Rachel hummed quietly on the way back to her room, smile on her face, the words Find me repeating in her head. Of course, she knew where to find him right now, room 33. But she sensed he wasn't quite ready yet – since they had been so busy saving the world, he had not had a chance to properly mourn Darien. Hadn't even had a proper memorial service with his family. But she knew, now, how he felt about her; for now, that was enough. Between that and her official pardon, she practically floated down the hallway.
"…The cure?" a voice intruded upon her reverie. She looked at the speaker and a chill ran down her spine as she was instantly transported back to that night she'd taken a shortcut back to her college dorm. This guy was shorter, and more squirrelly, but somehow she knew he was more dangerous than the creep she'd met that night. Her euphoria evaporated; she was suddenly very sober.
"Sorry, I missed that."
"Are you the doc that created the cure? I missed the docking of the ship. Could I get it from you?"
Hands are dangerous. The words from the self-defense class she'd taken after that night filtered through her, and she had an idea.
"Well, you probably got it just walking into the hotel. But if you want to be sure, we can do that." She walked towards him as casually as she could. "Hold out your hands." she said, raising her own out in front of her, fingers spread, in demonstration. He held his hands up to meet hers, and she interlaced her fingers with his, gripping his hands firmly.
His eyes went wide as he realized what she had done, but it was too late. She clung tightly to his hands; Because she had interlaced their fingers, he couldn't break her grip. He tried twisting her arms, but she was more flexible than he was. He shoved her towards the wall, and they tripped over a chair; he landed on top of her. She screamed as she fell, but she never let go.
"TOM! TOM I NEED YOU!" She yelled, knowing his room was just around the corner, continuing to wrestle with the stranger, rolling them onto their sides. She kneed him in the groin as hard as she could, hearing her dress rip as she did so. Within ten seconds, the captain was barreling down the hall, jacket half unbuttoned, and she heard the impact as Tom tackled him. There was a sickening crunch of at least one bone, causing her to close her eyes as she flinched. Then she heard a click, and Tom's voice.
"Stop." Her eyes popped open and she saw Tom holding a gun to the man's head. She felt her heart stop when she realized that the gun in question was not navy issue. The man stopped struggling, and Tom addressed her.
"Rachel, you can let go now. It's over." She nodded, but she still had to force herself to relax her grip. She heard footsteps running down the hall and found Burke, Green, and Tex standing there, with more sailors coming in behind them.
"You okay?" Tex asked as Rachel sat up.
"I'm fine." Tex looked like he wasn't convinced; he had opened his mouth to press her on it when he recognized the man the captain had knocked to the floor.
"Son of a bitch. It's you." He said, pulling up the immune by the collar as he turned to Lt. Green. "Hey Danny, look, it's this asshole."
"So it is. Long way from Florida." He turned to the captain, who was now helping Dr. Scott off the floor. "What do you want to do with him?"
"For now, find the nearest cell and lock him up. Lt. Green - take a team and sweep the building. Start with her room, just in case there's any surprises in there. I'll call the president and let him know that Rachel's not going anywhere without a protective detail." He began to steer her towards his room. "Let's get you out of this hallway. Hopefully he was alone, but I'd rather you were behind a locked door right now." Rachel nodded, moving with him a few steps before stopping suddenly, aware of a new sensation.
"Uh, Tom?"
"Yes?"
"Can you walk behind me? Like, right behind me? I heard my dress tear, and it feels… drafty… back there."
"I'll do you one better." He said, unbuttoning the last buttons on his jacket and then wrapping it around her. Its warmth was welcome, and she could tell that it was long enough to cover anything that should remain hidden.
"Thank you."
Once inside the room, she moved to the couch as he double checked the lock. Miller's shadow was visible under the door, posted there by Lt. Green.
"Want some tea? I'm sure it's terrible American tea, but I did see some on top of the minifridge."
"It will have to do. Thank you." She listened as he began to gather the tea, letting herself – forcing herself – to relax. She felt the letdown as the adrenaline left her system, and saw her hands begin to shake. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, curling into a ball. Suddenly, he was next to her on the couch, tea forgotten, putting an arm around her.
