"Come on. One drink." Dutchy held his hand out to her and she took it.
"One," she agreed.
Kate let Dutchy take her hand and pull her toward their crewmates. When they reached the others he let go of her hand theatrically, making a show of how he had just brought their XO to drink with them. They cheered her arrival and pulled up another chair for her. She hadn't thought she'd be good company tonight but it was hard to stay in a bad mood surrounded by sailors on R&R. Dutchy sat at her side, his light-hearted banter and constant smile helping to erase her murderous feelings toward Mike and the fact that he'd included her in his list of rejected promotion candidates.
One drink turned into too many and soon the only people left at the table were herself and Dutchy.
"One more?" He asked, making to get up and head for the bar.
Kate shook her head. "Definitely not."
Dutchy chuckled and downed the last of the whiskey in his glass.
"Bit of a lightweight tonight?" He teased.
"A lightweight!" Kate protested.
Dutchy laughed at her indignation and stood up, reaching for her hand to help her up. She grinned and took his hand, following him out of the bar and through the hotel lobby.
"Thanks for tonight, Dutchy." She squeezed his hand. "I thought I wanted to be alone, but this was just what I needed." She should let go of his hand. Her brain screamed at her that this didn't look good. But she felt petulant and she held onto his hand out of contrariness toward Mike and the Navy.
"No thanks necessary." He paused in the doorway of the hotel. It had started raining and the bitumen surface of the road was slick and shiny with puddles.
Kate frowned at the rain, thinking about how wet she'd get on her walk back to the dock. Dutchy released her hand and slid his arm around her shoulders, staring out at the rain with her. Again, her brain screamed at her to step away from him–to stop courting disaster–but she didn't.
"You feeling better now?" He turned his head to look down at her, seeming to see into her thoughts about Mike and his list of worthless candidates, of which she was one. "If he doesn't see your potential then that's his loss."
Kate didn't reply. She wasn't drunk enough to discuss her relationship with Mike with Dutchy. She was suddenly struck with a sobering thought: What if Mike was the complication ?
Her life had been getting complicated and she had attributed it to the chemistry she had with Dutchy but couldn't act on. But after tonight–one of them had compared her to a tugboat captain and the other had made sure she was surrounded by friends and provided a happy distraction. It wasn't Dutchy who complicated things–it was Mike.
She pushed down the unpleasant thought of Mike and then slipped out from under Dutchy's arm, leaning against the opposite side of the door from him. She was tipsy, and she was happy, and she didn't want thoughts of Mike to ruin it. She'd declined a call from him earlier in the night under the same premise.
"You said you'd walk me back to the ship but what about you? Aren't you going back?" She turned her attention to Dutchy, hoping he was tipsy enough not to notice the way she'd deflected his mention of Mike and her promotion.
He dropped his gaze to his shoes before looking back up at her, a faint blush across his cheeks.
"I got a hotel room," he admitted.
"What? Why?" She stepped away from him, turning to face him. "That's an irresponsible decision–you've got a perfectly good bunk on board."
Dutchy winced. "Uh...I had plans."
"Plans?"
"Yeah." His gaze slid out to the street and to the rain.
"They fell through?" Kate frowned, trying to figure out what he was getting at.
"You know how it is…it's a night of R&R. You make plans on the fly." He cut his gaze back to her, meeting her eye. "I decided it was more worthwhile to spend the evening with you."
It clicked, suddenly, and Kate let out a laugh. He'd given up an evening of flirting with strangers and a possible–probable–one night stand in favor of bonding with his crew and keeping her from moping.
"Really? You hung around making me feel better instead of picking up some hot tourist?" She felt bad to have ruined his plans but it was also admittedly hilarious that he had paid for a hotel room before finding anyone to share it with.
"Yeah." He frowned, as if only now realizing that he'd miscalculated.
Kate chuckled at his expression. "Don't worry, the night's still young. I'll go back to my own bed and you can head out to the club and track down your one night stand."
They both stared out at the rain and Dutchy shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine here. No point getting swept away in a flash flood just for a one night stand ," he mimicked her words. "Look, if you're not picking up chicks at bars then you're not doing the Navy right," he said, trying to suppress a grin.
