swallowed hard and finally made her decision. The time for deliberation was past, it was time for action.

About halfway along its length, the boardwalk split, and a short half -moon shaped section of boardwalk inclined left, slightly down to the sea while the main route continued above. Serendipitously, a single empty bench at the half-way point beckoned lovers to sit. With a hitched breath, Green boldly slipped the fingers of her right hand into Adam’s left, pulling him towards it.

“Let's go sit there for a little bit and watch the waves,” she said, and as his fingers tightened almost convulsively around hers in response, it started another flutter in her stomach.

He hadn’t pulled away, he hadn’t flinched.

They sat down on the bench under the twilight sky, staring out to the gently rolling waters. He still clasped her hand and she savoured the warmth of his fingers around hers, his thumb moving gently across her knuckles. She'd never felt this way before - perched at the edge of something - so exhilarating, so frightening, knowing that if they were to take the next step over the line it could never be re-drawn. An involuntary shiver went through her and he must have felt it, because he glanced sideways.

“You okay? You're not cold?” he asked, and his voice had turned a shade huskier. His chest rose and fell under the chambray shirt, and he licked his lips slightly, drawing her gaze to them, the heat between them ratcheting up another notch.

“I'm not cold, but I’m always okay with you, Adam,” she replied, charging the words with feeling - holding his gaze unflinchingly - willing him to step over the threshold with her. Now her mouth was turning dry, her heart thumping in exquisite anticipation, and still he held back, wrestling with himself, his pale eyes darkening, fixed on her face, his lips slightly parted.

This time she wasn't going to let him step back.

“Oh, for God's sake, just kiss me,” she blurted out,” Before you give us both heart failure.”

His mouth quirked – and his eyes filled with the joyous relief of someone given permission for that one thing they've always wanted. But still, he didn’t move. Instead, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you really sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” she hissed, giddy with unresolved tension.

He leant in, his shadow blocking out the reflections on the water, and then his lips were on hers and it was gentle, careful - all that pent-up testosterone under control - and she figured she might as well have stopped breathing altogether, suspended in time.

He pulled back slightly.

“More,” she insisted, emboldened, eyes half closed in bliss, “Don't stop.”

She felt him smile against her lips, and he shifted on the bench so he could wrap his left arm around her, pulling her closer. She moved against him willingly, and this time, there was no cold polymer armour separating them. Instead, there was the warm solidity of his body against hers. Half sighing - she was rendered dizzy by his proximity, of his scent - hints of shampoo and shaving cream and something else that she could only define as him - and then his jaw scraped her cheek and her pulse fluttered and soared as his hot mouth closed over hers.

There was no hesitation on his part now; and the world shrank away as his fingers cupped her cheek and she succumbed to a deep, intoxicating kiss that changed everything between them forever. At last, there was no more room for thinking and deliberating.

There was only feeling - and wanting.

It was Blue who finally had to pull away - the sweet, overwhelming sensation of her tongue melding with his was playing merry havoc with his hormones, and he was dimly aware that they were in a public place and couldn't get up to the sort of things his body was urging.

Also - he needed to breathe.

He pulled away a fraction, and studied her expression. Her eyes gleamed in the fading light, and she looked - serene. Serene Serena. He grinned inanely, finding his little witticism amusing, as inebriates often do. Yep, that kiss was the equivalent of about ten glasses of ponche de crème and he could easily become addicted. Did she have any idea how much she affected him? He could barely inhale, because the air around him was saturated with the scent of her. He was blown away by that look on her face – goddammit, he’d put it there.

He’d really had no idea.

“That was nice.” She smiled back at him, her voice a breathy whisper.

“Nice - is one heck of an understatement.” Still half-drunk with her taste and the warmth emanating from her pliant body, he leaned in again to capture those delectable lips.

Their noses bumped, and they laughed softly, their breath mingling. Her eyes drifted shut again, so he accepted the invitation and dipped his mouth to hers, and it was long and slow and languorous, like the waves rolling onto the sand beyond their feet. She clung to him, and he pulled her as tight as their awkward position allowed, wanting to feel as much of her sinewy body against his as decorum dictated. God in heaven, how good she tasted, how perfect she felt in his arms...

A sudden sharp twinge in his side made him hiss softly.

“Are you okay?” It was her turn to be concerned.

