Chapter Thirteen
'The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth'
 

Kristin stood just inside the doorway of the treatment room. That's as far as she'd been allowed. Leaning back against the wall, arms wrapped about herself, she felt suddenly very, very tired. And scared. She moved a bit more to one side, hoping to get a better view of what the doctors were doing. She was able to catch only glimpses of Nathan as she peered past the light blue or white outfits the medical personnel wore. His shirt had been removed and tossed unceremoniously to the floor off to one side of the exam table. She glanced at it again as it caught the corner of her eye. A wad of white and red. Lots of red. His shoes, socks and belt also lay there. Her distraught gaze returned to the group around Bridger. She watched as two of the doctors spoke briefly — a young woman with blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, who couldn't have been a year out of medical school, and an older man with glasses and graying hair. After a few moments of animated conversation the woman nodded and turned away to converse with two nurses. The male doctor she'd been speaking with turned back to the exam table for a brief period, then glanced across the room at Kristin. He spoke a few words to the intern who was keeping an eye on vitals before rounding the table and heading in her direction. He stopped a couple of feet in front of her, his critical gaze sizing her up even as he answered her unspoken question.

"It looks a lot worse than it is," he reassured her, a half-smile curling his lips as he extended a hand. "I'm Sid Greenbaum, by the way," he continued as he gave Kristin's hand a quick squeeze. "And I've known Nathan for a lot of years... so I wouldn't try to pull any punches with you."

Kristin gave an almost imperceptible nod, watching as Greenbaum crossed his arms over his chest and continued to look at her.

"He'll be alright then..."

The doctor nodded, his eyes appraising her physical condition even as he spoke.

"He's lost quite a bit of blood... but with the transfusion he was given on the way over here and what we're getting into him now that won't be a major factor. As far as the bullet goes... it didn't do a hell of a lot of damage. It just landed in an area..." he indicated a spot beneath his own left collarbone somewhere between the breastbone and shoulder, "...that makes the injury extremely painful. It also appears from the x-rays that there's a very good chance the bullet actually nicked the collarbone, creating a hairline fracture." Greenbaum turned his head and followed Kristin's gaze to the exam table. "We're prepping him for surgery now. Shouldn't last more than an hour and a half... two hours. Depends on how much blood vessel damage there is." He turned back to Kristin, who was still watching the bustle going on around Nathan.

"Can I see him?"

"No."

Kristin's gaze snapped to the doctor at his rather brusque and abrupt refusal. He answered her question before she had an opportunity to voice it.

"Because..." the expression in his brown eyes was much milder than his voice had been, "...while he's being prepped I need to take a look at your head." The woman's only response to his words was a frown... which turned into a wince of pain as Greenbaum reached out and gingerly probed the lump on her forehead. It was quite apparent she'd forgotten all about her own bumps and bruises.

"I'm alright," Kristin demurred, even as Greenbaum pushed open the double doors and ushered her out of the room.

"I'll be the judge of that if you don't mind," he informed her as he laid a hand on her shoulder and escorted her in the direction of the adjacent treatment room. Kristin risked a backwards glance. The double doors had already swung shut behind them, cutting off her view of Nathan. As she swung her gaze back around she heard someone call her name. Glancing back to one side she intercepted the anxious gazes of several people occupying the nearby waiting room... as well as that of the young man who pushed past them and moved hurriedly in her direction.

"Lucas..."

A moment later his arms were around her. Kristin's own arms went convulsively around his shoulders, pulling him close in an excruciating hug as she buried her face against his neck and once again allowed the tears to fall.

Tom McGath's eyes shifted to encompass Bill Noyce as the two men wandered down the hospital corridor. He opened his mouth once. Nothing came out so he closed it and looked away. After a few seconds his gaze found Noyce again.

"I've changed my mind..." he murmured.

"What?" Noyce muttered back, not really listening. He'd grown tired of listening. McGath could talk and talk and talk... and never really say anything of any substance.

"I resign."

"What?" Noyce muttered again. That got his attention.

"I... resign..." McGath actually leaned toward Noyce this time as their steps continued to carry them along the corridor. "I don't want the job. You keep it."

Noyce's eyebrows rose and his eyes bulged.

"Oh no... forget it! You can't resign. You've been elected. So..." he tried to think of something further to say, something at least somewhat articulate, but couldn't. "So... there!" he finished rather lamely.

Scott Keller rolled his eyes as their conversation drifted past him. He stood in front of a refreshment machine and watched as a packaged cup of hot coffee hurtled down the chute and plopped into the receptacle provided for it to plop into. He fished the cup out, ripped the cover off, then winced at the acrid taste of its contents. After giving brief consideration to just tossing the remainder in the trash, he changed his mind and went back to rejoin Manilow Crocker, Jonathan Ford and Ben Krieg in the waiting room. He arrived just in time to be brushed aside by Lucas as the boy spied Kristin in the corridor and took off in her direction. Keller watched the reunion, at once saddened, yet happy. And even a little bit jealous. Saddened by the events of the past three days and the toll they'd taken on the people involved... and would continue to take. Happy that the situation was over and done with. Jealous because there had been no one into whose arms and heart he'd been welcomed at the conclusion of the crisis. Scott rested his tired body against one wall of the waiting room, sipping his scalding coffee and watching as Lucas pulled away from Kristin after giving her one final hug, then draped his arm across her shoulder and pulled her close as they both followed the doctor into a treatment room. He shook his head, amazed at himself. He was jealous alright... jealous of Nathan. You're one lucky SOB, Nathan Bridger, he whispered to himself, a small smile twisting his lips. And God help you if you don't realize it.

Ben Krieg stared at his rather pathetic excuse for a sandwich — something else that had dropped out of the so-called refreshment machine in the alcove at the other end of the hall. It passed for food. That's about all he could say about it. But not very good food. He took another bite, then with a disgusted sigh wrapped what was left in the cellophane it had come in and laid it aside. He was hungry... but he wasn't desperate. So, instead of eating, he stood up and stretched. After a few minutes, deciding he need some fresh air, he wandered out of the waiting room and toward a nearby set of doors. They automatically opened, allowing a brisk breeze to slap at his face. Ben just stood there, half inside and half outside the hospital doors, enjoying the night air. It sure felt good. So good in fact that it took a few moments for him to notice the slight commotion further along the hallway. Not really a commotion. Just more noise than there had been before. When he finally stepped back fully inside and allowed the doors to close, he looked up to find a vision standing before him. A vision in the form of his ex-wife.

"Katie?" There was a slightly incredulous inflection to his voice.

Hitchcock just stood there looking at him. Finally she folded her arms in front of her and took on an ex-wifely stance, a considering gleam in her eyes.

"Benjamin Krieg... can you ever stay out of trouble?"

Ben smiled. A real smile. Not a smirk.

"Nice to see you, too, Katie."

Seconds later he decided that not only was it nice to see her... it was doubly nice to feel her arms around him, her body pressed close to his. Her warmth and nearness eased his mind... and allowed it to dwell on something other than the last few hours. The last few days.

Manilow Crocker stared at the screen, his grimace becoming fiercer with each word of Jerome Bennett's speech as it was replayed by ENN, shaking his head as the man reiterated again and again his feelings of remorse and attempted to explain away his conduct of eighteen years previously. Crocker muttered something rude beneath his breath and tore his gaze away from the monitor. He suddenly wished all hospital waiting rooms would do away with the vid-screens they seemed to cram into every available corner. Sighing, Crocker raised his gaze, only to find himself staring not into a vid-screen, but into Kristin Westphalen's somber brown gaze as she eased herself onto the small sofa which sat at an angle to his chair. Lucas Wolenczak, carrying two steaming cups of some beverage or another, sat down next to her.

"Bastard."

"Chief--"

Bill Noyce's cautionary tone irritated Crocker even further. Noyce had finally eluded Thomas McGath and was in no mood to listen to any more grumblings from anyone.

"Hey, I didn't vote for him," Crocker grumbled, casting a sideways glance at the UEO's chief honcho as he expressed his displeasure. "Just calling him as I see him."

"I know--"

"Nah..." Crocker snorted, slumping back in his seat next to Kristin, arms folded across his beefy chest, "...you don't know. It's just the same thing all over again. The man's getting away with murder... plain and simple. And its not just those people on that island. It goes a hell of a lot deeper than that."

Noyce frowned, his eyes following a couple of nurses and a doctor as they strolled past the waiting room. When he was sure they were out of earshot he turned his attention back to Crocker.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his tone very obviously making light of what he figured was just the other man's way of letting off some steam, yet indicating a curiosity he couldn't contain.

Crocker sighed, his gaze resting on Noyce for a moment before traveling around the room to encompass everyone there. Scott Keller, Jonathan Ford, Ben Krieg. Tim O'Neill, William Shan and Miguel Ortiz, who'd shown up within just the last ten minutes. Katie Hitchcock. Lucas. Kristin. He contemplated Westphalen for a long moment before deciding to answer Bill Noyce's question. When he did finally speak, though, it was to Westphalen and not the Secretary General.

"Earlier... you asked me to tell you what happened."

Kristin gave a slight nod, almost imperceptible to Crocker and the others, as she accepted the styrofoam cup filled with coffee that Lucas handed her. Even that slight movement caused the throbbing in her head to increase. She winced, hoping the pain medication she'd been given would decide to kick in soon.

"You said you couldn't..." she murmured, her gaze glued to Crocker's, "...that Nathan was the only one who could do that."

Crocker sighed, the air whistling through his teeth as he seemed to settle even further back into his seat. His eyes came to a rest on the wall opposite him for a few moments before sliding back to the vid-screen. He watched, as did the others, as Jerome Bennett continued his prattling. Crocker's gaze remained on the screen as he began to speak, though it appeared that what he was seeing in his mind's eye had nothing to do with what was on the monitor. Was instead on something that had happened many years previously. He shook his head slowly.

"Man... you talk about a flash from the past." A rueful smile indented his cheeks. "Seems like a lifetime ago."

"Yeah . . . well . . . for some of us around here it was," Lucas interjected softly, with a small grin. His comment elicited a few smiles.

"This old world was really going to hell in a handbasket back then." Crocker paused thoughtfully. "Not that it isn't right now. But things were really bad. So bad that you didn't know from one day to the next whether the folks firing on you were your enemies or your friends."

He was silent for a while as memories thought long ago laid to rest resurfaced. Those around him waited, some wondering whether he planned to continue, some not quite certain they wanted to hear the words he might say to them, some eager to put some kind of sense to the past few days.

"We'd heard through the grapevine that the United Nations had authorized its fleet to the Azores. Nobody knew what for. Not at the beginning anyway. Later... after we'd been ordered in... we were told that some sort of counter-revolutionary group had taken over the naval base at Ponta Delgada... that they'd rounded up all the personnel and their families, along with anybody else unlucky enough to be in the vicinity at the time, and were holding 'em hostage. I never heard anything about any demands being made. The Captain..." Crocker shifted a little and rested his hands on the beaten metal arms of his chair as he continued in his soft drawl, "...Captain McClure... might have known more about what was going on, I don't know. Sometimes..." he sighed, "...sometimes when you were sent into a situation like that they'd tell ya what was going on and sometimes... well... sometimes you just followed orders without asking. It's always been that way and I guess it always will be. I don't know which way is worse... or better.

"Anyway... the UN fleet blockaded San Miguel..." he glanced up at the intent faces surrounding him, "...cordoned off Ponta Delgada and the naval facility. But that didn't work worth a hill of beans so they pulled out and we were sent in... along with the Hercules and the Lancer. And then we sat there... and we waited." He shook his head, a sour expression crossing his face. "And we waited... and we waited. For ten long days we waited. And then..." Crocker swallowed hard, his gaze becoming unfocused as he stared unseeingly at the wall, "...then all hell broke loose."

A long silence ensued. Manilow Crocker continued to stare at the wall, replaying in his mind the events of that day... and the days which had followed... so many years ago. The expressions on the faces of those around him varied, as did their emotions. No one spoke a word as they waited for Crocker to continue.

"I don't know who started it..." he finally murmured. "Could've been the people on the island... could've been the fleet. Guess it doesn't really matter one way or the other. Not any more, anyway." Crocker sighed a deep sigh. "The Hercules..." he bit his lip and slowly shook his head, still gazing blankly at nothing in particular as he softly continued, "...we were on the horn with her when she was hit..." He swallowed past a thick obstruction in this throat. "You could hear her hull being ripped apart... sort of a whining, grating... groaning sound. Nobody had to see her to know she'd come apart... but everybody knew it. Just like we all knew there were people aboard her... people most of us knew... fellow sailors. They were alive... and this ship was being torn apart... and you could hear their screams..." He licked his lips and swallowed again. "And you could hear the water rushing in and then..." he shook his head again, "...and then nothing."

There was a long silence as those surrounding Crocker absorbed his words. Bill Noyce leaned forward in his chair. Resting his elbows on his knees he ran weary hands over his face, leaving them there for a few moments as he attempted to repress the images that Crocker's words evoked, before raising his head. Resting his chin on interlaced fingers, he stared at Manilow Crocker.

"Go on, Chief."

Crocker nodded.

