Heyo! I'm truly sorry for the lack of updates. It's been a while since I've written for these two, but I just lost inspiration with the end of the serie… I was hoping for more Tomsha scenes, but got a bit disappointed. I finally came up with this idea.
Anyway, I think now that time has gone I might be back on track! Well… if there are any readers left out there…
Please, let reviews! It's always a pleasure to read you. Enjoy!
Late night kiss - Set between season 4 and 5. We're at the very start of their relationship. Tom and Sasha hadn't cleared things out yet. They are still trying to figure out what's next for them.
It was late. The students and teachers of the naval academy had deserted the area long ago now. Tom had – as usual – stayed later to review his next classes, correct a few papers and above all, to enjoy the imperturbable calm he appreciated so much. When he finally decided to go home, he turned off the lights in his office and walked up the corridors to the exit of the General Staff building.
It was a completely different way of life he had committed to since the return of Nathan James. He had refused to get his uniform back as Commander and had chosen the bureaucratic side of the job. He wasn't gonna lie: he missed leading a warship and setting up combat tactics (although he certainly didn't miss the war itself). He had become an Admiral, was training the new recruits and gained a lighter schedule that was offering him a more orderly life.
He met some coworkers walking around. Then suddenly, he realized at the turn of a corridor that the office of a certain person dear to him wasn't far from there. He hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to take the path. He knew her too well to be only half surprised to see light coming out of the half opened door of her office and he couldn't push back the slight smile growing on the corner of his mouth. She was still there.
He approached slowly, not daring to disturb her at first. He raised his hand towards the door and when his knuckles were about to knock on the wooden panel, he'd been suddenly stopped by a moan coming from inside. He threw a look through the opening door and saw her right side. She was sitting at her desk, in a tank top. She seemed to be busy with something on her left arm but he couldn't see why. It was only when she turned to take something from her desk he finally saw what was bothering her so much. His heart raced and his blood rushed through his veins. He gently pushed the door and took three steps inside.
"You okay?" He asked, worried.
"Tom," Sasha was surprised to see him on the doorstep of her office. "What are you doing here?" She didn't expect to have company, let alone his company. They had only met for a short time since they got their respective new positions. She still remembered their talk on the upper bridge, a fresh start, that's what they had agreed on. But neither of them had brought back this moment since their return, far too busy hiding behind their work and pride.
"You're not answering my question." His gaze fell on the still fresh cut on her upper arm. She raised an eyebrow.
"Neither are you." She said, applying a clean compress on her wound. She was simply changing her bandage, or at least trying as best as she could. Too stubborn to go to the sickroom, Tom thought.
"Need a hand?" He offered, as she was trying to hold the compress steady while wrapping the strip around her arm, in vain. She tried one last time to take care of it herself. But it was late and she was exhausted. All she wanted was to change that damn bandage and get back to her house.
She sighed, and dropped the compress on the desk. She looked up at Tom, who was watching her with an amusing face. He knew how much she hated asking for help or even admitting she needed it. She didn't need to say anything, Tom understood from her murderous gaze that she was surrendering. He put his things on the sofa to the left of the door and walked around the desk. He raised his left thigh to sit on the edge and directed the beam of the desk lamp towards her arm to see more clearly.
"Alright, let me see." He leaned slightly. He grabbed her elbow to turn her arm and get a better view. Sasha suddenly felt her cheeks getting warmer. She wasn't the type to be destabilized so easily, but it'd been so long since she had let Tom's hands touch her. He was so gentle with her she could melt under his fingers.
"It's pretty bad." He added. The cut was long and deep. The surrounding tissues were red, suggesting a possible early inflammation. "What happened?"
"I guess you know the basics." Everyone had heard about the last mission. It was supposed to be a simple recce for a future attack on a rebel camp that was terrorizing entire villages in southern America, but their mission quickly turned into a fiasco when they realized that an ambush was waiting for them. Fortunately, no one was killed in the team and only a few were injured. But Tom had no idea she was part of them. They had come back two days ago, and Tom had thought of checking on her but had never found the time. Now he felt guilty for not coming sooner.
