"Vulture team to mother, come in."

"Mother to vulture team, over."

"Request permission to return to base."

There was a long moment before the radio squawked again, but it was a different voice.

"Granted. I'm guessing you had something to do with that?"

The group grinned at the voice of their captain.

"We may have commandeered some of the enemy's equipment."

"Thanks, Mike. Come on home."

"Will do. Gonna pick up the others and come in. I suspect at least two of them will want to talk to you right away."

"I'll do a quick debrief, and you can tell her I'll meet her in sickbay."

"That ought to make her happy. See you in 30."

They walked back into the camp where they'd left the civilians with a sense of intense satisfaction. Mike took the lead, greeting Burke with a smile on his face.

"What happened? You take care of the battery?"

"Better. Took care of the sub."

"What!?"

Tex chimed in.

"Took out their guys, stole their ammo. Sub made the mistake of surfacing within range."

"Nice!"

"So we can go back aboard now?" Dr. Scott asked anxiously.

Mike chuckled at her query.

"Yes, Doc." He watched her face as she tried to keep her composure. "And he's promised to meet you in sickbay after he briefs the president."

"Good." She said, allowing herself a smile. "Let's go."

. . . . . . . . . .

Tom peered through the hatch to sickbay. He saw her gathering things and waited until she stepped into the supply closet, then snuck into an empty compartment and sat on the lower bunk. He watched her come back out, reading the labels on the IV bag, still unaware of his presence.

"Hey Doc, I've got this really annoying shrapnel I need looked at."

"Tom!" she said, rushing to him, dropping the bag she was holding in the process. He reached out and took her in his arms, pulling her onto his lap.

"Rachel." He said simply, breathing her in, sharing the relief of simply seeing each other again. Eventually he drew back, looking her in the eyes. Another long moment, and his right hand found its way up her back, tangling in the hair at the back of her head and guiding her face to his. Their lips met, and he kissed her slowly, gently, but quite thoroughly. But the need for air eventually overcame them, and he grinned at her as they parted. "Welcome back."

"'Welcome back' indeed." She said, giggling. He marveled at the woman still wrapped in his arms, making noises he never thought he'd hear from her. "What?" she asked.

"Just enjoying the way you giggle." He watched her blush before continuing. "It's adorable."

"I am not adorable." She replied as stiffly as she could manage.

"Right. You are the stoic British doctor with a stiff upper lip and enough nerve to tell off a captain aboard his own damn ship." She sniffed, seemingly mollified, and moved to pick up the dropped IV bag. "And you're adorable." He added quietly, smirking.

"You're an ass, you know that, Tom?"

"Perhaps. Speaking of …" he said, his eyes lingering on her backside as she bent to pick up the IV bag.

"Are you always this lecherous?" she demanded once she realized where he was looking.

"Only in private. I have a reputation to maintain, you know. Captain, naval decorum, you know."

She raised an eyebrow at him. She could have a lot of fun playing this game.

"Alright, let's get to it then." She said, eyes twinkling. "Here, let me help you take off your shirt."

He grinned at her as she took off his shirt, letting her hand trail suggestively across his chest as she removed his bandages – then he winced audibly as she deliberately poked him in the most tender spot.

"Rios! Can you bring the ultrasound machine in here? I need to see if this shrapnel has moved."

"Hey!" he said, looking comically betrayed.

"What? The sooner we get this shrapnel out of you, the sooner you can heal."

"And exactly how long will that take?" he asked.

"You'll be sore for several days, and you should refrain from strenuous activities." She told him, giving him a warning glance.

"Several days, huh?" he sounded disappointed.

"Yes, Tom. You don't want to tear any stitches. Then we'll be right back where we started." She stepped back as Rios walked in with the equipment. "So, captain, you need to refrain from your usual away-party adventures. That's what junior officers are for." The two men couldn't see each other, as Rios was setting up the machine, which meant she got to see Rios smirk and Tom look offended – followed by a warning look and a glance in the medic's direction.

"All hooked up, Ma'am."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He said, leaving the compartment. Tom waited until the man was gone before reaching out for her hand and pulling her closer, addressing Rachel in low, serious tones.

"Rachel – I'm not saying you can't tease me. Just try to remember your audience."

"I'm not allowed to tease you in front of the crew?"

"Well, a little bit is probably okay. The crew already knows you've never been afraid of me in the slightest, but they still need to fear me a little bit. Just…try to keep it reasonable." He paused, realizing he should go ahead and explain something else naval decorum would require. "And there will be situations where I want to say certain things to you, or hold your hand, but I can't. So let me go ahead and apologize in advance."

"You can't even hold my hand?"

"Public displays of affection in uniform, with few exceptions, are frowned upon. It can erode naval discipline, and it's more important than ever now. The no fraternization rule doesn't technically apply to you, but - "

"We should be discreet."

"Exactly. It doesn't have to be a secret, but it should probably stay behind closed doors."

"No movie nights with the crew, then?" her tone was light, but he could tell she was disappointed.

"We could watch movies in my cabin. Smaller screen, better seating. You like screwball comedies?"

"I'll hold you to that. Now let's get this out of you. Hold still while I find it…"