"Well... after that things just seemed to go from bad to worse. I don't know how long it lasted. When you're involved in a situation like that... time doesn't really seem to matter. Sometimes hours can seem like days... sometimes its like time just stands still." Crocker sighed, a small frown puckering his forehead as he tried to get his thoughts together. "Admiral Bennett..." he sent another scathing glance toward the vid-screen, which still pictured the replayed broadcast of Jerome Bennett, expounding on his past sins and his present virtues. "Admiral Bennett brought part of the fleet back in. The Lancer was pulled back... I don't know why. I don't think anyone ever found out. We were ordered to maintain our position... which was about five miles from the coast... and to monitor for any underwater activity." Crocker gave a short bark of laughter. "Which there wasn't... and if Bennett had half a brain he would have known that. There wasn't a person on that island... other than the American naval personnel... with the ability to even comprehend how to man a sub. And they'd all been rounded up and confined. That much we knew. I guess he musta eventually realized it himself."

Jonathan Ford, sitting in a chair just inside the entrance to the waiting room, leaned forward, a puzzled look in his eyes. "I don't --" he began, coming up short at a motion from Bill Noyce.

"Let him continue..." he admonished, "...go on, Chief."

"Anway... we followed our orders. We maintained our position and laid low... and monitored everything between us and the coast. We knew nobody'd get in the back way, past the fleet. And like I said... there was nothing. Up top... the two sides just kept it up. I don't think either one was doing much damage. Those people on the island couldn't have really known what they were doing... and at that point the UN fleet wasn't authorized to do anything more than defend itself. They were just lobbing stuff at each other... trying to see who'd say 'uncle' first."

Crocker paused. A faraway look appeared in his eyes.

"And then... out of the blue..." he licked dry lips, "...we were hit. Didn't see it coming... it just..." He sighed and shrugged helplessly. "The first torpedo hit somewhere aft. The main engine rooms were flooded before we knew it. You could feel the boat going down... then leveling off a little. The second one seemed to just graze us at first... then some of the accessway bulkheads started to give. The third..." Crocker heaved a deep sigh and shook his head. "The third torpedo scored a direct hit on the missile access compartments." He paused and ran shaky fingers through his hair. "God almighty... I don't know about anyone else... but I made my peace with the Lord right then and there. I don't know how we managed not being blown to kingdom come on the spot... but we weren't. And I just took off runnin' for the bridge." Crocker looked down and patted his stomach. "I was a bit on the slimmer side back then..." he almost chuckled. "I got there faster than a flea hoppin' from one dog to another. Once I did..." he ran a hand over his eyes, "...I wished I hadn't."

Manilow Crocker leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his chin cupped in his hands, and stared at the floor. There was a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead. Lifting his eyes, he risked a glance at Kristin. He held her gaze as he continued, seeming to draw quiet strength from her as he ignored the others in the room.

"There were a couple of crewmen behind me... and we managed to get the hatch open. There wasn't much lighting... and what there was kept flickering on and off. And it was as quiet as a tomb... at least compared to the ruckus that'd been going on around us. Nobody said a word... nobody moved... they just seemed..." He shrugged. "I guess I sorta wondered what was goin' on..." he continued in a low voice, "...and I guess while I was standing there wondering ... I figured it out."

Crocker's thoughts seemed to turn inward.

"The Captain... Captain McClure... was laid out on the deck. It didn't take a genius to see he was dead. Something was sticking out of his chest... looked like some sorta t-bar... I don't know where it came from." Crocker momentarily closed his eyes, then opened them again. "I'd heard horror stories about people being impaled... I've never seen anything like that before or since. There was blood everywhere. On his shirt and pants... on his face... on the deck. The water... when we opened the hatch the water came through onto the bridge... the water was red with his blood. His eyes were open... just staring at the overhead. I wanted to throw up..." his jaw tightened and he appeared sick at the thought of what had happened, "...I just wanted to throw up. And I wanted to cry. And I think the Cap did, too..." Crocker ran a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, "...Captain Bridger I mean... only he was First Officer back then."

Crocker was quiet for a while, as were the others. Eventually he continued.

"I guess we finally got back to business... we were all but done for. All we could do was look for a place to lay low for a while... try to make repairs if we could. It was gonna be one hell of a job." Crocker shook his head. "The first two torpedoes had done their damage without sticking around. That third one..." he shrugged, "... there were still bits and pieces of it left behind. One of the missile access compartments was completely flooded. The only thing standing between us and the deep blue sea was a single, solitary access hatch. That's a second miracle... that it actually held until we made it to port. The other three compartments were pretty well messed up. If anyone on the cleanup crew had made a wrong move... dropped something... brushed against something... me and the Cap and a bunch of other guys wouldn't be here today."

"But you made it back," Kristin murmured.

Crocker nodded.

"Yeah... we made it back. Surprised the hell out of a lot of people when we showed up... but we made it back. The nearest port... other than Ponta Delgada, where we obviously weren't welcome in the first place... was more than seven hundred miles away over some pretty rough terrain. In the very best of circumstances we would've made it in about thirty-six hours. As it was... it took us eleven days." He chewed his lip and stared at the floor. "Eleven days of hell."

Manilow Crocker raised his eyes, homing in on the younger members of the group.

"We were able to get enough repairs made to keep off the bottom... and that was about it. Then we crawled home. And I mean crawled. It wasn't an experience I'd wish on my worse enemy." He thought for moment. "We had fourteen dead... including Captain McClure. In a similar situation... if we hadn't lost most of our primary controls... their bodies would've been jettisoned. As things were... that would've been a wee bit difficult. And back then... well... those were the days before there were morgues on subs. Which was still okay... we had the refrigerator units in the galley." Crocker raised his eyebrows. "Unfortunately, we had just about enough power to move the boat forward at a few feet a second... and not to charge the galley. So..." he scratched his head and leaned forward again, "...they were put in body bags and moved to one of the torpedo bays. Of course... our ventilation system being what it was... it really wouldn't have mattered where they were. After a few days..." Crocker grimaced, "...well... let's just say the odor of decaying bodies isn't all that attractive."

His gaze took in his younger former shipmates.

Jonathan Ford appeared subdued, with a stoic expression on his dark face, but his brown eyes were filled with compassion.

Ben Krieg had turned an amazing shade of green.

Katie Hitchcock's jaw was clenched and there was a sheen of tears in her eyes.

William Shan sat with his head bowed.

Miguel Ortiz sat forward, his hands clasped between his knees, staring at the floor.

Tim O'Neill was sitting back in his chair, arms crossed, his thoughts seemingly miles away.

"Chief..."

Crocker looked at Lucas as the young man spoke.

"If you were... well..." he shrugged and ran a hand through dirty blond hair that desperately needed a cut, "...you know..." Lucas was finding it difficult to put his question into words. "How could they say you attacked the island? How could they say you bombed the hospitals and schools?"

Scott Keller pushed himself away from the wall, shoving his hands into his pants pockets as he took a step forward.

"Yeah, Chief..." he continued where Lucas left off, "...this Smith guy said the Intrepid disappeared... then reappeared after two days and began an assault on the island. How's that possible?"

Crocker gave him a measured stare and allowed the silence to lengthen before he answered.

"You tell me, Major."

Keller just stared at him. Bill Noyce, on the other hand, slowly raised his head, a dawning suspicion darkening his eyes.

"You're not implying..." He seemed unable to continue.

"If it wasn't the Intrepid..." Katie Hitchcock murmured, "...then it had to be someone else."

Manilow Crocker sighed. He was tired. And he knew everyone else had to be. But there were things that had to be said. That needed to be said.

"Yeah, it was someone else. And that someone else was not only responsible for the final attack on Ponta Delgada..." he ran a hand over his forehead and leaned back in his chair, all his energy seeming to leave his body, "...but for the attack on the Intrepid... and I'll bet my very life... for sinking the Hercules.

"You can't be serious," Bill Noyce finally got out.

Crocker looked at him and sighed.

"Mr. Secretary... " he began wearily and a bit sarcastically, "...you know military weaponry as well as I do... past and present. And you're just as well acquainted with subs the class of the Intrepid." His gaze locked with that of Noyce. "You know... you might not want to admit it, but you know... that there wasn't a country on earth that had weaponry advanced enough to penetrate the hulls of those boats. Not a single country... except ours." He let that sink in before he continued. "And the majority of that UN fleet was made up of American warships — with that weaponry."

There was a lengthy silence.

"You're talking friendly fire," Jonathan Ford finally offered.

"There wasn't a damn thing friendly about it," Crocker responded.

"Chief --"

Crocker gave an agitated shake of his head.

"I understand what you're saying... it probably began that way. I hope to God it began that way. But that's not how it ended."

"You're saying that Admiral Bennett... sank the Hercules," William Shan murmured.

"I'm saying that somehow... and I don't pretend to know how... the Hercules was sunk by Bennett's fleet. Accidentally... but still sunk by the fleet."

"And the Intrepid?" Tim O'Neill chimed in. "Was that an accident, too?"

Crocker shrugged. "Maybe."

"And the attack on the island?" Miguel Ortiz asked.

"Was no accident," Crocker answered.

Bill Noyce abruptly stood, shoved his hands into his pockets, paced to the far end of the room, then moved back to stand in front of Crocker.

"What you're trying to say..." he offered, his eyes steely as they bored into the other man "...is that the final attack on Ponta Delgada was done purposely..."

"...as a cover-up."

Noyce ran his hands over the top of his head and down the back of his neck.

"You've no proof of that... absolutely no proof."

"Raise the Hercules."

Noyce glanced at Crocker in surprise.

"Say that again."

"I said... raise the Hercules. She's sitting down there... in about two thousand feet of water, ripe for the picking. Ever wonder why it hasn't been done already?"

"The site was made into a memorial."

"To what? Stupidity?"

"Chief!"

Manilow Crocker got to his feet and stood toe to toe with the Secretary General of the UEO.

"I'll tell you why it hasn't been done..." he drawled. "It hasn't been done because it'll prove I'm right. That what I put in my report eighteen years ago... what Captain Bridger put in his report eighteen years ago... was God's honest truth."

"I've taken a look at those reports, Chief..." Noyce frowned, "...and they contain no allegations even closely resembling that."

Crocker just raised his eyebrows sarcastically. After a few long moments Bill Noyce stepped back. He crossed to the window and stood there for a minute or two, staring through the blinds into an eastern sky which was ever so slowly beginning to lighten. Finally he spoke, without turning around.

"The proof you're talking about... if you know what you're talking about... could just as easily come from the Intrepid. Isn't she in dry dock at the old shipyards?"

"Some of her is." He waited until Noyce shot him a questioning glance before he continued. "First time I saw her... afterwards..." he shook his head sadly, "...I barely recognized her. She looked like she'd been salvaged. Midships had been torn apart . . . any evidence of where the torpedoes had hit was gone... or mostly gone. I asked around a little bit..." he gave a sarcastic grunt, "...was told it'd been done to further the investigation. Forensic evidence they called it." Crocker frowned. "You explain to me how scrap metal could tell a better story than what she'd be able to tell in one piece. It was all just a bunch of lies..."

Noyce didn't say anything. Crocker could see the reflection of the other man's face in the window he still stared out of. There was a frown on that face. Finally Noyce spoke.

"You're not just talking cover-up here, Chief." Noyce turned to face the others. "You're talking conspiracy."

Crocker nodded.

"Now you're beginning to get the picture."

The two men exchanged stares. Eventually a bit of a smile began to play around Bill Noyce's lips. He nodded.

"Fine."

Manilow Crocker cocked his head to the side and struck a questioning pose.

"Fine..." Noyce repeated softly, "...I'll see what I can do about raising her."

His words took a moment or two to sink in. When they did, Manilow Crocker grinned and held out his hand. Bill Noyce accepted it with a firm shake.

"You know..." Crocker said, indentations almost like dimples appearing in his cheeks as his grin widened, "...I'm beginning to think that maybe the Cap was right."

Noyce raised a curious eyebrow.

"You really haven't become such a stuffed shirt after all."

Noyce stopped shaking Crocker's hand for just a few seconds and just stared at him instead. Then he began to chuckle softly and slapped the other man on the shoulder.

Nathan Bridger opened his eyes a crack. Just a very small crack. Though he tried his darnedest to open them further, he quickly found that was as far as they'd go. Fortunately for him... it was far enough. Far enough to allow him to see the woman sitting next to him. She looked very uncomfortable. But considering the chair she'd been given he could understand why. It was straight-backed and had no arms for her to rest against. Instead she was leaning forward, her head pillowed on her arms where they rested on the side of the bed he was occupying. She was wearing different clothing than she had been earlier... whenever that was... and he could smell the sweet aromas of shampoo and powder. She'd had a shower. The telltale signs were the still damp curls spread across her shoulders. A few tresses splayed across his left hand. Nathan wiggled his fingers experimentally. He felt a dull throb radiate through his arm and into his shoulder... but apart from that he was surprised to find that he didn't feel too badly at all. He gingerly shifted his arm and tried to lift it. That didn't work. So instead he lifted his right arm... along with the needle and iv line which was stuck into it... and reached across his body to softly stroke Kristin's hair away from her face. He was staring somewhat groggily at the bump and scrapes on her forehead when she opened her eyes, her sleepy brown gaze unerringly meeting his.

"Hey guy..." she murmured blearily, lifting her head and rubbing tiredly at her eyes.

"Hi yourself," he whispered, eyeing her as critically as he could considering the half-awake state he was in. His fingers played softly over her cheek and temple before his hand dropped to his chest. Then he merely gazed at her... just happy to know she was beside him. Happy to know she was okay. Happy to know that some of those regrets he'd agonized over earlier didn't have to be.

"I love you," he said softly.

Kristin's hand covered his, linking their fingers as she stared back at him. She chewed at her bottom lip, looking like there was something she wanted to say but couldn't, then dropped her eyes to their linked hands.

"'smatter?"

