Title: The Transition (Come Clarity)
Author: Nat
Fandom: Sea Patrol
Pairing: Mike/Kate
Summary: But her throat tightens up and her heart starts pounding in her chest. It's an easy question, all she has to say is yes, and he'll go away.
Rating: M- To be safe
Word Count: 4330
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox *la sigh*
Spoilers: up till the season 3 final, i suppose.
A/N: Written for the Sea Patrol Christmas Fic Exchange 09. Big thanks to Phantom for the amazing beta.

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She expects the dreams really.

And at first that's all they are, dreams. Not nightmares. Just dreams. Mostly there's smoke and fire and heat. Her stumbling around in the misty haze trying to find her way out. Nothing overly terrifying about that.

About a week later the dreams changed.

Heat, lots and lots of heat. She can feel the flames around her, but she can't see them. Simone is standing next to her too, and they both search around blindly, trying to find a way out. Until Simone falls suddenly, completely out of nowhere. Kate tries to reach out to her, grabbing for the other woman's hands, but she's not quick enough or strong enough.

She wakes up gasping for breath. Her hands are clutching her sheets in a death grip and she's drenched in a cold sweat. Untangling herself from her sheets, Kate swings her legs over the side of her bunk and sits there, trying to bring her breathing back to normal. Her hands are trembling and she squeezes them together, trying to get them to stop.

They get back into home port tomorrow. She has a quick check up with the Navy doctors at the hospital, but it's just a routine check after all the smoke inhalation and the fact that she was unconscious for a small time. Swain said she was fine, so she knew that was going to be fine.

Talking to the Navy psychologist is not mandatory; she just hopes the doctors don't see anything that will make it mandatory.

After that she's home free though. A week of shore leave. It'll do her good, she thinks, it's exactly what she's in need of. A bubble bath, a glass of red wine, maybe some relaxing music.

She nods to herself in the pitch black of her cabin.

That's all she needs, and the dreams will go away.

She survives the night more on coffee than sleep, plus some trashy novel that Nav passed onto her, telling her she'd get a kick out of it.

It's cheesy and overdramatic and has maybe a few sexual positions that just aren't possible… but it does the trick and before she knows it the sun is coming up over the horizon.

She doesn't care that it's the colour of fire.

Kate watches her shipmates disembark, already feeling the tug of fatigue at the edges of her eyelids. It's not that she doesn't want to sleep, only that she manages to feel more rested if she doesn't wake up in the middle of the night feeling like she's just been fighting for her life. Or someone else's.

Her excuses for staying behind from the usual dinner meet up isn't met with too much resistance from the crew; she knows she isn't looking her best. Instead she stands by as they filter by her, one by one.

Nikki makes her a promise to call and set up a shopping day before their leave is up, and Buffer makes a quiet enquiry about how she is. Kate promises she's fine, because mostly she is, especially in daylight. For a moment she doesn't think he believes her, but then he gives her a small smile and says he'll catch up with her later.

Spider and Bomber give her a wave as they walk past her, their conversation barely pausing as they argue over what's the best Christmas present for his niece. She's not sure what an Elmo doll is, but Spider is adamant that his niece is obsessed. She hears Bomber protest that girls are into Dora the Explorer these days, just before they fall out of earshot.

2Dads stops in front of her to give her a cheeky salute before rushing off saying he's late for a poker game. She shares a smile with Swain and Charge as they depart after their younger crewmate.

She doesn't see Mike, but then she was never waiting for him.

When she's at her house, she doesn't know what to do with herself. The place is dusty, with that cold hollow feeling buildings get when they are seldom used. This place isn't her home, and hadn't been for some years. She contemplates the empty space for a moment, then wearily sits down at her laptop, her hand skimming over the thick layer of dust gathered across the lid. Her hand comes away black.

While the ancient machine is booting up, she makes herself a coffee; that is until she smells the distinct odour of burning electrical cables coming from her lounge room. Rounding the corner back into the lounge room, she watches, slightly entranced, at the thin finger of smoke slowly wending its way up from the exhaust point on her laptop. Quiet suddenly, followed immediately by a sharp crack, the small plastic computer burst into flames.

