Hobson's Choice

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Stepping into sick bay, Kara's eyes zeroed in on her husband. Danny was sitting sideways in a chair, elbows on knees, as Timothy Rios dug the bullet out of his left lower back. Danny's hands were clenched, but Kara assumed it was from the uncomfortable feeling of having something digging around inside of him, rather than actual pain. Despite Danny's general dislike of pain-killers, Rios would have insisted on given Danny at least a local anesthetic before cutting into him.

"Got it." Timothy raised the small, dull object above Danny's head, allowing Kara to see. "Just a fragment. Looks like the bullet shattered and the vest got most of it. Didn't hit anything major, Commander."

Danny's eyes shot up, apparently unaware of Kara's arrival until Rios spoke, confirming Kara's earlier suspicion that Timothy gave him some sort of pain medication. Danny was usually far more observant. Their eyes caught, and held. This wasn't the first time she had seen him since his dive off the cliff, of course. She was in the helo bay when the RHIB bearing Danny, Wolf and Sasha returned and had seen his again in the wardroom when Slattery gave them their marching orders for the next day, but this was the first time that she could do more than ensure he was alive and walking.

Kara took a moment to run her gaze over all of him. With the exception of the bloody patch on his back, nothing appeared amiss. The hole in Danny's back seemed to be little more than a flesh wound, and none of the TAC team seemed to suffer any real damage from their blind jump off the cliff-face into unknown waters. She nodded at Timothy, lips pressed firmly together, not wanting to risk have her trembling voice give away just how shaken she was. Things could have been so much worse.

"Thanks Doc," Danny said gruffly, his eyes still fixed on Kara.

"I've got some other patients to attend to, if you don't mind finishing the bandaging, Commander Green," Rios replied, already pulling off his gloves in anticipation of her agreement.

Despite her roiling emotions, Kara found herself smiling at Timothy's formality. They had worked together on the Nathan James for years, with Kara serving as his extra set of hands on more than one occasion. "Of course, Doc. Happy to help."

Timothy shut the door behind him as he left, giving them a modicum of privacy. Confirming that Timothy had already gathered the necessary supplies, Kara moved forward, taking the opportunity to run her hand from Danny's shoulder down his back as she moved around him. Relishing the feel of taunt, warm skin and muscles that bunched under her touch, reassuring her that he really was okay.

"Were there any fatalities?" Danny asked as Kara snapped on her gloves and began to clean the blood that had trickled from the wound.

"No. With power down we had to aim manually. Nishioka took out the first missile. Second hit the deck but not a direct angle. Carl must have nicked it. Eight people are injured, two critically, but both are stable."

Kara began wrapping the gauze around his midsection. The small talk, dancing around the real issue, both irritated and soothed her nerves. It felt so ordinary, this end of the day chit-chat. What happened during his day, what happened during hers. But in an almost absurd manner given that her day consisted of sending a missile directly at him, and his day consisted of jumping off a cliff face without any idea what might be below.

"We got lucky," Danny replied solemnly.

Kara tended to agree, the location of the missile strike could have been far worse and caused far more damage. Still, as TAO, she could let the possible slight to Carl go - not from a member of the TAC team, even if he was her husband. "Combined with excellent training and preparation for similar situations."

Her pert tone drew a chuckle, one that quickly turned to a hiss. Danny must have bruised a rib or two, either from the shot or the fall. "Smart thinking by you and Alisha to daisy-chain those batteries."

"I hate being blind," Kara replied quietly, momentarily reliving the terror of that moment. Of realizing that they had no power or weapons, and no means of helping Danny or his team. It was a feeling that she had experienced too often over the past two years. A feeling that she hoped to never experience again.

Taping off the bandage, Kara rounded the chair to help Danny into a clean shirt, but he clearly had a different idea, taking the opportunity to pull her onto his lap. She pushed away from his chest halfheartedly, dropping the shirt into his lap. "We promised Slattery..."

Danny stopped the words with his thumb. "We're not breaking any rules. Just bending them a little."

It was so reminiscent of the cocky, young Danny Green that she met in the Arctic that Kara smiled despite herself. Hands raising to his cheeks she met his eyes. "Don't ever do that to me again. Do you know what it did to me when I confirmed that fire order? And then when we couldn't raise you right away? I thought you were dead."

Danny's gaze didn't waiver. "If there's a choice between saving you and saving myself, I'll make the same decision every time. But I have no intentions of leaving you and Frankie anytime soon."

Kara swallowed, tears stinging her eyes, ones that she wouldn't allow to fall. "I could have killed you. How am I supposed to explain that to Frankie? That Daddy was killed by friendly fire. By friendly fire that I ordered."

His thumb moved, catching a tear that had escaped and was rolling down her face. "This was never on you, Kara. You're not the one who started this. You aren't the one who hid the seeds or who killed Mahmoud. This is on Omar or whoever sent those terrorists to Spain. It always was."

Objectively Kara knew that he was right, knew that she had no other option. She couldn't - wouldn't - allow another missile to hit the ship, to put the lives of her friends and colleagues at risk to save her husband. Still, the thought of having to someday explain to their son that she ordered the shot that killed his father, haunted Kara. "I love you. Please be careful out there."

"I am, sweetheart. I am." Danny bent, his lips brushing hers once gently, reassuringly, before growing more demanding. She could feel his fears - that he would die in that cave, never again see her or Frankie - in the pressure of his lips on hers, in the way one hand tangled in the hair at the base of her neck to draw her closer while the other one wrapped around her waist. Both of them drinking in the reassurance that the other person was still there. Still alive.

Several moments later, Kara leaned back, breaking the kiss somewhat reluctantly, but knowing that they were on borrowed time. Timothy had been kind enough to ignore regulations and give them a moment alone, she didn't want to abuse it. Stroking her thumb along Danny's now completely out of control beard, Kara bit down on her lip. "Iran next. I suppose that means that I'm stuck looking at this bush for a couple more days."

Danny grinned back, the same smile that she fell in love with back in the Arctic a moment or a lifetime ago. "Actually, I'm thinking about keeping it. It's like having a sweater for your face. I never get cold."

Arching an eyebrow at him, Kara pushed herself to her feet, slapping the forgotten shirt against his chest. "Warmer than sleeping next to your wife at night?"

Danny pulled his shirt over his head, only the slight hitch in his breathing revealing that the movement caused pain. "On second thought, my diving mask doesn't really fit well with the beard. That might be a deal-breaker."

"Would want to mess with your dive gear." Kara tilted her head, studying him, before reaching out to smooth several imaginary wrinkles out of his shirt. "See you at dinner, Lieutenant?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."