Kristin gave a little shrug and blinked rapidly a few times, still without looking at him. She was trying to hide it, but Nathan could see she'd been crying. Her flushed cheeks, and the way she avoided his eyes, gave her away every time. He gave her hand a squeeze. She lifted her gaze to his... eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispered at last in a choked voice.

"For what?" Nathan whispered, puzzled. His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand.

"For..." Kristin wiped at her cheeks and sniffled. "For — ...for what Patr —" she brought her other hand up to encompass his in both of hers, then leaned her forehead against their entwined fingers, "...for what he did..." she finished in a voice thick with tears.

"It wasn't your fault..." his hand broke from hers and his fingers went to her lips as she began to say something, "...none of it was your fault." He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Whatever his reasons for doing what he did..." Nathan shrugged his good shoulder against the pillows, "...your presence didn't make a difference. He would have done what he did... regardless. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time... and things got a little convoluted." He reached up and brushed tousled curls from her forehead, his blue eyes smiling at her. "Okay?"

Kristin's eyes searched his for a moment before she finally gave a hesitant nod.

"I... want to tell you about him," she whispered, her fingers going around his left hand where it lay against the sheets. She lowered her eyes. "I need to tell you about him."

"Later," Nathan responded softly. He reached across and tangled his fingers in her hair, the soft auburn tresses like silk against his skin. "C'mere."

He used what little strength he seemed to have and gave a slight tug, pulling Kristin toward him. She stood and leaned over him, his hand still tangled in her hair as their lips met. What began as a hesitant exploration quickly escalated into a passionate trek into territory left abandoned for far too long. When they finally broke apart, Nathan stared into Kristin's eyes and was struck by how much he'd missed her over the past month. He hadn't known it was possible to miss someone so much. Her hand lifted to caress his face... her fingers fluttering over the dark bruises on his right cheekbone and around his eye before dropping to his mouth. His bottom lip was still tender and throbbed painfully from the pressure of their kiss. But he didn't care.

"Marry me."

He thought for a moment she hadn't heard him. Then her dusky gaze sought his. It was filled with questions. And something else. Some other undefined emotion.

"You won't regret it," his continued softly, holding her gaze. "I promise." He waited for her to say something. Anything.

"There are some... things we have to talk about first," Kristin finally said.

Nathan nodded against his pillow.

"I know..." he murmured, his tiredness suddenly catching up with him again. "I'll try to stop working so hard... I won't spend so much time with the boat. I promise I won't take you for granted..." His voice trailed off as Kristin smiled and slowly shook her head.

"I'm afraid what we need to talk about goes a bit deeper than that..."

Nathan frowned.

"I don't understand."

Kristin's fingers trailed along the side of his face and through his hair.

"I know..." she whispered, "...its something else we can talk about later." She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss.

"Just say you'll marry me..." Nathan murmured, his eyelids drooping despite his best efforts to hold them open.

"Yes, I'll marry you..." Kristin softly told him, watching as sleep claimed him. She sat back down, suddenly feeling very tired herself. Her hand crept to the chain she wore around her neck. Pulling it from beneath her t-shirt, she fingered the Saint Christopher medallion which still hung there... and the Naval Academy ring which accompanied it.

Chapter Fourteen
'Making Peace With the Past'
 

Bill Noyce stared through the thick glass window of the holding cell, his blue gaze resting on the man who paced the small room. Every once in a while Aiden Montgomery lifted his eyes from their contemplation of the floor and tossed a glance in his direction. Coming to an abrupt decision, Noyce pushed open the door and stepped inside. He waited patiently as the other man paused in his attempt to wear a path through the grey carpeting which covered the floor and instead dropped into the chair behind the interrogation table. Montgomery's brown gaze was bland but curious.

"So... what happens to me now?" he asked, though the answer appeared obvious.

Noyce stood on the opposite side of the table, hands in the pockets of his khaki uniform trousers, his expression meditative. If he had to be honest with himself, which he usually had to be considering his position as Secretary General, he wasn't in any great hurry to make the decision which would answer the man's query. The other men who'd been captured along with Montgomery — those who hadn't been killed during the scuffle on the roof of the UEO facility or during the attempted helicopter escape — had been turned over to InterPol for trial. According to the international police organization, Patrick Smith's modus operandi matched at least two dozen similar incidents which had occurred during the previous twenty years. Though Smith was no longer alive to answer for his crimes, his hired accomplices were. They'd be treated to whatever adjudication was proper in the present case according to UEO governing policy, but InterPol would have jurisdiction over sentencing for the other alleged crimes, along with the courts of the countries in which they were committed. While UEO and InterPol convictions carried no death penalties — their sentences for such actions of terrorism ranged from life imprisonment to cryogenic detention — that was not the case with a number of the other involved nations and confederations. Whatever the outcome, the remaining terrorists would never again see the light of day.

And then there was Aiden Montgomery. Patrick Smith's right hand man.

Bill Noyce felt as though he were being pulled in two very separate directions. On the one hand, Montgomery was a terrorist. He'd been more than instrumental in what had transpired at UEO headquarters during the past week... and apparently in an untold number of other episodes just like it which had occurred around the world during the previous two decades. Two people had been killed during the siege which had just ended... the newswoman Gabrielle Storm and an elderly male hostage... though from what UEO security had been able to put together, Montgomery had neither been involved in those deaths nor had he authorized his men to commit the deeds. Unfortunately for him, he was more than guilty by association.

On the other hand... and it was a very big hand... Aiden Montgomery had saved Nathan Bridger's life. Or maybe spared was the better word. Once... and perhaps twice. Add to that the very real possibility that he'd delivered Kristin Westphalen from probable death at the hands of Patrick Smith — an obviously crazed Patrick Smith by that time — and it tended to blind Bill Noyce's judgment just a fraction. So much so that he was at odds with himself. Something which was apparent enough to have Montgomery peering at him with an extremely quizzical expression in his eyes. Noyce sighed out loud.

"At this point... I'm not entirely certain," he expelled, finally answering the other man's question. In a way. "That is... about what happens to you."

Aiden Montgomery was a restless spirit. Just the thought of spending the rest of his natural life behind bars, or worse, was something he couldn't comprehend. He knew it would be a fate worse than a death sentence. Bill Noyce knew it, too. He pulled out the chair opposite Montgomery and sat down, his blue eyes critical as they inspected the man on the other side of the table.

"I can give you your options."

Montgomery almost raised an eyebrow in surprise but somehow managed not to.

"I wasn't aware I had any."

Noyce smiled grimly. He leaned his forearms on the table and clasped his hands in front of him.

"Believe me... when you hear them you might not consider yourself lucky."

Montgomery returned the smile with his eyes, the rest of his face expressionless.

"Try me."

Bill nodded.

"Okay." He raised his right hand and held up his index finger. "Option one... I can turn you over to InterPol to be tried along with the rest of your men."

"Which would mean no less than a life sentence in some godforsaken prison..."

"...or cryogenic detention," Noyce finished. "Or quite possibly -- and I wouldn't take bets on it one way or the other -- a sentence of death by another court. While the UEO and InterPol eliminated that course of action some years ago, it hasn't been universally abandoned."

It was Montgomery's turn to nod.

"My second option?"

"Option two..." Noyce extended a second finger, "...I can delegate your case to UEO jurisdiction. In which case you will be spending the rest of your life in some godforsaken prison at the ends of the earth."

Aiden Montgomery's smile extended to his lips. He decided he was beginning to like this man. Noyce certainly spoke from the hip. And no doubt acted in the same manner.

"You cheer me to no end."

Bill Noyce returned the smile. He remained quiet for a while, studying the man seated across from him. His hand remained raised. After a long period he spoke again.

"Option three."

He held Montgomery's gaze and after a few moments could tell the other man was squirming inside. It wasn't obvious from his outward appearance... but Noyce knew it was happening. Because he'd been there before. Not in the same circumstances of course. But he'd been there.

"Option three..." he repeated, not really enjoying what he was about to offer, and very much aware that there were others in the UEO and elsewhere who would neither like his overture nor agree with it, "...I can grant you... in so-called legalize... immunity by right of executive privilege. A sort of amnesty if you will."

Montgomery didn't blink.

"Why?"

Bill Noyce sighed and dropped his hand to the table.

"I'm not really sure..." he admitted, "...other than because for some obscure reason that only you are aware of... you opted not to carry out Patrick Smith's orders to kill Captain Bridger." He paused. "And then managed to save his life during that melee up on the roof."

"I knew he wasn't guilty..." Montgomery leaned back in his chair.

Noyce quirked one eyebrow at him.

"If you knew... then Smith must've known."

"He did."

"Just got a little carried away with himself did he?"

Montgomery pondered several possible answers to that comment but remained neutral.

"I suppose you could say that."

The room was quiet for a long while before Montgomery broke the silence.

"So what's in it for me?"

Noyce quirked the same eyebrow.

"Besides your life?" He chuckled and leaned back. "You don't go to prison... you'd remain under what I suppose you'd call house arrest. In exchange you'd provide evidence and testimony pertinent to the prosecution of all others involved in this incident... as well as all other actions of this type in which you've been involved. Eventually... you might receive expanded liberties. That would depend on you."

Montgomery seemed to digest this information.

"And what's in it for you?"

Noyce crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Montgomery.

"Your knowledge. Your skill. Your... expertise." His gaze didn't waiver from the other man's.

Aiden Montgomery nodded as though this was exactly what he expected.

"I'll have to think about it," he quietly commented after a few moments. "Whether I accept your offer will depend on certain... circumstances." Montgomery turned his gaze toward the narrow window which looked out toward the west... and the setting sun.

Noyce waited.

"I'd like to see Captain Bridger." Montgomery's gaze remained on the view outside the window as he spoke, then he glanced at Noyce. "If that's possible."

This time it was Bill Noyce who nodded, as though this was exactly what he'd expected. Arms still folded across his chest, he turned his wrist to take a considering look at his watch.

"As a matter of fact... he went home late this afternoon." His keen gaze gave Montgomery the once-over as he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "I'll give him a call in the morning... see if I can work something out."

Nathan woke abruptly, feeling slightly disoriented and uncertain of his surroundings. He opened his eyes to a humid darkness, unbroken by even the natural illumination of the moon or stars. Turning his head to one side, he allowed his gaze to roam the room he was in, his eyes finally landing on the window, barely discernible yet evidenced by the cool breeze which made its way past the open panes. It brought with it a sting of salt. As his eyes adjusted to the shadows he could make out the curtains, fluttering like ghosts in the breeze. His ears adjusted to the night sounds, and he lay there for a moment, listening to the crash of waves along the shore. Along with the waves, buried beneath their hypnotic pounding, came another sound, this one of rain upon the roof. And the distant noise of thunder.

He was at home. His own home. He had no earthly idea how he'd gotten there, but there he was nonetheless. Nathan frowned. Kristin had been with him. He remembered that much. She'd been there with him earlier, had helped him undress and get into bed. Had pulled the covers up over him. She'd kissed him. Then... nothing. He couldn't remember a thing beyond that point. Obviously he'd gone to sleep. Reaching out with his right arm, toward the place in his bed that Kristin occupied when they were together there, he rolled over, only to be shocked to complete wakefulness at the sudden stabbing ache that seemed to grab at his left side and race across his chest. His groan of pain was muffled by the pillow as the events of the last week flooded his memory. As the pain subsided Nathan opened his eyes. The covers beside him were rumpled, the pillow turned almost sideways and shoved against his own. Sliding his hand beneath the sheet and blanket, he felt the residual warmth of Kristin's body. She'd been there and left... but hadn't been gone long.

A long roll of thunder rumbled above the rain, coming to a climax with a sharp crack. A sudden bolt of jagged lightning ripped through the sky nearby, bringing a sudden brilliance to the bedroom, which was just as abruptly returned to a darkness even more liquid than before. Knowing intuitively where Kristin would be, Nathan pushed himself out of bed and felt around for his robe. Not finding it where it should have been, he instead grabbed the bottle of pain pills which he'd remembered her placing on the bedside table and made his slow way to the bathroom to run a glass of water and gulp an allotment of medication. He glanced at himself in the mirror and decided he looked just about as bad as he felt, if not worse. If that were possible. He grimaced at the stark white bandaging covering part of his left shoulder and upper chest... his shoulder throbbed heavily and he could just make out dark bruising around the edges of the bandages around his collarbone. Leaving the bathroom light on, Nathan wandered from the bedroom across the hallway to the den, heading toward the porch which ran the length of the back of the house. Halfway there he shivered and rubbed his hands along his arms, the pajama bottoms he wore doing very little to deflect the damp chill the breeze was picking up.

Kristin was exactly where he'd figured she'd be. Curled up in one of the old but comfortable deck chairs, arms looped around her drawn up knees and bare feet resting against the cushion. Her chin was propped on her knees as she stared out through the screens at the rain coming down in torrents. She was wearing his robe. Nathan stood and watched her through the screen door for a few moments before pushing it open and stepping out onto the porch. He was beside her before she even knew he was there. Rather than startle her with a touch or by saying something, he simply moved past her to stand by the screen and join her in her contemplation of the rain.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" he eventually observed in a soft voice, turning around to face her. She shook her head, her face slightly averted. The skies outside flashed a brilliant white, turning the night into day for a brief instant. In the sudden dazzle of bright light Nathan had no trouble seeing the streaks of tears on Kristin's cheeks even as she avoided his gaze. As the humid inky darkness returned he saw her lift a hand to wipe them away. Moving to the chair directly across from her he carefully sat down, managing to stifle a grunt of pain but not the wince it brought with it.

"You shouldn't be up," Kristin murmured, her voice muffled against her knees.