"Oh? So I should be picking up chicks? Maybe that's why I'm not getting promoted–not playing the game the right way," she mused. The drinks had gone to her head and while she realized there was a kernel of truth to the Old Boy's Club theory, it was mostly a joke, and she giggled as Dutchy's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the idea that she should be out picking up women.
"You know that's not what I meant." He protested but laughed with her. Her laughter seemed to draw him closer, like a moth to a flame. He was so close, suddenly.
He stepped back as someone came running past them into the hotel, dripping wet, and then shook their useless umbrella onto the lobby floor. The front desk staff came over to assist the guest and took a moment to lean toward Kate and Dutchy. "If you need a room we still have a vacancy." The offer was genuine–the staff clearly saw a potential sale lurking in their inability to say goodnight to each other.
"We already have a room, actually." Kate stood up straighter and smoothed down her dress. Then she looked at Dutchy expectantly. He pulled his hotel key from his pocket in one smooth move, dangling it in front of him.
The front desk person gave them a look implying they should be in the room, then, and not in the foyer.
Kate snatched the key from Dutchy and headed toward the elevators at the rear of the lobby.
"Hey!" He strode after her, grabbing for the key but she kept it from him.
She stopped in front of the elevator, Dutchy at her side and laughing.
"Well?" She asked.
"What?" He looked at her as if he truly didn't know what she was asking.
"Floor number? Room number?" She pressed the up arrow.
"You want to stay in the hotel? The hotel that is an irresponsible decision? When you have a perfectly good cabin waiting for you just a few miles away?" He grinned at her, giving her shit for her earlier comment.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside and pushed the floor number. She was flirting and she knew she shouldn't be. She only hesitated for a split second and then she stepped into the elevator before the doors closed.
"Only because it's raining!" She informed him, loudly, hoping that she was correct–she was only following him to his hotel room because the weather was bad. She'd slept in all sorts of bizarre places with crewmates before so this wasn't out of line.
The night had been exactly what she needed; Dutchy had known exactly what she needed. She smiled at him and held the hotel key up in front of his face, teasing him. She was too slow, though, and he snatched the key from her fingers and slipped it into his pocket in one quick movement.
She laughed at his smug expression and then suppressed a yawn. It was a good thing she was heading to his hotel room because she was suddenly exhausted. He noticed and yawned himself, trying to cover it with the back of his hand. She refused to examine the situation, instead leaning into her tiredness–this was a necessity. She was simply too tired to make it back to the ship tonight and what luck that she didn't have to–her shipmate had a hotel room.
The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the quiet hallway, waiting for him to lead the way. It was only as he stepped out of the elevator in front of her, his hand ghosting across her lower back as he passed her, that she realized what she was doing.
"Oh, Kate." She was disappointed that she'd lied to herself. She wasn't just tired. She wasn't doing this because she was mad at Mike. This was all about Dutchy and the chemistry that had existed between them for months.
He heard her voice and turned to look over his shoulder at her, eyebrows raised in a silent question.
"Nothing." She shook her head at him.
He turned back and then fumbled in his pocket for the room key before scanning it and holding the door open for her. She went willingly, the voice in her head asking "what are you doing?" with every footstep she took.
"Dutchy," she turned to him once the door was closed behind them. "I'm only here because it's raining…" Her gaze fell to the king size bed and she lost her train of thought. "And because this bed looks amazing," she said with awe, distracted from the speech she meant to give him about not having expectations.
He closed the space between them and his hands skimmed up her bare arms to her shoulders. She tore her gaze from the sea of white linens to meet his eye.
"You're drunk," she told him.
"Yeah, but just a little bit," he replied. His hand wrapped gently around the back of her neck, his other hand stayed on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing the skin over her collarbone. "You?" He asked, his eyes seemed to be unfocused, suddenly.
"Same. Just a little bit," she whispered. The intensity of his gaze silenced her.
She felt his fingers thread through her hair and she knew her own eyes had just become as unfocused as his. She reached for him, grabbing the open collar of his shirt and slowly pulled him closer.
Then he was leaning down, into her space, and his mouth was on hers. In a moment of clarity, Kate realized this was what she'd wanted for months. A voice in the back of her mind reminded her that this couldn't be real–if this was real then she was jeopardizing her career for a man who'd be happy with any chick from the bar. But then his lips were moving against hers as his hands held her close. Her own hands had begun to unbutton his shirt, feeling his warm skin underneath her fingers as she moved to the next button.
