One Year Later - December 2017

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Mike stood at the rail, staring into the darkness. Wishing that, instead of standing on the deck of the Nathan James, he was currently on a hotel patio in St. Louis, smoking a cigar and watching the crew celebrate the conclusion of another year. Tonight, there would be no celebration. Not just for Mike, but for any of them. Duty had called and Mike - along with Tom and Kara and ninety-nine other members of his former crew - was spending Christmas Eve silently sailing towards Cuba while the remainder of the Nathan James' original crew was spread from Columbia to Florida.

The ones who still survived, anyway.

After close to two years of relative safety, Mayport had been a harsh reminder of how precarious their lives remained. The loss of the Michener, the O'Connor, and the Cruz was upsetting. The loss of over two-hundred sailors under his command, many of whom he had never even met, was devastating.

Mike squeezed his fist around the ring he held in his palm, feeling the sharp edges of the diamond cutting into his skin. This was not how tonight was supposed to go. It was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter in his life, one that he couldn't have imagined five years ago when Christine was still alive and Andrea was no more than a trusted colleague and casual friend. Someone who he saw on the Nathan James or at family barbeques and softball games, where Hannah and Lily played in the same league. Back then, he never would have believed that she would someday become the most important person in his world.

The person who made him look forward to tomorrow.

Two years ago when they started their relationship, Mike's expectations were low. Hell, that first kiss had been nothing more than an impulse, and he spent the six months following trying to decide whether it had been a mistake. With that first hurdle passed, Mike pictured a low-key affair without demands or pressure. And then he woke up one day after a restless night of sleep, his own bed not nearly as comfortable as the one at Andrea's place, and realized that he didn't want to sleep alone anymore. Or eat dinner alone or spend his Sunday mornings or Tuesday nights at his place while Andrea stayed at hers. He didn't want to have to answer more of Reiss's annoying questions about the exact nature of their relationship or check if anyone was looking before he wrapped his arm around her in public. He wanted to spend as much time as they could together, knowing only too well that tomorrow wasn't guaranteed, and he wanted everyone in the world to know exactly how he felt.

But he also didn't want to scare or rush Andrea. So he had moved forward slowly, deliberately. First, mentioning marriage. Next, having Christine formally declared dead. Then cleaning out and selling the house in Norfolk. Finally, buying the ring, intending to give it to her tonight.

And then came Mayport and all his plans went down the toilet.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Mike glanced over his shoulder as Kara joined him at the rail. "I want a cigar but apparently the Captain doesn't allow smoking on the ship."

Kara chuckled. "I might make an exception tonight. It is Christmas Eve."

"Too bad I left my cigar case in Mayport." Mike paused, weighing his words as he twisted the ring between his fingers. "Any news from Green?"

"Nothing." Kara's voice was tight, the way it always seemed to be when Danny's name came up these days. Not for the first time, Mike wished that he was better at those inspirational speeches which Tom seemed to pull out of his ass at will.

"No news is good news," he replied. "If there was a problem, they would have reached out."

"Assuming they could," Kara replied, her voice a whisper. Her eyes dropped to Mike's hand. "Is that the ring?"

Mike looked down, realizing that it probably wasn't the best idea to fiddle with a diamond engagement ring sixty feet above the open ocean. "Yup. Sasha helped me pick it out. Said it was nice but not too flashy."

Kara touched his arm gently. "She's going to say yes, Mike."

He sighed, slipping the ring back into the shirt pocket where it had been sitting for the past month. "It's hard doing what we do, Kara. I'm not going to say that Danny's gone about things in the right way but he loves you. Don't discount how much that means."

"I won't." Kara turned, moving back into the darkness, before pausing. "And Mike, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he replied, his eyes returning to the open water. Hoping that next Christmas Eve he would be standing on the patio of a St. Louis hotel, smoking a cigar, as he and Andrea watched the party inside.