Galley Nights - Alethia - Sea Patrol (TV) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Kate walked into the galley...and pulled up short.

Buffer sat on the floor, sprawled against one of the metal cabinets in his pyjamas—shorts and a white singlet—a mug of tea cupped in his hands, though he didn't seem to be drinking it. Instead he stared off, sightless.

Kate ached for him. She couldn't imagine what he was feeling—learning his mum was at the end, so distracted by it that he missed Spider and Bomber falling overboard, the guilt over that. Not to mention, he must have been dealing with his mum's cancer diagnosis for a while, never letting on to anyone. Once again, she wished he'd talked to her. He didn't have to go through it all alone.

She moved to him, only belatedly getting his attention, Buffer looking up with a blink like he hadn't clocked her entrance. It was unusual for him—always so aware—but then, today had been rather traumatic. He nodded slightly, then looked away, like he was trying to hide something.

She slid to the floor beside him, her own sleep pants and tank making it easy, and nudged warm against his shoulder. He leaned into her a little. A victory of sorts. "Can't sleep?" she asked, keeping it soft.

"It was a day," he said after a while, the exhaustion in his voice. He'd been up since morning watch. He had to be feeling it.

"Yeah," she agreed. She nudged him again. "I heard you got another call from the doctor?" When they'd argued about his mum, he'd asked just to focus on rescuing Spider and Bomber, but they'd done that, so Kate figured she could ask again.

Buffer studied his tea, swallowing hard. "He said she went peaceful."

Grief swamped Kate, Pete stating it so plainly in that way of his, like losing his mother wasn't a life-changing thing. "Oh, Pete," she said, leaning into him, curling one arm under his, as much of an embrace as she thought he'd allow.

He didn't pull away. "I'm alone now," he said dully, still speaking to his tea. "Mum was the last, so now it's just—just me." His voice caught on that.

She made a protesting noise. "You have us."

He scoffed. "Right. Sure, I do. X," he said, pointing out the hypocrisy of it, like how could she say that when they didn't even use first names?

She squeezed his arm. "It can be Kate," she offered, quiet. "But I meant what I said earlier. You've got to tell people stuff. That doesn't make you a welfare case, or whatever that was, it makes you part of our lives. You have us, but you have to let us have you."

Buffer—Pete, she supposed—looked over at her then, meeting her eyes, his own dark with grief. He searched her gaze for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Kate," he said, like an agreement. He looked back down to his tea, something hollow in him. "You know what I realized? If I died tomorrow, there'd be no one to give my flag."

The ache of it was breathtaking, a little boy lost. Instinctively, Kate reached her free hand for him, cupping his chin, wanting his attention.

It startled him enough to get it, Pete looking over, gaze shadowed. "You're not going to die tomorrow," she said, soothing. "And there's all kinds of family."

"There is," he agreed, low, searching her face. "But it's not the same."

"That's true, it's not the same. But there's the family you're born to and the family you choose. Even if you were taken from us tomorrow, Pete, we'd still feel the loss. Regardless of flags or ceremonies or pieces of paper."

His expression cracked, Pete setting his jaw and nodding quickly, looking down again.

Kate made some wounded noise and reached for him then, turning into him, her hand going to the back of his neck as she pulled him into a hug, awkward on the floor as they were, but necessary. Pete tucked his forehead to her shoulder, shaking a little, and Kate just held him, aching for the storm of grief she could not lessen.

Eventually, after long moments, he pulled away, wiping at his tears.

Kate let him, sitting back slightly, still curled around him, but giving him some space.

"She said—she said I'd be okay without her," he offered, small.

"You will be, Pete," she said, knowing it was true. "You'll be brilliant."

***

Kate sat with him for an hour, until his eyelids grew heavy and she convinced him to try for sleep. He went, Kate heading for her rack, too.

In the morning, she turned as he joined the bridge. His eyes met hers, a little nod there, a softening. Kate tipped her head, letting her regard show before she turned back to the sea.

It was a start.

***

Kate sat on the galley deck in her coveralls, mug of chamomile in hand, staring at nothing. At everything. Her back still ached from the force of the gunshot, even with the Kevlar stopping the bullet. Everything ached.

She felt presence beside her and looked over just as Pete sat, nudging her shoulder, a warm comfort at her side, casual and disarming in his pyjamas. "Can't sleep?" he asked, a deliberate echo of her words, she thought. It was an offer, she realized. Pete asking her to reach out just as she had done to him.

"I should be dead," she said without thinking.

She felt Pete stiffen beside her. "How's that?"

"The mercenary—he had me. I played dead to fool him, facedown in the water. He came over to check, but he should've just shot me in the head. He could have done, easily. Every second I thought he would." Kate swallowed against the horror of it, the squelch of his footsteps echoing through the water, getting closer, even as she pretended. Convinced every second that it would be her last.

Pete's hand curled into hers, squeezing hard, grounding her. "He didn't," he said, low and soothing. "I reckon he didn't want the noise to draw us. But whatever the reason, he didn't. It wasn't your time today."

Kate took a shaky breath. "That was really close," she admitted, feeling the sting in her eyes as more tears leaked out. She'd cried too much today, but couldn't seem to help it.

He turned to her and pulled her into his chest, arm holding her close. "I know, but you're okay, Kate," he whispered into her hair.

Kate breathed against his chest and let his singlet soak up her tears. Maybe if Pete believed it enough, it would be true.

***

And then it became a thing. Once or twice a week, they would meet up in the galley in the small hours, when everyone else was asleep, and just...sit. Talk. Share company. They didn't mention it during the day, they didn't even talk about when it would be, but Kate could just...tell. By his bearing, a look in his eye, something. Whatever it was, she just knew when she'd find him in the galley. She was always right.

Tonight they both wore their pyjamas, Kate liking the warmth of his bare arm against hers. "What was that business with Rob today, anyway?" she asked.

Pete made an annoyed noise. "He's taking shortcuts. Doing things mostly-right, but not all the way. Spider got snagged in a line he'd coiled wrong. That's how you lose a hand. sh*t's not on."

"So you decided to have him polish the floor of austere with a toothbrush?" she asked, dubious.

His lips curved up. "Yeah. It's about precision."

She nodded sagely. "Oh, precision," she mocked—

Which was when the galley door swung open and Swain stepped in, wearing sleep shorts and a singlet, clearly having come from bed. At sight of Kate and Pete sitting on the deck in their pyjamas, he froze. "...um. Hi?" he tried, blinking at them like they didn't make sense.

Kate wondered what this looked like to him—the X and the buffer sitting close, drinking tea at 0200, the ship asleep around them. The reality was nothing scandalous, of course, but Swain's expression gave her pause.

Pete just raised his mug in toast, like nothing was strange about any of it. "Evening, Swaino."

"Sorry, I was just—" He gestured to the fridge, like he needed permission.

"Anything you eat at this hour's going straight to that gut," Pete warned.

