Chapter 35: I Am The Fire

March 28th, 2014 - 1800 (6:00 pm)

"It's a boy, it's a boy, it's a boy, my brother is a boy! I TOLD YOU SO!"

Rachel could do nothing but laugh as Sam raced around the mess, up and down the aisles full of sailors trying to eat dinner, chanting about how his baby sibling was a boy. Most of the crew was highly amused as well, smiling and laughing and offering high fives to the rambunctious child. Sam stopped to share some sort of complicated hand shake with Cruz that ended in a loud and dramatic explosion, and then he was off, bouncing back to their table.

"It's a boy!"

Jed chuckled, reaching out to haul Sam into his lap.

"Yes, we heard," he said calmly, wrapping one arm around Sam's waist to keep him contained while they continued to eat.

"So is Ms. Foster's baby! There are going to be three boys now," Sam said wisely, reaching out to grab a chicken tender off of his plate and bite into it. "Mommy, Daddy," he said, addressing Rachel and Tom (and Rachel's heart would never not skip a beat when he called her that). "What are you going to name my brother? Ms. Foster is naming her baby Frankie, so we can't name him that."

"Well, love," Rachel said, accepting the cup of yogurt that Tom passed her without complaint. "We don't know yet. Do you have any ideas?"

"I have lots of ideas of what to name my brother!" Sam said happily, and then held up his hand, raising a finger with each suggestion. "We could name him Sam 2, Bolt, Tommy, after Daddy, or we could name him Jace, after my best friend before everyone got sick! Or, we could name him after the ship. He could be called Nathan or James, or both!"

"Those are good ideas," Tom said, placating the boy - though he knew that they wouldn't use any of them. "Ashley, what about you?"

The girl shrugged, but looked thoughtful. "I think he should have a name that's just his. We shouldn't name him after anyone. That way, when people say his name or talk to him or whatever, he won't remind them of anything. Like, if we named him Nathan, people would always be reminded of the ship. And it's a good ship, but there are a lot of sad memories here, too."

"You," Rachel said, leaning over to kiss Ashley's hair. "Are wise beyond your years, love. I think that's a great suggestion. A name that's just his."

Ashley smiled and blushed as she took another bite of her dinner.

"What's the last name gonna be?" Jed asked, and Rachel answered before Tom had the chance to open his mouth.

"Chandler, just like mine."

Tom turned to look at her in surprise. They hadn't had this conversation yet, but he had been under the impression that Rachel would want to keep her last name when they eventually got married, though he had hoped she would be open to taking his, at least personally if not professionally. She caught his look of shock and continued, placing her hand on his arm as she spoke.

"I've thought a lot about it. When we get married, I want to take on your name. The name Dr. Scott has become... famous, for lack of a better word. And I know that, to the world, Dr. Rachel Scott will always be the one who created the cure to the Red Flu. And that's OK, in professional circles. But for us, for our family, I would like to be Rachel Chandler. Because being known as part of our family is more important to me than being known for creating the cure."

"I love you," Tom said simply, smiling at her from his place across the table. "Rachel, you're family no matter what, but I would love for you to take my last name, if that's what you want."

Rachel smiled and nodded, her cheeks pink with happiness. "Yes, it's what I want."

"Well that makes it easier," Jed said. "Knowing the last name. Easier to match a first and middle name, make sure it all fits together."

"Yeah!" Ashley piped up, a smirk on her lips now. "I had a friend at school whose initials were 'DMB' and people called her 'dumb' a lot. We can't let that happen to our brother."

Tom chuckled, agreeing with his daughter's assessment. "All right then. Ideas? Let's start a list."

Everyone at the table thought for a second, and then started tossing out ideas. Rachel kept track of them by writing them down on the back of a file she had brought to dinner with them. It was the list of items they needed at the next stop, which they were meeting over after dinner, but she didn't think it would matter.

By the time Jed was ready to take the kids to the deck to run off some energy so Tom and Rachel could get to their meeting, they had a solid list of names that no one had vetoed. Names like John and Jackson got canned under the 'too popular' excuse, and Jamie, Jameson and Nathaniel were rejected as being too similar to the ship's name. Nicholas had been vetoed by Tom immediately as being too similar to Nikolai, which would be a name that would forever haunt his and Rachel's memory. In the end, they had a small list of about ten ideas, and Rachel felt confident that she and Tom would be able to agree on one by the time the baby was born, if not sooner.

