an. I'm trying to move Tom in a more healthy direction than what played out in Season 5, I think he did some decent self-reflection during the sixteen-month absence and consequently, upon coming back and seeing the effect that his actions had on everyone he cares about. In my universe, he actually learned something from that and it stuck.

Content Warning: M

Tuesday, April 26th, 2016 – White House, St. Louis Missouri

Sasha was running late – badly. Had slept through her alarm, exhaustion finally getting the best of her. She was mildly pissed that Tom hadn't woken her. He knew she preferred to get to the office by 7:30 am. He, usually by 8:15 after dropping the kids at school, unless his schedule conflicted. But she also knew he believed she didn't get enough sleep. And so, he'd made the conscious choice to leave her be; would cover for her if he had to until she showed up. It was clear her body was trying to tell her something, and she wasn't listening.

It was nearly ten by the time she got there; had so much to do that mildly pissed had turned into full irritability, and she fully intended to confront him later. For now, she needed to get back to work. President Oliver had granted her Vulture Team, and she'd been given a Special Forces Green Beret to take Burks position. Nathan James couldn't afford to lose all of them. Currently, she had managed to get civilian assets in town to feed her information on local non-profit groups. Posed as a former combat medic, she'd started emailing those groups to find an insertion point. Uncovered intel about the rebels' activities naturally by tracing the villages they were supporting and had mapped the patterns over a period of weeks. They now had a plausible idea of the Rebels base camp as well as the name of their leader.

That's where they would start. A local Christian based organization was set up about 20 clicks south of the suspected target whose mission was to provide aid and medical care to the locals. She, along with Wolf, Green, Azima, and Brown, were scheduled to join the camp on the 4th. Now they needed to set up weapons supplies to stash strategically through the jungle. Undetected. They were also cramming material to make sure their medical knowledge held up to snuff.

She stopped in her tracks when she opened the door to her office. There was a bouquet of white roses on her desk.

She blinked.

Hovered in the threshold for a moment, the internal rampage effectively snuffed out. She closed the door and set her things in the armchair, coming to inspect them. Her thin fingers touched the soft petals, they looked freshly cut, and they clearly hadn't come from a florist. Those didn't exist anymore.

He'd stuck a post-it to the stems, and she read it.

These took me three weeks to find. Happy anniversary – Tom

All of a sudden, she was blinking back tears, her lip quivering. She sat down in the chair and got a hold of herself quickly, almost embarrassed by the fact that some flowers from him could reduce her so quickly. It was the baggage behind it that caught up with her. April 26th. The day they'd first kissed, nineteen years ago. She hadn't even remembered, so wrapped up in the mission that it had slipped her mind – but he had. Things had been strained. He was distant; she not much better. Too stubborn and unsure of how to keep moving forward. It felt like they were going in big elaborate circles, slave to one of the two Achilles heels in their relationship. Kids and careers.

Until their fight, she hadn't quite thought about the complexity of it. She'd believed it simple: he had the kids he'd wanted, she didn't, the perfect compromise. So now it would work, right? But it wasn't just that she didn't have kids; she also had nothing to hold her back. No responsibilities. No one whose life she was morally and legally responsible for. She had Tom, and though he understood better than anyone that the mission came first, he did have responsibilities. She hadn't really considered the predicament he'd be in emotionally with that. Sometimes he was so good at pretending she forgot how deeply he carried guilt. How surely, he felt responsible for her and his kids because of his love. How he'd turned away from his wife and children, and though it was the right thing to do – it had killed him. How they'd been used as a weapon against him, and his Father killed because of his mission. And she had to ask herself if the shoe were on the other foot, what would she do? At what point was enough, enough? How many more lives? How much more loss? What would it take?

She got up and walked purposefully to his office. The door was ajar, and he was making notes when she entered, the abruptness grasping his attention. He paused, pen hovering over paper as his head snapped up, lips slightly parted and eyebrows slanted in question.

Sasha hovered for a few seconds before decisively approaching him. Tom stilled in apprehension. He felt her hands grasp his face as she firmly placed her lips over his before pulling them away just as sharply.