It's 2 hours and one fire extinguisher later that Kate is sitting on her front porch, unable to stand the stench of burnt plastic in her house. She has another coffee in hand, and Mike Flynn is walking towards her.

"You weren't at the pub." He states.

She could offer excuses, but she's pretty sure Mike could see through them. That was the thing with Mike, he seemed to pick up the subtle changes in her mood and personality and then go out of his way to help her. Whether it was just bringing her a cup of coffee, or a promise of dinner later when they got back to shore or even just sharing a lame joke with her to make her smile.

They had a history together and sometimes she forgets that it wasn't all bad.

Lifting one shoulder, she shrugs at him.

Mike doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at her, like she's some kind of puzzle and he's so close to finding all the answers. His head tilts slightly to the side like he's contemplating something and she finds herself tensing for the inevitable questions.

"Kate," He begins, "Are you okay?"

It's not any different to the way that Buffer had asked her earlier, so she doesn't know if it's from the late hour or because it's Mike. But her throat tightens up and her heart starts pounding in her chest. It's an easy question, all she has to say is yes, and he'll go away.

She's afraid to even open her mouth, in fear that she'll answer his question with a sob.

Her hesitation is all Mike needs to hear (or not hear really) because he moves forward, sitting on the chair beside her, and he's pulling her to him, and she's wrapped up in his arms. He's warm and smells so good, his hands sweep down her back in gently soothing strokes and he almost feels like a safe haven.

There is a knot still lodge in her chest though, pushing its way up her throat, but she tries to swallow it back down. She feels distressed and vulnerable, two things she never wanted Mike to see. But it's too late now, way too late for any of it. He's probably been able to see it more times then she's willing to admit.

Mike stays late into the night. They watch the late night movie and then the crappy infomercials. She doesn't say a word to him about her dreams, and he doesn't push her for answers on what's really wrong. He just sits with her, and at the moment that's enough.

The next day he calls her.

She's in the middle of tearing her whole kitchen apart, cleaning it top to bottom.

"Hey," He says, "How bout dinner tonight? Mexican maybe? And movies."

His voice is all smooth tones, and she can't imagine Mike Flynn ever having trouble talking to the ladies. Even on the phone she can hear that boyish grin of his. She doesn't think she could ever say no to that grin.

"Sure. Bring beer." She replies.

"No problems, I'll be around at six."

She disconnects from him, and drops her phone onto the counter top.

She has no idea what she's doing.

Mike arrives while she's scrubbing her oven, even though she can't remember the last time she used it. She lets him in quickly, before going back the oven to clean up the mess she's made.

"Spring cleaning?" Mike asks, putting the bags in his hand on the kitchen bench.

"One of those things I've been putting off for far too long." She replies while squeezing a cloth out into a bucket. "Be right back."

She takes the bucket out the back and tosses the dirty water onto the lawn before dropping the bucket into the tub sink in her laundry. As she walks back into her kitchen, Mike's putting something into her fridge. It's oddly domestic to see him moving around her kitchen, and the knowledge that he has been around here enough to know where everything is feels awkward in her chest.

He holds out a beer bottle to her, with the cap already off.

"For the lady," He says in some strange accent and she can't help but smile at him.

As she looks at the label, she's amused to see it's a Mexican beer and it's so Mike Flynn. Always conscious of the little details. It's what makes him a good Captain, and, she would imagine, a good partner.

He's studying her while he takes a long sip of his own beer and she can feel his eyes on her. She suddenly realises what she must look like since she's been cleaning all day. Hair tied into a messy ponytail, ratty old shirt and a pair of soccer shorts she's not even quite sure where she got from. Suddenly she feels every ounce of dirt and grim on her.

"Do I have time for a quick shower?" She asks, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her eyes.

Hmm…" He pretends to consider her question, then smiles at her, "Sure thing, Kate."

