Yaay, I'm sharing another piece of my work! First of all, I didn't really want to post it until it was completely done, but as I'm way overexcited about this…. I needed to share it with you, at least the prologue!

This is something quite different than I'm used to write because this time, it's an AU. I wanted to write one since a long time and there were a lot of ideas coming up in my mind but it was all messy and I could never choose one. But eventually, with Margot's help, I ended up with something *allelujah*. I hope you will like it, and I have to warn you… you have literally no idea of where it's going, hehehe.


Prologue


A random bar, in Charleston.

"Cheers, mate!" Miller yelled, raising his glass to his friends as the crew of Nathan James was partying in a random bar. Tom and Mike were sitting at the bar, drinking their beers quietly as their seamen were having fun behind them, all gathered around a table.

"How are the kids?" Mike casually asked Tom as he took a sip of his drink.

"Not really happy about the fielding." He said, looking at his glass. "They're staying with my father."

"Christine wants me to retire." He let out abruptly, Tom looked up and turned his face to him.

"And you?" He asked, well knowing this wasn't as easy as it seemed. Mike raised one of his hand as he scratched his skull.

"I don't know." He sighed. "Part of me wants to be with them, I mean I've missed so many important moments in their lives over the past few years… Jeez, you know what I'm talking about." He shook his head and took another sip.

"And the other part?" Tom kept asking.

"The other part wants to be on the field. I love this job, I wouldn't trade it for anything." Mike said and his friend quietly nodded. He knew the struggle, even too well. He had been in his position almost a year ago. Even if it was slightly different, he also had to think about a choice to make and choosing between your lifetime job and family wasn't easy, especially for men of action.

They remained seated for another five minutes, enjoying quietly their friendly company. Mike finished his beer with one last sip as they both could hear bursts of laughter and holler coming from behind.

"Well, I'm gonna take those men back to the ship before they embarrassed themselves even more." He said to his friend and superior, raising his eyebrows as he put down the empty bottle on the counter. Tom slightly smiled, amused by the situation. "You're coming?" He said, going of the stool.

"I'm gonna take one last drink on my own." He shrugged his shoulders.

While Mike went to get his men and left the bar, Tom couldn't help but think of his kids. Mike's words were echoing in his head, he had also missed so many moments and now it was too late. It was part of the job, each soldier knew what he was committed to, what would be his sacrifice, when he was signing the contract but no one could get used to the guilt, not ever. It was even harder to leave them after all this time off, they got used to his presence again at home and he could still see Sam's face when he told them he was leaving for a new mission. It wasn't like it was the first time, but it was different, everything was different now and tomorrow morning he would be gone again, even if he was already far away from home now.

He brought the bottle to his mouth, swallowing the liquid, feeling the bitter taste of alcohol burning down his throat as he closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation and not on his thoughts.

"A whiskey, please." He turned his head to his right, looking at the woman who was standing two stools away from him, waiting for her drink. It would be lying to say she wasn't the most beautiful woman in the place. Her wavy dark brown hair were falling down on her shoulders, she was wearing a light leather jacket, grey shirt, boots and a jean which was perfectly fitting her slender legs.

As she could feel his gaze on her she looked at him from the corner of her eyes, trying to ignore him but she quickly couldn't resist the temptation anymore and finally turned her head towards him. She crossed his eyes and Tom's face softened as he slightly raised his eyebrows, realizing she had caught him looking at her. He couldn't hid his smirk as neither could she and he almost lost himself in the icy blue eyes of hers.

"Do I have something funny on my face?" She asked him. He turned back his head to his beer.

"You can tell a lot about people by their dink choice." He said in a hoarse voice.

"Oh really?" She said incredulous as she leaned on her right elbow, her body slowly facing him.

"That's what people say." He shrugged.

"Thank you." She said to the barman as she grabbed her glass. She slowly came closer to him, reaching the stool next to his. "And what does my drink say about me?" She asked, curious of what he was gonna say. He cleared his throat and straightened himself.

"That you can hold your liquor and doesn't half-ass things." He looked at her again and she was looking as if she was about to burst out laughing. "I guess." He added, in his defense.

She brought her glass to her mouth, hiding her smile behind it and took a sip. He could tell she was a hot-headed woman with fire inside her and who wasn't afraid of anything. He wasn't usually that chatting with stranger met in a bar, but she was radiating something that was making him curious.

"Is it the best you can do?"

"Well you know, I intended to call it a night as soon as I would have finished this beer so…" He said, slightly raising his drink.

"Too bad." She smiled at him. "But you emptied that bottle a while ago, and yet you're still here."

"Well, I better go then." He joked, looking straight into her eyes. She shrugged and tilted her head.

"Maybe." She told him as she held his gaze without flinching. "Or you could stay a little longer and we could play a game."

"A game?" He frowned.

"We gotta ask a question about ourselves each turn and the other one has to guess the answer. Wrong answer, one shot."

"Let me guess, isn't your game called 'who gets plastered first'?"

"Call it whatever you want. Are you in or not?" She said as she took another sip of her whiskey.

"You've got a deal."


Jed's home, Saint-Louis.

The old man was sitting in his chair, channel-hopping since several minutes in search of an interesting program but his mind was elsewhere. As he couldn't focus on the television anymore he turned it off and decided it was time to try getting some proper sleep. As he made his way to his bedroom, he walked by his grandkids' rooms and he noticed the light shining under one of the doors. He looked at his watch, he was past midnight and he was surprised Ashley was still awake.

