A/N — Sasha's team have potty-mouths. You've been warned. LOL. Also, in case anyone is wondering, I'm updating this quickly to catch up to Bookworms and then we'll settle into a more sustainable schedule. xoxo — tmtcltb
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Chapter 3
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"Tex, when you are finished here, please find me." Rachel said as she began packing up her equipment. "I want to take a few more blood samples but need to do so outside of the tent."
Tex wiggled his eyebrows in response. "When that's done, how does a little dinner sound? I happen to know a great place with an excellent cook."
"Is that cook named Bacon?" Danny replied.
Tex laughed. "I see that you and the missus have enjoyed the same fine establishment."
Given that Rachel was wearing a hazmat suit, Sasha couldn't see her expression but she assumed that the scientist was rolling her eyes at both men. Sasha certainly was. Rachel stood, picking up her bag. "Perhaps, once I finish going over the results of the blood draws."
"Come on, Doc, do they look sick?" Tex cajoled, and this time Rachel definitely rolled her eyes before moving to the doorway that led to decontamination. As soon as she disappeared, Tex threw himself onto a cot he commandeered after being stuck in the tent for hours while the Nathan James was in quiet two and decontamination was unavailable, tucking his hands behind his head. "I think I'm making progress."
Danny snorted. "If you mean that she's interested in your blood, you might be onto something. Otherwise you are striking out left and right."
Sasha picked up her tablet, reviewing her options without much interest. In the last four days, she had read — or at least skimmed — both books that she downloaded before leaving Norfolk, as well as every available magazine and book that Tex managed to round up from the crew outside the tent. And while she agreed with Danny about Tex's chances of scoring a date with Rachel, Tex did have a point about the blood samples. Rachel could check them as much as she wanted, but Sasha was fine. Actually, all of them were with the exception of Wohl, who had spent most of his time in the tent emptying his bowels. But since stomach problems were not known symptoms of the virus, and Wohl's blood samples showed no signs of an active infection, Rachel seemed confident that Wohl's problems were a reaction to the vaccine. Sasha figured that the the only thing that mattered was that none of them — including Wohl — had developed any of the most common symptoms of the virus. Fever, boils, hallucinations, hemorrhaging, death. Hell, she would take a month of sitting on a chamber pot if it meant avoiding the Red Flu.
An image of Danny's face from the week before popped into Sasha's mind, almost unrecognizable from the sores that covered every visible inch. Her stomach clenched as she recalled those long minutes of watching him drift in and out of consciousness, wheezing with every breath, terrified that each would be his last.
"Because you aren't just my friend or partner or the person I trust most in the world, Kotenok. You're my family."
"It's been a privilege, Lisichka."
Sasha prided herself on her ability to remain objective, to play out scenarios and, by doing so, always remain one step ahead of those around her. But seeing Danny like that, knowing that any minute could be his last, shook her. Not only because the idea of losing him was a physical ache, but also because Sasha never considered a scenario where she had to watch Danny die. After he and Rebecca started getting serious last year, Sasha had considered the possibility of him not re-upping and went as far as ensuring that Danny had a standing job offer with a well-known security contractor in Hartford, Connecticut. One who owed her a favor, naturally, but also a place where Danny would enjoy the work. Although, officially, he would merely consult for the Navy, Sasha doubted that Danny would be content riding a desk for long. In fact, she and Benz had a bet on it. Frankie thought that Danny would be back in the field within three months. Sasha gave him a year but only because Danny would be too stubborn to admit his mistake before then. But for all of her planning, Sasha never imagined Danny leaving her behind — probably because whenever she ran such a catastrophic scenario, she was always in the body bag next to him.
"Because I couldn't leave you here, alone, knowing what it's like... Knowing what it's like to lose someone you ... love."
Sasha squeezed her eyes shut, unable to block out the way he gazed at her, the catch in his voice. Tom had understood. He hadn't focused on the vaccine or reminded her that losing people was an inevitable part of what they did — which might be true but meant nothing when Danny was dying before her eyes. Instead, he accepted that she was mourning. Wanting only to be there for her. Which is probably why Sasha broke one of her cardinal rules.
Discussing them.
Keeping her distance had been hard enough before but now...now, with Tom's offer dangling in front of her, Sasha wanted to believe that the events of fourteen years ago were merely a colossal misunderstanding. One that could be fixed or, at least, allow them to move forward. Yet even as she yearned to grab everything her was promising, Sasha knew that they couldn't simply resurrect what existed between them all those years ago. Time had not stood still. Tom had married, had children, and worked his way up an entirely new career path. He was an entirely different man than the one she fell in love with. And while the changes to Sasha might not be as outwardly apparently, Sasha could barely recall that girl she was before Grozny. She had changed too, perhaps even more than Tom. Their break-up was part of that, of course — having your heart shattered would change anyone — but it was also the things that she had seen and done, the places that she had been and the people she met. Thinking back upon her twenty-one year old self, Sasha was only surprised that she made it through that first operation without being killed — naivety had no place in war.
In the cot next to hers, Danny began shifting around. "Ouch."
Dropping her tablet back to the cot, Sasha turned in his direction, taking a moment to study Danny. Most of the sores were gone, the color having returned to his face. Although Rachel continued to insist that he shouldn't exert himself, it was obvious that Danny was getting restless, pacing back and forth across the small space whenever Rachel was away from the helo bay and even attempting some yoga with Maya and Nina this morning. He was already talking about plans once they got back to the States.
