"So, Sasha's the girl, huh?" Mike asked, re-organizing his effects within his Cabin.
Tom was sat on the sofa, glad to have him back and enjoying the temporary victory. The calm before the next storm they'd have to weather together. Tom's lips pursed. Mike had seen it then. Didn't know why he thought otherwise. No matter—he was done pretending. Had been the moment he'd consciously chosen to approach her in the Helo bay in front of his crew. The need to touch her, to reassure himself that she was ok winning out.
Mike had noticed—he wasn't blind. It had been plastered across Tom's face when looked at her, hand resting upon her shoulder. Something he'd seen him do before with Darien.
Tom had wanted to do more, to take her in his arms and hold her. He couldn't cross that line but he did want her to know. To see that he cared for her still. A response to her vulnerability after the minefield and the conflict he'd seen mar her features when he'd ordered them to split up. How she'd turned and silently implored him to come back in one piece. Watched her leave the jungle with most of the rescued crew until he couldn't make her out any more through the trees.
"Which one?" Tom questioned, playing coy.
The tone of Mike's voice let him know dishonestly wouldn't fly. "The one you almost left the Navy for."
Sunday, July 3rd, 2011—Hawksbill Retreat, Shenandoah Valley, Virginia
They were sitting on the porch of their Cabin Rental enjoying Cuban Cigars and Mexican Beer while their wives put the kids to bed. The perfect, normal, quintessential American weekend.
"Have you ever considered leaving?" Mike asked, puffing on the cigar, blowing the smoke into the air.
Tom took a swig of beer and leaned back, response coming in a nostalgic sigh. "Yeah I did, a long time ago." Pictured coffee-colored hair, how it shimmered and reflected different colors in the light. Striking blue, eyes he'd never been able to forget. The thick black eyelashes that framed their perfect almond shape... the pretty freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose. Could still see the way her cheeks dimpled and the beautiful radiant smile. Still hear her voice and the melody of her laugh.
The silence stretched and Mike looked over at his friend. Clearly lost in deep thought with an almost sad little smile on his face. Huh. He bit and used the opportunity to rib him. Teased incredulously. "For a girl!?"
It snapped Tom back to present, answering with a soft chuckle. "Isn't it always about a girl?"
"Ok Fabio," Mike drawled.
Tom let out a sharp laugh before taking another swig of beer. Deciding it best not to elaborate more on the subject of past. A past that still to this day could sneak up on him and tug at his heart. Weakness that he hated himself for. "What about you?"
Mike sighed heavily, dragging one last puff from his Cigar before snugging it out in his ashtray. "Christine wants me to leave."
Tom almost thought to ask how Mike knew they hadn't been talking about Darien that night. Forgot most of the time how deeply observant and perceptive Mike could be. "She's the girl."
My girl. That voice told him.
Mike's eyebrows lifted as it dawned. Implication not lost when he probed, "And she's Navy?"
"Naval Intelligence… but yes, she's Navy."
Mike nodded in understanding. Mulling that little detail over for a few moments. "Never took you for much of a rule-breaker." There was humor in his tone, a half joke but the underlying conversation was there. There's no way they'd simply attended Academy together. Tom had to be ten years older than her, didn't take a genius to figure out the timeline didn't work.
Tom nodded and glanced down, interlacing his fingers while his elbows rested upon knees. "She was a valuable lesson. That I learned."
Mike considered the response, as much of an admission as he'd get. "Well, that was a different time." Tom snapped his head up, confusion at his brow. Mike bobbed his for a moment before clarifying. "As Captain of this ship, I'd tell you we have frat rules for a very good reason… but as your friend? You deserve to be happy, Tom and if I could have a second chance with Christine—I'd do it in a heartbeat. What are the odds—your girl winds up on Nathan James in the middle of Asia after the end of the world?"
Tom listened intently, hearing what sounded distinctly like a blessing to pursue a relationship with her again—in the middle of an all-out war with Peng. On a naval destroyer. While he was CNO. A recipe for disaster.
"Don't get me wrong, I don't wanna see anyone's bare ass on my ship… that's not what I'm saying." He seemed to struggle for a moment to find the right words. Finally finding them and looking at Tom sincerely. "You've been given a gift. Don't waste it."
Tom swallowed. Seemingly stuck, humbled, and reminded all at once. Not one for sharing his emotions, he simply stood and clapped his hand on Mike's shoulder. Conveying how glad he was that they'd recovered him safely. Banged up and mentally worse for wear, but alive, nonetheless. Tom nodded almost imperceptibly at him, lips in a firm line. Eyes conveying the deep respect and gratitude he held towards Mike who returned the gesture for just a few moments before they both let go and straightened.
He placed both hands behind his back and moved to the door. "Get some rest, the crew will be glad to see you when you're ready."