Swain made a face at him. "We can't all be cut like Greek gods, you wanker." Then he remembered Kate. "Sorry, ma'am."

She waved a hand, amused. "It's after hours, don't mind me."

Swain looked from her to Pete then. "What are you two doing up?" he asked, casual, opening the fridge and pulling out the milk.

"I'm learning about precision," Kate deadpanned.

Pete huffed a laugh. "Cheeky."

Kate grinned at him. Across the galley, Swain had opened the milk, but paused to stare at them. "So not the first time this has happened," he decided.

Some odd kind of feeling squirmed in her gut at Swain's expression, but Pete just flashed a smile. "Brilliant deduction, mate. And oi, use a glass, would you?" Pete stood, getting one for him. "Isn't marriage supposed to civilize you?"

Swain took the glass, amused. "I'll tell Sal her lessons didn't take," he drawled.

Kate snorted. "Good luck with that."

Swain's gaze slid between them again, but Pete just shook his head, amused, like nothing was amiss.

Because nothing was amiss, of course. Though Swain's looks made Kate wonder what he was taking from this.

It was enough to spur her to standing. "Right. I'm for bed. Gentlemen," she said, a farewell.

"Ma'am," they chorused, nodding her off.

Kate left them to it, not at all wondering about their conversation after she left.

Not at all.

***

Another night, another mug of tea. Kate took a sip with a sigh. "Dan was making eyes at Chelsea today."

Pete nodded. "Indeed he was and I can't tell you how overjoyed I am. For policing other people's dicks is my very favorite thing."

She made a sympathetic noise. "Any consolation, you're quite good at it."

"What every bloke yearns to hear," he drawled, eyes sparkling.

"I can talk to Chelsea," she offered, kind.

He shrugged. "No offense, Kate, but it's better coming from me."

"Why's that?"

Pete looked at her obviously. "Because the X scares the bejeezus out of people."

"Oi. Like you're so cuddly," she accused.

He looked at her all innocent. "Excuse me, I am a lovable roguish taskmaster," he said, one hand going to his heart. "You're like bringing an RPG to a knife fight."

Kate couldn't help her laugh. "Now I think I should be offended."

"Not hardly. I value some firepower, thank you. But selectively." The easy way he said it slipped unexpected warmth through her. "Consider the juniors handled."

Kate nodded. If Pete said it, it was good as gold.

***

"Did you tie Spider and Pearson together with a rope?" Kate asked as soon as she stepped through the galley door.

Pete looked over, his quirked grin saying he absolutely did and was rather proud of it. "Does that sound like me?"

"Evasion," she said lightly, calling him on it as she sat next to him. Pete was getting better about answering her rather than dodging, but he still did it sometimes. It must be some kind of protective thing with officers, Kate was convinced.

His expression went chagrined. "I bloody well did tie them together—as they deserved—and it worked, I might add."

Kate made a proceed gesture. "Oh, this should be good."

"We're three weeks at sea and they're sniping at each other, getting in each other's way, refusing to be a team. I reckoned it was time for some exposure therapy."

"By leashing them to each other like dogs?"

"Yeah," he said obviously, like he saw nothing wrong with this. "Why, how do you discipline the mids?"

"I make them write all the pointless reports."

Pete brightened, pointing at her: "Ah. You just admitted there are pointless reports." He seemed delighted by this.

She went stern. "The XO believes every report to be a vital spoke in the larger wheel that is the Royal Australian Navy," she intoned.

"Yeah, I've heard she's into tortured metaphors," he drawled.

Kate huffed a laugh. "And death by paperwork. I believe in punishment of the mind."

"Remind me to stay on your good side," he shot back. "Me? I get 'em at the guts level. If they're gonna be prickly with each other, have fun being joined at the hip. Plus, it's a show for the rest of us."

"Oh, I see. You're just entertaining yourself."

Pete smirked. "Two things can be true at once."

She shook her head at him, fond. "It worked, then? Spider and Pearson are getting on now?"

He shot her a smug look. "They're even going rock climbing together."

"Well, let's hope you didn't introduce them to a rope fetish," she said, dry.

Pete made a shocked noise. "I am scandalized. How has your pure, clean officer mind been so basely corrupted?"

"I have unfortunate news about officers' clubs," she informed him, prim.

He shook his head, mournful. "It's always the repressed ones..."

Kate laughed and swatted him playfully.

His eyes sparkled. "I only speak the truth."

***

Kate headed down the corridor, running into a crush of crew on their way out, gathered around the stairs. Pete, Nikki, Swain, Charge, ET, Bomber, and Spider all clumped together, bright in their civvies, sea bags in hand, the mood light.

"Yo, Buff, what are you doing for leave?" Spider called. "Lemme guess: going fishing," he said with a flicker of his tongue to make clear he did not mean the kind in water.

"Gross, Spider," Bomber muttered, punching him in the arm. Swain, Charge, ET, and Nikki all nodded, united in their long-suffering disapproval.

"I'm getting the hell away from you lot, I can tell you that," Pete shot back, co*cky and superior.

It was met with a chorus of protests. "Ouch, Buff," ET said as Charge protested, "You know you love us, Buff."

"Daddy is taking a break and doesn't want to hear word one from any of you," Pete said, charming, but also dead serious.

It got another wave of reaction, Swain offering, "What's funny is you reckon you're daddy."

Pete frowned. "Who else then?"

Swain's knowing eyes swung to Kate. "I reckon the X has that honor."

And that got the loudest jeers of all, Spider crowing, "Buff, you're the mum," like he had some kind of death wish.

Kate just smirked. "Well, I'm certainly not your mum." As they laughed, she hooked her thumb toward the door. "Everybody out. Enjoy your leave. Do not get arrested."

A chorus of laughs and, "Yes, X!" floated back as they all departed, chattering excitedly. All but Pete, who lingered behind, amused, but also something else. Something Kate wondered at.

"What are you doing for your leave?" she asked, once the others had all gone.

His amusem*nt drained away, replaced by something hurting. "Driving to Townsville. The solicitor needs me to sign some papers. And I have to take care of mum's things," he added, quiet.

It ached, a reminder that while he did his duties, as precise as ever, he was also making arrangements. And grieving all the while. "Monica going with you?" she asked, glad he'd have someone along for it.

Pete's expression kind of blanked for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Nah."

Kate blinked. "But—did you break up?" He hadn't mentioned that. It seemed like he might have.

"No, I'll see her when I get back." Seeing Kate's expression, he added: "It's not like that between us. We're just...light. Easy, you know?"

Kate stared at him in amazement. "Does she know what you're doing?" she asked, wondering if he was keeping things to himself again.

He shrugged. "She knows."

Well, that was...Kate didn't even know what except it sent a rush of something like horror through her. Who could let someone they cared for go through all that alone? Because they were "light" and "easy?" What even was that?

Kate swallowed it all down to nod at him, accepting. "Mind some company?" she asked, not thinking about it.

Pete stilled, staring at her for a long moment. "I reckon you have better things to do than go through a dead woman's flat."