"You okay?" Nathan continued in the same soft voice, ignoring her comment.

Against the shadows, and another brief flash of lightning, he saw her head nod. He sighed, knowing it wasn't true, but remained silent. And waited. After a few minutes she turned her face back toward the screens and returned to her contemplation of the rain. The two of them remained that way for a while, neither one saying anything, Kristin watching the rain and Nathan watching Kristin. Every once in a while she raised a hand to wipe at her cheeks. Nathan noticed she only did so when the porch was dark, between the flashes of lightning, obviously under the impression he couldn't see her do it. He didn't say anything to make her believe otherwise. The rain didn't let up. And the silence seemed to go on forever. He was almost startled when Kristin finally spoke. He had to strain to hear her voice over the tumult which nature had provided them.

"I was such a fool..."

She was staring at the rain but not really seeing it. Was visualizing instead scenes from the past, from many years before. And she didn't appear to be in a big hurry to say anything further.

"Why?" Nathan's voice was a soft timber when he eventually broke the silence. Even the pounding on the roof had begun to wind down to a soft patter and the thunder had quieted to an intermittent rumble. "Because you loved him?" He saw Kristin's head move in a slow negative motion.

"No..." she answered in a thick voice, "...yes... I don't know," she gave a confused shrug. "Partly I suppose..." There was a moment of silence during which Nathan attempted to interpret the expression on her face, but found it too difficult, due in part to the gloomy darkness of the porch and in part to his muzzy mind. "Mostly... because I was so naive. Everything he said... everything he did... seemed so..." Kristin wiped at her cheek with one hand, then pushed her hair back from her face, leaving her fingers tangled in it as she rested her elbow on her knee and continued to stare into the darkness beyond the house, "...so sincere... so genuine. And I was so gullible." She gave a watery laugh. "After what I went through with Jack... I should have seen it coming from a mile away. But I didn't."

Nathan watched the shadows dance across Kristin's face as the lightning began to pick up once more. Not the streaky bolts from before, but the overwhelming flashes of heat lightning. A brief frown marred his forehead as he remembered Kristin telling him about her second husband. From what he could remember, through the numbness the painkillers were beginning to instill, unbeknownst to Kristin he'd spent most of their marriage sleeping with any and every woman he came in contact with.

"Actually... he — Patrick..." Kristin drew a deep breath before continuing, "...was the first relationship I had after the divorce from Jack. The first serious relationship anyway." Her thoughts went back to those days of fifteen years previously. "I'd been offered a research grant and year's teaching post at the University of Queensland... with the tropical health program at Royal Brisbane Hospital. At the time it was something I was all too ready to jump at. Soooo... I bundled up Cynthia and off we went. I guess she was about nine at the time." Kristin smiled wanly. "She thought it was the grand adventure," she murmured reminiscently.

Nathan smiled too. Cynthia McKenzie had obviously taken after her mother in that respect at a very young age. He waited patiently for Kristin to continue. For several long minutes the only sounds that came from her direction were a few sniffles and the creak of the chair when she moved. She leaned back a little bit and rested against the back of the chair, but her arms remained looped about her upraised knees. She continued to stare into the damp darkness somewhere beyond Nathan's shoulder.

"I met Patrick a couple of months after we arrived... at some university function or another. His company was underwriting a rather large portion of the research I was involved in. The next day he called me at work and asked me to have dinner with him." Kristin raked her fingers through her hair, then leaned her head against the back of the chair and stared at the ceiling. "I should have followed my first instinct right then and there... and said thanks but no thanks. But I didn't. I suppose --" she raised her head and flashed Nathan a rueful glance before returning her attention to the rain which had begun to pick up again, "...I suppose I found him somewhat... attractive. And different. He was the total opposite of Jack. In looks... in appearance. In personality. Soooo..." she leaned forward again, her arms coming up to rest on top of her knees. "I went out with him... we started to see each other on a regular basis. And... one thing led to another..." She shrugged.

Nathan decided he didn't particularly need to hear what that one thing had led to. He was quite happy when Kristin didn't expound further. As a matter of fact, he wondered if she planned on continuing at all. He could see the glisten of fresh tears as the lightning flashed again.

"What happened?" he asked when he could stand the silence no longer.

"He... asked me to marry him," she finally said.

Further silence.

"But..." Nathan dragged the word out a bit, "...you didn't."

Silence again.

"No. I told him I would..." Kristin murmured, "...but I didn't."

Nathan waited patiently. He could tell that Kristin was facing an inward struggle against something she really didn't want to talk about, but felt she had to.

"Why not?" he eventually asked, curious despite himself.

Kristin wiped a hand across her cheeks before bringing it to rest against her forehead as she leaned her elbow on a knee. She stared past him again. She gave a slight, and seemingly lost, shrug of one shoulder.

"He..." she chewed at her lip a moment before continuing, "...he somehow managed to omit one important detail about his life."

Nathan waited again.

"It seems he was already married."

Nathan winced, but this time not from the pain in his shoulder. More from the pain in Kristin's voice... and in her heart. This time the silence stretched on even longer than before, but he made no attempt to break it. Kristin didn't move, just continued to stare past him into the night, her elbow still resting on her knee and her chin cupped in her hand. After a long while she began to slowly shake her head, an odd expression in her eyes.

"It's the funniest thing..." she murmured.

"What?" Nathan prodded gently.

"When I found out..." a slight frown settled on her forehead as she thought back to that confrontation, so many years ago now, in Patrick's office, "...my first reaction wasn't... how could you do this to me?" She swallowed painfully. "It was more in the line of... how could you do this to your wife? It was Jack all over again... only this time I was the other woman. And I think that hurt more than... than Patrick's betrayal." Kristin was silent for a few thoughtful moments. "And I wondered if she knew. Or if she was just living in the same sort of fantasy land I'd been in with Jack. And I felt humiliated... not just for me but for her. And I was angry. I wanted to strike out at something... at someone... anyone. Patrick I suppose. But I didn't."

"What did you do?" Nathan asked quietly.

"I asked him why," she whispered. "That's all. Just... why? He gave me the old line about being separated for years and just not getting around to the business of divorce. He hadn't seen his wife in who knows how long. She lived her life and he lived his." She gave a watery chuckle. "But he'd take care of things now... not to worry. He was on his way to see his attorney even as we spoke." Kristin sighed. "He picked up his briefcase to leave and told me he'd stop by the house to see me and to visit with Cynthia on his way back through town." She looked at Nathan. "I told him not to bother... we wouldn't be there. He left... and I never saw him again." She paused. "Until..." She dropped her gaze to her hands without expounding.

They were both quiet again, neither saying anything for a while. Nathan leaned his head back a bit, resting it against the wall behind his chair and watching Kristin through half-closed eyes. The rain continued to come down in torrents. The lightning continued to flash across the sky, turning it odd shades of orange and green. It was almost mesmerizing. Nathan's eyes closed a bit further. He noticed that Kristin was no longer rubbing at her cheeks. The tears had stopped. She just stared unseeingly at some distant point beyond his shoulder. His eyes almost closed, he was brought back to instant alertness by a clap of thunder immediately overhead. It sounded like a pistol shot and had him jerking upright in his chair. Nathan sighed. He felt dead on his feet and wasn't even standing up. Couldn't be a good sign. He really wanted to go back to bed. He really needed to go back to bed. He looked at Kristin. She was looking right back at him and chewing fitfully on her bottom lip. He opened his mouth to say something but Kristin got there first.

"He kissed me."

Nathan just looked at her.

"I suppose Ben told you about that."

Nathan frowned. Krieg had kissed her? He shook his head. No. Couldn't be. That would be one for the books. He must be imagining things. Or dreaming. He was very confused. Which was about par for the course. Kristin could tell he was confused.

"Patrick kissed me. And..." she gave a little shrug, "...I guess I kissed him back."

"I... see," Nathan said. But he didn't.

"It..." she shrugged helplessly, "...he just surprised me. And I didn't mean... I didn't want..." Kristin stopped talking and released a tired sigh. "Maybe I did want it. I guess... I just wondered if it would be the same. And then suddenly Ben was there. And from the way he looked at me... from the comments he made... I knew he'd seen us." She tried to decipher the expression on Nathan's face and found she couldn't. He appeared to be in one of those poker-faced phases that he had a habit of falling into. The shadows on the porch didn't help any. Kristin went back to her lip-gnawing before hesitantly breaking the silence. "He didn't tell you did he?"

"Uh uh."

Kristin leaned back and lowered her knees, crossing her legs Indian fashion instead. She dropped her gaze to her fingers as they picked absently at the hem of the robe she was wearing.

"Trust Ben Krieg to develop a conscience when you least expect it," she murmured dryly, almost to herself. She wished Nathan would say something. Anything. Finally he did.

"Was it?"

Kristin frowned. This time it was she who was confused.

"Was it what?"

She saw Nathan's head tilt to one side curiously, but the expression on his face didn't change. If total impassiveness could in any way be referred to as an expression to begin with.

"The same," he reminded her.

"Oh." Her gaze dropped back to her restless fingers. She shook her head. "No. I knew it wouldn't be. I just --" She raised her head to look at him again. "Nathan..." she took a deep breath and released it "...whatever feelings I might have once had for Patrick..." she gave a small sigh as she searched for just the right words "... died years ago. My relationship with him probably should have ended long before it did. I guess... I suppose I was at a point in my life where I was looking for... for some sort of permanence. After Alex..." her gaze dropped for a moment, then returned to its earlier contemplation of the rain and darkness beyond his shoulder, "...and then Jack..." She shrugged. "I guess... I just wanted someone. I needed someone. And I needed someone do need me. For a while I thought I had that." A frown wrinkled her brow for a brief moment. "For a long time afterwards..." her lips tilted ruefully, "...I really didn't care very much for men. I suppose... in a way... I got taught a good lesson." Kristin shrugged again. "Anyway... the signs were all there. I should've been able to see them. And if I'd been looking I probably would have. But I wasn't looking... I didn't want to look. I guess I was scared of what I might find." Her gaze sought Nathan's. "Like I said before..." she murmured, "...I was such a fool. That's what really hurt."

Nathan's face remained impassive. Kristin waited for a reaction... any reaction. Instead he just leaned his head back against the wall behind his chair and stared at her. She searched for a crack in his expression but there was none. Finally she heard a tired sigh from the shadows. A brief flash of lightning showed her that his eyes were half closed.

"I don't suppose there're any more of 'em out there?"

Kristin's gaze was uncertain. She had no earthly idea what he was talking about.

"Any more what?"

Nathan leaned carefully forward. He rested his elbows on his knees and cupped his chin in both hands as he looked at Kristin.

"Any more old boyfriends." His eyebrows went up. "Much as I love you... I don't think I could handle too many more situations like this." A ghost of a smile curved his lips. "I'm just not as young as I used to be you know."

A smile trembled on Kristin's lips.

"You may find this a bit difficult to believe... but my love life has been much less exciting than you apparently imagine it has."

"Yeah, I can tell..." Nathan muttered as he pushed himself to his feet. He stood there for just a moment, silhouetted against the fireworks still lighting up the sky, then held out his hand to her. His voice was soft when he spoke. "What do you say we go back to bed?"

She stood, one arm curving to the back of his neck as his arms slipped around her. His embrace tightened, pulling her closer against him. They stood there for a long time, Kristin's head on his shoulder, his face buried in the perfumed silkiness of her hair, each drawing strength from the other. Neither moved, neither said a word. Finally Nathan pulled back a bit. He raised one hand to her cheek, his fingers gently skimming the tracks of the tears which had dried there, before moving upward to tangle in her hair. He brought his face closer to hers, his lips touching hers lightly in the softest of kisses...

Manilow Crocker leaned back in his chair, which itself was tilted precariously on its back legs, and heaved a relaxed sigh. He was feeling pretty good. Better than he had in days, that was for sure. A satisfied smile came to his face as his gaze fell upon the bottle of aged scotch whiskey which held the place of honor in the center of the table. Another on the house bottle from Calvin Shelley. Twice now in a week's time the retired Navy captain cum bartender had defied his reputation as the stingiest officer in the fleet by unlocking the good stuff and donating it to the cause. Of course, Crocker reasoned, last time it had been just him and the Captain. Tonight there were a few more in attendance... quite a few more... so if Shelley kept up this uncharacteristic streak of kindness he was bound to find himself a bit lighter in the spirits department when the night was over.

His smile widening, Crocker picked up his glass. He raised it in a quick salute of acknowledgment to Shelley, who merely leaned his burly forearms against the bar and grinned back at him. Then Crocker tipped his glass to those surrounding the table, each of whom picked up his... or her... own drink. He allowed his gaze to wander over them, touching each with his twinkling blue eyes. Rex Humboldt. His old friend had really come through. Jonathan Ford, Miguel Ortiz, William Shan and Tim O'Neill. A heck of a good bunch of crewmates. Ex-crewmates, he corrected himself. He hadn't realized until he'd seen them again just how much he'd missed them. More than he'd ever missed any of the old salts he'd served with back in the good old days. Yep. A heck of a good bunch of men. And women. His gaze fell on Katie Hitchcock. Someone else who'd come through, without thought of how she might be putting her career on the line to do so. And Ben Krieg. Crocker just shook his head in disbelief as he looked at Krieg. Ben met his gaze and grinned as only Ben could. Which caused Crocker to chuckle. He raised his glass a little higher.

"Here's to friends..."

The others raised their glasses in a solemn salute and in quiet unison repeated Crocker's toast.

"To friends..."

