A/N — a drabble on what might have been happening on the bridge during that last scene in Bookworms. xoxo — tmtcltb
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Mike approached Tom from behind, moving to stand next to him at the window. His voice too low to be overheard by the rest of the crew when he asked. "You going to do anything about that?"
Tom took his eyes off the horizon, dropping them to the port deck, barely visible from the bridge unless you were standing in the exact spot that Tom had been occupying for the past ten minutes. That particular spot provided a perfect view of Lieutenant Danny Green and Lieutenant Kara Foster in flagrant violation of the frat rules. Tom lifted his coffee and took a sip. "Depends. Is Benz down there running interference?"
Mike chuckled. "Actually, it's Nolan. Grabbing everyone who goes near the hatch and telling them about his date with the Doc. The guy went into the wrong profession. He would have made a lot more money as an actor."
That distracted Tom enough to turn towards his XO. "Date?"
"Guard duty to the rest of us," Mike clarified, before adding. "Have to say, I'm not sure we can ignore this one. They aren't even trying to be discrete."
As if to prove Mike's point, Green slipped an arm around Foster and she reached a hand up to touch his cheek. Tom took a sip of his own coffee. "If there is chatter, I'll address it then."
Mike glanced at Tom sharply, his face conveying surprise and a hint of disapproval. Tom sighed. "You weren't there that day, Mike. I don't know exactly what Tophet had in that tube, if it was blood or what, but it was all over Green's chest. We all knew as soon as he stood up that he was infected. Green knew it too." Tom hesitated before adding. "The first thing Sasha did was yell at him not to do anything stupid."
There was silence as they watched Green spread his hand over Foster's stomach, his smile obvious even from sixty-three feet away.
"Think he would have done it?" Mike asked finally.
"I want to think that none of them would be that desperate," Tom said after a short pause. "But none of us were thinking straight up there in the Arctic, all worried about our families and frustrated by how little we could do. If Doctor Scott hadn't come through with a cure when she did, I really don't know what would have happened."
"Are you're cutting them slack because Green almost died?" Mike asked. "Or because you feel guilty about letting Tophet out of his cabin?"
Tom didn't answer — wasn't sure he knew the answer himself. He had spoken to Pearson's family via videoconference that morning, their devastation over their son's death tempered by Tom's assurances that he had been directly involved in finding the primordial and the development of the vaccine. Lies, but also not lies. He couldn't tell them, of course, that Pearson was killed while guarding Tophet. A death that could have been prevented had Tom not overridden Sasha's insistence that Tophet remained locked in his cabin. But if Tom hadn't allowed Tophet to assist Doctor Scott, who knew how much longer it would have taken to find the primordial? Pearson's death had saved thousands, if not millions.
Down below, Foster leaned up to kiss Green, before taking a step backwards and turning towards the hatch, presumably to head towards CIC. Mike leaned forward. "What is in Foster's hand?"
"Flowers," Tom replied, managing a straight face.
Mike choked. "Flowers?"
"Or something that passes if you squint. Courtesy of Bacon, I heard. For their one month anniversary," Tom explained.
"Newlyweds," Mike muttered. "Damn ugliest bouquet I've ever seen. Christine would have thrown that thing at my head."
Both Foster and Green were now out of sight. Tom turned to Mike. "Wardroom in fifteen? We need to go over the plan once we hit Florida."
"See you there," Mike replied, taking another gulp of his coffee. "Oh, and Tom?"
Tom turned, noticing the amused glint in Mike's eyes. "Yes, XO?"
"Word to the wise, if you want to give Cooper flowers, splurge and go to a florist."