I have to catch a
nine o'clock flight, so hurry back. We aren't through yet."
"I'll bring you something from the restaurant."
Nodding, she said, "Thanks. Doesn't matter what it is. God, I haven't felt
like this in ages..."
He kissed her again and trailed his fingers down her blanketed form to her
knees, picked up the keycard, and buttoned his shirt on the way to the door.
Cade stepped out of Beth's room feeling as if he hadn't eaten in days.
Instead of waiting for an elevator, he took the stairs down two flights and
entered the con suite to see what was on the buffet.
The black guy who seemed to be in charge of the con suite every year saw him
coming and waved from behind a serving table as he picked up a large aluminum
tray that still held half a dozen sliced sandwiches.
"Hi, guy!" said Cade. "Still wearing red, huh? Don't you know that's an
unlucky color in Starfleet?"
"No sweat. Ever notice how they never send the cooks on away teams? Crucial
bridge personnel, medics, scientists, security types, and even family members
and practically any-damned-body else who wants to go, but never the cooks.
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