"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this? Wanted you?" He kissed her jaw as he spoke. His voice was low and his breath was hot on her neck.
It was a rhetorical question, she knew. Which was good, because no matter what the answer was, it was going to be inappropriate. She was his superior officer–he shouldn't spend any time wanting her.
He brought his lips back to hers and she melted into his kiss. The chain of command, Mike, and worries about her promotion flew out of her head as Dutchy's hands slowly worked their way down her sides and started pulling up her dress.
"Yeah?" He murmured the question against her lips. His hands had found the hem of the flowy fabric and he was seeking permission.
He was pressed in close against her and it felt so good–his attention was making her forget about the promotion list and how her name wasn't on it. But his voice reminded her of how wrong this was.
"Dutchy," she murmured his name against his lips and then reached for his hands, stilling them. "We can't."
He rested his forehead against hers and nodded.
"We're on the same ship," she reminded him.
He nodded again and she saw that his eyes were closed.
His body was familiar from the time they'd spent together on the ship but she had never been allowed to touch him before. Her hands slid over his shoulders and his biceps and then she dropped her hands and stepped away from him.
The next morning she woke up in the hotel bed wearing the black button down he'd had on last night. The sheets and doona had been kicked to the floor. For a moment she thought something had happened between them and her heart beat a panicked rhythm against her ribs.
Then the bathroom door opened and Dutchy grinned around his toothbrush at her. He leaned in the bathroom doorway, wearing only his jeans, and she blushed as he stared warmly at her body and slowly brushed his teeth.
She grinned despite herself, happy to see that he was still able to smile at her after the way things had ended last night. She sat up slowly and groaned as her feet hit the carpet. Her head was going to ache all day–she'd had just enough to drink to feel slightly ill.
"Okay?" He frowned at her, concerned.
"Turn on the kettle. I'll feel better once I get some caffeine in me."
He did as she asked, crossing the room to flip on the kettle. He was grinning as he returned to the bathroom.
"What? What are you smiling at?" She demanded. She reached for her hair to make sure it wasn't in wild disarray and then stood and moved into the bathroom, pushing him aside with her hip to get room at the sink. A mirror ran the length of the vanity and Dutchy's eyes got stuck staring at her reflection. Kate decided to ignore him and leaned down to splash water on her face. Her eye makeup had smudged and she'd slept with her foundation on–it wasn't a good look.
"You're beautiful in the morning. I always wondered what you'd look like." He wasn't going to let her ignore him. Kate hadn't decided yet how to proceed. She was waking up hungover in a hotel room with Dutchy–she could forgive herself for drinking too much: she'd stick to one glass of wine only the next few times she went out and then get over it. Dutchy, though–she didn't see a way that she could forgive herself for stepping this far out of line.
"You are so full of shit." She rolled her eyes at him.
"I forgot how grumpy you are in the morning, though." He chuckled. "Throwing your weight around even on shore…"
"I'm not!" She protested. Every word that passed between felt flirtatious and she bit her tongue, aware that she was only making things harder between them the more she engaged.
The kettle clicked off and she suppressed the urge to tell him to fix her a cup of tea. He raised an eyebrow, smirking at her, and she got the impression he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"I'm taking a shower," she muttered.
"Want company?" He wasn't making it easy for her to forget their kiss last night. He leaned in the doorway of the bathroom and raised an eyebrow suggestively. It would have been so easy to say 'yes,' but the alcohol had left her system and she no longer had the romantic patter of the rain on the window to mask her wrongdoing.
"That's not a good idea." She had made out with him. She had slept in the same bed as him. She was wearing his shirt as a nightdress. She had already gone too far. "Look, Dutchy, this can't happen again."
His face registered the rejection briefly and she almost reached out to him but then he grinned and turned his attention to the kettle. "No worries." His voice was strong and clear and she had no choice but to accept his charade. He wanted her–he'd admitted as much last night–but she could never be his.
When she emerged from the shower, feeling human again, he had a mug waiting for her. He'd gotten dressed and tidied up the room, packing his things into his overnight bag. He'd draped her dress across the back of a chair and found her shoes for her.
She took the mug and her dress into the bathroom, trying to comb her hair with her fingers and make herself look presentable. She was lost in thought, wondering how to show up at the ship in the same dress her crew had seen her wearing last night, when Dutchy appeared behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her neck. For a moment, she forgot herself and leaned into his embrace, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of him, feeling the warmth of his solid chest against her back. Then she remembered who she was and where she was.
