Flight to Paradise Ch. 19

"Yes, sir," she says with a smile. "You can count on me. I'd like to see this place in the summer when it's not so damn cold."

"I know I can," Bert says. "Come back in the spring and we'll have Darren take you out and let you watch a foal being born."

"Uh, okay, I think," she says then giggles.

"It's really something to see. Maybe we will. It all depends on work," Mac says.

"Tony, there is more to life than work," Bert says with meaningful glance at Kate.

"Yes, Dad, I know," Mac says with a smile at Kate as she blushes slightly.

"See that you remember it then," Bert says before hugging first Mac then Kate again. "Go on. The earlier you leave, the earlier you'll get home. Ping your mom when you get home. She'll worry the entire time until she hears from you."

"Yes, Dad, I know. I will. Love you. See you in the spring... maybe."

"Jesus! It's cold in here!" Kate mutters, her breath clearly visible as she makes her way to the front of the plane. Bert hasn't driven away when they start pre-flighting the Goose, and the truck is sitting just off the flight line, facing them.

"What?" Mac asks from behind her, wondering why she stopped.

"I was just looking at your dad's truck. He's over there watching us."

"I'm not surprised. He does that nearly every time. He says he likes to watch the plane take off."

"Uh-huh," she says as she sits down in her seat, the cold leather instantly leaching the heat out of her. "Where's the seat heater on this damn thing?" she teases before returning to the subject of Bert. "I think he's more interested in watching his son until the last moment. He's a great guy. So's your mom. Well, your mom's not a guy, but you know what I mean."

"I know," he says settling in. "I could do worse for parents."

"You have no idea. Number one..." Kate says, pulling her checklist from the side pocket and reading from the list.

It takes a couple of tries for the Beauty to start, the aircraft apparently not liking the cold any more than she does, but now that the engines are running and Mac has the cabin heaters operating, she can feel herself beginning to relax as she warms.

As they settle into the cruise Kate begins to shed her heavy outer layer of clothing. They have a long flight, so they might as well get comfortable.

Fifteen hours later, Mac touches the Goose down at the Oroville airport. Having to divert around some bad weather cost them time and range, forcing another fuel stop, causing them to arrive home too late to attempt a water landing. "Fuck me," Mac groans, stretching his back after stepping out of the Beauty.

"I'm too tired," Kate says with a grin, patting him on the arm. "Tomorrow."

"Hah, hah," he says twisting this way and that. She's able to get up and move around in the plane but he can't. He trusts her implicitly at the controls when he can back her up, but he doesn't think she's quite ready to go solo. They're going to have to start work on that, soon. It'll be nice to have another qualified pilot on board for these long, cross-country flights.

"That's fine with me. The only thing stiff right now is my back," he says as he climbs up on the nose of the plane to get the luggage.

While he retrieves the luggage she performs an abbreviated post-flight on the plane while they wait for the taxi to arrive. They'll be back to get the Beauty tomorrow, then they aren't going anywhere for several days after that. They have a lot of lovemaking to catch up on.

They stand under the wing of the Goose to stay out of the drizzling rain until the taxi arrives, Kate leaning in against Mac to help ward off the chilly night air and to feel the closeness of him as he speaks with his mother. The warm weather of southern California is going to be something she misses, but that's a small sacrifice to be with Mac.

Forty-five minutes later the taxi drops them off in front of his house, Kate opening the door and entering the house, holding the door for Mac as he hauls their two suitcases through the house and down the hall to their bedroom. Kate follows, chucking the bag of dirty laundry onto the floor of the laundry room as she passes. She'll worry with that tomorrow. They quickly unpack and Mac sets the luggage aside to be stored later.

Right now, he wants only three things, a shower, a bed, and a special woman in his arms, in that order. "I'm hitting the shower, and then I'll be ready for bed."

"I'll be right behind you, on both counts," she replies as she begins to clean her face.

After a few minutes they switch places, Kate moving to the shower as Mac takes the sink, swishing his mouth clean and depilating his face. He's just putting his leg on the charger when she enters from the bathroom, dressed in another sleepshirt, this one with an obviously sleepy Mickey Mouse dressed in a night shirt and hat while holding a candle on the front, causing Mac to chuckle.

"What?" Kate asks.

"Your sleep attire. How many Mickey or Minnie sleep shirts do you have?"

She giggles. "Just three. They're just so damn comfortable, these shirts, and when they get dirty, I can just throw them in the washer. Unlike of my other... sleepwear."

"Well, you can make a sack look good," he says as she crawls into the bed with him.

"Flatterer," she says with a grin, kissing him quickly on the lips before settling in beside him with a groan. "I am so glad to be home."

He wonders if she means that the way she said it, but lets the comment pass. "Me too," he says as he stretches with a groan of his own. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"I'm planning," she says, her voice full of mischief, "on wearing your ass out in the bed. Or you mine, whichever comes first. Then later, doing it again. Then, maybe, doing it a third time tomorrow night, but other than that, nothing much. You?"

He snickers at her comment. "Somewhere in there we need to go get the Goose."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Okay, I'm sure we can fit that in there somewhere."

"I certainly hope so. I may not be able to walk again otherwise."

"I don't know about that," she says, snuggling in close. "You seem to be able to give as good as you get so far." If she wasn't so damned tired and stiff from the trip, they might get started early. Like now.