"I love you." She spoke forcefully, her hands still holding his head, face just inches from his. "After this mission, if you ask me to stay, then I will. I mean it. I will choose you." She told him with conviction.

To say he was shocked would be a gross understatement. His expression immediately changed, and his eyes raced from side to side as he searched hers. "I accepted the position of CNO this morning." He breathed.

Ditto.

Her eyebrows rose as high as they could go. "You didn't have to do that," she stammered, trying to collect her thoughts; he hadn't even told her he was still considering it, thought his mind had been made up about retiring fully after he helped her straighten out the harder logistics. Didn't even think him returning to what essentially was the head of the Navy, almost Military at this point was an option. It was entirely out of left field. His eyes caressed her face.

"No. I didn't. But I chose to." He said, voice low. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Why?" she exhaled.

"Let's just say I got some perspective." His head nodded slightly to the left. She shot him a look that told him she still didn't understand. "Ashely." He answered. She raised her head slightly, and her lips parted. "She reminded me of some things that I'd forgotten… and, you were right." He paused, his eyes becoming tender as he spoke to her. "Just because I'm there in the house, doesn't mean I'm giving them a future. Not when it's like this." He finished.

It was like she could breathe again. Like the wind had finally flown their stalled sails. Couldn't help the astonished and hopeful smile that was spreading across her lips, she saw the same spark in his eyes as she had in Hong Kong when he'd had a dick measuring contest across the table with Peng. When he'd sauntered over to them on the tarmac and told her to get him to Vietnam. It was the same rushing adoration she'd felt when he'd given his speech to Meylan. The same when he'd taken the oath back in Greece. The same wonder she'd held at the sheer grace of his leadership in Asia. When everyone in the room had given up hope, their government disbanded, their loyalty and sacrifice cast harshly aside by Shaw, how one sentence from him had inspired a crew to do the impossible. How well he had served them all.

The same soaring of pride and greater purpose.

"Then let's do this." She whispered. Her hands were still grasping his face, and he bought his up to mirror her, pulling her to him as he gave her a kiss. His tongue darting out to meet hers as she tilted her head to the side. When they pulled apart, she gave him a small peck.

"Happy Anniversary," she whispered. His lips quirked, impish mischief sparking in his eyes.

"That mean you've forgiven me for letting you sleep?" he asked. And she blushed, made a humming sound.

"Not quite. But the flowers are beautiful and appreciated." She confirmed. He leaned back in his chair, looking at her again like she was the only thing in the world. All of his love, care, and attention focused on her. It made her knees weak, and butterflies erupt in her stomach – always had, from the first time he'd done it. She could feel another blush creeping up her cheeks, so she inhaled. Unable to hide the little smirk and forced herself to start retreating.

"I have to get back to work, Admiral." She said, tipping her head as she addressed him by rank.

"I'll see you at lunch, Cooper." Came his retort. Enjoying the way she laughed as she left.

It was a little past midnight, and the house was quiet save for the muffled footsteps Sasha heard descending the stairs. Ashely. She was light as a feather, easy to distinguish from her brothers' heavy footfalls and Tom's assured ones. She was sitting quietly in the armchair she preferred, the reading lamp on next to her buried beneath some kind of fluffy blanket Tom had brought home for her one day.

Ashely waved to her slightly, going to get water from the dispenser before she decided to join her. This had become somewhat of a routine for them over the past few months. One that Sasha cherished as it allowed her to build a natural bond that slowly let Ashely come out of her shell around her. She'd even told her about the crush she had, after promising she wouldn't tell Tom, of course.

"Hi friend," Sasha said coyly, looking up from her phone screen. Ashely padded over, falling dramatically onto the sofa and sprawled herself over it. "What's up? What are you doing?" she greeted casually.

"Playing Sudoku"

Ashley's features twisted into disgust; Math was her least favorite subject, and she couldn't imagine why anyone would purposefully do it, let alone play a game based around it. "Um, you're a nerd," she teased, earning a laugh from Sasha.

"Hey, nerds are cool. I can be cool." She defended. "Plus, I do a lot of calculations when I'm working, critical ones – this helps me stay sharp." She explained. She glanced over the top of the phone, the blue-white glow of the screen illuminating her eyes intensely. Ashley looked perplexed.