"Can't think of anything I'd rather do than be with a friend," she said, soft. She'd had plans to catch up with some mates, catch up on sleep, and catch up on reports, all of which paled in comparison to the relief that flickered over Pete's expression.

"Company might be nice."

***

Which was how Kate found herself in the passenger seat of Pete's car as they drove the four plus hours to Townsville. They planned to stay the night, so Kate brought a bag with her, stowed alongside Pete's in the boot. He wore a black collared shirt, dark jeans, and dark boots—formal for him—and was quiet on the drive. Kate was glad she'd opted for a more sedate sundress—dark green and tea length. She matched his quiet, wanting to be a support, not a bother.

Their first stop was at an office building, Kate looking at him curiously.

Pete sighed. "I'm to meet with the solicitor. Mum had been working with him before she went, but I guess there's still things to sign."

Kate nodded. "There always are. Do you want to go alone?" she asked, not knowing the boundaries here.

"You don't have to come," he offered, like he was determined to give her the out. "But you can."

Kate reached for his hand, clasping it with her own, realizing that he wouldn't ask, so she had to offer. She had to define the parameters. "Tell me if you want to do something on your own. Otherwise, I'm with you," she said, firm.

Brown eyes searched hers, endlessly grateful. "Thanks, Kate. I don't know anything about doing all this. When dad died, mum took care of everything. So if I'm mucking something up, by all means, let me know. I just want it done."

She nodded, squeezing his hand again. "Then let's get it done."

***

The solicitor was a kindly balding man in his fifties called Sullivan who greeted Pete with a handshake and fatherly pat to his shoulder. "I'm so sorry again, Pete."

"Thank you, sir. This is Kate McGregor, a friend," he introduced.

Sullivan shook her hand, nodding in greeting. "Pleasure." He gestured them into chairs before his desk, strewn with papers, what seemed like organized chaos. He took his seat behind it, picking up a file. "I know you want to be done with it, so I won't take up your time. Today I just need a couple signatures for formality's sake. The first is to officially nominate us as your authorized legal representative. That will allow us to deal with the various government agencies on behalf of the estate." He set a form before Pete.

Pete frowned as he scanned it. "I thought you already were."

Sullivan went a shade gentle. "The authority of all authorized representatives ends at the time of death. Since you're the named executor, you need to reappoint us. As I said, it's a formality."

Pete nodded, taking a pen and signing. Sullivan collected that and set out the second form. "The other is an application for a grant of probate from the Supreme Court of Queensland. That basically says the court recognizes that the will is legally valid, which will let you distribute its assets. Since your mum fully updated her will before she passed, there should be no problem, we just have to go through the process."

Pete nodded again and signed the second form, handing it back to Sullivan. "How long does all this take?"

"Your mum's estate is straightforward, so I'd say it can be finalized within six to twelve months. Have you decided what to do with her flat?"

Pete shrugged. "I don't have much use for a flat in Townsville, so sell it, I reckon."

Kate frowned, speaking up: "Are there tax implications for that?"

Pete looked over at her, his expression saying he hadn't even considered that. Sullivan tipped his head to her in a kind of respect. "The sale of real estate is tax free if completed within two years."

Kate looked to Pete. "You could also keep it as a rental property. It would be another income stream."

"What, like be some kind of landlord?" he asked her, dubious.

Sullivan looked to Pete at that. "There are property managers who handle the day-to-day. I can recommend a few for you to meet with, if you like. There's no tax benefit to any of that, however. Rental income would be taxed as regular income going forward."

"And what would I get out of all this hassle?" Pete asked, still dubious.

Kate shot him an obvious look. "Well, money. Property is how people build wealth."

"That I can spend with all of my free time," he drawled, quirking a wry smile.

"Who knows? Maybe you quit the Navy and become a man of leisure," she shot back.

Pete snorted. "That'll be the day. This is where we see the distinction between the worker set," he said gesturing to himself, "and the fancy set," he finished, gesturing to them. "I'm sure you're right, but I can tell you I do not want to spend a single second of my time on this Earth dealing with any of that. I'd like to sell the flat to someone who wants to live there and be done with it."

Sullivan nodded. "I understand. Your mum was very responsible. You should come away with a tidy sum regardless."

Pete smiled, tight. "I'd rather have mum back."

Sullivan softened. "I know, son. My condolences again. I'll be in touch."

***

Kate followed Pete out of the office building, taking him in as he paused out in the bright sunlight. He had faint circles under his eyes, his cheekbones seeming more hollow, like he hadn't slept.

Noticing her regard, Pete looked over, his eyes glinting in appreciation. "I didn't even think of taxes."

"I don't want to overstep."

"You didn't. I'm glad for the help."

She nodded, clasping his hand again and squeezing tight.

Pete smiled, a tiny pale thing. "Well, I say it's time for food."

***

Pete took her to a local café, what seemed like a neighborhood sort of place, given the way the elderly waitress clucked and smiled at him when he walked in, welcoming.

"Peter," she said, coming around to give him a hug. "It's good to see you. I heard about your mum. I'm so sorry."

He hugged her back briefly. "Thanks, Wendy. This is my friend, Kate," he said, nodding to her in introduction.

"Hi," Kate said, suddenly realizing that she was going to get unexpected insight into Pete. This was Pete out in the real world, away from the Navy. Where people called him Peter.

"Hello, dear," Wendy said with an intrigued sort of smile. But then it was gone and she gestured around at the empty tables. "You've missed the lunch rush, so sit where you like."

Pete nodded in thanks and took a table by the large front window, pulling Kate's chair out for her. She raised an eyebrow at him as she sat. "Really?" she asked, dry.

His lips quirked as he took his own seat. "We're in mum's territory now, where her son Peter is a good boy with good manners, ever the gentleman," he drawled, eyes sparkling.

"What's funny is you actually are, while also being the blind bastard who leads people into poor choices and regret," she said with a smile.

"I have layers," he deadpanned.

Kate laughed just as Wendy returned with menus, leaving them to it. As Kate took in the menu, she couldn't help but indulge her curiosity. "You come here a lot?"

"Used to, when I'd visit mum. She was here all the time. Her place is just around the corner." He nodded to the menu. "The salads are decent."

Kate warmed; she had just been wondering that. She nodded in thanks just as Wendy was back with a notepad and pen, looking to Pete fondly. "Fish and chips for you, love?"

"And a four-ex, thanks." Apparently they were drinking.

Wendy nodded, scribbling, then looked to Kate. "And you?"

"I'll have the salmon salad. Do you have a house wine?"

"Sure thing. White?"

"Perfect."

Wendy collected the menus and was off again, but before either of them could speak, a new voice interrupted: "Why, Peter Tomaszewski, I thought that was you."

Kate turned to find a petite woman just stepping in from outside—in her sixties, dark hair gone mostly white, with a kind face.

