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.It was gentle and warm and Mason could feel the sympathy offered by his partner.“I’m sorry,” Cam whispered.“But realistically, would you being here have prevented it?”“I don’t know.”“Since I know you’re not going to stop tearing yourself up about this, put the problem aside for now.Time to suck my blood.It is half the reason I came to pick you up.”Mason blinked.It took a second for him to remember that Cam had agreed to have his blood tested, to make sure they were both clean and could do away with the condoms.It was a serious step in their relationship.He wrapped his arms loosely around his lover and hugged Cam.“Thank you,” Mason said.“Stay put I’ll go grab one of the venipuncture buckets.”“Ew.Could you not mention the puncture part?”“Chicken.”It only took a couple of minutes for Mason to draw the sample.Cam gave him the hairy eyeball when he drew his own.“That’s just plain creepy watching you do it to yourself,” commented Cam.“How long until we get results?”“End of the week probably.You worried?”“No, not really.There’ve been a couple times I wasn’t safe, couple of women.I suppose there’s always a chance I picked up something.But honestly I think it’s pretty low.You?”“I get checked every year.Health professional and all that.Last year was fine.I’m jumping the gun a little on this year, but no biggie.Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Mason asked.Cam’s hand closed around Mason’s wrist and he pulled Mason’s hand to his chest, placing it over his heart.“I’m sure,” said Cam.Mason’s breath caught a little.“Now how ‘bout we head for your place.I brought your helmet.”“I take it this means you’re planning on taking me home down 264 going like sixty miles an hour.”“Yep.All you have to do is sit still, snuggle up to my back and put your arms around me,” Cam teased.“Only you could make riding your motorcycle sound like a proposition.”3: Clutching“At most, I might be able to prolong his life an extra week or two.Beyond that.the cancer has Swiss cheesed the bone in his leg and it’s spreading rapidly through the rest of his body.But I think you probably know that,” said Peter.Dr.Mason Flynn paced restlessly across the floor of the doctor’s lounge.His four year old osteosarcoma patient was dying and there was nothing he could do about it.All his healing talent, even that of his mentor was for naught.He paused at the window in the doctor’s lounge of the hospital and ran his hands back through his short dark hair.The darkness outside cast his reflection back at him and he felt like his heart was sinking down into the pit of his stomach.Doctors weren’t supposed to get bent out of shape about dying patients.Usually he was pretty good at that sort of thing.And the average orthopedic surgeon didn’t have the high loss rate that, say a cardiologist had.Maybe it was the age.Mason didn’t run across a lot of terminal children.Maybe it was the stoic calm of the boy.As long as the pain stayed under control, he complained very little.Mason looked at the image of the other healer in the glass.Peter Vithoulkas was the wunderkind of Division P, a highly secretive government agency that recruited and trained people with psychic talents.They primarily acquired their pool of agents from other government agencies and the military.As a civilian orthopedic surgeon, Flynn was a notable exception.“If you feel you have to do something, control his pain some, so he’s less drugged out by the morphine pump.Otherwise, leave it to the oncologist and the hospice people,” said Peter.Mason slowly turned to face his colleague, hands shoved deep in his pockets.“I couldn’t be an oncologist,” Mason said softly.“Me neither.”“I keep hoping.thinking there must be.something.”“I know.What you and I do is off the scale impossible to start with,” replied Peter.The senior healer stood up and walked toward Mason, stopping in front of him.“I set up your assignment with the Virginia Beach EMS.You’re scheduled for Station 14 next Tuesday at six a.m.No Tuesdays out at the complex for a while.I want you doing this for at least three months.Remember, 10% of your Talent, 90% of your medical knowledge.I expect a detailed report after each shift.”Mason nodded.Peter laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.“Some things just get to us all,” said Peter.“I know it sounds callous, but go home, call Cam, stop thinking about it for awhile.”***The vibration of his cell phone against his hip drew Lt.Cameron Bradshaw’s attention.It was a blissful distraction from the drudgery of standing duty because he was “med down.”After having his ear drum ruptured by the blast of a bomb while he was in Philadelphia back over the weekend, he had joylessly reported to the flight surgeon on Monday."Oh yeah, it’s ruptured, but not too badly," the flight surgeon had reported.As if Cam hadn’t already known.There were certain perks to having a man who was both an MD and a psychic healer for a lover.The flight surgeon had declared Cam “med down” for at least the remainder of the week.All the responsibilities of his job and no flying; it just sucked.Cam flipped his phone open.There was a text from Mason.NO LUCK W/PETER.TERMINAL CONFIRMED.CALL ME WHEN U CAN.Cam let out a sigh.He knew Mason had been counting on Peter being able to do something for the tiny cancer patient.The doctor was usually fairly low key about his patients.Something about this one was obviously causing a great deal of heartache.Cam wished he could call Mason and offer him words of comfort, but they had agreed that communication needed to be kept as casual as possible whenever Cam was at work.SO SORRY.OFF DUTY @ 7.Cam glanced at his watch as he pushed the button to send the message.It read five fifteen.He still had close to two hours.Back to organizing the maintenance schedule for the jets for the following week.***Two sheets of paper equaled the only bright spot in the whole day.Mason sat at his desk in the deserted orthopedic practice office.He had swung back by his office to check on some insurance information.Some of the HMO’s were notoriously tight with authorization of procedures and testing even of patients who truly needed the services.Two envelopes had been tossed on his desk while he was on his futile quest at the hospital.He suspected what was inside even before he opened them.Blood test results for him and Cam.A brief scan confirmed that both of them were clean, not that he really expected otherwise.Now the biggest question would be if Cam was really comfortable with the idea of abandoning condom use.One more step in a path binding them together.Mason stared unseeing at the surface of his desk for a long moment.Was he really hoping for forever? Yes.How likely was it? That probably fell in the category of maybe.Being a partner to a Navy man was hard enough on a wife, an openly recognized relationship.Acknowledgement of his and Cam's relationship would never be “okay” except in a few specific places, Division P being one of them.God, he had a love/hate relationship with those people.Having the backup, the protection, and the training -- all that was just incredible.Then there was the down side -- watching Cam at risk, and himself for that matter, the flying thing, the fact that they wanted Mason to become competent in the field, which could translate to under fire -- that part just sucked.His brain circled back around to the fact that even Peter, who he tended to unrealistically think of as all-powerful, couldn’t save the life of four year old Jason Ambers.That made him just want to scream or hit something.Yeah, right, like that would be productive.Mason’s cell phone vibrated on his hip and he answered it without bothering to look at the number, “Dr.Flynn
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