"Spy's still have to do Math?" the disappointment of it clear in her voice. Sasha smirked knowingly.

"Mmm-hmm." She confirmed, "I take it you're not a fan?"

Ash shook her head, no.

"Maybe you just haven't had the right teacher? I hated it too because I was only ever shown one way, and it never really made sense. Actually, it was your Dad that taught me how to do it easily." The recollection suddenly dawning on her as she bought the phone down and turner her head sideways.

"My Dad was your Math teacher?" Ashely clarified, utterly confused, unable to picture him doing anything else besides bossing people around on his ship. Sasha shook her head with amusement.

"Uh, No. Your Dad was my combat teacher. But there's a lot of calculations you have to do when you're setting up shots; adjusting for wind, distance, speed…"

Ashley was listening intently. She loved hearing about their work but approaching her Father was difficult. She'd made the mistake one time of asking what had happened after they were taken to safety by Kara, and she'd quickly learned to stop questioning. Didn't want her Dad to get that sad again. In fact, she mostly avoided any subject at all relating to work with him unless he bought it up first, or it was a "safe" topic. Their Grandpa always explained everything her dad couldn't. She missed him.

"That's cool," she said brightly. "Wait, if my Dad was your teacher and you guys dated, isn't that like, against the rules?" she suddenly realized, eliciting a deep blush from Sasha.

"Very," her entire body displaying the fact that she was a little uncomfortable admitting it, mostly because she didn't know if it was something he'd want her to know. Could just see a smart, sassy girl like Ashley throwing that at him the next time he told her to follow a rule she didn't like. The girl's nose wrinkled.

"My dad broke rules?" she asked incredulously.

Sasha gave her a look that perfectly communicated that she was not to use that information with improper intent. "Like I said, we were young. And stupid." She bought a finger up and pointed it at her. "And, I need you to pretend that I didn't tell you that." Raising her brows and dropping her chin at the roguish twinkle in Ashley's eyes.

"Okay, I won't. But only because you know my secrets, and you would totally tell my Dad if I ratted you out," came her retort to which Sasha laughed.

"Smart girl."

They simply smiled at each other for a moment before Sasha's expression grew more serious, "I heard you managed to talk some sense into him…" a little cautious, testing the waters. Not meaning to overly pry but wanting to open a line of communication between them, if she would allow it. It felt like they had a decent enough foundation to do it.

"Yeah, so he took his old job back then?" her tone full of hope and excitement. Sasha nodded, grinned softly. "He did – this morning. Didn't even tell me he was going to. So I owe you thanks because we really do need him." A heartfelt and honest confession. Ashely drew her arms around herself slightly and sat up. Crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap.

"Will he go on your mission with you now?" and Sasha was shocked because where she'd expected her tone to be glum, it was optimistic instead. As if she'd intended for that to be the case by talking with him. The way Sasha moved her head and worked her lips into a curious line expressed her confusion enough for Ashley to pick it up without words. "It's not that I don't want him here, but when we were in Greece, he checked the radio every day like Mom and Grandpa did at the Cabin, listening for the ship. I knew he didn't really want to leave it."

"So, you thought if he had his old job back, he'd get to go with me?" came her reticent reply.

Ashley frowned slightly, "He doesn't?".

Sasha licked her lips and shook her head slowly. "No, it doesn't quite work like that. I don't usually work on the ship like your Dad does. And the position he accepted doesn't usually work on the ship either. He's the CNO. When he went to China, that was different – and there was a lot of stuff that put us in situations that are not typical of the way things work." She explained. Feeling a little discouraged that Ashely's shoulders seemed to slump slightly.

"Oh," she replied simply. "I just want him to be happy, and it seems like he misses it a lot." She mumbled. Sasha softened and gave her a knowing look.

"He does miss it, and that's normal. But he also wants to be here for you and your brother," a gentle reminder. "You guys make him happy too. He might not be great at expressing himself all the time, but he really, really loves you. Be patient with him." Ashley picked at a frayed thread on her socks, pulling it slightly and watching as the hem unraveled. Sasha watched for a moment, sensing that her point hadn't really gotten through.

