*Based on the series, "We'll Sweep Out the Ashes In the Morning" by Noxnoctisanima. I highly recommend reading "Let This Fire Burn," "Caught Up in a Flame," "Start This Fire," and "Until the Dawning" for some excellent Kate/Swain romance. (Part 1 of this series, "Ashes Out in the Morning" is rated E and only posted on AO3. It is also highly recommended.)

**This is outsider pov of Kate and Swain's romance. It's Sally, and Charge, and Dutchy coming to terms with what Kate and Swain together mean to them. It might not make a whole lot of sense if you haven't read the fic that it's based on. TW: there is a brief scene where one of the characters smokes a cigarette.

***There is no character tag for Sally Blake :(

Sally opened the fridge and leaned into the blast of cold air

"What do you say, captain? Yogurt for breakfast?" She turned and looked at her daughter, smiling at their little joke.

Chloe sat in her high chair and waved her sippy cup around, babbling softly to herself and watching her mum.

"Sure thing, mate," Sally pitched her voice higher and was rewarded with a giggle from Chloe. "Are we being silly this morning?" Sally turned from the fridge and gave Chloe a light tickle. "Are we playing captain and mate? Yes, we are," She realized she was going overboard with the baby talk and sighed as she straightened up and turned back to the fridge.

"Yogurt it is." She placed the yogurt on the bench and took down two bowls from the cupboard. "I need to get out more," Sally sighed to herself. It was usually fun to do silly voices for Chloe–to pretend that her home was its own ship with Chloe as the captain and Sally as the first mate–but today it only made her sad.

Chris was meant to be the captain of their little ship but he was gone so often…Sally sighed and spooned yogurt into their bowls. She knew Chris would be gone a lot when she married him. She was alright with it, then. Even when they'd had Chloe, Sally was still confident in her ability to stick it out alone for long stretches of time. It was no longer the physical absences that weighed on her. There was a lack of closeness between them that physical proximity could no longer make up for.

She brushed Chloe's hair off her forehead and coaxed her into giving up the sippy cup in favor of a toddler sized spoon when she placed her bowl in front of her. Sally ate her own breakfast while she kept an eye on Chloe, keeping her on task and trying to keep most of her breakfast out of her hair.

"Oh, Chris," she muttered his name out loud. She didn't know how to find her way back to him or how to make their marriage the solid and joyful union it had once been. Even sadder was the fact that she wasn't sure she wanted to.

She had also known that she would be sharing her husband with the Navy. What she hadn't realized was that it wasn't an equal share. The Navy always won. The Navy had first dibs and Sally got him for whatever time was left. He had missed the birth of their child. He had missed Sally's complete mental breakdown under the pressure of postpartum depression.

It felt inevitable, now, that they were heading for a separation. There was a silence that hung between them even when they were talking. The silence had slipped between them when they watched television late at night, Sally curled into his side on the sofa. The silence lay between them in bed, even when he reached for her with the desperation of a man who'd been at sea for a fortnight.

Neither of them mentioned it and yet she knew he had noticed it as much as she had. Sally knew Chris better than he knew himself and she knew that he was terrified of disappointing her, and that he was disappointed in himself that their marriage hadn't worked out. But she also knew that whatever happened between them, he would always be there for Chloe.

Sally sat with her breakfast untouched and stared into space, letting herself think the word divorce for the first time.

She shoveled the rest of her yogurt into her mouth when she realized Chloe had eaten all she wanted and was now working on squishing the rest of her breakfast between her fingers.

"Yeah, nah, let's not get messy first thing in the morning!" Sally chided her cheerfully and then hefted Chloe onto her hip, moving for the bathroom to wash her sticky hands.

Somewhere between breakfast and naptime, Sally realized that she was ready to tell him it was over.

Charge had his elbows planted on the table and his coffee mug clutched in his hands and pressed against his chin. The steam from the hot coffee wafted across his face and crossed his fingers that it would help him wake up. It didn't seem that long ago he could drink all night, pass out for an hour, and be fit as a fiddle by the time his first watch was piped.

"You're a goddamn moron," he muttered to himself.

His stomach churned and his mouth tasted like bilge. He'd drank way too much last night and hadn't had nearly enough sleep before having to be awake and alert.

He was groaning loudly and dramatically to himself when Swain ducked into the officer's mess. He paused in the doorway, his own coffee mug in hand, and regarded Charge, sitting alone and obviously grumpy.

"Breakfast with all your friends?" Swain smirked.

