Friday, December 9th, 2016 – Mount Pleasant, South Carolina – 1930 hours
"Alright, they're here!" Kara uttered in a hushed tone gesturing with her hands for everyone to move. The group dispersed quickly, taking various hiding places throughout the main living room and upper walkway. The sounds of tires crunching on gravel followed by slamming car doors and inane chatter floated muffled from the exterior. Miller glanced over a Burk with an excited grin on his face and tried to stifle the mischievous giggles from bursting forth, fingers itching to pull the party string in his hands.
"Ash – don't forget to grab your trash –"
"Just leave it – I was planning on cleaning it this weekend anyway, I'll throw it out tomorrow." Sasha interjected, hoping the lie wouldn't cause too much suspicion on Tom's part. It had been bad enough trying to get the James docked in Charleston without his notice – a near-impossible feat achieved only with the help of Slattery and President Oliver himself. The sound of a key turning the lock echoed across the cavernous ceilings, the dozen crew members waiting with bated breath for the door to swing open.
"Shit, I left my phone in the car."
Mike gave an exaggerated eye roll as a few members of the group let out quiet groans of frustration. "Shh," Kara whispered sharply, worried the sound would give them away.
"Wait, the doors jammed – can you get it?" they heard Sasha say, and they primed themselves again. Tom frowned somewhat and turned away from the porch steps to move back toward the door. His confusion only deepened when he opened it with ease and stepped through into pitch-black the foyer.
"Sash the doors –"
"SURPRISE"
He visibly recoiled, almost pulled his gun before he realized what was going on. A chorus of voices assaulted him, the lights suddenly kicked on, and streams of multi-colored string descended from the upper walkway of the stairs accompanied by the blare of kazoos and party poppers from every direction. Sasha laughed with glee at the dumbfounded expression on Tom, Ash, and Sam's faces before yelling over the noise and commotion.
"Happy Birthday!"
Tom turned to face her, a slow wide smile spreading over his face.
"You did this?" he asked, and she nodded through her laughter. Miller and Burk chose that moment to attack her with the remaining party string, and she squealed, holding her hands up to protect herself as they aimed from above.
Tom shook his head and laughed. All four of them were covered head to toe in no shortage of florescent crap, confetti, and string ribbons alike. Even Ashley's sour exterior had softened in favor of wonder as she noticed the banner pinned up high in the living room. It read "Happy Birthday Tom & Ashley." Though the actual date of hers fell on the thirteenth, it was close enough and an appreciated gesture. The ire over being stuck in Charleston for her fifteenth away from her friends eased considerably. Ashely spotted Kat and Diaz and waved at them enthusiastically. They'd hit it off during Christmas at the White House and stayed in touch throughout the year.
"Say cheese," Mike called, drawing all of their attention just in time for a dozen pictures to be taken by their unexpected guests. He let out a guttural laugh when he reviewed the image and tucked his phone away before stepping forward to shake Tom's hand. "Happy Birthday my friend," he said as he pulled him into a one-armed embrace.
"Good to see you, though I'm gonna need an explanation on how you docked here when the James is supposed to be in Mayport." Tom replied easily, watching in his peripheral as Sasha hugged several members of the crew and vulture team alike that neither of them had seen for months.
Mike clapped his shoulder and stepped back, only then catching the reflection of light from Tom's left hand. He tipped his head in interest. "Looks like we both have some explaining to do," he quipped, to which Tom smirked.
"I'm assuming you brought cigars?" Tom deflected as he brushed himself clean as best he could. The string and confetti fell in clumps to the floor below him.
Mike offered a wide grin and patted the pocket of his jacket. "Courtesy of our new friend Arias," he confirmed.
"Knew there was a reason I keep you around," Tom teased as his attention was drawn to Burk, Miller, Wolf, and Granderson, who were all congregating and waiting to greet him.
Mike smirked and nodded his head toward the garden. "Whenever you're ready. I'm gonna grab a beer and say hello to your wife." The shit-eating grin on Mike's face only confirming that he had very much intended the others overhear. The shock was palatable on each of their faces.
"Wait, are you serious?" Miller blurted out quickly, his eyes settling quickly upon the simple gold band on Tom's ring finger. He let out a jubilant sound, his expression forming pure excitement, and he punched Burk in the shoulder. "Look!" pointing to Tom's hand. "That means I won! You need to pay up."
