"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I shouldn't be putting any more pressure on you."

She favored me with that wonderful half-smile of hers, that crooked grin that I see every time I close my eyes. "'s ok."

"No it isn't. But I'm too happy to argue about it now." I felt my nose crinkle as I grinned right back at her, so happy and so much in love that I thought I would burst with the intensity of feeling running through me. I fingered the sharp crease of her uniform shirt. "Do I want to know?"

Her grin broadened. "Let's just say that Officer Martinez is probably waking up from a nice, long nap right about now."

"Naked."

"Hey! I left his underwear on."

I laughed. "Well, that's something, I suppose."

She shrugged. "Better than busting you out with my gun. I don't think they would have taken too kindly to that.""

"Probably not." I looked up at her again after a short pause. "Montana?"

"Through Donita. Who's rather pissed that you're out of the country, by the way."

Suddenly embarrassed, I looked down at my dusty boots. "I know. It was stupid. But I had to do something. The waiting and wondering was...well, it was...hard." I could feel tears threatening again, but held them back through sheer force of will. I looked back up at her. "Don't blame the others, Ice. Pony and Critter both tried to talk me out of coming with them. I just wouldn't listen."

Shaking her head slowly, she put her glasses back on, denying me the intimacy of her eyes. "I don't blame them for that, Angel. You made your own decision and I know you'll deal with the consequences, whatever they might be."

I found myself nodding, though inside, I felt a faint tendril of nervousness seep its way into my belly at the sudden, almost ominous turn of the conversation.

"What I can't forgive, nor will I forget, is the idiocy of going out to get drunk down here. Medical supplies, I can understand. They're needed. But unless someone has a damn good reason for walking in to that bar... ."

Her voice trailed off, but I didn't need to be some sort of psychic Boy-Scout to follow the trail her thoughts laid out. I felt my heart pick up its pace as I watched her stare out somewhere over my left shoulder, her fists slowly clenching and unclenching in time to the muscles in her jaw.

"We didn't think," I finally mumbled, acutely embarrassed.

She peered at me over the rims of her glasses, her eyes flashing silver. "That's right."

Without another word being said, she stepped past me and back into the sun as she rounded the van.

Like a scolded puppy, I tagged at her heels and stopped behind her as she halted in front of the rest of our friends. To a woman, their faces were pale as cream, even in the light of the blinding desert sun. Ice's body was tense and I prepared myself for the explosion I knew would follow.

One we all deserved, myself no less than the rest.

We all were left wanting, however, when she abruptly jerked open the van's doors and gestured with a sharp tilt of her chin. "Inside. Now."

If those women had been a team competing in the twenty foot dash, they would have won hands down.

"Not you," she said, grasping me by the arm as I attempted to follow my colleagues. "You ride up front with me. The rest of you keep your mouths shut and your ears open. Be ready to put those chains back on if we get stopped for any reason. Got me?"

She slammed the doors closed on their group nod.

Still grasping my arm, though gently, she led me around to the van's passenger side, opened the door, and helped me in. After I was securely in the rather threadbare seat, she closed the door and walked around to her side, then hopped in behind the wheel.

Still silent, she started the engine, put the truck in gear, and pulled away in a great fan of desert grit.

As we drove down the rutted, half-paved roads, I kept my silence, but couldn't help stealing glances at her chiseled profile, watching the interplay of muscles as her jaw clenched tight, and at her hands, whose knuckles stood white against the burnished tan of her skin as she gripped the wheel with frightful intensity.

My lips ached to form words that my mouth refused to utter. Words of apology and recrimination. Promises to do better next time. Pleas not to be sent back.

My mind knew, however, what my heart wouldn't admit. That Ice wasn't ready to hear my words. That beneath her anger lay a vast wellspring of fear for my well-being and, even, the well-being of the others with us. That anything I might say now would only run up against the stone wall of her anger and fear, and fall shattered to the ground, ignored.

So instead I settled myself more comfortably into the seat and stared out at the blank scenery coming toward me through the windows, trying hard not to cry.

She must have sensed that, though, because after a moment, one hand came off the wheel, reached out, and clasped mine in a tender tangle of fingers. "I love you, Angel," she said, her voice raspy. "Never forget that. No matter what."