"Rachel, you okay?"
"I'm just processing, now that the adrenaline's gone. I could have - " She felt his arm tighten around her as she spoke, and chose not to finish that sentence, instead leaning into his embrace.
"But you didn't. Thank god you didn't."
They stayed that way for a time, not wanting to move and not needing to speak. Eventually, though, Tom remembered he needed to make a phone call. Mercifully, the phone was right at the end of the couch. When he moved to reach for the receiver, she shifted along with him, causing him to blink at what he saw.
"Rachel… did you really attend the President's Inaugural ball barefoot?" he asked, amusement creeping into his expression.
"Perhaps…"
"Couldn't find shoes to go with the dress?"
"Well, the only ones the judge's daughter had that sort of fit me and matched the dress were these strappy stilettos…I've never learned how to walk in stilettos, and I value my dignity too much to wobble around in front of the cameras."
"I'm so glad you're a practical woman." He told her, pulling her close and kissing the crown of her head. The thought of her attempting the fight in the hallway on unsteady feet sent a chill down his spine. "Don't ever change."
Then the phone rang; Tom picked it up.
"Yes sir, I was just about to call you"
"Rachel's fine, sir. She fought him off. But she can't leave tomorrow. Not without a full protection detail. There's still a few immune cultists out there."
"She's secure now, sir, my crew is sweeping the building, and we've got a sentry on the door." His arm tightened around her as he smiled at her. "We've got her surrounded." She returned the smile and burrowed into his warmth.
"He wants to talk to you."
She sighed, taking the phone.
"Yes?"
"Really, I'm fine. Exhausted, but fine. The dress I borrowed is ruined though – tell Lisa I'm sorry."
"No, I don't think I'd be able to make the flight tomorrow. I'm too tired to pack."
"Can we discuss rescheduling tomorrow? My capacity to think right now is somewhat less than stellar." She handed the phone back to Tom and curled back into him, closing her eyes.
"Sir, she really is about to pass out. How about we come to your office tomorrow morning at 0900?"
"Good night, sir." After he hung up the phone, he turned his eyes back to the woman in his arms.
"Rachel, you can't sleep like this." Her only response was to hold him tighter. "Okay, allow me to rephrase. If I sleep like this, my back will hurt all day tomorrow." She groaned, but she relaxed her grip. He rose and guided her to the bed, pulling back the comforter. Then he went to a drawer and pulled out some sweats, leaving them next to her on the bed before moving towards the bathroom to give her privacy.
"Tom."
"Yes?"
"Can you - ?" she asked turning to put her back to him; she'd let his jacket fall off her shoulders and pulled it snugly around her waist.
"Of course." He said, chastely unzipping the back of her dress before stepping away. "I'll be back in a minute. Call if you need anything." He stopped at the dresser again, grabbing some sleepwear for himself.
When he came out, Rachel was sitting up, knees at her chest once more, drowning in his oversized sweats and a blanket wrapped tightly around her.
"You okay?"
"I don't want to go to sleep."
"You're exhausted." She just nodded. "Nightmares?" he guessed.
"Yes." He sat next to her and felt her head come to rest on his shoulder. "The reason… the reason I was able to fight off this guy is …he wasn't the first one. There was this guy in college – it was late, I was tired from running a 20-hour test in the lab, I took the shortcut back to my dorm…this guy tonight instantly reminded me of him."
Tom put both arms around her and pulled her close. His heart broke at the knowledge that Rachel had endured so much before he'd even met her. Her first assailant had probably had other motives than killing her, but that didn't make it any better.
"I'm sorry"
"Not your fault."
"I'm still sorry you had to deal with it."
They sat there for a while, until he felt her muscles relax and her breathing slow. Very, very gently, he laid her back down and tried to tuck her in. Her hand popped out, however, and grabbed his firmly. He'd intended to sleep on the pullout couch, but he obeyed the unspoken request and lay on top of the comforter next to her, leaving his hand in hers. When she rolled towards him and pulled his arm close, using it as a pillow, he smiled gently and drifted off to sleep.