Pete stood to hug her, mildly comical given he stood over six feet and she maybe hit five. "Good to see you, Mrs. Lucas." As usual, he gestured to Kate, introducing her: "My friend, Kate."

Mrs. Lucas nodded at her and smiled, something relieved in it. "Oh, I'm so glad you're with a friend. You're going through your mum's place?"

Pete nodded, still awkwardly standing, which Mrs. Lucas seemed to realize. "Sit, sit, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to say how lovely the memorial was. A fitting tribute to Anna."

Kate blinked at that news as Pete inclined his head. "Glad you think so. And thanks for helping with her place while I've been at sea."

"Of course, of course. Anything I can do." She cupped his cheek, expression going sad. "How are you?" she asked, like she knew he'd been having a rough go.

Some kind of vulnerability flashed in his expression, what he'd been hiding from everyone, but seemingly couldn't with her. "Oh, you know."

"Yeah," she said, going a little misty. She patted his cheek lightly, pulling them out of the moment. "Well, you need me, you give me a bell, yeah?"

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, a soft note to it.

Mrs. Lucas nodded, turning to Kate. "Lovely to meet you, dear. Take care of this one, hey. He's a good boy."

Kate smiled, appreciating that Pete had people who cared in his life, even if distant. "I'm trying my best."

"Yes, he doesn't make it easy," Mrs. Lucas said, dry.

"Oi," Pete protested, light.

"Oh, you know it's true," she said with an impish smile, then waved and took her leave.

Pete smiled slightly after her, fondness there. When he looked back at Kate, his sadness was hidden again, kind of impressively.

Kate considered, wondering at something Mrs. Lucas had said: "When did you have a memorial service?"

He shrugged, for all the world like it was no big deal. "Our last forty-eight. It was casual. Mum knew she was going, so she said her goodbyes, didn't want a big to-do after the fact."

"I would have come if I'd known," Kate said, quiet, thinking about what Mrs. Lucas said, about how Pete didn't make it easy.

Pete stared at her, that vulnerability flashing again, before he locked it down. "I wanted to do it on my own. It was just mum's friends and their families, all telling me how proud she was."

Kate reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "So long as you know you don't have to do it on your own."

He nodded, his eyes seeming so wide. "Thanks, Kate."

Wendy returned with their drinks then, Kate pulling her hand back to smile in appreciation. She lifted her wine glass in a toast, clinking it to his beer. "To Anna," she said, soft.

Pete smiled, sad. "To mum."

***

Kate kept things light at lunch, asking him about the times he'd come to the café, nudging him into happy stories. He was right, the salad was decent, Kate realizing how hungry she was. She tried to split the bill, but Pete instantly shut it down, saying, "I'll never hear the end of it from Wendy." So Kate relented, following him back to his car and the short drive to his mum's flat. He parked in the carport and got out, grabbing their bags.

The light mood from lunch got heavier as they headed for the porch, bags slung over their shoulders. Still, Pete didn't hesitate as he unlocked the door, gesturing for her to precede him. Ever the gentleman.

The flat was nicely appointed, small, but well oriented and tidy. The living area opened the space, a gray couch and chairs, low tables clustered around, shelving along the wall filled with books and photos. The kitchen sat beyond, with a small nook for eating. Beyond that were two bedrooms, the master with its ensuite and a guest room and bath. In back, a glass door opened onto a covered patio, the hint of bright patio furniture peeking through. Inside was all light wood, grays, and navies, with a pop of dark red here and there—accent pillows or frames.

There were already open boxes strewn about, like someone had started the moving process, but got interrupted. There were also obviously open spaces where things had already been taken away—spots on the shelves or an open area in the corner where something once sat. Kate looked a question at Pete.

He stared at the flat, face blank. "Toward the end, mum started going through her things. Getting rid of stuff. I told her not to because it felt like giving in, but she always knew best. Then, after, Mrs. Lucas and some of her other friends came and binned the perishables, took her plants off to good homes, that sort of thing."

Kate nodded. She watched Pete as he set his bag against the entryway wall, then took hers and did the same. He turned on the aircon and took off his boots, looking like he was steeling himself against it all. Kate followed suit, kicking off her sandals as he stood and explained: "There's an estate service that'll take care of most of it—the furniture and the like. They'll sell what they can, donate the rest. I just—anything I want to keep, I should take with me."

"Of course," she said, brisk. "Where should I start?"

He shot her a grateful look, then nodded to the shelves. "Take a look through there. I want the photos and I should look at anything with writing on it. I'll take the guest room."

"Done."

***

Kate stacked the framed photos, smiling a little at those featuring Pete. Pictured beside his mum, it was clear he got her coloring, her kind eyes. An older photo showed them with Pete's dad, from whom he'd gotten the chin and cheekbones. Pete was a nice blend of the two, seeming happy, all twinkling eyes and mischievous smile.

She flipped through the books, read but not annotated, so she set them aside in stacks, to make it clear which she'd checked. As she did, she noted Pete coming and going from the guest room, deep in files, which he collected in one of the boxes.

Soon enough the shelves were bare, the frames on the coffee table, where she noticed a larger, heavier book. Opening it revealed its secrets—a photo album, the early pages filled with old black-and-white photos.

"Pete," she called, already smiling.

He wandered out from the guest room, his lips curving up at her expression. "Uh-oh," he drawled.

"Come look," she said, sinking onto the couch, bringing the album to her lap.

Pete sat beside her, angling his head to look over, so she scooted closer, leaning against him so they could both see. He took her weight, sinking back into the couch, her back propped against his side and a bit of his chest, the two of them curled up together as they both took in the photos. She could feel him breathing, his warmth comforting as she showed him the early pages, starting with the black-and-white photos. "These are your rellies?"

He nodded, pointing at an old-timey portrait of a couple not smiling. "Dad's mum and dad." And then on the opposite page, "And mum's."

Kate looked from them to Pete and back again. "You look like your grandad."

"They always said I favored that side."

Kate flipped pages. Like this, you could see the progression of time, the few photos of his grandparents melding into the few of his parents. "Mum when she was young," he said, pointing her out. "And dad."

The photos turned to color and became more plentiful. Kate paused on his parents' wedding portrait for a moment before turning the page to find the tiniest Pete, cradled in his mum's arms.

She couldn't help the high sound she made, Pete grumbling, "Oh, none of that."

"You were precious," she said in delight, taking in the chubby-cheeked, dark-eyed, dark-haired, adorable baby. "You even had your little widow's peak back then." She reached up to touch it now, Pete going still under her hand.

"Mum said I got the family's lucky hairline," he said, soft, as she pulled her hand back.

Kate grinned and leaned into him, flipping more pages. Pete as a little kid. "So cute," she cooed, noting the little dip in his chin, even then. Then Pete as a more awkward kid.

"Wait," Pete said, like he was just realizing—

Kate flipped the page to find teenage Pete—

"Spiky hair," she crowed, the best thing ever.

"It was the style," he grumbled, trying to grab for the album.

Kate held it away, laughing. "No, let me have this, I deserve it."

