A/N: I've really enjoyed reading all of your comments and hopes for this story. I can see that everyone is anxiously waiting for our favorite two characters to get together and find happily ever after. We're heading in that direction, I promise! However, life's never simple, even in fairy tales. ;-) Happy Valentine's Day to everyone.

CHAPTER THREE: MEMORIES

Rumors could spread like wildfire in a small, closed environment like a Navy destroyer. When the crew didn't know what was going on, they started filling in answers for themselves. Usually the worst-case scenarios were the ones that persisted.

The biggest topic on the grapevine was Captain Chandler. Everyone was talking about him, from the mess hall to the crew lounge to even the wardroom - as long as Commander Slattery wasn't around. Where was he? How was he? Who had seen him, and when?

As Alicia Granderson sat down to her dinner a few nights later, she sighed as she realized what the other junior officers at the table were discussing. "Don't go stirring up trouble," she warned them.

The Ensign at the table had the sense to at least look a little bit sheepish. "It's just that nobody knows anything."

"It's none of our business," she replied.

"Really?" the other Lieutenant questioned. "It's none of our business what happens to our CO?"

"Right now, Commander Slattery is our CO and the ship is doing fine."

He fixed her with a Look. "You were there," he realized. "You saw him. Was it really this bad? I always figured it would take a herd of wild horses to drag him away from the bridge for a day, let alone a month. Or is there something going on that they're keeping from us?"

Alicia looked away; it seemed that her attempt to end the conversation had only made it worse. "I don't really remember that night."

He scoffed. "How could you forget that?"

Her cheeks reddened; Doc Rios thought it was a coping mechanism, that her mind was repressing the memories in an attempt to protect itself. The fact that she only recalled a few moments just made Alicia feel broken. There had been a ton of blood… raised voices… bodies. She could imagine her mother's corpse amid the chaos, dead eyes staring at nothing. That certainly wasn't anything she felt like sharing.

Her crewmates realized they weren't going to get anything more from her and therefore resumed their own speculations. "You think the Captain's ever going to command the ship again?" the younger of the two asked.

"I don't want to ever hear that question again," Slattery told them as he entered the room. The three officers snapped to attention. "Captain Chandler wouldn't tolerate gossiping like this, especially from the ship's officers, and I sure as hell won't either! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

Mike took a deep breath, softening slightly. He could remember how much trouble they got into the last time the crew started to think their leadership was keeping things from them. Morale had been shaky recently, especially whenever they were about to send teams ashore. Dealing with feelings of helplessness wasn't one of their strong suits.

"The Captain is recuperating. Doc Rios hasn't cleared him for duty yet because of difficulties getting around, due to his injuries. But that's a temporary condition. He is still kept aware of what's happening onboard the ship; he gets daily reports." He didn't mention that there hadn't been much in the way of a response to his status updates. During a few scattered visits with the Captain, Mike had done almost all of the talking.

"Thank you, sir," the Ensign meekly replied.

Mike nodded. "Just give it some time… and stop entertaining rumors. Set an example."

"Yes, sir."

When Sam woke up in the middle of the night with a horrible nightmare still fresh in his mind, he didn't feel brave enough to make the trek across the hall to his father's stateroom. Unlike at home, there was no point in crying out for his parents; his father wouldn't be able to hear him and even if he could, he would have a hard time limping over. So instead, Sam slipped down from his bunk and crawled into his sister's bed.

"Sam?" Ashley sleepily asked as she felt him curl up beside her. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want to be alone."

Ashley wrapped an arm around her little brother, holding him close. "What's wrong?'

Sam sniffled. "I had a bad dream. Everybody died and we were all by ourselves. Even Daddy and Grandpa."

"It was just a dream," Ashley tried to reassure him, but that didn't make Sam feel better.

"I want to go home," he whimpered. "When do we go home?"

Ashley thought long and hard about what to say. She was only a few years older than her brother; she'd been expected to look out for him, but never had to 'mother' him. But she could remember what Rachel had told her a few days earlier when she'd been upset. The scientist had comforted her, and hopefully would help Sam, too.

"It's weird here," she told her brother. "And scary sometimes. But Daddy and Grandpa and Dr. Scott and everybody are working to keep us all safe. So we'll be okay. It was just a dream."

Sam curled up a little closer. "Can I stay with you?" he asked in a tiny, pitiful voice.

Ashley nodded as she closed her eyes again. "Just don't kick me."

"Okay… Love you."

She smiled; through everything, the Chandler siblings had always had each other. Her little brother was now her best friend. "Love you, too."

The following day, Jed took Rachel's suggestion to bring Ashley, Sam, and Ava down to the lab so they could play on the flight deck again. Rachel scheduled her work for the day so she'd have a little time to be with the children. She wanted to see for herself that they were still doing okay, plus their smiles buoyed her spirits.

"Sunshine!" Sam bellowed with a huge grin as he ran out onto the deck, arms spread wide to the sides. He turned a couple circles, enjoying the feel of the fresh air and sun's warmth.

The girls laughed as they watched. "What a nutter," Ava teased.

"Where'd our games go?" Ashley wondered as she realized the hopscotch and snail games that they'd drawn before were no longer visible on the deck.

"Washed away in the rain," Rachel explained. "But you can make new ones. And Bertrise had a present for you." She stepped back inside for a moment and returned with a few pieces of chalk and a small bundle of rope. Duct tape had been wrapped around the ends to make crude handles.

"A jump rope!" Ashley realized.

Rachel smiled as she handed it to her. "Make sure you all share."

