"I can still use my powers for good, you know."
"I never doubted that you would, Rachel. I want you to know that." His tone of voice – and the use of her first name for the first time since their shouting match – caught her attention. Once he had it, Tom glanced around, seeing who all was present before continuing quietly. "I can even see the good came that from his death…I just can't condone it. You have to know that."
She looked at him, surprised, before nodding acknowledgement of his situation.
"I know. I just – " She shrugged. What's done was done. "So you still have some shrapnel in you, you know." She said, changing the subject. "It needs to come out as soon as possible."
"Not until we deal with this sub."
"And how long will that take?"
"I don't know. Maybe a few days." She looked at him disapprovingly. "But probably sooner. Ramsey seems to be chomping at the bit. Honestly, so am I. The sooner we get this over with the sooner we can get back to spreading this cure of yours."
"And what precisely will you be doing during these 'few days'?"
"Rachel, we don't have time to get into it. There's literally a whole course on anti-sub warfare at Annapolis."
She rolled her eyes.
"I meant physically. Please tell me that this only involves you sitting on the bridge. You're not in a condition to perform your usual physical heroics, and I'm going to put that in writing."
"You do realize that I'm the captain, right? I can jump in a RHIB whenever I want to."
"And even captains are subject to doctor's orders. So if you're going to be a stubborn fool and delay necessary surgery, I'm going to put you on – what's the term? – oh, yes, limited duty."
"You can't do that."
"Watch me."
"You're a civilian."
"Milowski and Rios aren't."
He grunted, acknowledging a point in her favor.
"That's better." She said, reaching for the bandages. "Now hold still…"
. . . . .
Tom looked on as the landing party began to herd the kids out the door. God, he hoped this worked. He lingered in his thoughts as the rest of the landing party geared up until Rachel appeared.
"Hey," he said, getting her attention. "Be safe."
She turned to face him.
"You too. And be quick about it, I need to get that shrapnel out of you before it nicks your liver."
"You doctors and your scalpels. Bloodthirsty lot, you are." She gave him a look. "Alright, alright, I'll be quick about it!" he said. "Do try to follow Mike's …directions. They're for your own good."
"You know how I am about following …'directions'."
He laughed out loud.
"Do I ever. But you're telling me to follow doctor's orders, so I thought maybe we could make a deal."
She laughed, then gave him a crooked smile, like she was enjoying a private joke.
"What?" he asked.
"I missed this."
"Me too." He looked at her, suddenly serious. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. You didn't deserve it."
"Really? I don't regret Niels' death, but I understand why you were upset with me."
"I don't think you do." She looked at him, confused. "I nearly choked on my food when you said you'd injected yourself with an experimental strain of the virus. I was furious that you'd risked your life – again – and you hadn't even discussed it with me!" he paused to take a breath. "And the kicker was that I knew, even though you'd survived this insane risk, I was going to have to punish you." He glanced around and stepped closer before continuing quietly. "Between you, me, and the bulkhead, that bastard deserved everything you did to him and more. And after talking to Bertrise, I wanted to revive him so I could kill him myself."
Rachel stared at him, stunned at the implication.
"So…please be careful out there, okay?" She nodded, trying to find her voice, eventually replying.
"You too."
"See you soon. Now go. We'll come back for you as quickly as we can."