As they cleaned up their table and began walking toward the conference room to meet with Mike, Jeter, and the land recon team, Tom wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing a quick kiss into her hair as they entered the p-way.

"I'm partial to Joshua or William," he said, and Rachel smiled. She liked both of those, too.

"Mm. Both good names. I think we'll know when we find the right one, though."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I think we will."

March 28th, 2014 - 1900 (7:00 pm)

"The list this time is going to be a little longer," Rachel apologized in advance as she sat down heavily at the conference table. She blew out a breath, rubbing her belly as she handed out copies of the list to the recon team. "However, the area we're stopping at in Australia has an entire outlet mall within two miles of the lab we're planning on visiting, and Kara is close to 32 weeks pregnant, aboard a ship and under a tremendous amount of stress. We need to be prepared should she go into labor early."

Most of the men around the table looked uncomfortable at the mention of labor, but Rachel soldiered on; it was only going to get worse in a second.

"We are covered with medical equipment for the birth, and have infant intubation and resuscitation supplies, should they be necessary. While Kara and I are both planning on breastfeeding if possible, we need formula and bottles as backup in case our milk supply doesn't come in right away or the baby can't latch. Cloth diapers would be ideal, but harder to find, so disposable will have to do. I have quantities and sizes listed; if you could find as close to what I'm requesting as possible, that would be tremendously helpful."

"Why do you need two dozen 0-3 month sleepers and onesies?" Tex asked, staring at the list in confusion. "The fuck is a onesie, anyway?"

"There are many things that people say they need for babies that are, in fact, quite unnecessary. However, onesies and sleepers are not among those items. A baby will go through that in a week, easy, and we don't want to put a strain on those assigned to laundry duty. You'll notice the numbers are less as they increase in size - older babies spit up a lot less and need changed less frequently."

"Huh," Tex said, scanning the list and noticing that she had, indeed, requested less of the clothing for the 12 and 18 month sizes.

"Also," Rachel added, "We're hoping to be on land before Kara's baby is too big. This is just in case. Since you're already going to be there, we'd like to cover most of our bases just in case land still isn't safe when we return from the mission. She's three months ahead of me, so I can reuse everything she has, so no need to get anything special for this one," she said, rubbing her bump.

"Still don't know what a onesie is," Tex said, and Tom laughed from his side of the table.

"Don't you have a daughter, man?" he asked, and Tex shot him a look.

"Just cause I dressed her when she was a baby doesn't mean I know the names of the clothes. Is a onesie like that swimsuit thing babies wear?"

"Yes, Tex," Rachel said, chuckling at his confusion. "It is kind of like a swimsuit with sleeves. They're especially good for newborns; easy to change them in and out of. They can be pulled off over the head or feet, which is especially important when there's a blowout. Two dozen would be a minimum. Any boy or gender neutral colors and patterns. You can grab multiple of the same design as long as it's the correct size, it doesn't matter. We need roughly the same number for 3-6 months and 6-9 months."

There was silence as they reviewed the list for a few more moments, before Tex spoke again.

"Holy shit... literally! How can something so small shit so much? You need how many diapers?"

"And that," Rachel said, wincing. "Is why I said cloth would be ideal. They're harder to find in traditional stores, however, but I listed sizes and quantities on there as well, in case you do find them. Cloth diapers also adjust in size so the same ones fit for close to a year, so, obviously, they would be better."

"700 of each size, holy fuck."

"Don't be too dramatic, Tex," Rachel said, rolling her eyes. "The come in boxes of 200, so it's not actually that much."

Lieutenant Johnson, a new addition to the recon team, scoffed as Rachel finished speaking. It didn't sound like an amused noise, so Tom cast a quick glance his way, raising an eyebrow.

"Something to add, Lieutenant?" he asked, his tone daring the man to say anything rude.

The lieutenant, newly promoted and having clearly not dealt with Tom much, did not heed the warning.

"I just think it's a little... I don't know, ridiculous? That we're risking our lives to find diapers. I don't think it should be our responsibility; we weren't the ones that couldn't keep it in our pants in the first place."

The entire room fell utterly silent.