He subsided with a smile that actually reached his eyes. "The things I do for you," he drawled.

Kate shot him a warm look and kept going, Pete as an older teen, a bit more serious. Photos with a pretty girl started appearing, the two of them clearly aware of each other. "You liked her," Kate mused, seeing it, even now.

"Amanda," he said, quiet. "My first love. My first...everything, really." But the way he said it was pained.

Kate shot him a sympathetic look. "Teenage love can be brutal."

"She ripped my heart out and stomped on it in front of my whole world. It was a good introduction to the whole business, really. So I went and joined the Navy," he said, blank, like he had no emotional investment in it.

Kate desperately wanted to follow that sequence of events, because she'd bet this was the trauma that turned him into a man who didn't think he deserved any better...but she didn't want to force him to wallow in more sadness.

"You don't deserve to be hurt, Pete," she said, quiet.

As he looked at her his expression flickered, but he just smiled in that way that was more of a grimace. "Yeah, well, who gets what they deserve?"

Kate smiled, sad. "Maybe we do. Someday."

Pete just looked down, not willing to entertain that hope. So Kate returned to the album and the pictures of him in the Navy, back when he was young and new. The photos got ever more serious as he aged into who he was today, steady, unflappable. Her rock.

Toward the end was a picture of Pete and his mum that seemed more recent, Pete with lines crinkled at his eyes when he smiled, his mum looking more frail. But still, they laughed together on a bench in a park, everything light and bright about it. "She loved you," Kate said, looking up at him. It was so obvious, leaping from the photos.

Pete wiped at his eyes. "I loved her, too."

Kate closed the album and curled against him, her head on his shoulder. "It's a special thing."

He wrapped an arm around her, sighing and staying close. "Yeah."

***

They sat that way for a while, until Pete sighed and pulled away. She showed him the framed photos—he wanted the pictures, but not the frames—so she went to work on those while he went back to the guest room.

Finished with the sitting area, noticing the sunlight starting to wane, Kate went about turning on the lights. She poked through the kitchen, collecting a hand-written recipe book, but leaving the rest. As Pete said, the fridge was empty of everything but mustards, jams, and pickled things, those that wouldn't spoil. There was coffee and tea, and sugar for both, flours and pastas, jarred sauces.

She stepped out of the kitchen when she heard Pete come from the guest room, hauling a box with him. "Recipe book," she said, holding it up.

Loss flickered over his expression, but he just nodded and reached for it. "Good find." He added it to his box, Kate moving over to look—mostly paperwork of various kinds. "Legal stuff," he explained. "Birth and marriage certificates, paperwork from dad's death, the flat certificate of title, all that."

Kate nodded. "I checked the kitchen, but wasn't sure if you wanted any dishes or anything."

He shrugged. "Probably not, but I'll look. The guest room and bath are done. The kitchen should be quick and living area's done, so I guess it's just—" He broke off, looking to his mum's bedroom, which they'd both avoided so far. Grief passed over his face, seeming too much all of the sudden.

Kate reached out, curling a hand around his. "It's starting to get dark. Should we think about dinner?"

The relief that flashed over his expression stole her breath, but then he covered, nodding. "There's good Mediterranean nearby. Pitas and the like. I should go to Woolies for brekkie things: eggs and milk for your coffee. I can stop for takeaway on the way back." From it, she got the sense he wanted to be alone for a bit. Fair enough.

"Sounds great."

"Any meat preferences? Chicken, fish, veggie?"

She shrugged. "I already had salmon, so maybe avoid fish. You know what I like."

His lips quirked. "No pressure there, hey. Roger. I'll be back."

With that, he grabbed his keys, put on his boots, and was out.

***

While he was gone, Kate tidied the living area, the books in neat stacks, the frames reassembled without the photos. She tucked those inside the album, then added that to his box. She checked the doors and windows, lowering all the shades. She hesitated on the threshold of his mum's room, but figured she should at least close the shades.

She turned the light on, taking in the room—neat and tidy, like everything else, a white and navy doona on the bed. There were books at her bedside, a clock, and propped against the lamp—

A letter.

With some ominous sense, Kate approached the beside table, seeing Pete's name scrawled there. His mum had left him a letter.

Kate swallowed against the ache of that, closing the bedroom shade and leaving, turning out the light. She'd tell Pete later.

Then she set about making tea—chamomile, almost like on ship—contemplating their sleeping arrangements. There were two bedrooms, which seemed to make things obvious, but he hadn't set foot in his mum's room. Was she to sleep in his mum's bed? That felt...odd.

Then Pete was back, hauling grocery and takeaway bags. "Hey," he said, soft, seeming slightly restored.

She smiled to see it. "Hey yourself. What'd you bring me?" she asked, teasing.

His lips quirked as he put the takeaway bag on the table, then took the grocery with him into the kitchen. "I don't believe my job requires waiting on officers hand and foot—"

"Yet," she said, pointed.

He flashed her a fond look. "So you can suss it out on your lonesome there, princess."

Pete started to put things in the fridge as Kate opened the takeaway bag, finding wrapped pitas, which smelled delicious. She pulled out little containers of what turned out to be extra veggies—spiced green beans and cauliflower and couscous and more dips with extra pita.

He came back with plates for it all, handing one to her. "I got you the roasted chicken pita," he said, heading back into the kitchen as he spoke. "It's got babaganoush potatoes, lettuce, pickles, tahini, probably some other stuff I forgot." He returned with a beer and bottle of white wine, with glasses for both. Apparently they were drinking. Again.

"Yum. What's yours?"

Pete flicked his eyes to her. "Planning to help yourself?" he asked, dry, as he filled their glasses.

"I like to know my options," she shot back, haughty.

He flashed a smile and handed her wine over. "Pulled lamb with pumpkin hummus, tzatziki, eggplant, other things. You're welcome to try it."

She toasted him with her glass, then folded herself into a seat. "Maybe I will."

***

Kate did, the lamb a bit too rich for her, but delicious. They helped themselves to the dips and veggies until Kate was stuffed. The wine he'd chosen went well with everything, nice and dry, and Kate helped herself to two more glasses. She reckoned they'd earned it. Pete followed suit with two more beers, the buzz of alcohol and full stomachs mellowing both of them.

It made her brave enough to ask what she'd wondered: "Any thoughts on where to sleep?"

The question didn't surprise him. "You should take the guest room. I'll take the couch."

Kate frowned, not loving the idea of him on the couch. "You sure?"

"You know I've slept worse places," he said, a kind of firmness to it that said he would dig in on this.

So she nodded. But also, she might as well tell him what she'd found. "I went in to close the shades in your mum's room and found something. Can I show you?"

Pete tensed a little, but kept his expression clear as he said, "Lead on."

Kate towed him into his mum's room, hand grasping his, and he didn't even hesitate, following where she went. She paused by the nightstand, watching him as he spotted the letter.