There was something about the way his eyes trailed down her frame that… no.

No, it was nothing.

She feels better after her shower, almost like she's had time to regroup and patch up her armour. From what she's not sure though.

After dinner, her stomach full, she feels a greater contentment than she's felt in weeks. As she puts the empty bottle of her second beer on the table in front of her, she's willing to admit it might have something to do with the company as well. Mike's holding two DVDs up for her to choose which they're going to watch. Her options are Top Gun or Stripes.

"You're in the military, don't you ever want to come home and watch something that's... I don't know, non-military?" she frowns at him. Mike doesn't say anything back, just looks at her pointedly, "I'm sorry what was I thinking. Stupid question."

"You're forgiven." Mike smirks at her, "Now pick one."

"Well," She drawls, "We might as well watch Stripes, because I don't want to see you cry when Goose dies."

"I do not cry when Goose dies." Mike scoffs at her.

"Really?" She asks, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead.

"Okay, so I might have choked up a little." he admits smiling at her, "But you knowing that means you've seen it. What was it? Tom Cruise? Bet you were a Maverick girl."

She shakes her head at him, "Iceman, thank you very much."

Mike looks surprised, and she likes that, that she can keep him guessing.

"You, Kate McGregor," He states, staring at her intently, "Are very surprising sometimes."

His voice is soft, and so is the way he's looking at her. But she doesn't let herself think about that too much. She's been trying to not think about it for months.

Sometimes she wishes that…

Well, she wishes a lot of things.

She wakes up gasping for air and the start of tears burning her eyes.

Sitting up shakily, she swings her legs over the side of her… That's when she realises she isn't in her bed, she's still on her couch and Mike's sitting beside her, looking at her like she's been keeping secrets from him. God, she fell asleep during the movie.

"Kate?" He asks, and moves closer to her than she ever remembers him being.

His touch is light, as his fingers make gentle circles on her back. His touch is soothing, the last remnants of her dream slowly fading. Her heart beat returns to normal and she scrubs at her eyes to get rid of her tears. Her skin is clammy though and she knows he must feel that.

"I'm okay," She says, but doesn't sound at all convincing even to her own ears.

He looks too concerned, far more than he should be. He was always like that though. Mike Flynn wore his heart on his sleeve, and that was why this was dangerous. He was trying to help her, and his presence was comforting, but they were walking a thin line. One that they'd been so lucky not to trip and fall over last time. But if she was really honest with herself, it was hard not to accept the safe haven he was willing to provide for her.

"I'm fine," She tries again, voice stronger.

For a second she thinks Mike is going to argue with her. His jaw clenches and his hand stills on her back, visibly taking a deep breathe trying to stop himself from saying what he really thinks she imagines.

"Do it to me one more time Kate, and I'm not going to let you off so easily." Mike speaks softly.

That she believes.

She doesn't try to stop him as he pulls her closer to him, her head finding his shoulder without hesitation. His lips settle against her hairline, almost like a kiss.

She wakes up still on her couch, a blanket tucked around her and the starting menu of Stripes on her TV.

She stretches gingerly, before getting up and making her way into her kitchen. A quick glance at the wall confirms that it's still early and she's barely gotten five hours of sleep, but that's the most she's gotten in days so she isn't about to start complaining. She does however flick the switch to turn her coffee maker on.

Mike had left in the early hours of the morning after much convincing. He was worried about her, that she knew, but she was also grateful that he hadn't tried to pry facts from her yet. Though he was a comforting presence at the moment, she was nowhere near ready to bare her burdens to him.

But why wasn't she?

They were friends, they trusted one another and he so obviously cared for her. Last night went well beyond the call of duty as her Captain and there was no denying the tension that seemed to seep into every conversation they had these days. She liked to blame it on their history, but it was getting harder and harder to believe that. Things were changing between them, things that she had no control over.

Mike was a complicated, dangerous temptation that she knew she had to stay away from.

That was the thing about temptation though, it was rarely easy to stay away from.

