Chapter 4
It had been almost two months since they'd left Baltimore, two months since he'd lost Darien, and to say it had been difficult was an understatement,. Some days he could manage with the pain, it was like a paper cut to his soul, nagging, painful, but bearable. Other days it was all he could do to make it through the day without breaking down – it was the nights that were the worst.
When they'd been searching for the cure, he could allay the lack of Darien's physical presence with the hope, the belief, that they'd be reunited soon, that it wouldn't be forever. Now that he knew she was dead, Tom found himself missing her physical presence more than ever. His responsibilities as a father, finding a role for his own father aboard ship, was what filled the days, but the only thing that got him through the nights was Rachel's presence. She'd found him wandering the corridors of the Nathan James one night when it had been her turn to cover night duty in sickbay, shocked at how lost and bewildered he looked.
Rachel had managed to drag Tom back to sickbay and persuaded him to lie down on the cot the medical staff used for naps during their breaks on nights. Rachel never told him what she'd done to persuade Rios to keep her off night duty, but after that night she would drop by from sickbay, ostensibly to visit the children, who had taken readily to Rachel and the calm, unconditional affection she gave so easily. Jed too had taken to Rachel, finding in her someone who actually enjoyed playing poker – and had proven to be quite the card sharp, another layer Tom had found himself uncovering. After everyone else had gone to bed, Rachel would somehow persuade Tom to sleep, curling up next to him, providing the physical presence he so desperately needed. Nothing had happened between them, both intent on honouring Tom's need to work through his grief, and as strange an arrangement as it was, it seemed to work. Jed and the children too had benefited from Rachel's steady presence in their lives; she had become someone they could take their problems to, unconsciously aware of Tom's struggle to cope, and not wanting to add to the burden.
Slowly, over the weeks, Tom began to heal, and as the months went by he became more and more aware that he no longer needed Rachel's presence to just get through the night, but had begun to crave it because he needed it as a man. She'd stopped being a human comfort blanket craved by a grieving heart, but as the woman he recognised he was falling more in love with every passing day. It was crazy, he reflected. They'd shared the occasional hug, a brief caress, even a few snatched kisses – but no more than that. Perhaps that was how he'd ended up lying next to the most gorgeous woman aboard the Nathan James (in his opinion) suffering from the worst case of frustration he'd ever felt in his life. Having asked her to wait for him, and now having got to the point where he felt ready to move their relationship forward, Tom felt paralysed – how the hell did you go about seducing your own girlfriend?
Ironically, it was a piece of shrubbery that helped move things along – specifically a piece of Holly. They'd managed to locate Thorwald's contact in Maine, who had put them in touch with further contacts at Portsmouth Naval Shipyard, located on the Maine/New Hampshire border. They'd managed to repair the damage inflicted in Baltimore, and the locals, along with the remaining base staff had even managed to rig a makeshift lab for Rachel to begin mass producing the cure. The Nathan James wasn't equipped for mass production, as Rachel had pointed out several times before, so when Rachel found amongst the locals a group of college kids who, prior to the Pandemic, had been Microbiology/Pre-med majors, she managed to fashion them into a more than capable production team. She was still living aboard the ship, Tom wouldn't countenance anything else, but thus far it was working with Rachel spending much of her days in the lab, before returning to the ship, and the Chandlers, at night.
It was now Christmas, and both Sam and Ashley had demanded a Christmas tree and a Holly wreath – a demand seconded surprisingly by the Nathan James' crew. Mike, Jeter, Tex, and Rachel had eagerly supported it, pointing out how good it would be for crew morale, so he'd given in. It gave him the perfect excuse to begin seducing Rachel, a task he had taken to planning as if it were a top secret military exercise. Ashley hadn't needed much excuse to hang a sprig of Holly in the Wardroom seeing as Tom and Rachel had taken the opportunity to order a late meal for the remaining Chandler clan, fortunately Bacon was feeling generous, it was Christmas Eve. Having cleared away the dishes from the evening meal Tom had managed to find the two of them "caught" under the Holly sprig.
"Well, will you look at that – can't break Christmas traditions now, can we?" he'd commented, grinning down at her. Rachel just smiled, she knew darn well it was no accident he'd trapped her under the Holly, she too had been aware of the change in their relationship. Just like Tom, she'd had no idea how to move them forward from their current impasse - until now.
Tom cradled her face between his hands, brushing his thumb over her lips, creating delicious little shocks that coursed through Rachel's body. He gently threaded his fingers through her silky locks and kissed her, running his tongue along her lips, pleading for entrance. She granted it eagerly, allowing him to explore her mouth, and deepening the kiss, slipping one arm around her slender waist, pulling her against him. It was only the need for air, that and the wolf whistles from his father and son, not to mention Ashley's amused giggles, that drove the pair apart, slowly becoming aware of their surroundings once more.
"Merry Christmas sweetheart," Tom murmured "Can we talk later? Once everyone has gone to bed?"
"Merry Christmas Tom, and yes, let's talk later" Rachel replied softly, smiling up at him.
Tom led her back into the lounge to share the remainder of Christmas Eve, keeping his arm possessively around her waist.