"You making bets on my personal life Miller?" Tom called sternly, his expression stoic and serious enough to fluster the younger man. Miller reflexively straightened and stood to attention.
"Uh, I'm sorry, Sir." He blurted out quickly, while Burk and Alisha did their best to stop the smirks from spreading across their faces. They knew the Admiral was only busting his balls, though it seemed, as usual, Miller was oblivious. Tom dragged the moment out, fixing him with an icy glare as he looked his Lt. up and down before slowly letting mirth creep into his expression. Burk snorted and brought his fist up in an attempt to stifle his laugh. The action was enough for Miller to finally catch on, the relief palatable.
"Wait – you're not actually mad?" he asked, bewildered, and Alisha burst into laughter.
"You should have seen your face," she laughed, her amusement only growing as she watched the hot blush creep up his skin, turning the tips of his ears red.
"Screw you guys," Miller mumbled in embarrassment, and Tom clapped him on the shoulder.
"Good to see you Miller," he said jovially before moving on to greet Burk and Alisha.
Mike caught up to Sasha in the living room. She'd managed to clean herself up for the most part and was chatting with Azima. Mike approached from behind, and Azima inclined her head to draw her attention.
"Cooper!" Mike greeted warmly, enveloping her in a firm hug and placing a kiss on her cheek. She beamed at him, squeezing his shoulders as he pulled back. "Or should I say Chandler?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and moving his eyes toward the simple dainty gold band on her finger. Sasha blushed slightly and sucked on her cheeks. She tipped her head and gave him a pointed look as she answered. "Cooper – Last thing I need is my face plastered everywhere."
Mike gave a curt nod though he was unable to hide the smile and fondness from creeping into his eyes. "I'm happy for you. About time he pulled his head out of his ass." He was only half-joking.
"Agreed!" Azima said forcefully, fixing her with a glare before excusing herself to greet the Admiral in the foyer.
Sasha chuckled softly, shook her head. "Actually, I had him beat on this one," she remarked wryly, falling into step gracefully with Mike as they moved toward the kitchen. It looked fantastic; the oversized island was laden with food and drinks, the alcohol stash finally being put to good use. Kara and Danny had done an excellent job setting things up for her. A sizable pile of gifts was arranged on the large dining table, along with several cards – they'd even managed to track down some balloons to decorate. The Green's arrived yesterday. A suggestion that they could use a weekend together sans Frankie from Sasha. The house was more than big enough to accommodate both couples for the weekend – even with ten other guests intending to crash for the night. Mike frowned in confusion and shot her a look that communicated he didn't understand.
"Believe it or not, this isn't the first time he asked me to marry him." She grabbed one of the wine glasses set out and poured herself a healthy amount of white. Mike followed suit and grabbed some local brew from the cooler, drinking from the can.
"Really?" he asked, his interest keenly piqued.
"Mmmm – before Darien," she mentioned casually, loading up a plate of food.
Mike quirked an eyebrow and spoke through a mouthful of bruschetta. "Well, he is punching. Can't say I blame you for turning him down." The smile on Sasha's face caused her cheeks to dimple as she tucked her head down a fraction. "When'd you two fools make that happen anyway?" he continued curiously.
"October twenty-third – we were going to invite you, but the timing didn't work out – well, actually, we didn't end up inviting anyone. Just us, the kids, and two witnesses." She elaborated, and Mike nodded. The James had been on a vital supply run that fortnight. With Garnett assigned to engineering the Michener and Kara on leave – he couldn't be spared, even for a marriage.
"S'ok – I hate weddings. Usually long, boring and stuffy with way too many speeches." Mike chirped.
Sasha tipped her head, "I agree – that's why I didn't want to make it a big deal." She wiped her mouth with a napkin before continuing. "We're trying to keep it quiet – in the circle, so to speak." She added, glancing at him, and his expression changed quickly into seriousness.
"Understood – I'll make sure the crew keeps it secure."
She smiled softly. "Thank you. I wish it didn't have to be that way, but until I'm done with missions, we can't risk it getting out. Maybe in a couple of years, when things are more stable..."
A hand on the small of her back caught her attention, and she turned, settling herself against Tom's side as he joined them. Sasha chuckled softly when she noticed the pink string still caught in his hair, removing it while he looked down at her from his peripheral. A small grin pulled at the corner of his lip before he focused his attention on Mike.