Mike rings around midday, just as she's walking back in the door from her run.

"Hey," He says, "I haven't got you at a bad time?"

"No, just walked back in the door."

"I was thinking that maybe we should attempt Top Gun tonight. Tears or no tears." His voice is low and quiet, and sounds painfully intimate even though he's only talking about movies. It makes something knot in her stomach.

She should say no.

"Yeah, okay," She hears herself agreeing and there is something that's uncurling in her, something that she doesn't want to examine too closely.

"Great, I'll bring wine this time. See you tonight."

They disconnect and she stands there staring at her phone.

She's still not sure what's happening.

Mike arrives just after seven, a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag in the other, with something that smells absolutely delicious.

"Hey," He smiles at her, his blue eyes so bright even in the dim lighting.

"Hi there," she replies and she's surprised at how easily her own smile forms back at him.

She lets him in, holding the door for him as he walks through, and then follows him into the kitchen. Leaning against the door frame she watches him quietly. He moves with ease, and looks completely relaxed in her home. It makes something twist in her stomach, just like it did the night before.

He turns then, and stares at her again, his forehead creasing into his familiar frown. His eyes are studying her, and he shakes his head, "You're still not sleeping."

Swallowing hard, not really sure she wants to answer, she shrugs, "It's nothing."

"Kate," He begins, and just the way he says her name has her on edge. The mood in the room shifts. He doesn't say anything else for a few moments, seeming to struggle with something as she just watches.

Finally, instead of saying anything, he starts moving towards her. She has no idea of his intentions, but the closer he gets the more her heart races. He towers over her and she has to tip her chin up to meet his gaze. There has always been something about the way he looks at her, she can't explain it, but its there and she has a fleeting thought that she could love this man if she let herself.

"Please don't hide from me Kate," He murmurs, his fingertips reaching out and touching hers gently.

Her throat tightens up at his whispered plea and the thing that she hates, is that he is helping her already and he doesn't seem to understand that. That he thinks that she's hiding things from him deliberately, when really every moment he's here with her, he is there for her.

She reaches up and kisses his cheek lightly, not knowing what else to do.

"Thank you." She says so softly, she's not even sure if he hears her.

Mike smiles tenderly at her before he leans in and brushes his lips against her forehead, resting there gently and god help her, she actually closes her eyes at the contact, her breath catching slightly. His hand reaches up then, his fingers making light contact with the side of her neck, stroking the sensitive skin there. She lets out a shaky sigh, which sounds more like a whimper and Mike pulls back slightly, staying close to her, trying to gauge her reaction. The moment his eyes fall to her lips, she knows whats going to happen, finally knows his intentions.

She also knows she isn't going to stop it.

She wants him. Has now for some time.

Her fingers curl into the front of his tee shirt, pulling him closer to her and Mike's smart enough to take the hint, taking a step forward to pin her against the doorway.

He kisses her then. Slowly, and maybe a little bit tentatively. He's holding back, unsure of how far he should push her, and not wanting to press her beyond what she was ready for and that was so Mike. Always the gentleman.

She opens her mouth under his, taking the kiss deeper. Mike's hands slide down to her hips, holding tightly before his fingertips slip under the hem of her shirt, stroking the soft skin of her back. She feels another whimper slip from her throat as his fingers make contact with her skin for the first time. She arch's into him, pushing against him as the kisses turned hot and slack.

Mike breaks away then, resting his forehead against hers, breathing hard.

"Kate," He says, his voice low and husky as his palm flattens against her lower back, the other trailing across her rib cage. Her hips sway towards his, rocking in a gentle rhythm until Mikes hands tighten on hers to hold her still.

"Kate, you have to tell me to stop now if you don't want this, because-" His voice catches then, as she shifts restlessly against him. "Because once this starts, I won't be able to stop."

"Don't even think about stopping," She replies breathlessly, and can't even imagine letting him walk out her door now. She trembles with anticipation, because she knows, she knows how good it is with Mike. She doesn't want to have expectations, but they are there. They've been there for months. They've been there since the first time they were together.