Ava reached for a piece of chalk. "You can go first," she told Ashley. "We'll draw new games."

So Ava and Sam set about recreating a snail game while Ashley played. The flight deck was starting to seem more like a real playground. "When do we get to port?" Sam wondered at one point. They could just barely see land off to the side of the ship.

"Tomorrow," Rachel replied. Hopefully, they could find food, medical supplies, and materials she needed for the lab. Getting things to keep the ship running had been more difficult recently.

"We learned a little about the geography of this area yesterday, didn't we?" Jed asked the children. They nodded.

"Lots of towns here have funny names," Ava spoke up. "Wilmington, Hampstead… Those are towns in England, too."

"There are many places in America named after places in England," Rachel replied. "States, too."

Ava nodded. "I know. Which is silly; they didn't like England."

"A lot of the places were named before American independence, luv. They were still British colonies at the time."

"Does that make England mad?" Sam wondered. "That we stole their names?"

Rachel laughed. "I don't believe most people in England think about it one way or another." She started to correct herself to use the past tense, but then just let it go. She didn't want to think about the tens of millions of dead in her home country; it would ruin the morning. "Actually… I remember when I was a little girl, my great-uncle went on and on at Christmas about some ancestor who sided with the Colonies. Though he was probably on his fourth or fifth scotch of the night by then… and he wasn't the most rational man, even when he was sober." She gave the children a mischievous grin, "My cousins and I played a trick on him once."

"You did?"

"Mmm-hmm. While he was asleep in a chair, we took his shoe off from one foot and hid it. He was so confused when he woke up! He couldn't walk straight, because one foot was higher than the other. He started stumbling all around the room and eventually ended up running into my aunt, who spilled her tea all over him." The kids giggled. "We thought it was quite amusing; she did not."

"Did you get in trouble?" Ashley wondered.

"A bit. My mother was mortified, but my father thought it was funny, too." She smiled at the memory, imagining the sound of her father's deep laugh as he called her his 'cheeky little monkey.'

"Dr. Scott?" Sam spoke up.

She pulled herself from her thoughts of the past, offering him a smile. "You know, it's alright if you just call me Rachel, luv."

"We're not supposed to," Ashley informed her. "It's not polite."

Rachel was certain their father was behind that rule. "I see."

"Is 'Dr. Rachel' still being polite?" Sam innocently wondered.

She chuckled. "Yes, that's a good compromise. What were you asking?"

Sam smiled bashfully. "Will you come tell us a story at bedtime tonight?"

Rachel was stunned. "What?"

"I like your stories," he continued. "I want to hear more."

Rachel looked to Jed, who just shrugged. It wasn't exactly the guidance she was looking for. "I… If that's what you want, I'd be happy to," she finally answered.

The more she thought about it, though, Rachel realized that she needed to talk to their father first. She didn't want Tom to be surprised by her arrival - especially if it wasn't welcome. So once the children left to go do their schoolwork, she headed for the Captain's stateroom.

Upon knocking on the hatch, she heard Tom gruffly call, "Yeah, come in." When she opened the door, he was sitting on the bed, a few papers in his hands. He seemed surprised to see her and moved to sit a little straighter. "Something wrong?"

"No, no, I just… Sam asked me something this morning, and I wanted to make sure that you were alright with it."

"Okay…"

"He wanted me to tell him and Ashley a story before bed tonight. I said I would, but I understand that that's your family time, and I don't want to intrude."

Tom just blinked. "Uh, no, that-that's fine." It wasn't what he was expecting to hear, but he knew that his children had formed a bond with her.

"You're certain?" Rachel asked, just to be sure.

"Yeah. Whatever makes the kids happy."

She smiled. "They're wonderful children; I've enjoyed spending time with them."

"They've always been amazing," Tom softly replied. "Ever since they were born, I've been in awe of them… Ashley had these huge eyes that were always watching everything…"

He almost unconsciously raised his hands to mimic holding his infant daughter. Rachel was suddenly struck by the beauty of that scene. She could imagine a tiny baby with brown peach fuzz hair being securely cradled in her father's embrace. It wasn't hard to picture the look of sheer awe and devotion that must have been on Tom's face as he watched his firstborn.

"I would wonder what she was thinking," he continued. "What she would say to me if she knew the words. What the world looked like to her eyes. Even after she got bigger and started talking, sometimes she would get this look on her face and I'd be left wondering how she was silently puzzling things out in her head."

"I'd imagine you never had to wonder that with Sam?" Rachel spoke up.

Tom actually chuckled, and she realized that she couldn't remember the last time she'd heard him laugh. "No. He's always said or done exactly what he was thinking. My little ball of energy."

It had always been clear how much Tom loved his family, but she enjoyed hearing him talk about his children. His walls came down. "It must have been difficult to be away from them so much," she softly commented.

"Yeah. Only part of my job I didn't like." He hadn't even met his daughter until she was almost three months old, and he'd missed most of the first year of Sam's life. Saying goodbye had always been hard; he'd probably been gone for just as much of their lives as he'd been around for. And now he continued to let them down. He obviously wasn't capable of taking care of them. They were looking to someone else to help them, to fill the role he couldn't perform. He didn't resent Rachel for it, though, just himself.

"The kids normally go to bed around nine," Tom quietly said, his eyes focused back on his paperwork.

Rachel studied him for a few seconds. Whatever little moment they'd been sharing was clearly now over. She didn't know why, but knew that had been her cue to leave. "Alright. I'll see you tonight," she said as she turned to the hatch.

TBC...