"I won't," I whispered, tearing up.

"Good." Withdrawing her hand from mine, she placed it back on the wheel as silence descended once again, more comfortable because of her gift of love.

We drove on for quite awhile in that silence, with nothing but the silent desert for company. I felt myself getting sleepy, but fought hard against it, wanting to savor every second with Ice by my side. With the thought that perhaps some music would keep me awake, I looked toward the dash, only to see an empty hole where the radio should have been. So much for that....

Swallowing hard, I then cleared my throat. "Where...are we going?"

She spared me a brief glance before returning her attention to the road. "The legal crossing's too dangerous. There's an out-of-the-way place I know that should be safe for you to cross back over. We're almost there." Her voice was quiet, but determined. Whatever emotions she was feeling were carefully concealed beneath the stone exterior she was displaying.

My jaw opened to say something, but another glance from my lover closed it with a clack of teeth on teeth. I sighed, then slumped in my seat, my mind, like a spider, already beginning to spin out this plan or that, all with the express purpose of making myself invaluable to her here. I just had to find the right one.

"Shit."

Though the word was softly uttered, it was more than enough to pull me from my thoughts and plans. "What? What is it?"

"Roadblock."

Leaning forward in my seat, I strained my eyes, but the best I could come up with was a wink of sunlight on metal. I looked over at Ice, then back at the road. "How do you know?" I asked finally.

"I can see it. Straight ahead. About five miles. Maybe less."

Since staring out into the sun was only giving me a headache, I gave up on it rather quickly and simply took Ice at her word-an effortless task, to be sure.

"Is it for us?"

"I can't be sure. But I doubt it. I left the guard pretty far from civilization. More likely, they're set up to catch people trying to cross over illegally."

"How do we handle it?"

Her hand came off the steering wheel and to the gun at her hip. Her fingers gently eased the strap away from the holster. "If I tell you, be ready to run."

Her softly spoken words caused a burst of adrenaline to rush through my body, quickening my heartrate and breathing, suffusing my muscles with life-giving energy. I sat up straighter in the seat, only now able to catch the beginnings of what looked to be a good sized line of cars snaking out from a central point on the road in front of us. Off to one side, a patrol car sat, it's lights flashing and illuminating the desert in a red wash of color.

Something occurred to me, and I looked over at my lover. "Ice?"

"Mmm?"

"If these guys really are just looking for illegals, what are they gonna think of an Anglo like myself sitting in the front of a police van? Unbound?"

"You've got a point," she replied, gradually slowing the van until it came to a stop behind the last car. Turning to me, her right hand lashed out in a move too quick to follow, and before I knew it, my shirt was ripped nearly in half, though by some miracle, my breasts were still covered.

Mostly.

"Happy to see me?" Though the situation was dire, I just couldn't help myself. That little evil spot inside me chose the most perverse situations in which to come out to play.

She gave me a little smirk before returning her gaze to the line of cars in front of her, doubtless trying to figure out the puzzle of the roadblock and leaving me to figure out the puzzle of my suddenly torn top on my own.

Light soon dawned. "Ohhh! You're gonna play at being the person Nia thought you were, aren't you. A disgusting pig with a taste for blondes?"

The next glance she shot me was over the rim of her glasses. "Actually, I kept you from being beaten to a bloody pulp by the animals in the back of the van, but if you want to go the sexual prey route, be my guest." Her smile was a predator's grin, flashing white and full of teeth.

The contradictory sensations which surged through my body amazed even me. I didn't have time to dwell on them though, as the van started to inch forward, bringing us closer to our unwanted destination.

"Which way do you think I should play it?" Though that might have sounded flirty, I was, in point of fact, utterly serious.

"You'll figure it out when the time comes," she replied offhandedly.

I stared back at her, a little stunned. "I don't even understand the language, Ice. You have that much faith in me?"

The look I received swallowed me whole.

"Always."

Into each person's life, I believe, come moments that you wish time would freeze long enough for you to savor them in all their perfection.

This was one of those moments for me.