"Have you ever been on vacation or been to summer camp and had a really great time, and when you came back, you missed it? Wished you could go back and do it all again?" Sasha prompted pensively, a flicker of recognition sparking in Ashely's eyes, and she righted her head slightly, her body language saying yes. "It's like that. Not recently – but before. It's special, Ash. It's hard to explain. But I promise you, just because he misses the times it was good doesn't mean he loves you guys less. Or that he doesn't want to be here." She finished softly.

There was a comfortable silence as her words sank in before Ashley queried again, "Do you miss it too?" spoken with genuine interest. The corner of Sasha's lip pulled higher, making the dimple appear in her cheek, and she gave a gentle nod.

"I do. Sometimes." The confession hung in the air between them as Sasha's eyes cast off. "There was this one night in Asia, I couldn't sleep so I went up on deck. And it was late, I think around two, so there was no one up there... but the stars? They were so bright; wasn't a single cloud in the sky. No planes, no pollution, no light – and the ocean was like glass, and it just – reflected them all. Couldn't make out the horizon cause it was so still. I've never seen it like that before. It was beautiful." Her head moved with reminiscence and wonder; her lips unable to suppress the soft yearning smile that graced them.

"And then your Dad came and sat with me. And we did nothing." Her shoulders shrugged upwards as if it were the best thing in the world. "And it was perfect." The smile fading into nostalgia instead. One of those moments. "That's the kind of stuff we miss, Ash – not anything else." She finished softly, eyes shifting back to meet Ashley's, who was intently listening with reverence.

"My Grandpa used to take me to watch the stars." She whispered, eyes happy and comforted, and the relief that washed over Sasha was like a warm blanket. She'd done something right.

"He did?" a genuine question that encouraged her to share more.

"When my Grandma died of cancer, he told me that that's where we'd see her. That she'd always be the brightest one, and it meant she was okay and waiting for us until we were ready to join her." She said. "He'd let us watch them from the porch at the Cabin while we waited for Dad sometimes... My Mom's there too now." She whispered, her tone sentimental.

Sasha had to swallow the lump in her throat, struck by how poignant it was. "Sounds right to me. Your Grandpa was a very smart man. Much smarter than your Dad." She quipped at the end, earning the smile and small laugh she'd been looking for. Her eyes drifted to the stairs where she knew he was hovering – had been for the past minute or so, though Ashely hadn't heard it yet. Sasha's ever keen ears hadn't missed the soft click of their bedroom door and his almost silent footsteps.

"Alright, it's late – almost time for your Dad to go pee and come down here." She said, giving him the out. Heard as he quietly went back to their room so Ashely wouldn't find him lingering at the top of the stairs and freak out.

Ashely rolled her eyes, "Urgh, you're right. He's so weird. Does he do anything not on a schedule?"

Sasha let out a bark of laughter, "I don't think so. He has been in the Navy for nearly thirty years," which earned a look of bewilderment from her.

"Oh my god, he's so old!"

"Hey! Not old, experienced. He's not even fifty!" Sasha corrected the wry expression illustrating that she wasn't actually admonishing her. Ashely raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

"So old." She argued back.

"Goodnight," Sasha said, smirking at her, which Ashley returned.

"Goodnight Sasha,"

Not long after she heard her door click did Tom emerge from their room, appearing in the living room, not more than a minute later, hair sticking up slightly, wearing his low-slung sweatpants and a simple black shirt. She took a moment to appreciate his appearance, his long muscular arms, and the veins that silently begged her to touch them. She stood, moving the blanket away from her body with precision and grace. Approached him slowly while his eyes tracked her, stopped a fraction of an inch from touching distance, looking up while he looked down. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

"Hi," she breathed, the quiet lust in her eyes not particularly hidden as they met his.

"Hi," he repeated, and her heart fluttered at the warmth of his gaze, the affection he proclaimed within it. Fingertips tingling with how desperately she'd missed it. Missed him.