"Fuck off," Charge grumbled. "I was having drinks with my friends but my best mate buggered off and left me to uphold the honor of those of us on the wrong side of 30."

"Oh?" Swain leaned in the doorway and raised an eyebrow.

"Without you, I had to prove to 2 Dads and Dutchy that old guys can still drink them under the table," Charge explained.

"Sorry to have abandoned you in your time of need," Swain grinned.

"Yeah, well. Turns out Dutchy is 31 so the whole contest was a crock of shit, anyway." Charge took a slow sip of his coffee and closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the taste of the strong brew.

He opened his eyes to find Swain frowning down into his own drink.

"Where'd you wander off to last night? Had to get back on board early to impress the top brass?" Charge chuckled.

"Something like that," Swain mumbled. His cheeks flushed pink and he brought his coffee to his lips, drawing out the process of taking a sip.

Charge narrowed his eyes. Something was up.

As Charge opened his mouth to ask what the big secret was, Swain placed his mug on the table and headed for the door. "Take care of that for me, yeah? Thanks," he called over his shoulder.

"When I can make sudden moves without vomiting, I'm coming after you!" Charge threatened.

Something was definitely up with his mate and, as soon as his hangover was gone, he was going to find out what.

He poured the leftover coffee from Swain's mug into his own and leaned back against the bench, his head resting on the cool metal of the wall behind him.

"You're not 25 anymore," he muttered a reproach to himself and then heaved himself to his feet, collecting Swain's empty mug and heading for the galley.

Dutchy's eyebrows shot up his forehead and he snapped his jaw shut as his mouth dropped open in surprise.

Well, shit.

Swain and the X were close. Very close.

Dutchy watched the tears stream down Kate's face and noted the damp spot on the shoulder of Swain's uniform that lined up with the height of those tears.

He saw the tenderness on Swain's face morph into guilt when he spotted Dutchy in the hall but Swain didn't take his hands off the X. Dutchy knew, suddenly, where the X and Swain had gotten off to last night. She hadn't gone back to the ship early, like they'd all thought. And Swain hadn't done the same, as Charge had insisted while he complained about being abandoned.

Dutchy's heart dropped into his stomach as Swain's guilty eyes held his gaze. The X didn't see him watching, her face was turned away, her hands clutching at Swain for comfort in the face of the tragedy that they had uncovered.

It was over, then.

Kate had made her choice and it hadn't been Dutchy. He'd been a long shot anyway, given that the competition was the boss–a man she had history with, a man with rank and power and skyhigh ambition. Dutchy hadn't expected her to pick him–he had fantasized, but he had known she wouldn't.

Swain, though? A dark horse. Dutchy hadn't even realized Swain was in the running for her affection.

He pulled his eyes away from Swain's stare when a loud banging nearby drew his attention. He held his Browning in front of him and kicked in the door, doing a quick sweep of the room before it registered what he was looking at.

Dutch let out a strangled shout, half way between yelling for joy and yelling for a medic. He holstered his weapon and pulled the gag from Mike's mouth.

"The boss is alive!" He finally found the words he needed and hollered, "X! Swain! I've got the CO!"

Sally stood with her hands in the soapy water, up to her wrists in dirty dishes, and played back the conversation she'd had with Chris.

"So, it's over," she had said. And he had agreed.

Though she had known it was over, and though she had been the one to broach the subject, it was still a punch to the gut to hear him agree.

He had sat across from her sipping a glass of scotch. It was the same scotch she sometimes poured a finger of while he was at sea. The scent of it calmed her, reminding her of him and his steady presence.

There was already somebody else. She could tell. She could see it in the sag of his shoulders and the guilt in his smile. It was in the way he stared into his glass of scotch instead of into her eyes.

It had stung. Oh, it had stung.

Yet even now, with him gone again on another patrol, drifting ever farther away, the anger she kept expecting never appeared.

The water was going cold around her hands and she felt beneath the surface, grabbing a plate and washing it before rinsing it and placing it in the dish rack.

He'd slept on the lounge every night he was home. He'd arranged for someone to come in and fix the back garden fence. He'd dug up the weeds invading the patio. He'd helped her cook dinner and he'd taken Chloe to the park every morning. He'd fit into their lives exactly as he would have before they had agreed it was over between them. Only this time there was a finality to his actions. When he left for patrol, Sally had been aware that it was the last time she would be seeing him off as his wife.

