A/N - why yes, it's April. But I got a bit inspired and a few people asked so...here you go. This isn't a pairing that I have written before this story so hopefully it works! Post-season 4. xoxo - tmtcltb

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One Year Later

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Andrea Garnett stood on the patio of the hotel, a sprig of mistletoe in her hand, wondering what the hell she was doing.

Through the windows, she could see the Nathan James' crew letting loose. Two years ago, when the Nathan James first arrived in St. Louis, there had been a sense of jubilation. Yes, many of them were mourning devastating losses. They were exhausted, both mentally and physically, and their ship was in pieces. But there had been a sense of hope. A sense that the worst was behind them, and that this could be a new start for everyone.

Last year, that hope had been muted by the events in Asia and by the murder of President Michener. Yet, in retrospect, Andrea could see how much optimism remained. The United States was in the process of rebuilding, with a good man in charge. The Navy had regrouped and was moving towards opening bases on four continents, with solid defense and mutual trade deals in place with many more. People were falling in love, getting married, even having babies again.

And then the Red Rust hit and it all went to shit.

For most of the people, the past year had been a harsh reminder that the pre-virus world no longer existed. Entire countries were gone, their populations decimated not only by the Red Flu and the Red Rust, but also by nuclear and biological warfare. Food shortages were now the norm, with preventable diseases making a comeback due to lack of medical care. And the United States was only beginning the grim task of reconciling the birth and death records, as well as identifying the scores of bodies buried in mass graves.

For the world, 2016 had not been a good year. But for Andrea, the last year had also been a chance to heal.

As CNO, she worked longer hours, but the work was less all-consuming than her time on the Nathan James. Yes, the lives of thousands of sailors now rested on her shoulders, and Andrea never took that responsibility lightly, but issuing an order based on the analyses and recommendation of her team was very different than looking a sailor in the eye and making a snap decision that might kill him. And, at night, when she went home, she was alone. Giving her time to think, to reflect on all that had happened, and begin to accept that her life was irreparably changed.

At the recommendation of the resident White House therapist - a position that Andrea thought probably qualified as the worst job on the planet given the horrors that the woman listened to daily - she selected a cemetery plot for Bill and Lily and installed a gravestone. Although she had no bodies or even ashes, she filled the casket with some of their favorite items. Bill's reading glasses, one of Lily's beloved stuffed animals, a picture of the three of them in Hawaii for Lily's tenth birthday. Andrea had been surprised to find how comforting it was to visit the spot. To settle herself on the grass and trim the lilies while she talked. At first all she had done was cry - cry and apologize for being too late to save them. But as time went on, Andrea found herself simply chatting about her days. Telling a story about Howard Oliver wearing different colored socks to a meeting that Bill would have found amusing. Mentioning the pink, sequined, unicorn shirt that she saw in a store and knew Lily would have loved.

And, more and more, she found herself talking about Mike.

Despite no longer being on the same ship, they continued to speak daily. Mostly about work, especially during the crisis in the Mediterranean. But also about the crew, their friends, their lives. Mike shared stories about Frankie, and even when they were ones that Andrea had already heard from Kara, she enjoyed the way that Mike told the tales. Every word that he spoke held a note of nostalgia, the stories often leading to exchanging memories of their own children. They talked about Tom, and Darien and Sasha and Fletcher, and that led to conversations about Bill and Christine. Sometimes they even shared dreams for the future. New dreams, ones that focused on beach houses and dogs.

But neither of them ever mentioned what happened last Christmas Eve.

Andrea smiled as the patio doors opened and Ray Diaz appeared, pulling Kat Nolan after him. Neither noticed Andrea as Kat dragged Ray's head to her for a kiss, giggling when Ray stumbled backwards.

"Are we ignoring the fraternity rules tonight, then?"

Andrea glanced over a shoulder to see Mike appearing from the depths of the patio, cigar in hand, feeling her entire body relax at the sight of him. He hadn't forgotten. She replied loudly enough for her voice to carry. "I swear that I signed Seaman Diaz's transfer papers last week. There must be a lag."

Ray spun so quickly that he almost knocked Kat flat on her ass. "Sir! Ma'am!"

Kat, always her father's daughter, took the interruption more in stride. "Captain Slattery, Commander Garnett, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Nolan," Mike replied, striking a match to light his cigar.

Andrea watched as the couple disappeared back inside, joining a crowd of other young folks eating pastries and taking bets as they watched Russ Jeter and Bernie Cowley engage in what appeared to be an intense game of chess. Andrea's eyes were drawn to Tom, who stood with Sasha at his side, chatting with Kara and Danny. The latter sat with one leg propped up in a chair, not yet entirely recovered from his injuries in Malta.

She glanced at Mike. "You know Cooper better than me. Think they'll make it?"

Mike followed her gaze. He puffed on his cigar silently for a minute. "I think they both want it to work this time. And sometimes that's enough."

Andrea considered his words, rolling them around in her head. "Isn't there some saying that half of marriage is showing up?"

"You showed up," Mike replied, his voice softer than she expected.

She turned, meeting his eyes. "Yes, I did." She lifted her hand. "I even brought my own mistletoe."

The corner of Mike's eyes crinkled as his lips curled. He set his cigar to the side before pulling something out of his pocket. "So did I."

Andrea stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Mike's waist. "Well then, sailor, you know the drill."

His lips settled on hers, and this time Andrea was ready. She leaned into him as she relaxed into the kiss, pressing up on her tip-toes so he wasn't bending so far. Enjoying the lingering taste of whiskey and even the scent of his cigar.

Andrea pulled away first, reaching up to brush her fingers across his cheek. "Interested in repeating this next weekend?"

"The President's New Year's Eve ball?" Mike asked, eyebrows raising. It was a daring suggestion, the two of them attending Oliver's event together. As a couple. His lips curved. "It's a date."