A/N — welcome to my newest story! If there is anyone who is coming to this story cold, there are a few critical things to know: Tom and Sasha had a nasty breakup many years ago, Tom is divorced, Danny and Sasha have worked together for years and are close friends, "Mr. Cooper" was part of Sasha's cover, Danny and Kara are married, Sasha was on the Nathan James when it left Norfolk, and Danny was infected with the virus after a scuffle with Tophet. Chronologically, this chapter comes after Chapter 41 of Bookworms.

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Chapter 1

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"I nominated Green for the Navy Cross."

Sasha's hands tightened on the rail where she stood, staring into the darkness. She didn't want him seeing her like this. Vulnerable. And yet, he was the only person she could possibly talk to right now. The only person who might understand. Not because he too felt the weight, the responsibility, of sending another to their death, but because he knew her.

He knew that saying goodbye to Danny was tearing her apart.

"We wouldn't have a vaccine right now if Green hadn't stopped Tophet," Tom continued. He paused, his voice dropping. "He won't die in vain, Sasha. We will get it back to the States and stop this thing."

Sasha nodded, having expected nothing less. That was the reason she chose the Nathan James, after all, when the Secretary of Defense approved this trip to the Arctic. Because of Tom. Because Sasha knew that, when the chips were down, Tom would listen to her — no matter how far-fetched her story — and, more importantly, he would do what was necessary to protect Rachel and allow her to continue her work. But what Sasha hadn't considered — or, perhaps, simply hadn't acknowledged — was how hard it would be to see Tom again. To work with him day after day, never more than five-hundred and ten feet apart, always imagining how different things might be if the past wasn't sitting between them like a wedge.

"He's here because of me, Tom. He's dying because of me." Her voice was hoarse and another tear slid down her face. Sasha wrapped her arms around her waist, but it did nothing to banish the ice that formed while she was sitting in that hazmat tent, watching her best friend die. "I have this letter addressed to his parents that I can't even deliver because his mother is already dead. Danny didn't want to come. He..."

Sasha forced herself to stop talking. Reminding herself that, even if this was Tom, he was also a commander in the United States Navy and there were some things that he didn't need to know. She had been playing fast and loose since the day she boarded the Nathan James, confident that all would be forgiven when they returned to the States with the building blocks for a vaccine and evidence of Tophet's treachery.

But that was before.

Before Tophet stole the primordial. Before he killed Pearson and shot Barker. Before he released the virus and infected Danny...

Pain burned through her, so intense that breathing was agony. She has screwed up, misjudged Tophet, and now Danny was paying for that mistake with his life. Inevitably, even if Rachel's experimental vaccine did work, someone was going to have to take the blame for what happened. Sasha understood that, she accepted it. But she would be damned if she was going to let anyone pin it on Danny.

Tom spoke again, the words soft. "Just you and me tonight, Sasha. No Navy. You have my word."

She choked, another tear running down her face. How often had Tom said those words? Back when breaking the rules felt like nothing more than a game. Two kids sneaking around behind big brother's back, no understanding of what was truly at stake.

"Berchem had some ... personal stuff going on," Sasha said finally. "Danny had written him up. I convinced him to pull the report."

"Booze," Tom replied.

Sasha froze. "What?"

"Commander Hurtado called me," Tom replied, voice neutral, but she felt him move closer. "He wanted to let me know about the team, and to give me a heads up, just in case. He thought Green pulled the report because four months in the Arctic would be good for Berchem. Dry him out and give him some time to get his head on straight. Hurtado agreed. I did too, actually." Tom paused. "Of course, neither of us knew what was really going on."

"When Danny found out that we were joining the Nathan James, he was furious that I put him in that position with Kara." Sasha gave a strangled laugh. "Believe it or not, Danny has a firm policy against mixing work and play."

"Actually, Hurtado mentioned that too. While he was warning me about Benz." There was a short pause before Tom continued. "Hurtado said the team was unconventional but damn good at their jobs. Frankly, it's the only reason I didn't write you and Green up for inappropriate behavior before the James ever left Norfolk."

Recalling the way Tom glared at Danny during that first horrible meeting, Sasha found herself laughing. A sound that quickly transformed into a sob. "I boxed him in Tom. Forced him here." Sasha choked. "He's dying because of me."

"Bullshit."

The harsh response was so unexpected that Sasha spun, facing Tom for the first time. Searching for his face in the dark. He shifted closer, until they were less than a foot apart. His eyes burned into her, stripping her down, leaving her exposed.

"I saw Danny's file, Sasha," Tom continued. "Green has been your go-to for years, if the matching blackouts in your files mean anything. And nobody blacks out a standard recon run in the Middle East. My guess? Afghanistan, Somalia, Vladivostok."

The first two were obvious. Every operator worth their salt spent time in Afghanistan, and Somalia had been more problematic than usual in recent years so it was a fair guess. But Vladivostok was classified. Not Kona borehole deep but not something that could be discovered through normal channels either. Sasha remained mute.

"He knew that this wasn't a pleasure cruise, Sasha, and he made the choice to come. You wanted Green here because you needed someone you could trust, and he agreed because he knew that if you were asking, it was important."

Sasha let the words roll over her, her mind whirling, pieces falling into place. "You pulled my file."

"The real one, you mean?" Tom replied, a twist to his lip. "I still have a few friends in high places. Although not high enough for the unredacted version, apparently."

Sasha considered how Tom could have pulled her file without her — or more importantly Shannon, who excelled at finding digital fingerprints — knowing. Probably the same way Sasha got Sam and Ashley out of a hot zone. The old-fashioned way, one that involved picking up a phone. "Jed?"

Again that half-smile. "He has a soft spot for you."

"The feeling is mutual."