As if there was a chance in hell of Sasha asking him to do anything that might result in so much as a papercut.
"You okay?"
Danny made an odd face. "Help me up."
Concerned by the unexpected request, Sasha stood immediately, wrapping an arm around Danny's torso while he levered himself upwards. She waited while he steadied himself. "You want me to call Rachel? You didn't need help getting up yesterday."
"Oh, nothing to worry about. Charley horse." Danny dropped his arm from Sasha's shoulders, bending down to rub at his left shin.
Puzzled, and making a mental note to mention the incident to Rachel — Sasha had no doubt that Danny would say anything to get out of this tent — Sasha turned back towards her cot. Only to come face-to-face with Tom, who was standing on the other side of the tent wall. Their eyes met and he nodded, before saying something to Rios and striding away. Sasha swung around to face Danny, arms across her chest.
"Did you enjoy that?" She asked, pitching her voice so that nobody else could hear.
"Hell yeah. Gotta take my fun where I can," Danny replied, only to immediately scowl.
"What now?" Sasha demanded. "You want me to help you to the can?"
Danny shook his head. "I think I might have just quoted Burk. Promise me that you'll kill me if that happens again." At Sasha's frosty silence, he tipped his head to the side, giving her the cheeky grin that never failed to have the ladies swooning. "Too soon?"
"It will never not be too soon," Sasha muttered.
Danny laughed. "Killjoy."
"Just remember that you are totally replaceable," Sasha replied, settling back onto her cot.
"Is that so?" Danny queried. "You think Benz has what it takes?"
Sasha turned towards Tex, raising her voice. "Hey Nolan, how do you feel about working joint ops?"
Tex grinned. "Tell me when and where and I'm in."
xxxxx
Sasha was three steps from the hazmat tent, ringing water from her hair with a towel, when Frankie Benz appeared in her peripheral vision. "Thank you dear sweet baby Jesus for giving us back the Captain-whisperer." He stopped, narrowing his eyes at her. "Do you have any idea what the last week has been like?"
"I do recall something about volunteering for a vaccine trial," Sasha began, only to stop abruptly. The decontamination area had blocked the view of this area from inside the tent and she was startled to see rows and rows of wooden crates. "What happened here?"
"Doctor Scott's trying to stockpile doses of the vaccine," Frankie replied, brushing off the question. "More importantly, the CO has lost his goddamn mind. He has half the crew on watch and the other half running drills and he wants me to coordinate the damn things. You need to do something."
"Ah, poor baby, stuck doing his job," Green commented as he joined Sasha outside the hazmat tent. She shifted to the side, knowing that the Master Chief was no more than two minutes behind Danny. She was somewhat surprised that Rachel wasn't here to meet them but, having officially determined that they were not contagious and therefore could be released from their prison, Rachel must have turned her attention to more pressing matters.
Like vaccine production, if the boxes were anything to go by.
Frankie's gaze bounced from Sasha to Danny and back. "Why are you both wet? And do not tell me that you were showering together because I don't think the Captain is okay that treating Cooper like one of the guys shit. At least between the two of you."
"There's nothing going on between me and Captain Chandler," Sasha replied coolly, far too aware of how easily ship gossip spread.
Frankie didn't even pause. "So far I've spent half this cruise freezing my ass off on the ice and the other half getting yelled at by the XO for covering for the two of you..."
"Oh really?" Sasha replied, eyes wide. "I had no idea that you sleeping with my cabinmate was for my benefit. How stupid of me."
"The lack of appreciation..." Benz began.
Danny scoffed. "Decontamination."
"What?" Benz replied.
"We're wet because we had to go through decontamination," Danny explained, impatiently. "If you aren't wearing a hazmat suit, it gets you wet."
"Because of the water," Sasha added, drawing out each word.
"And it kind of hurts," Danny noted, rubbing at his arms.
Ignoring whatever Benz was saying, Sasha turned her focus to Danny. The water had stung — the way the water shot out from the jets felt like a million tiny stings — but it was well worth it to finally be clean. Tex brought in wet wipes daily and even offered to wash her back for her, but they weren't even to get actually clean. Sasha had almost regretted when her two minutes were up. She would have loved to scrub her scalp. However, it appeared that in addition to taking off sweat and grim, the water might actually have reopened some of Danny's sores. "It took off some of the scabs. You should probably have Rachel or Rios take a look at those."
Danny groaned. "Later. I promise I'll have Rachel take a look. Right after I find Kara."
Sasha shook her head as Benz mimicked vomiting. "If prior experience tells me anything, Kotenok, we aren't going to be seeing much of you once you find Kara. Nor," she clarified, "will we want to. So you can go now or I can tell Rachel that you're oozing and let her interrupt your reunion."
Groaning and muttering under his breath, Danny turned in the direction of sick bay. Sasha hung back, studying Benz. "You waiting for Nina?"
"Nope." He shifted, eyes not quite meeting hers. "I offered to help take the tent down. Everything is contaminated and needs to be trashed."
Suppressing a chuckle, Sasha smiled — and then made a mental note to avoid her cabin for the next several hours. There was a limit to how often she wanted to see Benz's bare ass.