Nathan buttoned his shirt as he walked ever so slowly through the house, carefully taking each step at a time, grimacing now and then as he jarred a part of his body that he didn't even know was sore. When he stopped to think about it... and he did actually stop, right in the middle of the living room, and think about it... he felt like he'd been run over by a truck. He could understand his chest and his shoulder and even his arm... but everywhere else? His back hurt, his knees hurt, even his toes hurt. With a sad shake of his head he started moving again, heading in the direction of the kitchen, where his nose told him a nice big pot of black coffee was brewing. His nose. He touched his nose and quickly pulled his hand away. His nose hurt, too. He grimaced. It was just as he'd told Kristin last night. He just wasn't as young as he used to be.

As he reached the entranceway between the dining room and the kitchen he looked up to see Bill Noyce grinning at him.

"You look like hell, Nathan."

"Thanks..." one corner of Bridger's mouth curled upward, "...you don't know how much I appreciate you letting me know that, Bill."

Noyce continued to stare at him, amusement evident in his blue gaze.

"Reminds me of a certain night in Libya..." he grinned, "...more years ago than I care to remember."

Nathan scowled, his glance bouncing off Kristin and Lucas as he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table.

"I'd rather not talk about that if you don't mind."

"Yeah... I guess you're right..." Noyce nodded conspiratorially as he pulled out a chair next to Nathan and leaned toward him, "...not something one should be discussing in mixed company."

Lucas glanced up from the waffles he was eating. Nathan frowned. Waffles were for Sunday. Was this Sunday? He peered at the calendar clinging to the refrigerator door with the help of a magnet shaped liked Hawaii and advertising various local emergency numbers. After some rough mental calculation he decided that it was indeed Sunday.

Lucas grinned a big grin as he poured more syrup onto his waffles and cut into them with his fork. He obviously hadn't combed his hair yet this morning and it fell into his eyes in an unruly mop.

"Mixed company, huh?" he smirked between bites, looking at Bridger. "You're probably just too embarrassed to talk about it." It felt good to be able to joke about something. Even if he might regret it.

Nathan frowned. And noticed that frowning made his forehead hurt.

Bill Noyce got a faraway look in his eyes. "God... those were the days," he sighed.

Nathan stared at him.

"You're crazy," he muttered.

Kristin smiled as she came around the table and slid a plate in front of him. She gave his good shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the waffle iron on the counter. She began pouring more batter, at the same time throwing a quick glance at Noyce. He was very obviously trying to pretend he had no interest in what was on Nathan's plate. Kristin smiled again, her back to the table as she busied herself with the batter.

"Are you staying, Bill?"

"Excuse me?"

"For breakfast?" Kristin prodded, still not looking at him.

"Uh... well..." he looked at his watch and pretended to consider, "...I guess I could. From the look of things..." he glanced at Bridger, who was spreading butter and pouring syrup almost in slow motion "...Nathan and I won't be able to talk until he's finished here... whenever that might be. So I guess I might as well. If its all right," he tacked on hastily.

"Talk?" Nathan asked, Noyce's words finally penetrating his bleary mind.

"Talk," Noyce nodded, accepting a plate from Kristin. His face brightened. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was. "There are a few..." he mulled his choice of words for a moment, "...loose ends we have to clear up."

Nathan laid his fork on the table. He suddenly decided he'd lost his appetite.

Kristin sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a mug of hot coffee, as she watched Nathan and Bill from the window. They slowly walked a few hundred yards up the beach, then turned to watch a very sluggish surf roll in as they talked. She wondered what the topic of conversation was. It was difficult to read the expression on either man's face from this distance, so she didn't even try. She sighed inwardly... then outwardly as Lucas wandered back into the kitchen and out again, making noise in the den as he apparently searched for something. He'd been increasingly restless since she'd brought Nathan home from the hospital, and she knew it was mostly out of worry and the aftereffects of what had happened during the past week, which she understood... but it didn't keep her from wishing that he'd gone ahead with his scheduled plans for this weekend. Not because she didn't want him there or because he was in the way... he'd been her shoulder to lean on during the past couple of days. But now she just needed some time alone with Nathan. Away from everybody. Including Lucas. And Bill Noyce. And everybody else in the world. She wanted to lock the doors and windows, pull the shades, and pretend nobody else existed. Even if just for a little while.

With another sigh Kristin got up and went to stand just inside the doorway to the den. She tugged absent-mindedly at the belt of the overly-large robe she was wearing for a moment, then pushed the sleeves up as she leaned against the door casing. Lucas seemed to be trying to straighten the room up, moving books back to shelves and throwing pillows back where they belonged. It was a few minutes before he noticed her standing there. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans and looked at her a bit hesitantly.

"I umm..." he indicated the room with a motion of his head, "...was just cleaning things up a little."

Kristin nodded as she ran a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face.

"Lucas..." she took a deep breath, figuring she was about to get an argument. "You've still got time to catch Tim and Miguel before they leave..." she watched the boy's face as he listened, "...why don't you change your mind and go with them? I know how much you were looking forward to today and..." She shrugged. "It'll do you some good to get out... have some fun." The three had made plans some weeks earlier to check out the new amusement park on the other side of Honolulu. Miguel had made mention that it was better than Disneyland and Six Flags combined and that the roller coaster would make your head spin... along with your stomach. He and O'Neill had decided not to change their plans and had tried to talk Lucas out of changing his, but he'd been adamant about staying home.

Lucas frowned.

"But what about you and the Captain. What if something happened... or you needed something?" He shook his head, though it wasn't with as much determination as Kristin thought there might have been. "I should be here. Tim and Miguel can get along without me."

Kristin smiled.

"That may be... but I really think they'd have a much better time if you were with them. I think part of the reason they decided to stick with their plans was that it would give them a chance to blow off a little steam." Kristin pushed away from the doorway and went to stand in front of Lucas. She took his hands in hers and gave a little squeeze, canting her head to one side as she looked up into his face. "I don't think it would hurt for you to do a little bit of that, too."

Lucas gripped her hands, his fingers a little restless. It took him a few minutes to respond. When he did it appeared he was reconsidering.

"You and the Captain... you'd be okay by yourselves?"

Kristin just stared at him, a small smile on her face.

"Oh, Lucas..." Her arms slipped around him and she pulled him close. His own arms went around her shoulders. "We'll be just fine," she muttered into his shoulder. Finally she pulled back a little, though her arms remained around him. "So stop being silly. Go..." she pushed against his chest and took a step back, catching one of his hands in hers again. "Have fun." She looked down at their clasped hands. "As for me and Nathan... don't worry about us. We'll be fine. We have a few things we need to discuss..." she raised her gaze to his and made a face, "...and to tell you the truth, it might be better if you weren't around when we do that."

That made Lucas worry again.

"It's... nothing bad, is it?" he frowned. "What you're gonna discuss?"

Kristin shook her head.

"No... nothing bad."

"I mean..." Lucas shrugged,"...he's been kinda... you know. Before everything happened... he was... I don't know." He shrugged again. "He really missed you, you know? And he wouldn't talk about it." Lucas ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back as he looked at Kristin. "I was really worried about him. He wasn't very happy... I think he's been happier these last few days he's been in the hospital than he was for the last month."

"I know," Kristin nodded, shoving her hands into the pockets of her robe. "Most of that was my fault." She stared at the floor. "And I can't say that I was any happier than he was."

"But now you're gonna talk things out. And things'll be back to the way they were before... and you'll both be happier. Right?"

"I..." Kristin glanced up at the boy. "I certainly hope so, Lucas. If its up to me that's the way it'll be. I guess it'll just depend on how Nathan reacts to... to some of the things we need to talk about." She stared at him for a few seconds then smiled and grasped his arm, propelling him toward the vid-phone. "Now... call Tim and Miguel before its too late."

Nathan stepped onto the porch, a frustrated expression on his face. He was just in time to catch Lucas rushing out the door, zipping up a carry-all bag as he headed down the steps. Used to the whirlwind which was Lucas, he merely raised an eyebrow. Lucas paused just long enough to explain that he'd talked to Kristin and that he'd changed his mind about the trip to the amusement park and that O'Neill and Ortiz would be there any second to pick him and that he hoped the Captain didn't mind. The Captain didn't mind. The Captain told him to have fun. The Captain also told him that if he got home too late, and he was well aware of what too late implied, that he might as well head home with O'Neill and Ortiz and spend the night at their place. Lucas just grinned at that and sprinted to the car as his two companions drove up. They waved as they drove off. Bridger just smiled and shook his head. Then the frustrated look returned and he headed into the house.

He was halfway to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Nathan raised his eyes to the ceiling. What now? He retraced his steps, taking note of Kristin's light steps behind him as she appeared from somewhere else in the house. She was a few feet behind him when he reached the door. He stared through the screen at the young man who stood there.

"Mr. Krieg?" Bridger said rather formally, his eyebrow going up again. He pushed the screen door open a bit. Ben grasped it as he stood on the porch, holding it open but not coming in. It was difficult not to notice the way Bridger was staring at him. And how Kristin was staring at him over the Captain's shoulder. Which well they should be. For Ben Krieg was dressed in the uniform of a UEO Navy lieutenant. The same uniform he used to wear while serving aboard seaQuest.

"I ummm... " he began, but got no further. He wasn't quite sure how to begin.

"Going to a costume party, Lieutenant?" Bridger's eyebrows were still raised.

Ben smiled. That was it. That's why he'd done this. Part of it anyway. Because of the way Bridger had continually referred to him as 'Lieutenant' during the incident with the terrorists. He'd liked that. Heaven help him... he'd liked being referred to in that manner once again. And it sure beat the hell out of the restaurant supply business.

"I uh..." Krieg began, stopped, squared his shoulders, cleared his throat and tried again. "I reupped, sir."

Nathan gave him an assessing stare.

"So I see."

Ben's gaze shifted from Bridger to Westphalen and back to Bridger.

"Could we... would you mind if we took a walk, sir?" He motioned toward the beach before his gaze went back to Kristin. "Not that there's anything I need to say that I wouldn't want you to hear, Doc. It's just that its sort of... man to man, you know? Mano y mano."

"Of course... Lieutenant," Kristin murmured benignly.

Nathan merely looked toward the beach. He could still make out the footprints he and Noyce had left in the sand, which the surf hadn't even found time to wash away. He'd thought he was barely going to make it back to the house from that walk, now here Krieg was expecting him to accompany him on a stroll. With a glance at Kristin, who just shrugged, he led Krieg back down the porch steps and fell into step beside him as they walked slowly along the sand.

Kristin stood in the doorway and continued to watch them for a few minutes. Then, with another rueful shake of her head, along with the fervent hope that this would be their last visitor of the still young day, she wandered back through the house to the back porch. There she stood looking through the screens for a little while, absently rolling up the sleeves of the white cotton shirt she'd borrowed from Nathan's closet, before slipping through the door and heading for the short dock that extended into the water closest to that part of the house. She gazed out over the ocean as she sat there, the waves washing ashore providing a calming effect as she thought about what she was going to say to Nathan. She was still sitting there, and still trying to figure it out, when he finally put in an appearance about thirty minutes later. He groaned as he sat down next to her on the hard decking, his grimace of pain indicating to Kristin as no words could that he'd already overdone it for the day, much to the doctor's orders to the contrary. As he leaned back against a post his hand went to her jean-clad leg, which he rubbed reassuringly as he noticed her frown of concern.

"So what's the story?" she asked, deciding to start the conversation out on a somewhat tame note. No telling in what shape it would eventually end up.

Nathan sighed and followed her gaze out over the water.

"The world as we know it is coming to an end," he solemnly informed her.

"What?" Kristin laughed.

"Krieg's put in for re-assignment aboard seaQuest when she's completed."

"Mmmm hmmm," was Kristin's only comment.

"And the UEO is now consorting with known terrorists."

That comment got him a quick glance from her.

"Bill wants to make some sort of deal with Montgomery."

Kristin continued to stare at him.

"What kind of deal?"

Nathan shrugged, bemused by her rather lackluster response to something which would normally send her off on some diatribe about the military and its workings and how she didn't particularly care for the way they got things done. She didn't appear too put off by the thought of the UEO allowing Aiden Montgomery some sort of leniency. Something which he mentioned to her. She followed his example and shrugged.

"Maybe I just figure he deserves a little better treatment than the rest of them."

"Why?"

Kristin's eyes searched his face.

"Because he saved your life."

Nathan gave her a rather cynical half-smile.

"Things like that don't go a long way with the UEO. You know what their policy is when it comes to dealing with terrorists."

"It may not go a long way with the UEO... but it does with me," Kristin responded.

Nathan didn't quite know how to reply to that so he remained silent.

"He wants to see me," he finally said, turning a little sideways so that he almost faced Kristin. She gave him a questioning look. "Montgomery. Bill seems to think he's inclined to make the deal... but he wants to talk to me first."

"Why? What about?"

Nathan shrugged.

Kristin studied him for a moment.

"So are you're going to?" she asked.

"See him?" His turned his gaze back to the water, squinting his eyes against the bright reflections the sun cast down on it. "Yeah... I suppose so."

They were both quiet for a while, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Finally Kristin decided she'd better say what she had to say and get it over with. It certainly wasn't going to go away, and the sooner she told him the better.

"Nathan?"

"Hmmmm?"

Her gaze slid sideways to study his face. He was still looking out over the water. She wondered what he was thinking about.

"Can I talk to you about something?"

He frowned at the inflection in her voice and turned his head to look at her.

"I thought we were talking."

Kristin shook her head.

"Not about this..." she said, drawing her knees up and looping her arms around them, "...about us."