He regretfully moved his numb arm from around her shoulder. “Yeah, I think I just got a crick.” He rubbed the offending muscle in his left side.

“Here, let me,” she said, and began to massage gently, and he was happy to allow her, enjoying way too much the feel of her fingers easing out the spasm. He closed his eyes, imagination taking over - how it might feel like to have her hands on his bare skin, and his on hers, and - whoa - getting ahead of yourself, buddy.

A momentary rush of guilt made him straighten up, so her hand fell away from his side – and he looked away, towards the sea.

“What's wrong, Adam?”

He didn’t answer immediately, rendered confused by his own mercurial moods. This had never happened before, when he'd wanted a woman he'd just charged in - all guns blazing, but this - with Serena - was way more complicated. Her needs and wants mattered more to him than anything he sought in the blinding haze of sexual arousal. Perhaps he was just older and less callow, perhaps it was something – else entirely. She’d become absurdly precious to him – and he didn’t want to foul it up.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, “I shouldn't have pushed you... but I had this crazy idea that you’ d thought of kissing me last night - and I couldn't bear the thought of returning to Skybase before...”

He looked sideways at her. “No, I needed a shove... I've just been too afraid.”

One of her eyebrows raised up in amusement. “Adam, shoot-first-ask-questions-later-Svenson, afraid?”

He gave her a wry smile. “Seriously, I've been chasing my tail in circles these past few months; thinking about the regs and your position, your career.”

“Me too. It was so hard, but I finally knew that you shouldn’t have to be the one to risk rejection...”

“I’m a big boy, I think I could take it. But there’s a whole lot more to this than my feelings. You're a smart woman, Serena, I don't want to jeopardize your future by getting involved with me.”

“I’m afraid you’re a bit late, Adam. I think I’ve been involved for a long time.”

“And you aren’t worried about the regs?” He had to ask, he had to push. To be sure she knew what was at risk.

She gave a tiny snort. “They haven't stopped some people.”

“Yeah, but we have them for a reason; what if everyone on Skybase just decided they were all going to have a relationship, what the hell would happen to morale and discipline when things went sour?”

“I know, it would be impossible. But in reality, I don’t see that happening, do you?”

“I guess not...” He trailed off. It sounded as if he was making excuses, but he knew for absolute certainty that he wouldn’t be the one to let this fizzle out when they returned to Skybase. But – he reminded himself, life had a way of throwing you curve-balls anyway.

“Look” she said, an imploring tone in her voice, “I’ve thought about it constantly too, but this evening I finally decided that my feelings for you are stronger than my concern about the rules. When you really think about it, what is the danger? We don't have direct reporting lines, and you’re not my commanding officer. Damn it, Simone and Paul seem to manage having some sort of intimacy without Skybase falling to earth or the world ending.”

“You haven’t mentioned what the colonel might do if he finds out.”

Her face twitched as cold, hard reality bit, then almost immediately, she raised her chin, defiant. “He doesn’t have to know; we can be discreet. I'm not one for big shows of public affection.”

“Neither am I. It would be tough, pretending there was nothing going on between us but I could do it. For you, for us.”

“Us,” she said in a suddenly soft voice. “I like the sound of that.”

A smile wreathed his face. “Me too.”

“Thank you for my present,” she reached up and touched one earring. “It was a wonderful surprise.”

He chuckled. “You have no idea how long I stood there trying to decide whether to buy them. I thought maybe it was a little too personal.”

“I was going to buy you a wallet, I didn’t think it was personal enough. I hope you don’t mind I bought you the medallion, it’s a silly superstition, but...”

“I love it.” He kissed the top of her head and put his arm around her to pull her close. “I promise I’ll wear it all the time. I need all the luck we can get.”

She laid one hand on his thigh, and he took it with is other, caressing it gently. The throbbing desire had ebbed a little, as they’d talked, but it was still there in his blood, and it wouldn’t take much to ignite it white-hot again.

The light was fading fast, and the waxing moon was a crescent sliver in the clear, darkening sky, and only the Christmas lights from the trees reflected across the lapping water, twinkling, reassuring. Green was filled with a quiet euphoria that permeated every inch of her skin. She’d received more than her fair share of wonderful presents this Christmas day. An overwhelming sense of awe stole over her as she gazed upwards –a sky beginning to fill with stars.

How quickly life could change. Only a few weeks ago she’d been driven to exhaustion by bad dreams and the tangled web of emotions in her past intruding on the present.