Silence fell, the only sound the waves slapping the hull. The Arctic breeze ruffled Tom's hair as it shone in the moonlight, now more silver than brown. Although it was too dark to see his face clearly, Sasha knew his features as well — perhaps better — than she had fourteen years ago. Back then, she took that knowledge for granted. Not yet understanding the panic of waking in the middle of the night, Tom's name on her lips, only to realize that she could no longer picture the way that his forehead wrinkled when he laughed.

Sasha's jaw tightened. "Why are you here, Tom?"

"Because I couldn't leave you here, alone, knowing what it's like..." The words were so quiet that she barely heard them. "Knowing what it's like to lose someone you ... love."

Sasha felt a fresh gush of tears, raising a hand to her mouth. "He's more than a friend, Tom. He's my family. Through it all, Danny's been there."

The words hung between them, along with everything else that remained unspoken. Tom shifted closer and, when he finally spoke, the words were wry. "Sasha Cooper. The only woman in the world who could make me want to trade places with a dying man."

"Why?" Sasha blurted, before a slightly hysterical burst of laughter broke through.

Tom's eyes flashed. "Because he had those years with you."

"I'm not the person he wanted those years with," Sasha whispered, anguish tearing through her as she pictured Kara's face when she left the hazmat tent. Danny had a wife who loved him, a baby on the way. He shouldn't be the one dying — not when he had so much to live for. Sasha turned back to the rail, curling her hands around the metal. "And you made your choice, Tom."

"No!" Tom growled, his voice unexpectedly harsh. "You don't get to play that card, Sasha. Not when you were the one who left. What did you expect to happen when you disappeared?"

"I risked everything to send you that letter," Sasha hissed. "Do you know how classified that operation was? I could have been court-martialed for even mentioning it!"

"What letter?"

Sasha froze at the words, her chest tightening into something that might have been hope, before she quashed it. She whirled, finger stabbing into Tom's chest. "The letter that I personally gave to Jed. The letter that he promised me would get to you. And don't even pretend to tell me that your father — the one who managed to get you my top-secret, classified file — didn't have some backchannel way of contacting you."

She wasn't sure what she was expecting — anger or defensiveness or a flat out lie — but instead Tom took a step back, his breath growing shallow. "Oh god." When his eyes met hers, they were haunted. "It was my first operation back with SWCC. After what happened in Bosnia, I didn't want to worry them."

Although the injury occurred before they met, Sasha could still picture the ragged scar that Tom carried on his thigh from a bullet that hit less than an inch from his femoral artery. Later she learned how close he came to bleeding out, refusing to call for a medical evacuation, not wanting to blow the operation. As understanding struck, calm descended over Sasha. "You were supposed to be going to the Middle East as part of the response to the USS Cole bombing. A babysitting mission, you said when you called. Nothing more exciting than staring at sand."

Sasha had been suspicious. The phone calls had come at odd hours, and something about the background noise felt all wrong. Plus there was that weird lag in the mail, with Tom not getting packages mailed weeks prior. But she had brushed it all aside, certain that Tom would never lie to her.

God she had been gullible.

"It was," Tom replied, his inflection giving away nothing. Which, Sasha knew, meant that he was lying. She allowed the silence to stretch. That technique worked on almost everyone, and Tom was not exception. "We were tracking an Al-Qaeda cell through Sudan. It was supposed to be in-and-out, just a couple days off the ship, but everything kept going wrong."

Sasha's eyes closed, the dots connecting. "You left the USS Laboon once you reached the Gulf. That explains the delay, they were rerouting your mail."

"Sometimes," Tom interjected. "You know how it is when you're in the field."

Sasha did — because of Danny. His mother wrote to him daily. Tidbits about her day. Notes on his brother and sister. Complaints about her rose bushes. But Danny was lucky to get half of the letters as they were forwarded from place to place, the other half probably tossed into the ocean. A memory surfaced of the two of them laughing as they tried to figure out what happened between the letter where Danny's sister was refusing to speak to Cruz, and the one where they were moving in together. And that's when Sasha realized that there would never be any more letters. Danny's mother was dead and he was ...

Banishing the thought, Sasha refocused on Tom, the pieces clicking into place. "You never got my letter."

"I got a couple," Tom hedged. "I got the one where you told me that you were being assigned to the Stennis."

Sasha snorted at the irony. The letter about her cover — the one she dashed off to avoid appearing suspicious should her relationship with Tom ever come to light — arrived. But the one that she spent hours writing and rewriting, and then personally delivered to Jed, never did. "Just like you were assigned to the Laboon?"

He nodded, conceding the point. "I made it three months before the leg gave out during a firefight. I knew immediately that it was over. I couldn't put the team at risk like that again. I was in Germany for two weeks, recovering, before shipping home. Your apartment was the first place I went but you were just gone."

She could barely speak over the lump in her throat. "I was in Grozny for over a year. Joint task force with the Russians to infiltrate the Chechen separatists and stop the bombings. I made it six months before I broke down and called. A woman answered your phone."

Silence fell as they stared at each other. Then Tom moved, his arms going to the rail on either side of Sasha. "Sasha, I didn't know."

His face was drawn, tormented. It was a feeling that Sasha knew only too well. And one that she would never willingly experience again.

"It doesn't matter." Sasha lifted her chin. "Letter or no letter, you made your choice, Tom. You knew who I was, what I did. Yes, I left, but you didn't wait."

She pushed past Tom's arm and was moving towards the helo bay when he spoke again. "You're right Sasha, I didn't. I was angry and I acted rashly. But I won't make that mistake again."

Sasha hesitated, then glanced backwards. "Whatever we had is over, Tom."

"And yet we're both here." Tom stood against the rail, arms folded across his chest. "I'm not going anywhere, Sasha. This time the choice is yours."