Rachel turned her gaze to stare at the list, her cheeks flaming. She was clearly pregnant now, and the lieutenant didn't seem to care that she was able to hear every word he said (though she did wonder if he knew that the Captain of the ship was the father of this baby). However, while not the most diplomatic way to put it, he wasn't necessarily wrong. They were essentially asking a team to retrieve supplies for people who had broken regulations. She knew that not everyone would be happy about that, though she was appalled that he would be disrespectful about it in front of the Captain and Commander.

"Come again?" Tom asked after several moments, offering the young man a second chance to change his words.

Lieutenant Johnson did not take the second chance.

"I don't feel like I should have to risk my life to get diapers for someone who decided the regulations didn't apply to them. We should be focused on food, supplies for the crew, and fuel, not on ... their bastard," he said, waving to the list with clear disdain in his voice.

Silence fell again.

All eyes were on Tom, who was breathing deeply to control himself. He was angry, beyond angry, but he felt that maybe he shouldn't deal with this one; he was incapable of being partial, due to the fact that he was one of the ones who couldn't keep it in his pants and it was his partner who was pregnant.

"Mike," he said, and stood to his feet, stalking to the other side of the room. He crossed his arms and faced the wall, clenching his fists as he listened to his XO take over behind him.

"Lieutenant Johnson, a word outside please," Mike said stiffly, and the young man stood up quickly, having finally realized that he had made a mistake. Even if his words hadn't been disrespectful to the Captain in specific, he had spoken disrespectfully about a decision that his Captain and XO had already made.

Tom turned and followed them out of the room. He wouldn't necessarily be the one to speak, but he wanted to hear the conversation so he could take over if Mike didn't put the young sailor in his place. As he passed Rachel, he noticed how she wouldn't meet anyone's eyes and was now tearing the corner of the list to tiny pieces. He knew that she felt bad enough that she wasn't part of the team anymore; she didn't need this guilt on top of that.

"I apologize, commander," Lieutenant Johnson said, standing at attention as Tom exited the conference room and closed the door behind him. Johnson's eyes flickered nervously back and forth between the commander and the Captain.

"I understand you're upset about the situation," Mike said, beginning in a much more calm manner than Tom would have been able to manage. "But you do not have to be a part of this recon team if you're going to approach it with that attitude. There was no need for that, in there."

Johnson nodded stiffly, but Tom could see that he still believed that the mission was a waste of time.

"Speak freely, Lieutenant," Mike said. "Tell us why you're reacting this way."

Johnson took a breath in, and then spoke. "I believe that the people who broke the regulations and started a sexual relationship were given special treatment. They were not written up, disciplined, or demoted. And now we're risking lives to reward those choices."

Tom couldn't help himself. He stalked forward, but kept an arm's length between them so he didn't do something stupid like punch the man.

"The discipline of officers other than yourself is not your concern. The reason, circumstances, or choices that led to the creation of that baby are not your business. Regardless of who is having the child or how they came to be, the requisition of supplies to take care of a helpless, newborn infant should factor higher than your personal feelings on the matter. The world is in shambles, and if you don't care enough about an innocent child who has done nothing to deserve your ire to help get them basic supplies necessary for life, to call them a bastard, then I don't know if I want you on the Nathan James."

Silence fell over the p-way. Tom was still seething and, when Johnson didn't respond after several moments, he made a decision.

"You will no longer be part of the recon team. Please report to Master Chief Jeter for reassignment, effective immediately. Get out of my sight."

Turning on his heel, Tom stalked back into the conference room, closing the door behind him. He had managed to keep it mostly professional, he thought, and he didn't want to ruin that by turning around and putting the fear of God in the young Lieutenant.

When Mike reentered the room several minutes later, he was alone, and there was a collective sigh of relief from the room.

"All right, Doc," Tex said after a moment, trying to lighten the mood again. "Walk me through the necessity of 'Bordeaux's Butt Paste', please."

Rachel laughed, appreciating the effort. She knew for a fact that she hadn't put the brand name on the list, just 'diaper rash cream'. She shot Tex a smile, cleared her throat, and continued.

"You know good and well what it's for, Tex. All right, the rest of the list is pretty simple. Clothes, diapers, basic medical and hygiene supplies for infants, and formula and bottles should be the only things that are necessary. We can make do with what's on the ship for almost everything else. Any final questions about the list?"