Anguish crossed his face as he let go of her, his hand shaking as he reached for it. "Mum's writing," he said, offhand. He sank onto the bed with an unsteady breath, just staring at it. With his head bowed, he seemed so defeated.

Kate couldn't help but reach for him, curving her hand around the back of his neck. His eyes fluttered closed, holding still for a long moment, but then he stiffened, standing. "I'll read it later," he said, voice tight. What Kate took to mean that he'd read it when he was alone. "Thanks for showing me."

"Of course," she said, taking his cue and following him out. She shut the lights off as she went.

***

Pete let her go first in the bathroom, of course, Kate changing into her pyjamas—a tank and soft sleep pants—washing her face, going about her nightly ablutions. When she emerged, Pete had already changed, an extra pillow and blanket on the couch, his energy quiet.

"Goodnight," she said, soft.

He looked over at her, something so open about his expression. "Sleep well, Kate."

She smiled a little and closed the door.

***

Kate didn't know what woke her. She looked at her phone—0211—listening for what it must have been...but there was only silence. She reckoned it was always good to check, so she got up and eased the door open.

One of the small lamps was on, showing her Pete sitting on the couch, hunched over, shoulders shaking.

Her heart clenched in her chest, Kate moving to him. The letter was open on the coffee table, a feminine scrawl she couldn't read from so far away, though she could guess. More importantly, Pete sat, tears lining his cheeks, overtaken by grief.

At her appearance, he tried to wipe them away, but Kate just shushed him, stepping close and pulling him against her. "It's okay," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him. And he just gave in, burying his face against her stomach, arms wrapped around her as he quietly sobbed for his loss. Kate wondered if he'd even let himself cry. Certainly not on ship, where others could see. She wondered how much he'd let himself grieve at all.

So she just stroked her hand over his buzzcut and made soothing noises and stayed close. It was all she could do.

***

Eventually, his tears slowed, Pete taking in steadier breaths. Her heart still aching, Kate firmed one hand at the nape of his neck, tugging a little. "Come to bed, Pete." She determinedly didn't think about it, and he didn't question anything, following her urging to stand. She took his hand and towed him into the guest room, tugging him into the bed after her, pulling him close.

He curved his body around her, arm over her waist, face buried against her back, breathing thickly. "I don't know how to fill the loss," he confessed, breath warm through her tank.

"I don't think you do fill it," she said, squeezing his arm. "It just becomes part of you, slowly."

"I hate this," he said, voice scraped raw.

"I know," she said, trying to be soothing. Because there was nothing else to say.

***

Kate didn't expect to sleep, so she was surprised to open her eyes to light streaming in around the shades, everything soft and muzzy. Pete was still behind her, arm limp over her waist, his breath puffing evenly, warm against her back. She considered reaching for her phone—

Stuff it. The world could wait. She was comfortable and didn't want to move.

Pete was quiet behind her, but his presence loomed. She could feel his heavy frame in the dip of the bed, the sheets warm from their body heat. His forehead pressed to her back, arm over her waist, legs tucked up against hers. Her bare feet rested against his shins. She didn't know why that struck her so.

All of it made her woozy with an odd kind of satisfaction, a sense of rightness she couldn't quite place. Kate couldn't remember the last time she'd slept in a bed with a man like this—not sexual or anything, just for comfort. She might never have done so. Get a man in bed and he usually had one thing on his mind...but Pete wasn't built like that. He was with Monica and would never betray that, doubly so because Kate was with Jim.

...oh, right, Jim. She should probably call him at some point.

But then Pete was stirring, his breath changing as he moved, stretching a little. Figuring he was already waking, she turned under his arm, watching him come back to himself. There were pillow lines along his cheek, the sight making her inexplicably fond.

His eyes fluttered open, focusing on her, the corners of his mouth quirking up the slightest bit. "Morning," he murmured, voice sleep rough and low.

"Morning," she said back, hearing the same in her own voice. "Did you sleep?"

He nodded, the magnitude of the night flickering over his face. He moved his arm from her waist, raising his hand to cup her cheek. "Thank you," he said, resonant, like he was crediting that sleep to her, but it was also more than that—gratitude for her presence, the support, all of it.

She pressed her hand to his over her cheek, gripping it. "I'm glad I could be here." Because she was, so desperately grateful that he'd let her join him. The idea of Pete finding his mum's letter, sobbing alone in this empty flat, it was horrible. Unthinkable. The idea that he would have done so and she'd never know about it was somehow even worse.

He seemed to read some of that. "Me, too," he said, like he saw that alternate sequence of events and didn't much like it.

Then he cleared his throat, pulling his hand back. "I'll fix brekkie."

Just like that, he rolled away, tossing back the covers to stand, tall and strong. He didn't look back as he loped out.

***

Kate went through her morning routine, washing her face, brushing her teeth, hearing Pete distantly puttering in the kitchen. It was...nice. Domestic in a way she was unused to, but that felt right somehow. She dressed in her light linen pants and a pink sleeveless blouse, leaving her hair down.

When she emerged, Pete had fixed eggs and toast, plus had coffee waiting for her, just as she liked it. She smiled as she took it and filled a plate, joining him at the table. He was quiet, clearly distracted, so she respected that, eating in a comfortable silence.

Once they'd both finished, he looked to her with a sigh. "I reckon there's no more putting it off."

***

Pete stood in his mum's bedroom doorway and took a shaking breath. "It still smells like her perfume," he said, something hurting in it.

"Yeah."

He wandered around aimlessly, just touching things—the lamp, the books by her bed, her dresser. He stood before her closet, staring sightlessly at her clothes. "I don't know what I'm to do here," he said dully. "What, I'm just to rifle through her things?"

Kate stepped up beside him. "If there's something you'd like to keep to remember her by, you should."

Pete looked over at her, something despairing in his eyes. "I can't, Kate," he whispered, expression collapsing.

She gripped his wrist. "Okay, okay," she said, reassuring. "Do you want me to—"

"Whatever you think. I'm going for a walk."

With that, he was gone.

***

Kate sighed into the empty flat and turned to regard the room. Pete's reaction was understandable. It was brutal to pick through your loved one's things, especially when the wound was so fresh.

She considered the room slowly, trying to guess what would be meaningful, difficult without knowing both sides. A decorative bowl of small stones on the vanity seemed specific enough to ask Pete about, so she brought it out to the table to show him. So, too, went her jewelry box; invariably he should keep whatever was in there.

She trailed her fingers over his mum's clothes, thoughtful. You could tell a lot about a person from their clothes. People were often surprised by Kate in civvies; they startled at how feminine she was outside work. But that was a reaction to the uniformity and forced androgyny of the Navy, Kate going the other way when it was her choice. Or take Pete, always dressed in fitted shirts and singlets in bright colors, showing off his physique, as good as shouting, look at me, see me, love me.

Pete's mum dressed like most women in their sixties—comfortable, relaxed, lots of layers—but most of her clothes were solid muted colors, with an unexpected bright splash every so often, usually a geometric kind of accent. There were no flowers or patterns or tiny animals anywhere. It gave the sense of a serious woman with a sense of whimsy, which made sense to Kate.

