Rachel woke to the sound of drawers being pulled open. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to go back to sleep, but it was useless. She surrendered and looked at the source of the noise, namely, Tom in his boxers, rooting around in the closet.
"Well hello." She heard herself say.
"And good morning to you too, sleeping beauty. Was just about to wake you." He replied, pulling on a shirt. "We're due in Michener's office in forty-five minutes. Kara brought your bag over."
Rachel squinted at the clock and groaned, loathe to leave the cocoon of blankets she was in.
"I can get ready in only fifteen minutes, you know."
"Good, because we need to leave in twenty-five." He finished with his shirt and moved onto the pants. She decided that watching him dress was a perfectly acceptable use of time; he chose to be amused by this. Once he reached for his shoes and sat on the bed, he teased her. "You know, I'm not sure how much hot water this hotel really has. You might want to get in there."
"You used it all?" She fake-pouted.
"Me? No. Us sailors are used to tepid showers. But there are a bunch of civilians here." He stood to offer her a hand. "C'mon. I'll be here when you get back."
"Promise?" she asked, sitting up.
"Promise." He pulled her to her feet and smiled at her. They stood like that for a moment, then he nudged her towards the bathroom. "Go on." He said gently. "Your bag's in there."
. . . . . .
True to his word, he was waiting for her on the couch. In front of the couch, there was a cup of tea and a mostly-full mug of coffee. She immediately stole his coffee. He looked on in disbelief as she dared him to say anything with her eyes; he held up his hands in surrender and went to make more.
"Feel awake yet?" he asked, standing next to her after she'd finished her purloined coffee.
"Getting there." She replied. "Tom…thank you. For everything."
"You did the hard part." He said, reaching over to squeeze her free hand. "And I wish you hadn't had to do it at all."
She put down her mug and turned to face him, trying to find the right words. The image of Rachel actually having trouble speaking made Tom smile. It happened so rarely, and it made her look adorable.
"I – " she finally began.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Lt. Burk's voice came through.
"Sir, it's time to go."
"Coming, Lieutenant." He briefly put his hand on her cheek. "Later."
. . . . .
Tom smiled as they left Michener's office, replaying the fireworks in his head.
"You do remember I'm a civilian, right, Jeff? You can't just order me around. If you want to order around a doctor, that's what Milowski is for."
Tom bit back a laugh at the look on the president's face. He wasn't sure if it was the use of his first name with no title, or the sheer shock that Rachel wasn't just following along like everyone else.
"I'm glad you find this amusing, Captain." Michener said, decidedly peeved.
"Sorry, sir. Just remembering all the many times she's disobeyed my…instructions…in the past year. My favorite was probably when she teamed up with the entire crew to disobey direct orders."
"And what are you smiling at?" Rachel asked, interrupting his reverie. He looked at her briefly before replying.
"You're hell on military decorum, you know that?"
"The hell with decorum. If he's going to pretend we're on a first-name basis, he can at least make it a request." In the end, she'd agreed to go to Nebraska as planned, because it was the right thing to do. But only just; she was still displeased at being sent away so quickly. She thought she'd have at least a few days to rest for the first time in…she couldn't remember how long.
"He's a politician. They like to use your name; it's about getting youto think he's your friend." She snorted. "You want to grab lunch at the hotel bar?"
"At the hotel bar, at a restaurant, anywhere but his office." She said, referencing Michener's offer to bring in food so that they (or at least him and Tom) could have a working lunch.
"For once, I'm in complete agreement with you."
. . . . .
They'd actually found a private booth at a bar on the way back to the hotel. Tom glanced over at Lieutenants Green and Burk, sitting at the bar, who had been quietly following them. He knew this conversation would require his full attention, and he was glad they were there.
"You were hungry." He told Rachel, who was finishing up her lunch.
"I thought you were too." She replied, looking at his plate, barely touched.
"I was. But I tend to lose my appetite when I get nervous."
"Nervous? The captain of the Nathan James, nervous about – what, exactly?"
"Rachel…" he said in a quelling tone, which caused her teasing look to drop from her expression.
"What is it, Tom?" she asked, reaching over to put her hand on his. He responded by taking it and wrapping it in both of his.
"I love you, Rachel." He looked up from their linked hands. "I haven't said anything because, well, I still love Darien. And I know I haven't come to terms with her death yet. I've been doing my best to ignore how much it hurts, to focus on the mission. But now – the mission's over, and the kids are coming – it's going to rip what little scar tissue I have right off, and that's not fair to you."
