Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles,

Ch32 – "Recovery"

A/N: AU. What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

A/N – link to Canon Episodes: none. We are decades into "post-canon"

A/N: Publication date: 17-01-2021: An update for my readers and tanks for your kind comments.

Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC

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Sunday July 12th 2020, 20:14hrs EST

Superintendent's Apartment: The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:

Harm answered the ringing phone as he completed the clean-up in the kitchen. Bachelor status did not prevent him from cooking wholesome food on a Sunday.

As Caitlin began speaking, he sensed the tension – and terror – in her voice.

"Harm, have you seen the news? Turn on the TV. There's been a fire on board Trisha's ship. She and RV are currently listed as missing."

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Monday July 13th 2020, 08:45hrs PST

Driving south from La Jolla towards Naval Base San Diego:

There are few things sadder than watching a ship die.

Driving southbound towards San Diego from La Jolla, Caitlin could see the dirty smudge on the horizon which marked the location of the "Bonhomme Richard" as she continued to burn in the San Diego Naval Dockyard.

The ship would continue to burn for a further four days and, by Christmas of 2020, the Department of the Navy would have made the economic decision to scrap her. Even though she was only half-way through her planned working life, the remediation costs (along with the risk that the fire had weakened her actual structure) would lead to the decision. Instead, the remediation budget would be directed to establishing a brand new hull, fit for the operational demands of the 2020s rather than the 1990s.

By late on Sunday night (Annapolis time), Caitlin had informed Harm of the grim but optimistic message that their daughter had been located and recovered, but was in the burns unit of the base infirmary.

The Engineering Department supervisor for the San Diego dockyard had called Harm personally as soon as Trisha and RV had been recovered and to pass on to them an initial assessment, from the medics, of the prognosis.

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Monday July 13th 2020, 09:59hrs PST

Burns unit, Base hospital, San Diego Naval Base:

"OK doctor, how is my daughter after the overnight operation?"

Caitlin eventually identified the odd aroma which wafted into her nostrils as she entered her daughter's room. Human hair which has been burned or singed has a particularly acrid aroma.

The exhausted surgeon smiled, wanly, as she took Caitlin's hands in hers. "It's all good, Mrs Rabb. There was far less damage than we had initially feared when Trisha was brought in here last night."

"OK Doc, but as a lawyer I know that 'less damage' could still mean "life-changing damage", so *please* level with me. I brought her into this world over 20 years ago and her father, running Annapolis, is calling me every damn' hour!"

Caitlin edged past the surgeon and peeked into the room. The person laying in the bed was almost-entirely swathed in white bandages. Just then, Caitlin's spirits were lifted by the voice which hailed her from behind.

"Mrs Rabb; thank god!"

She turned, to be greeted by the sight of RV Galindez approaching her in a wheelchair propelled by an orderly. The reason for RV's need for "external propulsion" was clear – two legs in plaster and a plastered arm holding the elbow in a 90-degree alignment.

"Oh God, RV! What the hell happened?" Caitlin knelt down to get face-to-face with him, just momentarily forgetting about her daughter and the surgeon behind her.

"Well, Mrs Rabb, we had a lucky escape." He turned to the surgeon. "Doc, is the ship still burning?"

"Oh heck yes – they're bombing it with water from helicopters today on day two of the fire", she affirmed.

RV's gaze moved past Caitlin to Trisha's bed and he looked up at the orderly, pointing his one functional arm in her direction.

The orderly parked RV's wheelchair alongside Trisha's bed and set the brake, before withdrawing. Caitlin pulled the two chairs across and gestured for the surgeon to sit alongside her.

"RV, if you can bear with us for a few minutes, please? Doc, OK, what is the state of play with my daughter?"

"Your daughter is incredibly lucky." The surgeon turned and looked at RV. "We believe – from where she and you were found beneath the escape hatch – that you both got out and that she left last and landed on top of you – fifteen feet down, onto a steel deck."