In the back of her closet hung a garment bag, Kate bringing it out and laying it on the bed. When she unzipped it, her breath caught—

It was her wedding dress. The same one Kate had seen in her wedding portrait, a white dress covered in the most delicate lace—old-fashioned these days, but once highly prized. Kate rubbed her fingertip over the fine threads, imagining Pete's mum lovingly storing this for so long. She brought it out to the kitchen table, as well. Mrs. Lucas should look through the rest of her clothes—she might have more of a sense of what was notable, what Pete might want to save. Kate would tell him to call her about it later.

For now, Kate sat to wait.

***

Pete returned after an hour, a sheen of sweat on him. She wondered if he'd run for a while. Hopefully it helped—burn off the grief a bit.

He saw her waiting and sent her an appreciative look, but also went slightly chagrined. "I should have a shower."

"Go on, then. I'll be here."

***

He emerged in a purple singlet and camo cargo shorts, so wonderfully perfectly Pete that it made her want to smile. She didn't, seeing how cautious he was as he approached the table, gaze drifting over the objects there. It landed on the stones, flickering in recognition.

"She kept the stones out, so I reckoned they must be special," Kate explained.

He nodded. "She collected them on her travels. Said they reminded her of where she'd been. Sometimes I'd get one for her, if I was somewhere interesting."

And she'd kept them close, where she could see them every day. "That's lovely."

Pete smiled, touching a shiny black crystalline rock on top. "Yeah. I should keep these."

Kate nodded, then gestured to the jewelry box. "I didn't look inside, but I reckon you'll want all that."

He opened it, taking in pairs of earrings, necklaces, and bracelets—nothing extravagant, just pretty. He honed in on a velvet box, popping it open—

To show an antique diamond ring, done in the art deco style. The central diamond was flanked by smaller diamonds and surrounded by looping linear filigree, tiny accent diamonds throughout. It was small and modest, really, but eye-catching.

"Mum's wedding ring," he said, a dull note to his voice. "It was her mum's. And I think maybe her mum's, too. Before the war." He swallowed against the hurt of it. "I should just get rid of it."

"No," Kate said quickly, emphatic. "You'll need it someday. For—for Monica," she said, knowing that would never happen even as the name came out. From Pete's expression, he knew it, too. "Or someone else," she added, putting a note of hope into it.

He closed the ring box. "And I thought I was an optimist," he said, dry, turning it into a joke.

"You are," she reminded him, holding his eyes.

He looked away, jaw flexing as he put the ring box back inside the jewelry box and closed it.

"There's one more thing I wanted to show you," she said, moving to the garment bag and unzipping it carefully. "I found this tucked away."

She saw when Pete recognized it, flinching minutely. He lifted his eyes to hers. "And?" he asked, not following.

She held up the material, showing him. "This lace is very fine. You should save it."

Pete looked at her like she'd sprouted another head. "What am I to do with a wedding dress?" he asked, like he couldn't believe he was asking, it was so ridiculous.

Kate didn't know why her heart pounded so oddly. "Some women incorporate their mum's dresses into their own. Your bride might find a use for it," she explained. Kate had always liked that idea, annoyed that her mum had got rid of her dress along the way. "Or if you—if you have kids, they might like it. You never know."

He blinked, a different kind of pain racing over his face before he locked it down. "That's quite the imagination you have there, Kate," he said, a resigned note to it.

She sighed and let the dress go, moving to him and grasping his hands. "I know everything seems awful right now, and it's hard to see past that, but there is a future out there for you. And it'll be brilliant, Pete, I know it will."

Pete searched her eyes, like he couldn't even believe she was serious. He looked down. "If you say so." He swallowed, squeezing her hands. "If you think I should keep it, I will. But I still say I haven't a Buckley's there."

"It's all right. I'll believe it enough for you."

***

Pete packed his car with the few boxes they'd collected, along with the garment bag. Then he just stood and looked at the apartment building for a moment, melancholy on his face. "I reckon this is the last time I'll see this place."

Kate moved to stand beside him. Figuring she could now, she wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning against him. He shifted, an arm going around her shoulder, its heavy weight reassuring. After a while, she asked, "Did your mum like living here?"

He looked over at her, so close, his lips curving up. "Loved it. Said it was the perfect distance to The Strand, the neighbors were quiet, and it was just the right size for her."

Kate nodded, smiling. "Then let it go be loved that much by someone else."

He just stared at her, shaking his head a little. "I wish you could've known her."

It sent warmth all through her. Kate leaned into him a little harder, pointed. "I reckon I do know her, in a way."

His jaw clenched, emotion threatening, but he just nodded and pulled her in for a hug. Just as quickly he released her, stepping away as he cleared his throat. "Let's go, then. I'm done here."

***

The drive back to Cairns was as quiet as the drive down, though of a different kind. As before, Kate left him to it, watching the scenery outside. It was...nice. Peaceful.

He pulled up to her flat just as afternoon was fading into evening. He parked, then got out and headed for the boot. Kate followed, taking her bag from him. "Want to come in?" she offered, reluctant to leave him alone.

"Nah, I should get home. I'll be okay," he said, like he could read her concern.

She accepted that and stepped close, pulling him into a hug. "Call me if that changes, hey. You've got to tell people stuff." She pulled back, hand at the base of his neck, shaking him slightly to make her point.

Pete's lips quirked. "I know, I know."

Kate moved to step away—

But he caught her hand, bringing it to his chest. She could feel his heart beating underneath it, something so poignant about that. Pete just held her look, gratitude in his own. Kate smiled in acknowledgment, pressing her hand to his chest once before pulling away. "Enjoy the rest of your leave, sailor."

"Yes, ma'am."

***

When they reported back to the Hammersley, it was like nothing happened. Kate walked up the gangway to find him already aboard and in his DPNUs, directing some of the boys on preparations to shove off. "Morning, Buff," she said, pausing in greeting.

His eyes glowed. "And how are you this fine morning, X?"

"Looking forward to what trouble finds us today."

He grinned, impish and light. "That's the spirit."

***

Leave talk was the morning's subject, of course, everyone easing back in from the break. The bridge was a little slow, but in good spirits as they waited for Mike to join them. Kate had the conn until he did, Swain on helm, ET on the EOD, with Nav, Charge, and Ro all at their usual stations while Pete oversaw final leave preparations.

"How was your leave, X?" Swain asked in his kindly way.

Kate smiled to him. "Good. Spent some time with a friend," she said, conscious of Pete behind her. "You?"

"Family time, you know."

"I've heard," she agreed, smiling. "Is Chloe's favorite word still 'no?'"

"By a mile," he said, dry. "I'm told she's asserting her independence."

Pete broke in from behind them: "Love an independent woman. You're doing the world a favor raising up the next generation there, Swaino."