She didn't hold it against him that he'd cheated on her, she only regretted that neither of them had had the courage to mention a divorce long before it came to this. In retrospect, it had to have been her who brought it up. Chris was always too kind for his own good. He would have limped along unhappily in their marriage forever, if she let him.

She swirled a few more dishes through the water, half-heartedly. Then in a flurry of activity, she washed and rinsed them all, stacking them neatly in the drying rack and pulling the plug on the dirty water.

Sally's own parents were still together. Divorce was rare in her family. She didn't know what this should look like. How does one navigate a divorce? Where would Chris live? How would Chloe get enough time with him if he was on a ship and then God-knows-where the rest of the time?

She checked in on Chloe, napping quietly, and then made her way back to the kitchen. In the far back of the highest cupboard above the fridge was a large cookie jar filled with old wine corks. Ostensibly, she'd use them for a craft project someday. She pulled the jar down and placed it on the bench, drumming her fingers slowly against her collar bone as she considered her next move.

The baby monitor stayed quiet.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the midday lull.

Sally pushed her hand through the pile of corks, further into the jar, and her fingers closed around the forbidden cellophane, dragging out an old package of Benson & Hedges.

She pulled out one cigarette, tucking it between her lips as she re-hid the rest of the pack under the corks and shoved the jar back into the cupboard. There was a spark of rebellion in this act that thrilled her. Chris may have another woman stashed away somewhere, but Sally had her secrets, as well.

As she headed for the back patio, she fished the lighter out of her purse. Chris always joked with her that she'd quit smoking before their wedding but he'd never known her not to carry a lighter. She carried it out of habit, but she was also scared that one day there would come a moment when she needed a smoke and didn't have a lighter. Today was that long-dreaded day when she needed a smoke.

She sat down on one of the patio chairs and lit the cigarette easily, as if it hadn't been seven years since her last smoke.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself, disappointed that she felt the need for a smoke. Her marriage had just crumbled around her–surely this was an excuse for a bit of backsliding.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, pulling up her list of contacts. She started scrolling but got stuck on the screen with Chris's name.

She had already known a divorce was coming and she had made peace with it. She hadn't suspected that he would cheat on her, though, and it had taken her by surprise. She was hurt by it…but not as hurt as she should be. Chris wasn't hers, anymore, and her subdued reaction to the fact that he'd cheated on her only underscored that on some level, she'd known he hadn't been hers for a long while.

She took a long drag on the cigarette and suppressed a cough. Her lungs were no longer used to the harsh bite of nicotine. She looked back down at her phone and scrolled to the name she was looking for: Peter T.

Sally held the cigarette between her lips while she used both hands to type out a brief message.

"Remember those cigarettes you made me hide from you when you quit? They aren't hidden any more…"

She hit send and flipped her phone screen-down on the table. She didn't expect a response from Pete any time soon. She only had space in her head for the comings and goings of one ship, the Hammersley, and while she knew the name of the ship Pete had been posted to, she didn't know his schedule.

With Chloe fast asleep upstairs and Chris at sea, Sally sat in the shade of the house and smoked a forbidden cigarette.

The day before Chris had shipped back out…she blinked, startled to realize it had only been a few days ago…she had come downstairs in the morning to find him getting ready to go out.

"Sal, I'm sorry but I've got to go. Mike is out of the hospital." He'd paused then, as if he didn't know how to say goodbye without kissing her. Which was probably true, because she was only starting to learn how to not kiss him, herself.

When he returned, in time for dinner but not a minute sooner, there was no telltale sign like in the movies. He didn't have lipstick on his collar or the scent of another woman's perfume lingering on his skin, but Sally knew anyway.

What woman would he see during the course of his day visiting his CO? Sally thought of the women sailors she'd met over the years: Nikki, Bomber, the gap year recruit, Jess. There weren't a lot of them. There was one woman, however, who had been a constant in Chris's stories for a long time: Kate McGregor.

Sally gave a gasp as she put the pieces together. She turned from the stove to watch Chris as he played with Chloe.

It was suddenly obvious to her that Kate was the woman who had made her husband a happier version of himself. It was in the easy swing of his arms as he lifted Chloe from the floor. It was in his smile–the smile she knew meant he had something special and was keeping it a secret, keeping it to himself, until it was solid enough to be shared with the world.

Sally kept an eye on him while she finished cooking dinner, watching as he laughed and played with Chloe and her toys. She hadn't seen him so happy in a long time and she felt her eyes tear up as she realized that their divorce was a new chance at happiness for both of them.