He thinks about trying to seduce her but decides that it'd be fun to wait and see just how many times they can go tomorrow—how often he can rise to the challenge so to speak—so he contents himself with holding her. If she were raring to go, he can certainly, and willingly, oblige her, but as tired as he is, morning will be better.

As they slowly drift toward sleep, he receives a ping from Dana, a simple text ping announcing her arrival in Dallas and that she likes her new home and is feeling fine. Mac returns her ping, congratulating her on her new home and wishing her well.

Still smiling, confident that all is right in his world, he sinks slowly into sleep.

The next morning Kate awakens to find Mac missing from the bed—again—but the smell of breakfast being prepared hints to his location. Damn him! she fumes as she stretches. It's a little after eight and she feels refreshed, rested, and ready for some hanky-panky, but he isn't here to perform the hanky-panky on. She tumbles out of the bed, padding to the kitchen after a quick stop in the restroom. "Can't you stay in bed past six?" she demands as she enters the kitchen, her tone accusing but a smile on her face.

"I wanted to get in a little exercise this morning to work the kinks out," he explains folding the eggs over to form an omelet.

"I was planning on getting a little exercise this morning myself, but you weren't there," she says. At least Mac is still dressed in his workout clothes, so he isn't completely ready to start the day.

He grins at her. "Food first, then exercise."

"Okay," she says. "I guess I can wait that long since you're already making breakfast. I'm going to eat light though. I don't want to feel stuffed."

His grin widens. "Two small cheese omelets and toast. That's it. I don't want to feel stuffed either."

She sways to him, flowing into his body. "Good to see you're thinking ahead," she purrs, offering him her lips.

He takes her lips with his own. "Mmmm... Hold that thought. Breakfast will be up in less than five minutes.

She smiles and backs off, sucking on her bottom lip as she thinks of all the wonderful things she's going to do to him, and all the wonderful things he'll do to her in return. She sets two plates on the counter for him, then fills two glasses with juice, setting them on the table. On sudden impulse she wanders into the den, interested in seeing the pictures again now that she has people and names to match up to the photographs.

As she enters the room, she instantly notices that many of the photos are missing. Photos of Sam, Darren, Tim, and Andi are still there, along with a couple of Bert and Cynthia, but only one remains of Bull Toro, a smiling Bull with a pretty woman and two kids, Mac standing between Bull and his wife, an arm on each of their shoulders, a big, silly grin on his face. As she looks around the room, she notices that except for his service ribbons, all the military memorabilia is gone as well.

Puzzled, she leaves the den just as he appears with the two plates. "Where did all the photos go?" she asks as he places the plates on the table and sits down.

"I took them down this morning," he says as he sits, preparing to eat his breakfast.

"Why?" she asks, settling into her chair.

"I don't know. That's the past. I'm ready to look toward the future I guess."

"Mac, the past is what makes you who you are. The man I love."

"I know, but, I... want to build new memories, memories with you."

She watches him for a moment before cutting into her own omelet. "This is really good," she says as she tries to figure out what she wants to say. "Mac, I don't want you to take the photos down because of me. Cynthia told me what Bull meant to you. You can't change that. I don't want to even try to change that. I don't want to be a replacement for Bull. I don't want you to 'save' me. I don't need saving. You've already done that, without even trying."

He looks at her a moment, no longer eating. "I'm not trying to save you, Kate," he says quietly.

"I know," she says softly, touching his face. "But you did. You've given me something that I thought only other people have... contentment... happiness... love. You've given me a family, your family. You've shared the greatest gift anyone can have with me... a loving family. I don't want to change one thing about you. I don't want you to hide your past. I want you to celebrate it."

"Not everything is worth celebrating," he says softly.

"Mac, listen to me. If Bull had lived, would you blame him for the loss of your leg? After all, you went back for him and it cost you your leg, right?"

"No, course not," he says, as if insulted.

"You did everything you could for your friend. You risked your life, nearly lost your own, to save him. You were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to save him. Nobody could, nobody would, ask you to do more. If the situation were reversed, would you want Bull to feel guilty?"

"No, but—"

"No buts!" she interrupts. "Bull would want you to remember the good times, to celebrate your friendship, wouldn't he?"

He's quiet for a time. "Yeah, probably."

"Mac, if Bull's wife doesn't blame you, nobody blames you. Does she blame you for Bull's death?"

"No."

"Then why are you blaming yourself?"

"I'm not. I—"

"Then why did you take the pictures down? You don't want to share that part of your life with me?"

"It's not that! Kate, I—"

"Mac, my love, Bull is part of the reason that you're the man I love. The lessons he taught you have helped mold you into the man you are. I wish he were alive so I could thank him for helping make you... you." She pauses, watching him think it over. "Mac, Tony, I'm so sorry Bull is gone. He must have been a great man. Don't throw away the good with the bad. Please. I'd like to meet his wife sometime, and his kids. I want to be part of your life, all of your life."

He stares at her for a long time, his eggs forgotten. "He was a great guy, Kate. I wish you could have met him," he says, his face breaking into a sad smile. "He'd have loved you."

"I wish I could have met him, too. Any man you admire has to be someone worth meeting. Don't take that away from me. Let us, you and I, celebrate Bull's memory."

He looks at her, looking into her eyes, his face twisting as he struggles not to cry. She's right. Bull would be kicking his ass six ways to Sunday if he knew. He pushes his chair back and stands up, holding his hand out to her. She rises and takes it, allowing him to lead her into the den.

"Let me tell you about this one time..." he begins, breakfast forgotten, as they walk into the den to rehang some pictures.