"You two conspiring at my expense?" Tom asked, accepting the beer that was handed to him.
"I'm not at liberty to disclose." Mike played along, and Sasha gave an open-mouthed smile as she responded.
"Just wait until you see the cake," Tom turned his head sharply and frowned. Her eyes were playful and mysterious as she pulled herself away from him slowly. Her laughter taunting him as she waved goodbye, heading into the living area to mingle with their guests. Tom shook his head in bewilderment as he watched her saunter away.
Mike rose his free hand in an innocent gesture when Tom turned back. "I know nothing."
The party was in full swing. The three oversized sofas had been re-arranged to allow a large expanse of floor space that functioned as a dancefloor, currently host to a wild assortment of moves from the crew. Sasha lingered watching from the kitchen as Miller attempted some kind of worm maneuver on the ground, with Sam quickly following suit. Taking stock of the room, noting thankfully that everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves just fine – Ashely included.
Kara wondered over – Danny had spent most of the night with Burk and Miller. Something that hadn't escaped either of their notice. She poured herself a whiskey and settled back against the counter next to Sasha, joining her in quiet observation from the sidelines. They stayed that way in comfortable silence for a time before Kara spoke.
"How did you do it? Even after he left, you guys made it work." Sasha followed her gaze across the room to where Tom stood by the fireplace. As was typical, he was surrounded by company, Russ, Joe, Andrea, and Mike. Seemingly on cue, he looked up and caught her eyes across the space. He lingered for a few seconds, warmth coloring his expression, and she smiled softly in return before he was drawn back into the group.
Sasha shrugged, her lips drawing tight across her teeth as she considered whether there really was an explanation capable of encompassing Kara's request. "I just – I love him. At the end of the day, nothing he does will change that." She paused before continuing. "The only difference is we finally stopped fighting it."
Sasha sighed and put her glass down, turning to fold a cotton napkin on the island with precision. The momentary distraction gave her pause enough to formulate her next words. She looked up, facing Kara this time. "Danny loves you and Frankie more than anything. Right now, he's scared, and he's running. I can tell you from experience that's a hard cycle to break." Kara narrowed her eyes, blinking against the lump in her throat. Sasha reached out to touch her upper arm, a reassuring gesture. "Don't give up on him – it's not easy, it will never be perfect, but he will come around. I know it."
"How can you be so sure?" Kara asked.
Sasha smiled then, ruefully. "How much do you know about Tom and I's history?" she asked with genuine curiosity.
Kara judged her response carefully. "Not much, actually. The consensus is that you obviously knew each other before." Mindful not so share the sordid details of the theories passed through scuttlebutt regarding the over-familiarity of their Captain and resident spook. Even ones as salacious as an extramarital affair. For all of their guesses, one point remained consistent – whatever history lay between them, it clearly was not platonic. The only variables were when and how it went down.
Sasha gave her a small knowing smirk. "We were together before he met Darien." She supplied, and Kara faltered slightly, taken aback that she'd so easily been able to read between the lines.
"To be clear, I never thought the Admiral would cheat on his wife. You can thank Miller and some of the younger guys for that." Kara added sardonically. The corners of Sasha's eyes wrinkled in amusement – it was fitting. She knew the rumors had gone into overdrive after Tom left. Knew her withdrawn behavior had only added fuel to that fire, yet at the time, she'd simply been too despondent to care. The sympathetic glances thrown her way any time his name was mentioned did nothing but add salt to the festering wound.
"He asked me to marry him, and I ran. I moved to another state when he went home for Thanksgiving and didn't even say goodbye." Kara did her best to hide the shock but ultimately failed, the way her eyebrows rose, illustrating it. Sasha gave her a sheepish look and tipped her head to the side before continuing. "We crossed paths two years later, right after Ashely was born." Sasha paused, a saddened smile pulling at her lips as she recalled the moment. "Even after what I did to him, he still looked at me like I was everything. And twelve years later, right before he went to board that plane in Asia – he did it again." She continued somewhat breathlessly, the confession quiet.
Sasha shifted her eyes back to Kara's green ones. "Danny looks at you that way." Her head inclining as she spoke resolutely. "When you love someone that much, it doesn't matter how long it takes, who they're with, or how far away they are. It doesn't stop." Kara licked her lower lip and swallowed, considering Sasha's admission.