Nathan's gaze dropped to the rough planking of the dock. His eyes followed his finger as he absently drew designs on the wood. He didn't care for the kind of talking Kristin was proposing. It usually boded no good for either one of them. The last time they'd had such a discussion she'd ended up telling him they needed some time apart. He'd ended up neither seeing her nor hearing from her for the entire month preceding the UEO takeover. Until the night immediately before it occurred. And that was only because he'd made the first move. He didn't say anything for a while.

"You've changed your mind about getting married," he finally ventured, his voice low.

"No... I haven't changed my mind."

Nathan released a relieved breath but didn't raise his eyes.

"So... what then?"

She wasn't any quicker with a response than he'd been. After a seemingly endless silence she reached out and grasped his hand, her fingers curling into his. She waited for him to look at her. When he finally did, it was with an oddly uncertain expression in his dark eyes. Her own smoky gaze held his for a moment with a strange hesitance. She started to say something, then stopped. She looked down at their linked hands and then tugged at his.

"Why don't we go for a walk."

Nathan looked at her like she'd lost her mind but she either didn't notice or chose to ignore him. He clearly remembered the doctor telling him to just move around a little bit until he got his bearings back. He hadn't said anything about walking a marathon his first day home. But he didn't argue. He probably wouldn't be able to move for a week after today... but he didn't argue. He watched Kristin stand, then pushed himself to his feet at another tug of her hand.

They wandered slowly along the shoreline, hand in hand, neither one saying anything. Nathan gave Kristin a sideways glance, deciding he'd trade a walk on the beach with Noyce or Krieg for one with her any day. He watched as the light breeze played with her hair, blowing it into her face. She lifted her hand and brushed it back, then looked over at him, catching his glance.

"Why'd you change your mind the other evening?"

Nathan's soft question took Kristin by surprise.

"I don't..." she shook her head and shrugged, her gaze dropping to the sand. "I'm not sure. Everything just seemed so... complicated all of a sudden."

"Going out for dinner is complicated?"

"At that point in my day it seemed to be," she admitted.

"You said... in the message you left me..." and Nathan wasn't about to tell her how many times he'd replayed in his mind that video message he'd received just prior to the invasion of UEO headquarters by the terrorist group, "...you said you had some things to work out." There was a small silence as he continued to look at her and she continued to stare at the sand. "Have you worked them out yet?" he asked when she didn't comment.

Kristin's gaze raised up to meet his again. While they'd been walking she'd been trying to figure out just how to tell him what she had to tell him... had been waiting for some sort of opening. It seemed he'd given her one.

"Nathan..." Her gaze dropped back down to the sand beneath their feet. She watched as it oozed upwards as their feet sank into it, then was washed by the lazy surf that was beginning to lap up against their ankles. She stopped, their linked hands forcing him to turn and face her. Her dusky gaze captured his. "I guess that sort of depends on you... because actually... they're things that we both need to work out. Together."

He nodded. Not that he understood what she was talking about. Much like he hadn't understood her end of their conversation in the hospital... when he'd asked her to marry him. She'd inferred that whatever it was that had been on her mind hadn't been about the boat... or him working such long days... or the fact that she'd felt he'd been taking her for granted.

"Nathan..."

Just say it, Kristin, she told herself. Tell the man you're pregnant. There are only a limited number of ways he can react. Kristin sighed as she stared into Nathan's eyes. That was what it all boiled down to. How he'd react.

"Nathan--"

A car horn honked loudly and somewhat insistently somewhere behind them. Both of them turned their heads to look back toward the house. Kristin didn't recognize the car but Nathan did. It was Crocker. His former security chief opened the car door and got out, then leaned against the hood and lifted a hand in their direction. Nathan expelled an ill-humored sigh and returned his gaze to Kristin. He squeezed her hand and gave her a half smile.

"Stay here... " he said, "...I'll see what he wants and send him on his way."

Kristin's only answer was a resigned nod. Her eyes followed Nathan as he headed slowly back to the house and began talking with Crocker... until her attention was caught by a commotion out on the water. Shielding her eyes against the sun, she stared out over the waves. Then she smiled. It was Darwin. She stood and rolled up the bottoms of her jeans before wading out into the ocean. She was out there a while, communing with the dolphin, before finally glancing back toward the house. Crocker was gone. Nathan had wandered back onto the dock and stood leaning against the railing, staring down into the water. She frowned and gave Darwin one last rub along his beak before wading back to shore. A few minutes later she approached Nathan.

"Is anything wrong?"

Nathan pushed away from the railing.

"No..." She couldn't read his eyes and his thoughts seemed elsewhere. It was as if he really didn't notice her. He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath, looking out over the ocean a minute before moving around her and heading toward the house. "There's just something I have to do."

Kristin stood there and watched him walk away before finally following along behind him. He went into the house and came back out moments later, his car keys in his hand.

"What are you doing?" she hurried after him as he headed for his car, grabbing his arm as he pulled the door open. "You're in no condition to be driving anywhere."

He just looked at her.

"Kristin, I have to." He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss, removing her hand from his arm as he slid into his seat and pulled the door shut.

"Then I'm coming with you," she announced in a no-nonsense voice, leaning into the window and grabbing the front of his shirt as he slipped the key into the ignition switch. "No arguments," she ordered, when he opened his mouth to do just that. He released a sigh and nodded, starting the car as she rounded the hood and got in on the other side.

It took a while to get where they were going. Wherever that might be. Kristin certainly had no idea. Bypassing the main thoroughfares, Nathan took them on a circuitous route which she eventually decided was leading them around the naval base. They were definitely heading through environs she had no idea even existed. It was therefore with absolute astonishment that she got her first view of the old naval shipyards... of the seemingly endless rows of ships and boats... vessels of every size and description... some residing in dry dock, others still afloat, their days of service finished for good. She glanced at Nathan as he pulled the car to the side of the road and brought it to a stop. They were still some distance from the main entrance to the facility. He didn't turn off the ignition, merely shifted into neutral and set the parking brake, and allowed the engine to idle. Then he rested his forearms along the top of the steering wheel and leaned forward, balling one hand into a fist and leaning his chin atop it. He stared across at what Kristin figured would amount to a retired fleet, though she acknowledged to herself that was a bit of an exaggeration. She brought her gaze back to the man next to her.

"This is what Crocker came to see you about?"

Her soft words were more a statement of fact than a question. Nathan's only response was a deep sigh. A few more silent minutes followed before he abruptly leaned back and shifted the car back into motion. Within minutes they were passed through the security gate and into the actual shipyards themselves. Nathan didn't drive in very far. He quickly found a spot to park the car and got out. Kristin didn't move, not sure whether he actually wanted her along on this leg of the trip or not. Bridger rounded the hood of the car, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he looked in several different directions and attempted to get his bearings, then stopped and waited. Finally he glanced in Kristin's direction and dipped his head to look at her through her window. Then without saying anything he opened the car door and waited for her to get out.

It took him a while to find the Intrepid. Even with Crocker's directions echoing in his head. And when he did eventually locate the boat he wasn't even sure it was her. They always looked different out of the water. Somehow smaller... less menacing. And she'd been salvaged. Parts of her anyway. Bridger looked for the name on her side, knowing full well it hadn't been there since that day eighteen years previously when the torpedoes had ripped through her and obliterated all sign of it. His gaze followed the sleek lines of the boat. There were large gaps in her plating... large enough for a man to walk through. Which is exactly what he did upon finding a convenient location from which to do so. It turned out to be a more laborious effort than it had first appeared. Nathan was forced to pause to catch his breath, wincing at the dull throb in his chest which was brought back to life by the exertion, before helping Kristin climb aboard.

The air inside the boat was damp and musty. It smelled of seawater and oxidation and sweating metal and rotting cloth. Sort of like a an old dirty sock, damp with perspiration. Bugs scuttled across the decks and spiderwebs hung in tendrils from deserted stations and abandoned equipment. Kristin's only experience when it came to submarines had been her tour aboard seaQuest. She wasn't exactly sure where they were in the interior of this one, but as she followed slowly along behind Nathan she came to the swift conclusion that she had been living in the lap of luxury during her thirteen months aboard the other boat. Sunlight shone in through the gaping holes in the top and sides of the Intrepid, making it almost bright as day as Nathan led her deeper into the boat. When they did finally venture into a part of the vessel that was in darkness, he pulled out a pocket flashlight, obviously having come prepared.

Bridger hadn't said a word since they'd left the house, and once they'd boarded the sub neither had Kristin, feeling somewhat disinclined to intrude on his memories. After a while he began to point out various things to Kristin, keeping up a soft one-sided conversation as they wandered slowly along. The first thing he made her aware of was that the Intrepid, unlike the original seaQuest, was constructed on just one level, if you didn't count parts of the engine room and mechanical areas. Everything that had ever occurred on this boat had taken place on just the one level. People had worked, eaten and slept there. Eventually some had died there. Kristin, though she no longer considered herself a complete neophyte when it came to submersibles, was surprised by the tightness inside the boat. Her eyebrows rose in astonishment when, after pointing out the officers cabins, Nathan led her through the crews quarters. If you could call them that. Just bunks, one on top of another, usually two high and in some places three high, with just curtains — or what was left of them — to pull across for privacy.

Their wanderings came to an abrupt halt at the aft weapons room with its missile access compartments. The entrance hatch was gone. Nathan stood within the opening for a few minutes and looked around. The room was a mess. There was an gap where some of the hull plating had been removed. Part of the edge of the opening was jagged and looked like it had been pushed inward with great force. Part of it was smooth, obviously cut with a tool of some sort. The elements had managed to make their way through the opening... rain and seawater and sand and dust. Kristin leaned against the bulkhead just outside the compartment and watched Nathan. He gave one last glance around the room and turned around, lifting a hand to run it along the coping of the hatchway. He wondered where the hatch itself was. The hatch which had been almost their sole protection... for eleven endless days... against the roiling Atlantic. Against sudden death. He caught Kristin looking at him.

"What?" he asked.

Kristin shrugged. She could feel the cold sweat of the wall soaking into her shirt.

"I don't know. I guess I was just thinking." She gave another uncertain shrug. "About what you must have gone through. It's a miracle that you made it back..." her voice was thoughtful and soft. "I guess in a lot of ways... considering what's gone before in both of our lives... it's as much a miracle that we've had the opportunity to even know each other. It's funny... the little twists and turns our lives make."

Nathan slipped back into the gangway, his hand at the small of Kristin's back as he urged her back in the direction they'd come.

"Sweetheart..." he sighed, "...you don't know the half of it."

He stood just inside the bridge hatch and looked around, much as he'd done in the weapons room. And just as she'd done before, Kristin stood and watched him. It was much as Nathan remembered it, though compared to the subs he'd subsequently served on, and again in comparison to seaQuest, it seemed small. So small. He took the few steps that brought him to his former station. Reached out and fingered instruments not touched in almost two decades. It seemed almost surreal... walking into this former part of his life. This once so important part of his life. He could almost see the others at their own stations.

His glance went to the captain's chair. Well, the glorified area from which the captain commanded his bridge. Terry McClure stood there, plain as day. Bridger could almost swear to it. His salt and pepper hair shaped in that old buzz cut he used to wear. Arms folded across his chest as he watched his crew at work. A smile widening his lips and a twinkle entering his eye as he shared an infrequent laugh with the men and women surrounding him. Then suddenly he lay on the deck... his khaki uniform cloaked with blood. Water foaming around him as it washed across the bridge. Nathan's breathing quickened just thinking about it... his memories of that moment still so real. So new. So raw. He swallowed and pulled his gaze away. McClure disappeared. So did the rest of the crew. There was only silence and emptiness. A great big emptiness. Not just on the bridge of the old sub... but inside him, too. He'd never thought it would come at him so sharply. As if it was just yesterday and not eighteen years ago.

Bridger stuffed his hands into his pockets and slowly roamed from station to station. Every once in a while he stopped and stared at a piece of equipment or pulled a hand from his pocket and reached out to tentatively touch something.

"Why do you blame yourself for what happened?"

Startled by the sound of Kristin's voice, Nathan turned around to look at her. Until that moment he'd forgotten she was there. He stared at her, his hands back in his pockets, his expression somewhat hard to describe. He gave serious thought to his answer before offering it to her.

"I don't blame myself... I've never done that," he said.

When she seemed confused he came to her rescue.

"I've never blamed myself for what happened. I've just..." He sighed, suddenly introspective. "I've just always felt that I was left with a certain..." he frowned as he searched his mind for the right word, "...with a certain responsibility. And that I didn't quite live up to it."

Kristin frowned.

"I still don't understand. From what Chief Crocker said--"

"Crocker talks too much," Bridger interrupted gruffly.

It was Kristin's turn to sigh as she stared at him across the shadowed bridge.

"Perhaps," she conceded softly. "But that doesn't negate the fact that he was there. And from the way he described it..." Kristin gave a bewildered shake of her head, "...there was absolutely nothing you could have done to prevent what happened. You... or anyone else for that matter."

Bridger didn't respond to that immediately. Instead he leaned against the bulkhead at his back and stared thoughtfully at the deck. There was a long silence, broken only by the creaking of the vessel as it was buffeted by the breeze, and by the slapping sounds of the waves somewhere close by. Eery sounds evoking eery feelings.

"Maybe not," Nathan eventually admitted. "But that doesn't mean I don't feel a certain accountability."

"Any responsibility you had began and ended with getting your crew home."

"Yeah, I know... that's what everyone told me back then."

"You expect too much of yourself, Nathan."