Mike doesn't hesitate then. He's kissing her insistently, hot, wet kisses that have her toes curling as his hands tug and push at her clothing. The pace he set's is frantic, but there will be time for slow later. They have all night, and if she can't sleep she was going to indulge and forget about everything else but him.

She wakes slowly. For the first time in a long time, she wakes by her own volition, with not even a whisper of the dreams that have been haunting her. Her eyes open to a grey dawn outside of her window, so early not even the birds are awake yet. It's so deathly quiet and strangely peaceful; she thinks maybe she's dead.

She stretches, and her hand brushes warm skin beside her. Lazily, she turns her head to find Mike still asleep on his stomach beside her, naked, the sheets draped loosely - and somewhat suggestively - around his legs.

She allows herself a smile. He looks so innocent in sleep, childlike and adorable; his forehead smoothed of his usual worry lines that plagued him during the day. His scar seems more prominent as well, and she gently reaches out to run her fingers along it, enjoying the texture underneath her fingers.

Mike's eye blinks open, and he smiles up at her, "Morning." He murmurs.

"Morning." She still isn't quiet awake, her eyes droopy, threatening once again to close, but she manages another smile in his direction.

"Sleep well?"

"Better than..." She blinks, than nods sedately, "Much better." She tells him, her fingers slipping from his scar down over the bridge of his nose, then across his cheek, "Thank you."

His eyes are already falling shut as he smiles, "Pleasure."

Kate watches him a moment longer, then let's her eyelids fall shut again, breathing in the scent of Mike Flynn, and letting it lull her back into another dreamless sleep.

When she wakes a second time, something is tickling her.

Soft, light touches all over the skin on her back. She shifts slightly on her stomach and she hears a soft laugh beside her. Turning her head, she opens her eyes and see's Mike sitting next to her on the edge of the bed, fully dressed.

"Hey," he reaches forward to smooth her hair back out of her face.

"Hey," She replies, "Why are you dressed?"

He smiles at her and lifts his other hand into view that holds his mobile phone and wiggles it briefly.

"Marshall called. I need to be at NavCom in an hour. Don't be surprised if you get a call this afternoon saying we're being crash sailed." Mike speaks while his fingers stroke her arm.

"Marshall called?" She frowns slightly.

"Yeah, you were pretty out of it." He says as his smile morphs into a grin.

She can't help but smile. For the first time since the fire, and Simone falling, she'd slept soundly. Well at least for the moments that Mike had let her sleep. He'd woken her on a number of times during the night, and just the memory of each heated encounter was enough to stir her blood.

"Well," She began lifting up onto her elbows, the sheet pooled around her hips, "A number of orgasms will do that to a person. You're good at that by the way."

He smirks at her then, a truly cocky smirk and she'd do something about it, if she didn't feel well and truly sedated.

"Just glad I could help," He retorts, and then leans down to her, kissing her softly. She turns slightly, shifting onto her back before reaching up and sliding her hand along the back of his neck and into his hair. Opening her mouth she kisses him lazily, her tongue sliding against his as one of his hands touches the curve of her hip.

Her hands reach for his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stops her, capturing her wrists and pinning them gently to the mattress.

"Kate," He warns, but his voice is rough and uneven, "I've got to go. But hopefully, if we're not crash sailed, we can continue this tonight. My place. I'll cook for you."

"Okay," She says, even as the alarm bells sound in her head, but the beat of her own heart is drowning them out as he looks at her with unguarded affection.

"Good. I'll call you when I'm done with Marshall."

He kisses her gently once more before getting up and moving towards the door of her bedroom. She rolls back onto her stomach and watches him, wiggling her fingers at him in a wave when he looked back at her.

After he leaves, she lies there for long moments. She knows she should be concerned, and that later there will be a conversation, but in this moment, she just wants to enjoy it, this feeling of contentment, even if it can't last. She's entitled to it and she's going to take it.

Outside her window she can hear the sounds of the ocean.

fin