"The good news is that you're already married. And neither one of you is pretending not to be in love." Sasha quipped, quirking her left eyebrow. "Be patient with him, it might not look like it, but he is working his way back to you and Frankie. In the only way he knows how."
Kara nodded softly and blinked a few times. "I really hope you're right. Lately it feels like all I do is make it worse. I try and give him space, don't pry – but he still won't tell me what's going on in his head. Half the time, it's like he's not even here. I don't know what will happen when I go back to the James, and he's cleared for missions again." Her tone was sullen, a little bitter, and Sasha looked down, trying to suppress the guilt she harbored for her part in all this.
"You guys remind me of us – right people, tough circumstances."
Kara snorted, "I don't think you and the Admiral got pregnant on a ship in the same command."
Sasha was prepared for that retort and paused, raising her left eyebrow as her eyes twinkled with amusement. "Not quite – but he was my teacher at the academy." She confessed quietly. Kara's mouth fell open, and she blinked rapidly, the implication coloring her incredulous, and she absently noted that Danny's guess had been right all along. The ease with which their Captain had accepted the relationship after the vaccine trials suddenly made a lot more sense. "Can't help who you fall in love with. Frat rules be dammed." Sasha quipped.
Kara's mouth quirked downward at the corners, and she nodded, raising her glass to Sasha. "That, I can drink to," she agreed before knocking the amber liquid back, wincing as it burned a fiery path down her throat.
Russ whistled one long sharp tone over the noise of the group drawing their attention. In a few short moments, the music was paused, and everyone gathered in the living room. He beamed at the faces before him, unexpectedly emotional when he considered how hard they'd all fought to be here. Remembering the sacrifices and strife it had taken to enjoy something as simple as a birthday party again.
"Alright, where are my birthday people at?" he called, his warm timbre echoing around the room. Ashley poked her head out from behind Burk and stepped forward, tugging the ends of her sweater to cover her hands in a nervous gesture. Russ smiled encouragingly at her and inclined his head at Tom, who was still lingering by the fireplace. "You too, Admiral." Mike clapped him on the back and pushed him forward, taking the beer out of Tom's hand as he did it. When Tom had sauntered over, he put his arm around Ashely as they stood at the center of the room.
"I know you're not much into speeches – we'll have more than our share of those in a few short weeks," Russ started, earning a few appreciative nods and chuckles from the crowd before he continued. "So I'll keep it simple. Each of us is blessed to be here today – family is what you make it, and I could not be more humbled to stand here with you all. Nor could I be more honored to serve amongst you."
"Here here," Mike called, raising his bottle. Russ nodded once in acknowledgment at him.
"So, without further a do – Ashely, Admiral –" On cue, Sasha and Kara appeared from the kitchen, each carrying cakes. Danny set down a small table in front of Tom and Ashely, and they placed them down, candles dancing wildly in the shifting air.
"Happy Birthday to you," Russ started the group off, and they enthusiastically joined in. Sasha watched as Tom leaned closer, inspecting the design. The frosting made it resemble an AARP card, in-fact, it was an exact replica, right down to the membership number, and he barked with laughter when he read it. "123UROLD" signed off with "Happy 50th Birthday" at the bottom. He looked up at Sasha, catching the shit-eating grin she was giving him as she sang. Tom tipped his head, mouthing the word "cute" silently.
Sasha winked back, trying to ignore the palpitation of her heart. All of a sudden, she was struck by how happy and carefree he looked. How easy his wide smile was. How beautifully his cheeks dimpled. In an instant, she was thrust back almost two decades, when her only concern had been how to stop crushing on her distractingly handsome instructor, and a sense of profound peace settled upon her.
Tom didn't have time to interpret Sasha's expression because the drawn-out notes of "youuuu" rang through the room, signifying his need to blow out the candles. When the claps, cheers, and commotion died down enough for him to glance over to her again, the look was gone.
Sometime close to midnight, Sam was regretting not taking a nap in the car. His eyes drooped heavily – sated from the overabundance of food and cake he'd dutifully consumed. Wolf laughed at him when he walked by to re-join Azima on the dancefloor, and Sam could only half muster a nod in response, sinking deeper into the cushions of the sofa.