"Dutchy," she sighed his name and gently pushed him away.
"Right," he murmured, stepping away. "Sorry."
Kate wondered if he was going to cause trouble. They'd had a taste of the chemistry between them and now they had to forget it existed. She changed into her dress and then carried her mug out to the balcony where Dutchy was leaning against the railing, staring out at the ocean view.
Dutchy spoke first. "You said last night that you were transferring off the ship. I guess I thought…"
"You wanted to make me feel better after the shitty day I had. And you did," she reassured him. "You made me forget about the promotions list and how bad I've felt about my career lately. You made me feel…" She trailed off. "That's not the point." Kate forced herself to focus and kept her voice firm.
"You said you were looking for bigger and better opportunities ," Dutchy said, using her words from last night, his voice hollow.
"Dutchy." She took his hand in hers. "Yes, I said I was looking for…for something I couldn't find on the Hammersley , but you're on the Hammersley ."
His expression shifted from confused to hurt. He pulled his hand from her grasp.
She clutched her mug of tea and stared at him. He'd shown her more affection and attention in one short night than Mike had in all of their stolen moments over the years. It felt unfair that she needed to push him away.
"Remember what you said last night? That this was a hotel room meant for a one night stand?" She reminded him.
"It was . But you're not a one night stand." He sounded so sure of it–so sure that there could be something between them. Then he downed the rest of his coffee and turned away from her, heading into the room. "Do you want to leave first or should I?" He asked, not turning to look at her.
Kate sighed. It was going to be a very long day.
"Hey. We'll find him." Dutchy leaned in close, hovering next to her. She was in the captain's chair because the captain himself hadn't turned up this morning. The voicemail Mike had left her last night mentioned nefarious parties and held a sense of urgency. Mike had sounded excited in a way she knew meant he sensed danger ahead. Now he was missing and she was left hating herself for not answering his call.
She turned to face Dutchy, her fingers wrapping tightly around the binoculars hanging from her neck to keep from reaching out and touching him. She longed for the comfort of his touch and the optimism she had felt last night that she could leave the confusion of Mike behind.
She slid her gaze away from Dutchy, turning her focus to the task at hand. The crew was counting on her, the Navy was counting on her, and Mike was counting on her.
"This is my fault," she murmured, voice low to keep the crew from overhearing.
"It's no one's fault." Dutchy's voice matched her own whisper.
"I deliberately dropped his call last night."
Dutchy had nothing to say to that. There was a very long answer for why she hadn't answered Mike's call last night, and the bridge was not the place to begin trying to explain it to him. Kate kept her eyes on the horizon and her mouth shut. Thankfully, Robert appeared behind them, interrupting their hushed conversation.
Dutchy stepped away from her, putting space between them, and Kate had a brief moment of thanks that he seemed to have no intention of bringing whatever they had shared onto the ship. Then she took a deep breath in and then exhaled all extraneous thoughts. This moment was now about tracking down Mike. This day would not end until she had successfully recovered Mike Flynn–alive.
She called out orders to Charge, RO, Dutchy. She fielded calls from Commander White. She made herself forget that the reason Mike had disappeared in the first place was because she was getting drunk with the crew and making out with Dutchy in a hotel room.
Only later, when she had a moment of breathing room to sit in her own cabin and collect her thoughts, did she remember how last night had led her to the conclusion that Mike was the thing complicating her life. He was safe and sound now, back on the boat. Dutchy was tip-toeing around her, doing his best to keep his distance–whether for her sake or his, she didn't know.
Her night out had given her clarity: she needed to transfer. She couldn't stand to be on the same ship with either Mike or Dutchy. For different reasons, both men complicated her life at a time when she needed to be solely focused on chasing the promotion she knew she deserved. She wanted less from Mike; she wanted to be over him and that was only going to happen with distance. She wanted more from Dutchy–which she couldn't have until she was no longer his supervising officer. Things had indeed gotten complicated.
Kate sighed as she heard Robert's voice calling her back to the bridge. It seemed there would be no time in the foreseeable future to sort out her life. She left the peace of her cabin and headed for the bridge, where she would encounter Mike and Dutchy and the uncertainty of her career all at once.