After an interminable wait which saw me nearly pulling my hair out in frustration and nerves, it was finally our turn. A tall, broad man who strained the seams of his uniform walked up to the driver's side and lowered his head, peering in. His eyes were covered by mirrored sunglasses and his mouth was mostly hidden by a huge, bristly moustache which was just showing the first flecks of gray. All of this made him very hard to read, which was, I suspect, his intention.

All of which made it difficult, of course, to choose a course of action. I finally decided on a combination of defiance and innocence. Not a likely pairing, I know, but one that I'd used to great success all my years in the Bog. My situation being what it was, it wasn't very hard to slip back into that role, and the ease with which I adopted it again would have no-doubt frightened me, had I the time or the wherewithal to ponder it closely.

In any event, whatever he saw in me must have appeased him, because after sparing me the briefest of glances, he muttered something to Ice, and she produced a sheaf of papers she'd stowed next to her seat. Our transfer papers, I guessed.

He leafed through them, grunting, then made some hand gesture which caused Ice to open the door and step out. After the door was closed, he stuck his head back in and barked something at me that I hadn't a prayer of understanding.

Which, I suppose, was just as well since I probably wouldn't have liked it anyway.

I almost fell out of the van in a most undignified manner when, scarce moments later, the door I was leaning against opened without warning and I was lowered gently from my seat out onto the ground. The hands which steadied me were familiar, and so I relaxed as I was led around the van to the rear, where the others were standing, apparently waiting for something. Or someone.

How they'd managed to cuff themselves back together in so short a time, I'll never know, but I was grateful for the foresight. I hoped Ice was grateful for it, too. I imagine she was, though, being Ice, she's never said a thing about it one way or another.

To me, at least.

Pony and the rest-even Nia, to my immense surprise-stared back at me with hard, flat eyes, seeming every inch the hardened criminals they had once been. The smirk Rio tossed at me could only have been taught by my lover.

The officer shouted something to Pony, who in turn, looked at me. "He wants you to point out the person who did that to you."

Alright, Angel. Showtime. Don't screw this up or we're all in a whole heap of trouble.

"Tell him that it happened during the fight at the bar."

Pony translated, and the officer looked over at me, eyes narrow with suspicion. I gave him my best 'innocent' expression and prayed that it would be enough.

Apparently, it wasn't good enough.

"He wants to know why you'd lie to protect animals like us."

"I have no reason to lie to you, sir."

Hearing the translation, he scowled, crossed in front of the group, and reached out to grab me. And was promptly stopped by Ice, who smoothly intercepted him while nudging me partially behind her broad back. Whatever she said to him made his scowl deepen, but it halted his grab for me, and for that, I was grateful.

He spit out his comments in a scathing tone, and the smirk on Ice's face when she turned to translate was quite pronounced. "He wants to know how someone who would stand up to a bunch of men in a bar could suddenly become too frightened to fend off a group of women."

Laughing a bit inside, I allowed my own smirk to form. "Tell him that you weren't protecting me from them. You were protecting them from me."

One corner of his moustache twitching as he heard the translation, the officer did a slow head turn until the other women in our group were in his sights.

They all nodded, quickly, Pony even taking the further step of wincing and rubbing her belly where, I gathered, I'd managed to land a good one during my "fight" in the van.

He looked over at me, and I glared back at him, my fists clenched. Then he looked over at Ice, who nodded. His moustache bristled again, and this time, his smile was plain as the flashing of his teeth in the sun. A laugh sounding almost like a rifle shot erupted from his belly, followed by another, and than another, until he was laughing uproariously and wiping tears of mirth from streaming eyes.

After several long moments, he finally regained control and clapped me on the shoulder, saying something to Ice. Then, transfer papers in hand, he walked back to his patrol car and slipped inside, no doubt to confirm our story with the powers that be.

"What did he say to you?" I murmured out of the side of my mouth, while at the same time keeping a close eye on one of the other officers, who leered at me while holding his high-powered rifle casually in one hand.

"Told me to watch out for myself, that I had a wildcat on my hands," she replied in like fashion, her glare wiping the leer from the young man's face in record time as he found something else more interesting-not to mention much safer-to occupy his attentions.