He grabbed the handle and slowly opened the door, he was certain to find her awake reading some book or wandering on her laptop but instead he found both of his grandkids snuggled together under the covers. The view warmed his heart as he quietly entered the room, reaching the bed. He was about to turn off the bedside lamp when he noticed something in the young boys' hands. He was holding a frame with a picture of their mother and Jed couldn't help but feeling heartbroken for the kids. He sadly smiled as he carefully took of the frame away and put it quietly on the nightstand before turning off the light and heading to his bedroom.


Sasha's laugh filled the bar as Tom frowned at her like a child.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing. Wrong answer." She said, trying to pull herself together.

"So, what's the right one?"

"Sorry, I can't tell you." She offered him a regretful smile.

"Hey that's not fair! How can I be sure you're not lying to me?"

She leaned over him, titling her head and gave him her most appealing smile.

"You gotta trust me on this, smartass." She whispered him.

"I'm not sure I can even keep drinking." He said as he had to take another shot.

"Don't be a wimp." She teased him.

"I hate you." He mumbled before taking the sip. He slammed the glass on the counter and cleared his throat. "Alright, how old am I?" He then asked.

"Mmh…" She observed his face. She wasn't hiding the fact she was enjoying it, looking at him deeply and trying to remember each of his features. She supposed he was a bit older than her as his hair was pepper and salt, his lips were drawn in a thin line and she didn't miss the smirk. She also noticed the wrinkles at the corner of his magnificent blue eyes and the slight dark circles underneath. "I'd say in the forties?" She finally said.

"That's too easy, pick a number."

"Forty-one." She affirmed.

"How do you even…" He raised his hands in the air while she giggled like a girl for having guessed the right answer. "That's getting creepy."

"What is my type?" She went directly to the next question, getting excited by the unfolding conversation.

"Really?" He asked confused.

"Come on, I'm just curious to know what you think!"

"I'd say daddy's boy, rich and handsome. But not the kind of guy you can't count on."

"So that's how you see me? Are you trying to lose on purpose? Cause you're really good at it." She pretended to be offended.

"I just hate your stupid game."

"No, you just hate losing that's all." She grinned, crossing her arms against her chest.

They looked at each other and this right moment he didn't know if it was the power of alcohol or their closeness or even her perfume invading his nostrils, but his eyes suddenly drifted on her lips. Even if it was for a brief second she didn't fail to notice it.

The barman suddenly cleared his throat loudly, bursting their bubble and Tom threw a look at him over her shoulder, then around the place and noticed they were the only customers left.

"I think he's trying to make us understand he'd like to close the bar." He murmured. Sasha frowned and turned around to cross the guy's pissing look.

"Alright, let's go then." She said as she stood up from the stool, taking her jacket she had laid on the counter earlier and put it on.

Tom followed her a few steps behind and as they were finally outside, she stopped and turned around to face him. He stopped too, leaving little space between them and they looked at each other quietly. Sasha finally raised her eyebrows, passing a hand through her hair and pinched her lips.

"I'm getting this way." She said, pointing out to her left.

"Me, this way." Tom simply answered, pointing out the opposite street without dropping his eyes off of her.

"So, I believe this is where our paths diverge." He nodded once, titling his head and she suddenly chuckle.

"What?" He shoved his hands in his pockets, smiling too.

"I don't even know your name." She slightly frowned, still smiling.

"I'm just a guy in a bar." He hummed and shrugged, making her chuckle again as she looked away a few seconds before meeting his blue eyes again. Without any warnings, she suddenly closed the distance between their bodies and slid her hand behind his neck, bringing his face to hers. The next second he felt her lips against his as she was slowly nibbling to his lower one. She was tasting like alcohol, he couldn't help but pressing his mouth against hers and in the same way she had kissed him, she broke it off without letting the kiss getting any further. She wiped off his lower lip with her thumb before stepping away, walking back as she faced him.

"Bye, stranger." She brightly smiled at him, before turning around. He watched her walk away as he couldn't help but smile too and walked back to the ship, thinking he had just met one hell of a woman.


Three days later.

The Nathan James had moored at the port of Chiapas a few hours ago, the crew was busy preparing the needed equipment and carrying out their daily tasks while Tom arrived on the upper deck, with his second. He had been informed last minute by the President that someone from the Navy Intelligence would be aboard his ship for an indefinite time and also that this person was meeting them at their arriving in Mexico. He didn't really like last minute plan changes, and especially when he had no control over them but orders were orders and the only thing he had to do was welcoming that stranger on his ship.

"Captain Chandler, this is Officer Sasha Cooper. She will be our contact during our mission in town and will serve us as interpreter." One of his sailors arrived, followed by two other members of the crew escorting the guest. When they moved away to let the officer step forward, the unknown woman appeared in his field of vision and he instantly froze. Those dark hair and those blue eyes, he couldn't have forgot them. He recognized her immediately, and she did the same as they stood there, looking as if they had just cross the path of a ghost. They didn't move nor talk and as things were getting awkward, his second stepped forward and held out his hand to shorten this moment.

"Mike Slattery, I'm the Executive Officer." He greeted her. "Welcome on board!" She took his hands and briefly smiled, still confused about what just happened. As the sailors left the upper deck, leaving their superiors with each other, Sasha looked down and stepped back to let them go. Next thing he knew by seeing her face and crossing her eyes again was that he just got into a hell of a mess.

To be continued…