The loud squawking of a bird in a neighboring tree jerked her from her reverie. Cigarette smoke clung to her hair and her shirt and Sally briefly considered that this cigarette had just cost her the time it would take to shower and do laundry before Chloe woke up. It had done its job, though. She was calm. The frantic energy she'd felt while doing the dishes had left her.

She took one final inhale, stubbed the butt of the cigarette out on the stone patio beneath her feet, and then exhaled. Her phone buzzed with a new text, "? Don't do it!" from Pete.

Sally laughed. She was going to miss Chris's friends once their divorce was out in the open.

"Too late, Pete, too late." She said out loud as she waved any lingering smoke away from the door and re-entered her house.

Dutchy stood next to Mike on the top deck and watched the others make their way aboard. Swain had arrived early. The X had arrived exactly on time.

Mike had been lost in his thoughts all morning but his focus returned when Kate neared the ship. Dutchy watched Mike watch Kate and knew it was over between them. Whatever they'd had going on was finished. The same way that whatever he'd had going on with Kate was also finished.

Swain's voice called out from the quarterdeck to Kate and her entire face lit up with a smile. Mike frowned so deeply that Dutchy couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

Mike glared at him and it was only the sight of 2 Dads, running down the pier in a desperate attempt to not be any later than he already was, that allowed Dutchy to lie about the reason for his laughter.

"2 Dads, sir," Dutchy pointed.

"Right," Mike had agreed with the unspoken reason for laughter. Then Mike returned to frowning.

Dutchy had had it bad for Kate McGregor. He'd bought her presents, taken her for drinks…wooed her in all the ways that he would never bother wooing another woman. He had known Kate was a cut above others, nevermind that she was technically above him as well, given her rank.

He watched 2 Dads catch up to Kate and both of them stop to speak with Swain. He couldn't make out what they said but he could make out the easy smile on Kate's face and the way her shoulders relaxed.

Things would be easier, now. Easier for him, at least–Mike clearly needed to figure out his own shit. Dutchy headed inside and took a seat in the pilot's chair, kicking his feet up in front of him, waiting for the others.

Kate looked happy, her countenance was lighter than he'd ever seen it–if this was Swain's doing then good on him. Dutchy picked up the binoculars and focused them on a pleasure boat full of bikini clad tourists a few piers over.

His smile broadened. Kate was happy, Swain was happy, and Dutchy was sure they were adult enough to keep this off the ship. The CO would never have to know and he'd eventually lose interest–or possibly he'd figure it out and either the X or Swain would transfer off. Either way, it wouldn't be him telling the boss about the reason for the happiness on Kate's face.

One of the tourists bent over and Dutchy let out a low whistle at the sight. Maybe Dutchy could convince the boss to go for a drink, take his mind off things…he was always looking for a good wingman.

Charge was only half listening to 2 Dads's high pitched and over-excited chattering, but the sudden tightening of Swain's jaw made Charge snap to attention. This was Swain about to blow a gasket.

"...I'll have to ask my divorce lawyer about it," Swain's voice was deadly low and eerily even. He pushed himself back from his chair and strode from the room.

Charge felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Swain was getting divorced.

Before he could stop himself, he reached over and smacked his hand against the back of 2 Dads's head. "Meathead," he hissed the insult at 2 Dads, who was already whining about it to the X.

Charge watched as the X followed Swain from the room. The sailors around him fell back into conversation but Charge couldn't unsee the way her eyes had tracked Swain as he walked away. There was something beyond the typical duty of care in her expression.

He glanced around the table to see if anyone else had noticed. Dutchy was suspiciously quiet, reading a magazine at the far end of the table. He seemed to feel Charge's gaze on him because he lifted his head, met Charge's eye and then glanced back down at the magazine.

Suspicious, Charge thought. The XO, happier than she'd been in months…Swain, getting divorced…Charge was surprised to find his mouth hadn't dropped open with surprise when he finally put the pieces together.

The X was already up and following Swain out of the room but Charge needed to know for himself. He'd spent years having barbecues at Swain and Sally's place, he was like an uncle to Chloe, he felt like their home was an extension of his home. It was a place he could go and feel like less of a bachelor. To think of Sally without Swain, or Swain without Sally…Charge swallowed back his feelings and pushed himself to his feet, following the X into the hall.

He gave a quick rap on the wardroom door with his knuckles before he pushed it open, looking for Swain.

"X, sorry, didn't realize you were in here." Charge started to leave.

"It's fine, come in." She waved him inside.

"What's up?" Swain gave him a tight smile.