They were swaying gently together. Tom's left hand in the small of her back, and his right holding hers against his chest. Sasha had kicked off her boots a while ago, and her toes dug into the rug's soft fibers as they danced. A variety of genres had played throughout the evening, but as with any respectable party, the time for overplayed love ballads and clichéd classics had come. Sasha laughed in a soft breath as the familiar notes of that stupid James Blunt song floated through the room, recalling how inescapable it had been.
She felt Tom's chest reverberate against her cheek as he spoke, "Oh come on, how can you not love this song?" he teased. Guiding them in a small circle perfectly on tempo.
"You can't be serious," she drawled, pulling her head back to catch his expression. Tom looked down at her, a gentle smile at his lips, eyes narrowed slightly with the effects of the alcohol they'd both consumed. A playfulness twinkled in the depths of blue.
"I saw an angel, of that I'm sure. She smiled at me on the subway. She was with another man!" He sang, dipping her suddenly for dramatic effect. Sasha's bemused laughter filled his ears, and she let out a startled but gleeful yelp when he lowered her. She relaxed quickly once she figured out what was going on, secure as ever that he wouldn't let her fall. Tom held her there for a few moments, no longer singing, rather admiring how beautiful she was, and Sasha felt a blush creep up her neck. He drew her up again, and she shook her head in amusement.
"I don't even know where to begin," she laughed, unsure whether to be more shocked that he knew the words or that he appeared to like it.
A boyish smirk pulled at his lips. "It's not so bad," he replied – coy. "You pretend not to be, but you know you're a hopeless romantic at heart," Tom teased. Sasha's mouth fell open, and she scoffed though the smirk told him her offense was sarcastic in nature.
"Says the Admiral singing you're beautiful to his wife in front of his sailors." Her right eyebrow lifted as she tried to goad him into conceding, but he didn't react. Merely drew his hand away from her back to palm the side of her jaw instead – his fingers sliding through her smooth hair and resting there.
"The Admiral is about to kiss his wife in front of his sailors," he warned, giving her but a fraction of a second to react before capturing her lips in a loving kiss.
Mike watched from the rear porch as he puffed on a cigar, a reserved smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he saw Tom dip Sasha. The sounds of her laughter floated through the open French Doors before being lost to the night. It was cool, dew settling and glistening as it clung to the blades of grass and wooden decking. A head of strawberry blonde appeared in his peripheral, Andrea, and he inclined his head tightly at her in greeting. Not missing the reflection of everything he was feeling written across her face.
They'd all lost people. All known the darkness and despair. Some, years before the Red-Flu – like Russ. Others, quickly – like him, not one day after Captain Chandler uncovered the ugly truth from their scientist. Some, like Tom, knew their families were still out there, waiting for their return. But others, too many others like Andrea, had no news from home. Had nothing but blind faith to carry them through, only to learn the devastating truth upon docking in Norfolk. Everything they held dear was gone.
Some days, Mike still lived in that limbo. Almost convinced that if he just waited a little bit longer, he'd be spared. That Christine and his girls would suddenly reach out to him as if from thin air. Despite logic, reason, and fact – he still hoped. Andrea understood that better than anyone. It was the reason he hated downtime. Why he kept busy, why he didn't like to linger too long as others moved forward with their lives, and he stayed stuck. Stuck replaying the awful conversation he'd last had with his wife, the months of fighting before his departure. The fact that in hindsight, it had been petty and insignificant and the fact that he'd cut off his right arm with a dull knife just to see them again.
Andrea gave him a soft smile, her round blue eyes kind and empathetic because she, too, was feeling a little melancholy. "Doesn't get any easier does it," she commented quietly, sipping from a glass of water.
Mike swallowed against the lump in his throat, his teeth clicking as he sighed. "No." It was quiet, softer than his usual bravado. Andrea nodded softly, noticing the glassiness of his eyes. She reached a hand out discreetly, covering his fingers with her own – surprised by just how nervous she felt. Not realizing that she was afraid of his rejection until she'd done it. Until she'd felt her breath hitch and her heartbeat increase as she waited for him to respond. Mike's fingers twitched, a moment of indecision sweeping him before he turned his palm and took her hand.
They stayed that way in silence, observing the happy couples dancing together though Mike's attention was now drawn to the petite woman beside him. Andrea's soft hum of approval and wistful expression when Tom kissed Sasha, warming him in a way that it hadn't before. His eyes softened, crow's feet wrinkling at the corners. Perhaps it was time to think about moving on.