"Is that so bad?" Nathan asked, lifting his gaze from its intent inspection of the deck. Kristin was relieved to see he was smiling a little.

"Sometimes." She paused for a moment, her eyes searching his face. "This is the first time you've been back here."

Nathan nodded.

"Why?"

"You sound just like a psychiatrist," he accused, then shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose because so much of what happened here was something I didn't want to think about. There were too many bad memories here... and not enough good ones." Bridger took a deep breath and released it, then pushed himself away from the bulkhead and toward the hatch. "You ready to go?"

Kristin nodded as he passed her, noting that he didn't even bother with a last glance around. She stood there thoughtfully, listening to his footfalls as they echoed back at her. It wasn't until those footsteps ceased and she heard him call her name, the inflection of a question in his voice, that she turned to follow him. Nathan waited until she almost caught up with him before turning and preceding her through the bowels of the boat.

"Nathan?"

"Hmmmm?" When she didn't continue Bridger paused and turned slightly to glance over his shoulder at her as she came to a stop.

"Would you... ummmm..." Kristin folded her arms and leaned to one side, against what just happened to be a tier of bunks. "Do you think you'd like to make a good memory here?" she finished softly.

Bridger glanced at the bunks behind her and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not exactly sure what you have in mind..." he said, a hint of a smile curving his lips, "...but I am pretty certain this isn't the place for it."

Kristin returned his smile and shook her head in admonishment.

"That isn't what I was talking about... and you know it."

Nathan moved the few steps it took to stand in front of her, then reached out to lightly tangle his fingers in her russet hair, tucking it back behind her ears before framing her face with his hands and leaning forward to kiss her. Gently. At least that's the way it started. After a few moments it deepened to the point where Bridger wondered if his teasing insinuation might not have hit the mark. He pulled back, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Kristin's as they both made an attempt to catch their breaths. It took him a bit longer than Kristin. After all... he was still in rather pitiful shape. At least that's the excuse he gave himself.

"I love you," he whispered. "And I think..." he opened his eyes to stare into hers, "...we just made that good memory."

His fingers tangled in her hair again as she shook her head, her forehead still resting against his, her gaze holding his own.

"Not all of it..." she answered back, "...I hope."

Bridger's gaze dropped to her lips as he felt her warm breath against his face. He pulled back a bit, then brought his mouth to hers once again, gently tracing the outline of her lips with his tongue before administering several soft kisses. He suddenly found himself wanting more than this. More than merely holding her. More than the kisses. He wanted all of her. Thoughts and needs which were slightly... more than slightly... out of place considering their current location.

"Nathan..."

"Mmmmm..." His lips continued their perusal as Kristin removed her hands from his chest and looped her arms around his waist.

"Nathan..." A kiss interrupted her.

"Hmmmm?" Another kiss.

"Nathan I'm..." His lips went to the delicately beating pulse in her throat. She needed to tell him. She wanted to tell him. If he just wouldn't make it... so... damn... difficult. She swallowed and tried again. "Nathan..."

"Lets go home," the man in question interrupted, burying his face against her shoulder as he tried to steady his breath.

Kristin drew a deep breath and nodded. That was it. Home. They'd go home. And she'd tell him. As soon as they got there. The first thing she'd do was tell him. Before anything else happened. She'd tell him.

There was something she needed to tell him. The thought of it kept niggling at the back of her mind. Kristin opened her eyes a crack and looked into the ebony gaze of the man whose body covered hers. She smiled at the concentration in those dark eyes as he placed small kisses along her jawline, then moved lower, his mouth and tongue retracing a path they'd traveled so many times in the past. Her hands tightened on his shoulders and her breath quickened as he continued his downward journey... and her feelings unknowingly paralleled those Nathan had experienced when they'd been aboard the boat. She wanted more. More than his arms around her. More than his kisses. More than the feel of his warm breath against her skin. She wanted all of him... all that he had to give. All that she'd been denying herself.

"Nathan..." She threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him back up to her. He kissed her again, a deep passion-filled kiss that seemed to go on forever. He shifted, taking his weight on his right forearm as he raised his left hand to tangle in her hair. Finally breaking the kiss, Nathan lifted his head to meet her gaze, then allowed his eyes to touch upon each feature of her face. He tucked a damp tress of auburn hair behind her ear, then allowed his fingers to trace the contours of her cheek and jawline, eventually coming to rest at the juncture of her collarbone. He seemed mesmerized by the pulse which beat erratically there. Then his fingers slipped beneath the thin chain which she wore around her neck, reaching behind the curtain of russet hair to search for the St. Christopher medallion which he knew to be there but which had slipped around to the back of her neck. Locating it, he pulled it back to the front. He was surprised when something else came along with it. His Academy ring. He picked it up and turned it over in his fingers as though seeing it for the first time.

"Scott gave it to me," Kristin whispered. "He said you'd probably kill him... but he thought I should have it."

Nathan met her eyes for a moment. He started to say something but didn't seem to be able to get the words out. Finally he just let his head fall forward, his forehead resting against hers as his fingers closed around the medallion and the ring. Kristin felt the chain bite into her skin for just a few seconds before he relaxed his hold. When he finally spoke it was in a voice almost too low to hear.

"D'you know... of all the things that scared me... the one I was most frightened of was that I might never see you again." He lifted his head a few inches to focus on her eyes, so close to his own.

Kristin smoothed his hair back. She felt the tears burning at the back of her eyes and bit her lip to keep them from falling.

"These past weeks..." Bridger levered himself up a bit, taking his full weight off of her. He continued to finger his ring as it lay against her breast. "They've been hell..." A small smile curled his lips. "I didn't know it was possible to miss someone so much. And then... suddenly being in the same room with you... and not even being able to talk to you..." His fingers abandoned their scrutiny of the ring and moved instead to gently explore her lips. "Or touch you..."

Kristin's hand dropped to his cheek in a brief caress before moving to the back of his neck. She pulled his head back down to hers, her lips taking possession of his in a probing, almost desperate, kiss. Nathan's body covered hers again and they came together intimately... quickly and without pretense. Their bodies moved together... expressing what mere words couldn't. Each touch... each stroke... each thrust taking them ever closer to that magical destination they hungered for. And when they reached the summit time seemed to stand still... they teetered there on the edge, neither wanting it to end, before crashing back to earth.

Epilogue
'Taking Aim on the Future'
 

Kristin carefully turned in Nathan's embrace and glanced at the bedside clock. It was well past one in the morning. She pulled the sheet closer and settled against Nathan's side. She was tired. More tired than she'd ever been in her life. But it was a weariness now born of content. The last week had been a long one... and that hadn't ended with today. It'd been late when they'd left the shipyards behind them, much later than either had realized. A starless darkness had settled while they'd been there. She'd driven them home while Nathan had leaned back in his seat, his eyes closed. Her condo being closest on the route she'd chosen, Kristin had made the decision to head there instead of to Nathan's house and had pulled the car into her parking area shortly before nine. They'd come inside and she'd closed and locked the door... then turned into Nathan's arms. They'd just stood there for long while, in the darkened foyer, holding each other. Then they'd gone to bed. And if either one hadn't been worn out before . . . they both certainly were now.

She turned her head and glanced at Nathan's profile. He looked so peaceful as he slept. More so than he had the past few nights, when the pain in his chest and shoulder had tended to keep him awake even though the medication he'd been given was supposed to help him sleep. It had been a little better last night, his first night home from the hospital, but the thunderstorm and their early morning discourse hadn't helped. Even at that, he'd been up early that morning, unable to sleep even though she and Lucas had tippy-toed around trying not to make any more noise that was necessary.

Lucas. Kristin's glance snapped to the alarm clock again. Almost two... and she'd forgotten all about him. Pushing the sheet aside, she slipped from the bed and grabbed her robe before heading downstairs to the vid-phone. He had to have returned home from his outing with the guys and would undoubtedly be worried to find the house empty. She sat down and quickly tapped in the familiar number and waited for an answer. It wasn't long in coming. Two rings and the screen popped on and did its thing. Within seconds she was looking at Lucas. He stared at her, wide-eyed, taking note of the robe she was wearing and the soft light of the table lamp next to her, sure signs that she was calling from her condo, before breathing a soft sigh of relief.

"There you are. I got home and found all the doors standing wide open and no one around — ...is the Captain with you?"

Kristin nodded and gave him a reassuring — and apologetic — smile.

"Yes... I'm sorry, Lucas. We went out... and by the time we headed back it was already dark. So we came by my place instead of coming back there. We didn't mean to worry you."

Lucas nodded, put at ease by her soft explanation.

"That's okay... we only just got here about half an hour ago so I haven't really had that much time to worry. Tim and Miguel are still here... they hung around to make sure everything was all right."

"Well... they're certainly welcome to spend the night if you'd rather not be there alone," Kristin told him, making a mental note to thank the two young men the next time she saw them. She saw Lucas glance behind him then turn his attention back to the vid-screen.

"Yeah, they'll do that..." He tipped his head and grinned selflessly. "Not that I'm scared to be here alone or anything like that... I want you to know that. Its just that its pretty late and they really need their beauty sleep." His comment was met by an accompaniment of moans. Lucas flashed a smirk in their direction then turned his attention back to Kristin. He'd obviously released a few of his demons during the day. "So everything's all right?"

"Everything's fine, " she reassured him. "Get to bed and don't worry about it."

"If you're sure," he hesitated.

"I'm sure. Go to bed. We'll be back over in the morning."

Lucas smiled and nodded. With a silent 'bye' Kristin severed the connection.

Lucas stared at the blank vid-screen. He felt a little better after his conversation with the Doctor, but he was still worried. He glanced back at Ortiz and O'Neill.

"You think—"

"Lucas... if Doctor Westphalen says everything's okay... then everything's okay." Miguel moved to stand in front of Lucas. Placing his hands on his young friend's shoulders he gave him a little shake. "You know... you really worry too much for a kid." Garnering a small smile from Lucas, he gave him another shake and dropped his hands. He glanced toward the back of the house, toward the long porch and the sound of the waves coming from somewhere beyond. "Hey... what d'ya say we go for a swim before we pack it in?"

Tim pushed at his glasses and glared at him, a scowl on his face.

"At this time of night... morning?" he corrected, looking at his watch.

Miguel sighed.

"Just look at it this way, Tim... if we go for a swim we won't have to take baths."

"Oh..." O'Neill's eyebrows rose slightly as he thought about that. Suddenly the idea didn't sound half bad.
Besides — he looked down at his rumpled and sweaty clothes — Bridger probably wouldn't be very appreciative of any of them lounging around on his furniture in their present conditions. He looked up. The other two were already halfway out the door. With an 'oh well' expression and a shrug of his shoulders he followed in their wake.

Kristin did a little staring at the blank vid-screen herself, suddenly quite lost in thought, before giving a mental shake and pushing her chair back and snapping off the light. Finding herself extremely wide awake at two in the morning, she wandered into the kitchen and made herself a cup of hot tea. After stirring a hefty spoonful of sugar into the concoction, she leaned back against the counter, blowing on the tea occasionally to bring it down to a drinkable temperature. She glanced around the room. This was the first time she'd been back to her condo since the morning their ordeal had begun. One day shy of a week now. The coffee she'd made the other evening, when out of the blue Nathan had appeared on her doorstep, was still in the pot. Dried rings of brown on the inside of the carafe bore witness to how long it'd been standing there evaporating into the air. The two mugs she'd filled were in the sink, unwashed, along with a few dirty dishes from the following morning. She frowned. Only the dishes she'd dirtied. Nathan had apparently left the condo without even eating. She sighed. He really needed to take better care of himself.

Pushing herself away from the counter, Kristin ambled into the living room. She sat down in a chair by the window, her legs drawn up as she curled into its comforting embrace, her cup resting on her knee, and stared out the window. After a while her tea cooled by itself, forgotten. When eventually Kristin raised it to her lips and took a swallow she grimaced. It was ice cold.

Nathan awoke slowly, taking his time about it. Without even opening his eyes, the sounds round about him informed him that it was still early. Very early. Much earlier than he wanted to get up. He reached out with his left arm, feeling for Kristin next to him. She wasn't there. At least not close enough to touch. Which was extremely unlike her. Normally when they were in bed she managed to tangle her body up with his somehow or another, finding a way to stay close. Turning his head, Nathan opened his eyes a crack. It was still very dark in the room, but he could see that Kristin really wasn't there. He yawned, glancing to her bedside table and the clock. It was a little after five. A time at which he was used to getting up, which he figured was why he'd awakened. He lay there for a few minutes and eventually decided he wasn't going back to sleep. Mostly because he was curious about where Kristin might be. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, then just sat there for another few minutes. He felt sore all over. His arm felt like a dead weight. His shoulder throbbed. His eyes felt gritty. And he had to go to the bathroom. Actually, the more he sat there and thought about it, going to the bathroom took precedence over everything else. And once that was taken care of a couple aspirin seemed in order.

Once in the bathroom, and once the important business had been takencare of, he hazarded a glance in the mirror. He winced. He looked closer. He decided that maybe the eye did look a little better. Maybe. He needed a shave. Maybe that's why the eye appeared a little better. It blended in with the stubble on his face. But so far it'd hurt to shave so he'd tried to do that as sparingly as possible. Nathan sighed. He needed a haircut, too. Very tentatively he touched the top of his nose. Not too bad. Felt better than yesterday. To be perfectly honest he had to admit he felt better as a whole than he had the day before. Turning on the sink's cold water tap, he allowed it to run for a few seconds, then slapped cold water on his face. He got his hands wet again and ran his fingers through his hair to comb it back a little. Then he grabbed a towel and dried off, looking again in the mirror. He really did need that shave. But he needed those aspirin he'd promised himself just a little more.