"Machete blow in the fight. I didn't see it coming." She winced in pain, as he put pressure on the wound.
"Sorry." He mumbled. She put her hand on her wound while he took the bandage roll on the desk. He gently, but firmly wrapped it around her arm while she held the compress in place. Once it was done, Tom threw the empty packaging into the garbage can at the foot of the desk while Sasha got up and grabbed her jacket on the back of her chair. He hadn't moved an inch, and she hadn't realized how close they were now that she was almost at his height. She didn't pay attention to it – at least she pretended not to – and managed to put her good arm in the sleeve. But as for the left arm, she quickly realized that it might be more complicated than she had hoped. Without waiting for a word, Tom grabbed the side of the jacket and helped her putting it on. He imagined her body covered with hematoma from the fight and how achy she must be feeling.
"Thank you." She whispered, finally looking straight in his eyes. He simply replied with a slight smile, and the silence quickly settled in between. They had stood still, their eyes dipped into the other's. It felt a bit awkward; neither of them knew what to say next. They were both aware that a lot of water had flowed under the bridge over the years. He loved her and she loved him, everything seemed so simple and yet they couldn't move forward.
Probably due to the dim light in the office, Tom noticed only now that her cheekbone was slightly purple. His stomach twisted at the thought of someone hitting her, but he was sure she had returned the favor in ten times worse. He brought his hand slowly to her face and she closed her eyes as she let him brush the bruise ever so lightly. He cupped her face, and she leaned in his touch. His hand on her cheek felt warm and she let herself thinking of how much she had been missing him. Tom felt relieved his action wasn't rejected. He wasn't sure she was ready to let him get that close yet.
"Tom…" Her eyes were still closed. The pleasure was short-lived when she grabbed his wrist, trying to convince him this was a bad idea. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want yet another talk that wouldn't lead anywhere. He had waited for this moment for so long.
"Jesus, Sasha. How much longer are we gonna avoid each other like this?" He whispered to her, and she finally opened her eyes to meet his piercing blue ones. She didn't know if it was the exhaustion or their sudden closeness that upset her so much, but she felt the tears coming to her eyes. She swore her heart could have burst from the rushing feelings and undying love she felt for him at this right moment. There were so many things she would have liked to tell him, back then and now. But he was right. They had talked enough. They had beaten around the bush long enough. She was tired of keeping her distance in fear of being hurt again. The war was over, at least for now. Why shouldn't they also be allowed to have their own share of happiness?
She gave in, loosened her grip on his wrist and took one step closer. She grabbed his face between her hands, enjoying for a moment the feeling of his skin under her touch. He slid his thumb along her cheek until her jaw stopped, then settled both his hands on her hips. He inhaled deeply, and slightly tilted his head back. He lowered his eyes on her mouth, and she didn't miss a bite. She was dying to close the last few inches between them, and she knew the feeling was mutual. Love had never been easy between them, but for once Sasha chose to forget all her doubts and fears.
Slowly, but surely she leaned down and locked her lips with his. He had almost forgotten how soft they were and how perfectly they fit his own. He slid his arms around her waist, bringing her even closer against his body. Kissing her felt heavenly good. It felt home.
Sasha pulled back just enough to breathe, while she brushed her parted mouth softly against his. She didn't want to move away from him, not yet. They remained in each other's arms for a few minutes, forehead against forehead. Sasha gently rubbed the tip of his nose with her own, before finally pulling her head back to look at him.
"It's getting late." She softly said. He nodded, simply.
"Let me ride you home." He wasn't really asking. Without waiting any longer, he straightened up from the desk still with one hand on her hip. She found herself smiling at his carefulness, and she lovingly grabbed her chin with her hand to pull his head down for a kiss. They both headed to the door. Tom got his things back from the couch, and they finally went home hand in hand.