The corners of hers creased with fondness, "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," was his simple answer. He searched her expression as the piercing blue of her eyes drew him in like a vortex. All he could think – all he could feel, was her aura surrounding him, his focus narrowed down as he tried committing every detail to memory. He wanted to brand his brain with everything that she was, a deep and endless longing to try and hold her to him forever, mindful of the fact that she'd be gone in less than a week. Cut off from him for three months, and he'd wasted yet more time being cold as he'd tried desperately to stuff how much he loved her into a safer spot – if only his father could see him now. It was stupid. He'd been stupid.

Stubborn.

He palmed her jaw, and she inhaled, angling her head into his capable hands – eyes closed tight as she let the sensation wash over her. They'd barely touched for three weeks, this morning the first time they'd spared more than polite passing pleasantries for the sake of the kids. She ached for this. For him. His lips covered hers with fervent pressure and her hand came to his, clasping his wrist as the other grasped at the impossibly smooth skin of his freshly shaved cheek. Her tongue met his in earnest – ardent, demanding, consuming.

It wasn't enough.

His arms moved to encircle her, pulled her to him as flush as he possibly could, his broad hands bunching in the oversized fabric of his shirt on her frame, another tucking into the waistband of the pajama pants she wore, digging into the supple cool flesh of her backside. She moaned into his mouth and pushed herself up onto tiptoes, panted as his hardness pressed against her naval. His body was exploding wherever she made contact, blinding white-hot flashes at the back of his eyes; their mouths moving from passionate to desperate. Branding. He lifted her, and she gladly wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved them like she weighed nothing to the stairs. Her back hit the wall with a soft thud when he paused there, pinning her as his lips tore away to drag down her neck—sucking at her pulse point where it wildly fluttered, teeth nipping at her prominent collarbones. Her hands buried in his short hair. Her hips squirming as she ground her center against his hardness – desperately needing the contact, could tell by her movements that she was close and that knowledge alone made him almost come in his pants. That she wanted him badly enough to get this far, and he hadn't even touched her yet.

Every gasp from her lips was the soothing he needed to hear, the slight tremble of her body under his passion everything he needed to know. He tore himself away from her neck, used the last modicum of thought to judge the stairs quickly as she buried herself between his jaw and his chest, legs squeezing around him. He pulled her away from the wall easily and ascended the stairs.

This would be over fast.

He laid her on the sheets and tugged her pants down unceremoniously. Their lips were attacking again – open-mouthed, messy, breathy ones. She felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest, a wanton sob caught at the back of her throat, and he let out a frustrated moan in response. Clumsy fingers pulled at his sweatpants and boxers, getting caught before allowing him free, their breathing ragged because of the blinding need. Her hips lifted slightly, seeking him, friction, anything to ease the pain, and he took his opportunity – hand grabbing the round flesh of her rear easily, the perfect fit for his wide palms and long fingers, and he squeezed as he pulled her to him; filling her completely with one perfectly angled thrust.

It was the release she so desperately needed; she bit into his shoulder and cried out – the fabric and muscle appropriately muffling the delightful sound for his ears only. He grunted and buried his head deep into her neck, pumped into her with no restraint as she convulsed around him. Kept her safe and held her to him as her entire body locked up from the pleasure that was almost too much, a little too intense that she didn't know if she could take it. She couldn't breathe, could feel her heart hammering heavily as she clung on for dear life while he pounded into her orgasm. Not fifteen seconds later, he came with such blinding ferocity he wondered if she'd just taken something from him. Maybe a piece of his soul. Had to stifle the strangled cry with his pillow because he couldn't keep it in. He rarely lost it like this.

They stayed locked that way for several minutes while the rushing waters of need slowly calmed. Came back to their senses, only find they hadn't even managed to take off their clothes, both sets of pants tangled and stretched at their thighs, probably irreparably in her case – and it was beautiful. It was everything.

He kissed her again, lovingly. Bore his soul in it, apologized in only a way that his hands and his body could, and she could feel moisture in the corners of her eyes because she understood it for what it was. It was a promise. He was giving himself to her wholly. He was done trying to fight it, done trying to hold something back, trying to keep some part of him safe.

He was giving her everything that he had.