"Just–just wanted to check on you. I didn't know things had gotten so rough between you and Sal."

"I should go." The X stood up and slipped out of the room.

Charge kept his eyes on Swain, who kept his eyes on the X.

Charge placed his hand flat on the door and slowly pushed it shut until it latched, his eyes never leaving Swain's face.

"What. The. Fuck." Charge needed to hear it from Swain, needed to hear that he was going crazy and imagining things–things like his best mate and their boss having a marriage-ending affair.

Swain finally met Charge's eye. He sighed and then he smiled.

"Don't smile!" Charge hissed at him. "You're smiling? Oh my God, you're smiling! This is so much worse than I thought."

Swain shrugged and the smile left his face. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner–about me and Sal. It was–it was a long time coming. Neither of us wanted to be the one to say it so we just didn't. Honestly, we should have gotten divorced a long time ago."

Charge let the news sink in. Then he thought of the most important change their divorce would bring. "Will she still make me muffins?"

Swain let out a quick laugh. "Mate, I'm sure she will if you ask nicely. She's divorcing me, not you."

Charge grinned at the sound of Swain's laughter. While his own experience with divorce had been messy and painful, he had faith that if anyone could manage a divorce gracefully, it would be Swain and Sally.

Sally looked up from her grocery list at the sound of the house phone ringing from its base on the bench next to her. Chloe was playing quietly on the rug and the phone cut through the peace of their morning.

She checked her cell phone, silent beside her, and there were no missed messages or calls. It was unusual for her friends to call the house before they tried her mobile.

"Hello?" She sounded skeptical, answering, part of her dreading that it could be bad news about Chris, even though she knew that she was no longer his emergency contact, no longer listed as next of kin.

"Hi, Sally?"

"Yes?"

"It's Pete."

His voice was familiar and she felt her stomach flip at the sound of it. She reasoned that it was nerves about having to tell him that she and Chris were getting divorced.

"Hi," she said, more warmth in her voice than when she had first answered.

"Is Swain around? I couldn't reach him on his mobile. I'm posting back to Cairns. Thought we could all hang out again next weekend. Get the old gang back together."

"Oh." Sally faltered. "Oh, Pete." She didn't know how to say it. Chris's friends had come to feel like her own friends over the years but having to tell Pete that she and Chris had decided to divorce–she worried that he'd pick sides and it wouldn't be her side he landed on.

"Is everything okay?" His voice was serious.

"Yes. Yes, it's…it's okay, now. We got divorced. Chris lives with Kate now." Chris had told her that he didn't want to make a big deal about their divorce, but she hadn't realized that extended to not telling his friends. Typical Chris, preferring to do everything in person even when that meant waiting six months for Pete to get back into town.

She was met with silence.

"Peter?"

"I'm here. I just–I can't–what do you mean: Kate?"

"The XO on the Hammersley. Kate McGregor. She has a townhouse over by the marina and Chris moved in there." Pete stayed quiet. Sally offered more information, "I have her phone number written down in case of emergencies–in case Chloe needs–" Sally was already moving toward the list of important phone numbers that she kept tacked to the wall above the house phone.

"I'm–I don't know what to say, Sal."

"You should see them together." She found herself wanting to explain the situation to the only other person who had known Chris as long as she had. "Chris is so happy. And Kate is wonderful with Chloe. I think the fact that she's had to deal with you lot for so many years gave her the patience to deal with a toddler." She paused before she admitted to him, "We hadn't been happy for years."

She thought of all the times that Charge and Buffer and Chefo, and–before his death–ET, had sat around getting drunk on her patio. She thought of how happy she and Swain had been, then, and how they had lost that happiness. "It's bittersweet but–" She paused to find the right words. "But I'm happy, too, now."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

She wasn't sure whether he was apologizing for the last few years of her quietly unhappy marriage or for the fact that he had been gone long enough that he hadn't heard about the divorce. Silence stretched between them.

"The X, though?" Pete finally asked.

Sally laughed at the incredulity in his voice and her laughter jarred something loose in him so that he chuckled as well.

"Never would have seen this coming, is all," he confessed. She could almost hear him shrugging through the phone line.

"Neither would I. But it did happen. And somehow, miraculously, it's all working out for the better."

She cradled the phone on her shoulder, pressed against her cheek, and watched Chloe stack blocks. If Chris could find love in a wholly unexpected place, maybe she could as well. She thought about the life that Chris and Kate were building together and she saw a glimpse of a future where she could have the same thing. She could build a new life, as well.