The rest of the team shook their heads, and Tom concluded the meeting by letting everyone know that they would head out first thing in the morning and to meet on the deck at 0600.

Once everyone had left, Tom walked over to Rachel and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

Rachel nodded, gathering her papers and standing up.

"Yes, I'll be fine. He is entitled to his opinion."

Tom paused her by wrapping his fingers around her wrist and gently tugging until she was facing him.

"Hey," he said, and waited until she looked up to meet his eyes. It took several long moments, and when she did look up, he could see the steely resolve and anger in her eyes. Not what he had been expecting, but he shouldn't have been surprised.

"I'm not upset," she promised him. "Well, not in that way. I am angry on Kara's behalf, that someone would be so small minded to take out their frustration on her and her child that way. Regardless of the fact that Kara and Danny made a mistake by embarking on a personal relationship while in the Navy, he should not have spoken that way about a child. He's an arsehole."

"You're right," Tom agreed, and brushed his thumb over her cheek. His feisty, beautiful scientist. "He is an asshole."

Rachel smiled at him, and then looked curiously around the conference room, her attention clearly shifting.

"Do you still hide that good peanut butter in here somewhere?" she asked, and he laughed, shocked.

"How did you know about that?"

Rachel grinned, pecking him on the cheek.

"I am observant. Now chop, chop. Peanut butter sounds good. I need to eat more, remember? Doctor's orders."

"Oh, I like you," he said to her fondly, and went to reveal his top secret peanut butter hiding spot.

March 29th, 2014 - 12:00 (12:00 noon)

When the recon team returned that afternoon, it was with much more than Rachel had requested. They had apparently found a relatively untouched Target baby section and had wiped the place out.

Tex, who had gone with the recon team for protection rather than the team that was headed toward the lab, handed Rachel a box with a huge smile on his face.

"I know you said that your little one didn't need anything special. But we saw these, and couldn't help ourselves. Not everyone is a buttmunch like Johnson, some of us are excited for the new crew mates of the Nathan James."

Rachel smiled at her friend and took the box, opening it to find three items of clothing in various sizes. She looked at each of them and laughed, leaning up to kiss Tex on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said, and held up the purple t-shirt that said Big Sister next to the smaller, green one that said Big Brother. Left in the box was a soft, light blue sleeper that proclaimed Little Brother. "Sam and Ashley will love these."

"Thought they might. Has the Captain's team reported back yet?"

Rachel shook her head, though she wasn't worried yet. They weren't scheduled to check in again until later that afternoon. "No, but they did radio in earlier to say that they found the lab in fairly good condition. The people left aren't necessarily educated enough to understand how to create and distribute the vaccine without some significant help, so they may be there longer than expected. But it's all good news so far."

"That's good, then. Now, while we're waiting for the commodore to return, we should get all of this stuff unloaded and sorted. We got what you said you needed for Kara, but we also grabbed anything else we could find. It should give you and the Captain a good start with your little one as well. I know you're hoping to be on land by the time the little tyke is born, but it can't hurt to be prepared."

"Thank you, Tex," she said sincerely, and he shrugged, his hands in his pockets.

"It's what friends do. Now, come on. If we can get this all finished by dinner, I heard rumor that Bacon's making chocolate cake. I figure we can sneak in and guilt him out of a piece or two extra, on account of you being pregnant and needing to gain weight and all."

Rachel laughed and swatted him on the chest. "You're terrible."

"Be that as it may, chocolate cake, doc. Come on!"

Rachel smiled, watching as Tex started to grab boxes of diapers and clothes. She was about to move to help him when a thought occurred to her.

"Hey, Tex?" she asked, and he turned around, still grinning in the carefree way he always was. He was the perfect choice, she realized. He was an amazing friend, a good man, and he cared about her and her baby enough that he was always trying to get her to eat, protected them with his life, and was willing to stand up for her even though he knew very well that she could stand up for herself.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Do you want to be the baby's godfather?"

Tex dropped the box he was holding and walked over, picking Rachel up and swinging her around. She squealed, her eyes closing tightly as he swung her through the air. When he put her down he pulled back, his hands on her shoulders and a huge smile on his face.

"I would be honored, Rachel. I would be honored."

Rachel returned his smile, and then moved to help him with the boxes.

"Perfect. Now, about that chocolate cake..."

Tex laughed, and followed her into the ship.