Nathan opened the medicine cabinet and looked inside. He frowned. There wasn't a whole lot there. Especially when it came to the aspirin department. He shook his head sadly. The woman was a board certified MD and all she had in her medicine cabinet was a box of bandaids, a bottle of peroxide and a package of cotton swabs. He closed the cabinet door and looked around. He knew from experience that he wouldn't find what he was looking for in the linen cabinet but he looked inside anyway. He was right. No aspirin. There was a folded pair of his pajama pants, though, which he grabbed and put on. He closed the door and turned back toward the counter. That left the drawers. He really hated the thought of searching the drawers for aspirin. Not because he didn't want to search the drawers. He just knew, again from experience, that he wouldn't find what he was looking for. He opened the top one. Nope. Nothing there but extra toothpaste and soap. And one of his razors. He looked in the mirror again and rubbed his palm along his cheek. Maybe later. He closed that drawer and opened the second. Same luck. Just the normal bathroom stuff that women seemed to accumulate. The bottom drawer fared him no better. A blow drier, still in its original box and shrink-wrap packaging, and some of those body wash puffs. With a long drawn-out sigh Nathan closed that drawer, too. He knew he'd seen a bottle of aspirin somewhere in the house.

The ceramic counter-top was his last resort before he headed elsewhere. Again there was just the usual stuff. Hairbrush. A couple wash cloths. Makeup. Shampoo and bath powder and bath lotion and body lotion and every other type of lotion conceivable to the human mind. The female human mind anyway. Again Nathan shook his head. Women. He sure was glad he was a man and didn't need all this stuff. He moved a few bottles. Aha! Aspirin. He picked up the bottle and looked at it. Out of date. But by only a few months. He opened the bottle and tipped it to his hand. Two pills fell out. He stopped and considered. Two more followed. He swallowed the aspirin, without benefit of water, and almost gagged. But he survived. Guess he'd gotten used to swallowing pills lately. Recapping the bottle, he set it back where he'd found it. At least that way, if Kristin needed them, she'd know where they were. Heaven forbid he put them in the medicine cabinet.

Bridger got a little clumsy as he pulled his hand back. The bottle of aspirin tipped off the counter and ended up in the wastebasket. He cast a leery glance over the counter. He hated the thought of searching through the wastebasket even more than he'd hated the thought of searching through the drawers. Thankfully there wasn't much in it. He leaned down and grabbed the aspirin bottle. He thought. When he straightened and looked at what he held in his hand it wasn't the aspirin bottle. It appeared to be another one of those woman things. He looked at it curiously — a small container with some fine print on the back. He read what it said. Then he read it again. And again. Then he turned the container over and looked at the front. He frowned at what he saw there. Not an irate frown. Just a perplexed frown. He read the back of the package one more time. Then he peered into the wastebasket again. Finally he just straightened and stood there thoughtfully for a while. Contemplating. And considering. He wasn't exactly sure what it was he was considering... he was just considering. Well... maybe he was considering how to very tactfully cover all the bases on this one before he went and stuck his foot in his mouth and made himself look like a complete fool. Eventually he decided he'd thought about it long enough and he slowly stuck the little container in his pajama pant pocket. He decided it was about time to head downstairs. But before he did that he grabbed the aspirin bottle again and quickly swallowed a couple more.

Kristin yawned sleepily. Maybe it was time to go back to bed. She could probably look forward to at least another couple hours of sleep before she really had to get up. She tipped her teacup to one side and studied the last dark brown sip in the bottom of the cup. She didn't know that she particularly cared for any more of the cold stuff but she swallowed it down anyway. Then she pulled herself out of the warm cocoon of her chair and headed back to the kitchen. She was standing at the sink, her back to the kitchen door as she washed out her cup, when Nathan finally made it that far. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the doorjamb and watched her. She placed her clean cup in the drainboard to the side of the sink, then stood there for a few seconds, eyeing the two unwashed mugs and the few other dishes which were sitting there. Abruptly deciding that she wasn't interested in doing dishes at five in the morning, the grabbed a dishtowel and dried her hands. It was as she was doing this that she glanced up and caught sight of Nathan's reflection in the window over the sink. She turned around in surprise, the dishtowel still in her hands.

"Nathan... I didn't hear you get up."

He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

"The way I was turning the bathroom upside down looking for aspirin its a wonder I didn't wake up the entire neighborhood."

Kristin returned his smile, then without turning around reached up and opened the cabinet door immediately above her right shoulder. Sitting there in all its glory, nestled amongst a couple bottles of vitamins, was the elusive bottle of aspirin. Nathan grinned a little and shrugged.

"Oh well... I found some upstairs." He didn't bother to tell her they'd expired two months previously. Apparently he didn't have to. She made a face, tucking her hands into the pockets of her robe as she leaned back against the counter.

"Surely you didn't take those."

"Yeah..." He frowned suddenly. "They were aspirin weren't they?"

"Oh, yes... but they're probably about as worthless as candy by this time."

Nathan chuckled.

"Well... they did almost end up in the trash... but I managed to fish 'em back out."

He stared at her unblinkingly as he said this. Kristin stared right back, wondering why he was staring. She frowned. He kept on staring. She started to get a little nervous but didn't know why. Maybe it had something to do with the rather strange expression he had on his face.

"Is something wrong?" she finally ventured.

Nathan shook his head.

"No... why?"

"I don't know... you just seemed to be looking at me rather oddly."

Nathan didn't say anything. He dropped his gaze from hers and stared at the floor for a minute... wondering exactly how he should go about this.

"Nathan?" Kristin prodded.

He glanced up at her then away as he seemed to take great interest in everything else in the kitchen but her.

"Have you seen Cyndi lately?"

Kristin blinked. Now it was her turn to wear the perplexed frown. Talk about a conversational change of pace.

"I talked to her the other evening. After — " She shrugged hesitantly. "She would've been here but had trouble getting a flight. She'll probably be out in the next week or so... why?"

Nathan shrugged from his position against the doorjamb.

"I don't know..." He'd taken to looking at the floor again. "I guess I've just been sort of out of the loop for the last month and a half where you're concerned." He finally looked at her directly. "I thought maybe she'd been out to see you."

Kristin slowly shook her head, confused as to why he'd pick this moment to ask about her daughter.

"Soooo..." Nathan straightened, then moved to lean against the opposite side of the doorway. He cleared his throat. "Um... had any other company?"

Kristin looked closely at him, wondering if shock had finally begun to set in. Pulling her hands from her pockets, she struck a pose similar to his, arms folded as she leaned back against the counter and stared across the kitchen at him. Delayed reaction maybe?

"Like who?" she asked. She slowly shook her head and continued without waiting for a response. "You're acting very strangely, Nathan." When he continued to look at her without saying anything she again shook her head. This time it was an exasperated shake. To match her voice. "Noooo..." Kristin drawled, "...no company. Male or female." She added this last touch a bit ominously. Bridger had no desire to tread those waters.

"I didn't mean that... I know that." He rubbed at his forehead as though he had a headache. He didn't. Not yet anyway. It just gave him something to do while he thought. Or tried to think. He looked at Kristin again. She hadn't changed her position. Hadn't moved one iota. And he didn't particularly care for the expression in her eyes. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean anything like that," he repeated.

Nathan relaxed when she appeared to relent a little. He rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that had been rubbing his forehead, and more out of the necessity to have something to do with it, stuck his other hand into his pajama pocket. His fingers closed around the little container he'd stuck in there. Without much conscious thought at all he pulled it out and slowly held it up.

"Soooo... I guess that means this belongs to you."

Kristin stared at what was in Nathan's hand. For a full minute she didn't move. Then, one arm still folded across her abdomen, she lifted the other and began to nervously chew at her thumb nail. For some reason she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the small box he was holding up... the one the pregnancy test kit had come in. The one she'd bought a couple weeks ago because she'd just had to know... the one that had resided on the bathroom counter for days before she'd gotten up the nerve to use it. The one that should've gone out with this week's trash...

"Kris?"

Nathan's voice prompted her to finally glance up. The gaze she directed at him was obviously distracted. Finally she gave up her nail biting and stuffed her hands back into the pockets of her robe. She nodded in response to his earlier question. Then her eyes followed his hand as he stepped into the kitchen and set the container on the breakfast table.

"Is this why you've been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been avoiding you, Nathan."

"Okay then..." Bridger ran his fingers through his hair, then folded his arms over his chest, "...is this why you decided we needed some time apart?"

Kristin released a pent-up sigh and brushed past him into the small foyer.

"Kristin—"

Up the stairs and halfway into the bedroom, she paused and spun around at the sound of Nathan's voice. He was right behind her.

"No! That's not the reason— ...and you didn't even ask me."

Nathan frowned in confusion.

"Ask you what?"

"If I was."

"If you—" He rubbed at his forehead again. The headache was definitely beginning to put in an appearance. He had no idea what she— Oh.

"Oh," he said. He dropped his hands to his sides... then he folded them across his chest... then he clasped them together behind his back. He didn't know why he felt so nervous.

"So..." His voice, to give him credit, was extremely soft and extremely calm. "Are you?"

After a moment Kristin nodded, her eyes searching his. She sighed again.

"Nathan, I've tried to tell you..." she whispered. "You don't know how many times I've tried to tell you. And not just in the past few days. You don't know how many times I've picked up the phone to call you... and..." She shrugged helplessly. "This isn't the way I wanted it to be... this isn't the way I wanted you to find out."

Bridger took the few steps that brought him to her. His hands framed her face and he leaned his forehead against hers. He felt her release a trembling breath. He kissed her briefly, then dropped his hands and slid his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a close embrace against his chest as he whispered soothing words in her ear. His chin rested against her temple as she slid her arms around his waist. His arms tightened around her as she dropped her head to his bare shoulder. He closed his eyes and rested his chin against the top of her head. And told her everything would all right. And held her. For a long time.

"So why?" he finally asked.

Kristin didn't attempt to misunderstand Nathan's question. He still wanted to know why she hadn't wanted to see him. She opened her eyes and stared toward the window. How did she explain it to him? Her reasons at the time had seemed to sincere... so real. She pushed back a few inches so that she could see his face. A small smile curved her lips as she raised a tender hand to his cheek.

"I love you..."

"I love you, too..." Bridger answered back, reaching up to push a stray curl back behind her ear.

Kristin pulled further back, all the way out of his arms, and moved to look out the window for a few moments. Then she turned around, her back to it as she looked at him.

"Because of all the reasons I told you at the time..." she finally said, "...but mostly because of that big wall you seem to put between us all the time."

Nathan frowned.

"Kris—"

"Nathan..." she gently interrupted whatever it was he was going to say, knowing that if she didn't tell him what she had to tell him now, she might never get up the nerve to do it again. "It always seems like there's a part of you that you're holding back... a part of you that you don't want me to..." she shrugged, "...I don't know.. to share in I guess." She sighed and wrapped her arms about herself. "Yes, I think you're working too hard... yes, I think you spend too much time with your boat... and yes, sometimes I feel like you're taking me for granted. But I can learn to live with all that... if you'd just stop pulling down the shutters every time I get close to that wall. If you'd just let me climb over it once in a while..."

Bridger just stared at her... forever it seemed... as he slowly digested her words. Finally a tiny smile began to form. He shrugged a little hesitantly.

"Maybe I could try climbing over every once in a while myself."

Kristin returned his smile.

"Or maybe... we could just try meeting half way?"

Nathan nodded, his face reflective.

"You also told me I needed to get my priorities straight."

Kristin nodded. She knew she'd been a little harsh with that one.

"Those weeks when we didn't see each other..." Bridger stared past her shoulder out the window, "...I'm not sure that I did. If the fact that I'm still working too hard and that I still spend too much time with the boat mean anything... then I'm sure I didn't." He swallowed and met her eyes. "But if I didn't get them straight before... I did this past week."

Kristin nodded and offered him a smile.

"I think we both did."

Nathan's gaze was very serious as he continued to look at her.

"I want to marry you."

Kristin smiled.

"I've already said yes... there's not much you can do about it now."

Bridger moved to stand in front of her. He rested one hand on her hip and allowed the fingers of the other to slide gently over her stomach.

"And crazy as it sounds... I want to have a baby."

"That's a physiological impossibility," Kristin informed him seriously.

"Fine... let me rephrase that then. I want us to have this baby..." He stared into her eyes. "I want you to have my baby."

"Are you sure?" Kristin whispered.

Nathan nodded.

"Oh yeah." He pulled her close, his arms tightening around her as her head rested beneath his chin. His fingers tangled in her hair in a soothing caress. "I want to watch it happen... every day... every week. Every month." His breath was warm against her ear. "I want to watch you grow. I want to feel him inside you. I want to be able to hold you... and take care of you. Both of you."

Kristin smiled against his shoulder. She tipped her head back to look into his face.

"Him?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just a figure of speech," Nathan said, smiling down at her.

Kristin lifted her hand to touch his cheek, her fathomless gaze meeting his.

"You know, fella... I think you've got a deal."

Nathan dipped his lips to hers for a brief but satisfying kiss.

"But right now..." he whispered against her lips, "...right now all I want to do is lay down on your bed..." his lips brushed hers, "...and make love to you."

Kristin pulled away from him and took his hand, backing up as she led him unerringly to the place in question.

"Like I said..." she murmured, her arms going around his neck as lowered her to the bed and followed her down, "...you've got a deal."

And words were no longer necessary.