RV shrugged. "That fits with my hazy memory – I do remember hitting the deck hellishly hard and I remember Trisha's perfume as I passed out before waking up here…"

He looked at Caitlin. "Darn, we were just so lucky. The fire alarm in the aft end of the ship had triggered but we didn't hear it. It seems that half the fire defence systems on board had been disabled or decommissioned for the refit. Trisha and I were deploying software and then all of a sudden, there was a sheet of flame across the hatch doorway and a smell of burning. I looked at TP, she looked at me and then the lights went out – which is *NOT* supposed to happen."

He drew a shuddering breath before continuing.

"Trisha told me to save the software on my laptop – we were so deep in the bowels of the hull that we had no data signal and she didn't want to lose 24hours of software development and fixes, because we only had access to this hull for a short time. We turned to go and then another explosion blew superheated air into our workspace. She grabbed me and pulled be lower, beneath the flashover, then she pushed me up the companionway ahead of her all the way and then – I don't know how she did this – she rode my ass all the way up the staircase towards the light and she rammed me through the doorway…" He grinned sheepishly: "and then she launched me into open space – some way above the deck!"

Caitlin gently squeezed his one good hand, before turning to the surgeon. "So, Doc…?"

"She has burns, obviously; fortunately, both of them were wearing the correct flameproof coveralls and safety workboots, so the hot air scorched up her trouser legs and the back of her neck just as she dove out of the hatch into space. She has lost the hair (and the hairs) on her back, the back of her legs and on the back of her head and her hands, but we don't think that anything is beyond first-degree burns so she should heal. There is just one area which gives me concern."

Caitlin looked up. "Yes?"

"Just at the nape of her neck – the manufacturer's label for the coveralls, it turns out, was *not* fire-retardant. It has melted into her skin. She will, eventually, heal."

"Oh Thank God". Caitlin was beyond overjoyed. Her young lioness was going to be OK.

It was time to call her husband. "RV, might I offer to wheel you down to a coffee lounge? I need to track down the Admiral, back in Annapolis and to update him.""

"No thanks, Mrs Rabb; I just want to stay with the heroine who saved my life." RV turned, reaching out for Trisha's right hand, which lay on the bed. Grasping the USNA ring, he began to gently rotate it around Trisha's fingers.

Caitlyn now knew that both of these young people would be ok – RV was there to watch over her daughter and he clearly was going to guard her determinedly – even with three broken limbs!

"Typical jarhead!" she thought to herself smiling broadly.

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Saturday 25th July 2020 – 11:55hrs EST

Home of Tom and Trish Rabb-Boone, Hidden Valley, La Jolla, CA 92037

"Hello darlings, welcome to our home. Come on in Trisha, RV: welcome and we are proud to have you with us for the convalescence."

Trisha Rabb-Boone and her husband Tom had volunteered to make space available for Trisha and RV during their recuperation. RV had another six to eight weeks in plaster before commencing his physical therapy, whilst Trisha was now just in need of daily dressing changes and salt water bathing to help her burns to heal.

Both Trisha and RV had admitted that they had been incredibly lucky. Better yet, RV's ruggedized laptop had survived the impact with the deck of the "Bonhomme Richard" and their project was on track. OK, technically it was on ice, but it was ready to resume when the two main protagonists were signed off as fit for duty! Their project was, clearly, dependent upon the fate of the hull.

"Hey grandpa; thanks for the offer. It's great to be here while we recover."

"You are more than welcome, Trisha – along with your young man."

By this stage, with everything that had gone on in the hospital, Trisha and RV were feeling more confident – and less reticent – about beginning to "come out" as an item.

Where this would lead, they had no idea. But sitting by the Pacific for a few weeks could very well become the aphrodisiac needed to get them talking, Tom and Trish realised as they settled the two injured youngsters into the sun lounge facing west.

Harm would be arriving within the hour, for a short stopover. The Covid-19 crisis was still wreaking havoc to the planned lessons at USNA and the problems needed to be resolved.

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End Ch32 – "Recovery"

Mike, UK, 17-Jan-2021