"But after last night, I realized, the only thing worse than losing Darien would be losing you too. So I'm going to be a selfish jerk and ask if you're willing to be patient with me while I – while all of us – work through this. I know that there will be times I look at Ashley and see Darien's eyes, and I honestly don't know what I'll do when Sam wakes up from a nightmare and asks for his mother. And they'll probably resent you for being there when their mother isn't."
"Tom, I can handle that." He looked at her in disbelief. "Really. I'd be surprised if you didn't feel that way. And honestly, if you didn't, you wouldn't be the man I fell for. As for the kids, I'd prefer it if they didn't resent me, obviously. But I understand it. You read my file, right?"
"Yes…?"
"You saw that my mother died too, right? I was about their age."
"I didn't catch the date, no."
"And they still have you. Which, honestly, is more than I had." He looked askance at her; that same file had said her father was still alive, at least before the pandemic, anyway. "I never forgave my father for letting her die. I moved away as soon as possible, going off to college a year early."
"He…let her die?"
"We were missionaries in Africa – she contracted malaria, and the doctor begged him to let her treat my mother, but he refused. Said it was up to god, not man." She watched the horror on his face and felt a surge of affection. "That's another thing I love about you, you know. You'll do whatever it takes for the ones you care about. I saw it in Baltimore over and over again; the look in your eyes when you asked me for the vaccine for your family, the way you dragged Alicia back to the ship even though she didn't want to go. The relief in your eyes when you saw me and Kara and Tex."
"I felt so guilty for leaving you there. I should never have left you alone in a strange place, surrounded by people we'd only just met. Once I realized what was going on – thank god Tex found you."
They sat there quietly for a long moment, letting their words settle. Eventually, Rachel spoke quietly and reluctantly.
"I need to go pack."
"I know." He said, squeezing her hand while giving her a tight smile.
"It's only a couple of weeks."
"I know." He repeated. "I'll still miss you."
"Cheer up, Tom. I'll call every day."
"You'd better." He groused playfully.
"That's better." She said. "Shall we?"
. . . . . .
Tom held her hand in the back of the humvee. He still wasn't happy about this trip taking place, but he'd at least gotten Rachel a three-man team of professional operators as personal bodyguards. She'd never be unprotected. Of the three, he only knew Wolf, but the Australian had vouched for the others, who had been brought in from Norfolk. Wolf was on the other side of the back seat, looking out the window, keeping an eye out for trouble. The other two were up front with Lt. Green, who had offered to drive them all to the flight line.
He felt her hand squeeze his as the plane came into view. He squeezed back. As they came to a stop, Wolf took the lead.
"Why don't you two check out the plane? Green and I can watch the vehicle."
Tom spared Wolf a grateful glance as he and Green exited the vehicle, giving him and Rachel a measure of privacy.
"Rachel…" he said, pulling her tightly to him. "…stay safe. You have to. I need you back."
"I will. Promise." She told him, eyes prickling as she clung to him in return. "I'll be counting the days."
"Well, until then…" He leaned down, intending to give her a gentle goodbye kiss – a non-verbal promise to wait for her return. However, that intention went out the window almost immediately. By the time they came up for air, they looked down to realize that she was sitting in his lap with her shirt all askew. She giggled, and Tom etched that wonderful sound into his memory. He also wondered what other noises he could get out of her.
"Sorry." He said, tugging her shirt back down.
"No you're not."
"Oh, but I am." He replied, voice low, with a look that made it clear he was sorry he had to pull the shirt back down. And damn if she didn't agree with him.
"Oh, bloody hell, Tom. Are you always this evil?"
"Come back and find out." He told her, a gleam in his eye.
"I will, you jerk."
Tom glanced outside and saw Wolf half-looking his way, not wanting to interrupt but needing to get going.
"You better." He said, reaching for the door handle. She sighed and let him guide her feet to the ground. He turned in his seat to face her, touching his forehead to hers. "Don't you leave their sides for a minute, Rachel. You hear me?"
"I hear you."
"Good. Now go on. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can come back."
"Not going to walk me to the plane?" she teased. Tom raised an eyebrow at her. She knew damn well why he wasn't standing up right now; his current state was entirely her fault.
"You're a strong, independent woman, with three armed bodyguards. You'll make it."
"Cad." She groused playfully, before kissing his cheek. "See you soon."
"I'll be counting the days too. Be careful."