Now? She was near to becoming overwhelmed by other emotions.

Relief – at facing her fears.

Joy – at returning to the bosom of her maternal family home from a self-imposed estrangement.

Hope – encapsulated in the persona of the man who held her firmly in his strong embrace.

Peace.

After a while she said quietly: “So what were you and Mooma talking about, when I left you both in the dining room.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, she figured us out. Said we might as well have been broadcasting it out loud. She’s one sharp old lady.”

“Yes, she is. I imagine my mom isn’t fooled either, about us, I mean.”

“Does that bother you??”

She snuggled closer to him. “No. They like you. I like you.”

“I never meant for this to happen, Serena,” he said in an earnest voice that tugged at her heart. “Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I wanted it to, but my initial intentions were honest when I came down here with you. Maybe I had no damn right to interfere in your life, but I was convinced you needed to face whatever was causing your trauma, or it would keep haunting you. I know, because of what happened to me.”

She raised their joined hands, kissed his fingers entwined in hers. “Thank you. For being pushy. For coming here with me and braving my moods and my family. Thank-you for coming here and – giving me this.”

He turned to look at her and they shared a moment of such profound understanding. A lump in her throat grew, and her eyes grew shiny with unshed tears. This was too much, too much for anyone.

He untangled his fingers from hers.

“You're so beautiful, so incredible,” he murmured, tracing her cheek with his calloused fingertips, sending electric sparks along her spine. “I never thought I deserved you.”

“I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. I know I'm not the easiest person to - I mean, I can seem a little detached at times.”

“No, you're perfect - for me, anyway.”

She saw something change in his expression; a serious glint that flowered in his eyes. Her stomach swooped as he slipped his hand beneath her hair and cupped the back of her head. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Binding her to him with more than words, he hinted with his lips and tongue what the reward would be for the leap of faith they both had taken.

Several firecrackers went off on the boardwalk behind them, interrupting their intimate embrace. They broke apart to the shrieks of laughter - a bunch of teenagers just having some fun on Christmas night.

Blue shook his head ruefully, but he didn’t seem annoyed. “Kids, huh?”

“Perhaps,” she said, boldly, “We ought to continue this conversation somewhere private, like your hotel room?”

His eyes widened. “Uh -Serena, maybe we should think about this... we don’t want to rush into anything...”

“Rush into - okay, who are you and what have you done with Adam Svenson?”

“I'm the victim of bad press,” he said, his eyes crinkling. “You enjoy the odd party and get a kick out of beating up the bad guys. Everyone thinks that's the real you - a cardboard cut-out grunt.”

She stroked his slightly rough cheek. “You don’t fool me, really.”

“Yeah, well, I’m serious now. I don’t want to screw this up, Serena. I want to take this slow and steady.”

She studied his face, that sweet, rugged face, his eyes, his mouth, she drew her hand up and lightly followed the scar along one eyebrow, party hidden.

“I never asked how you got that,” she said quietly. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

He gently kissed her lips. “You know the most important thing.”

She felt her heart soar. “And what’s that?”

He smiled. “That whatever happens in this crazy world... I’ll be by your side. Always.”

THE END

Author’s Notes

This is my first New Captain Scarlet story for the Spectrum HQ website – I hope it isn’t my last! I follow in the footsteps of some wonderful writers who have played in the CGI universe, and I only hope this offering is worthy of their interest.

My thanks to Isabelle Saucier for her help with the layout of Skybase.

There is no Officer’s Lounge mentioned anywhere in canon, I just needed another place for Blue and Green to chat. I also created an extended family in Trinidad for Lieutenant Green on her mother’s side.

I’d like to thank Marion Woods for her invaluable help in beta-reading the story, checking for inconsistencies and inserting the commas I always manage to forget; however, any errors and omissions left in the text are due to me.

My thanks too, as always to our indefatigable webmaster, Chris Bishop, who will undoubtably, add sparkle and polish to the presentation of this story by virtue of her artistic HTML wizardry.

New Captain Scarlet was a fitting finale to Gerry Anderson’s incredible career. I hope I have treated his original characters with the respect they deserve. I don’t own any of the canon characters, and I’m not making any money from this fanfic.

Happy Christmas to all for 2020. It has been a year none of us will forget.

OTHER STORIES FROM CAROLINE SMITH

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