Swain turned to toss him a look. "Yes, well, you can come over and mind your goddaughter any time, pitch in on that favor," he shot back.

"I reckon I just might," Pete said, pleased with himself.

"Yeah, right. You're too busy with your mysterious trips."

"Aw, is someone feeling left out?" Pete drawled.

"It's fine. Enjoy your independence," Swain said, dry.

Kate smiled at them, but caught something serious flash over Pete's face. Before she had a chance to analyze it—

"If it makes you feel better, mate, I was down in Townsville taking care of my mum's things. So not so much with the independence," Pete corrected, sending a rush of warmth through Kate. That was Pete starting to tell people things, as she'd asked. A tiny thing, but still.

Swain startled, blinking at Pete in shock. "Oh, I—I'm sorry, Buff. I didn't know."

"Why I'm telling you. I'll not have word spreading that I'm neglecting my goddaughter," he drawled, injecting lightness into it. "The apple of my eye. Light of my life. First in my ranking of the best Blakes."

"Who would be second, then?" Kate asked, teasing.

"Why, Sally, of course," Pete said, getting low snickers from around the room.

"Of course," Swain echoed with a grin.

"It's always important to know where you stand," Pete opined, like he was passing down the wisdom of the ages. It got another round of stifled laughter.

Kate nodded sagely. "Yes, yes. And third?" she asked, egging him on, she knew, but it was so lovely to see him in a playful mood after all the sadness.

Pete shot her an appreciative look. "That would be Mrs. Kathy Blake—"

Swain squawked. "My mother? You've met her once."

"Love an independent woman. Do keep up, Swaino," Pete drawled, setting off the crew again.

Which was when Mike appeared at the top of the stairs. He flashed a smile. "Always nice walking onto a cheerful bridge. Morning, all. Leave put you in a good mood?"

Pete regarded him evenly, eyes sparkling. "I was just offering my ranking of best Blakes. Care to weigh in, sir?"

Mike schooled his expression. "Well, that's easy. No one outshines Miss Chloe Blake."

The bridge crew didn't even bother to cover their laughter at the CO getting in on the joke. At the conn, Swain just nodded in defeat. "All right, all right. See who patches you lot up next time you have need."

"The fourth-best Blake, I reckon," Pete drawled. "But then, I haven't met your dad."

Even Mike chuckled at that, the bridge loving taking the piss out of poor Swain. "All right, what say you take her out, X?"

"With pleasure, sir," Kate said, back to business. It was looking to be a beautiful day.

***

"Buff was in fine form this morning, hey," Swain said from the wardroom cabinet, doing his usual stock checks.

Kate looked up from the binder she'd just replaced. She tipped her head. "He was."

"Bit of a surprise, given what he was up to over leave."

She leaned against the table, shrugging. "Maybe his trip gave him some closure."

"Seems so." Swain's lips quirked. "Oh, I meant to ask. Your leave. Did you go anywhere interesting?" he asked, wholly innocent.

In it, Kate could see how much he'd guessed. Swain really was very perceptive sometimes. It must be the copper in him. She probably shouldn't have egged Pete on as she had; it gave away their closeness.

But she owed no explanations to Swain. So just smiled airily. "Everywhere's interesting," she dodged, heading for the door. As she opened it—

"X," Swain said, his tone asking for her attention.

She paused, looking to him in question.

"I'm glad he had someone with him," Swain said, shooting her a soft look.

"Me, too." With that, she went.

***

Kate didn't expect to run into Jim in the Samaru Islands, but it was nice to see him. Only when he apologized for not calling did she realize that he hadn't called. Nor had she, even though she'd thought about it over leave. It struck her...but then Mike was snapping at Jim and Kate couldn't help the guilt that slid through her at the whole thing.

She liked Jim well enough, they got along, but their relationship was hardly serious. Even so, she had a pretty good idea why Mike got so snippy about it...and that was a problem.

She had thrown Jim in Mike's face, back when their relationship first started. She wasn't proud of it, but she'd wanted to make Mike jealous. Only now that she had...she realized she didn't want it, actually. She'd been out to prove something—to Mike, to herself, maybe. Prove that she was desirable, that she was wanted, something. And once she had, her interest waned. In Jim, yes, but also in Mike. She didn't like his jealousy or the subtle sense of entitlement that came with it. She didn't like that he'd done nothing about his feelings for her, whatever they were. And she really didn't like that he'd had years to come find her—and hadn't—only to act like he had some right to her now that she was underfoot again.

Kate felt like she was an afterthought to Mike, and like she was leading Jim on, and she wanted out of the whole business. Except she hadn't quite figured how to make that happen.

***

And then it all went to hell—Mike and Jim injured on the island, seriously enough to have to be evacuated, Kate anointed as acting-CO, her very first command, gained at Mike's expense. And to top it all off, ET had somehow inspired a stowaway. The whole thing was a right mess.

So Kate was grateful to find Pete on the galley deck, an extra mug of tea beside him, waiting for her.

"Am I that predictable?" she asked, moving to join him.

Pete watched as she took the tea and sat. "It was a hard day," he said, compassionate, leaning into her a little.

Kate nudged him back, sighing, feeling the tension leave her for the first time since they'd heard of Jim's unit getting attacked. "Very," she agreed.

"Any word on the captain?"

"Still in surgery, last I heard."

Pete nodded, sipping from his mug. "He'll be fine. Mighty Mike Flynn's much too stubborn to die. Especially rescuing Army. Think of the indignity."

Kate snorted...then broke out into laughter, leaning into Pete, who smiled back, holding her weight. After a moment she sighed, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "Thanks. I needed that."

He leaned his cheek against the top of her head. "I know you're worried about it, but you'll be fine as CO. You're ready."

His confidence warmed her. For Pete to say such a thing was meaningful, even if Kate didn't feel equal to it. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

"I don't. I'm already mucking it up," she admitted. "I called Commander Marshall about the stowaway business. His response was to tell me I shouldn't be bothering him with it, that it's my call."

"It is," he affirmed. "Being CO's a different dynamic. Even though the captain trusts you, he's still your safety net. Only now that's gone. Now you live and die by your choices."

Kate pulled away to look up at him in alarm. "But no pressure," she said, askance.

Pete quirked a grin. "Like I said, you're ready." He tipped his head. "Now, don't take offense, but I'm going to be by your side the whole way."

Kate frowned at him. "Why would I take offense?" Honestly, that sounded like a gift.

"I don't want you to think I'm babysitting you or something. I'm not. But you saw today, with ET. The crew knows you one way. They feel they can push back with their XO. But they can't with the CO. I suspect I'll be reminding some of that."

Kate nodded, understanding. She hadn't even thought of the mental transition for the crew, but it made sense. Of course Pete was already there. "I'm glad I have you with me."

"Anything you need," he offered.

At that moment, it felt like Kate already had every single thing she needed.

***

The stowaway situation blew up, because of course it did, and Kate saw what Pete meant. The crew pushed back at her in ways they wouldn't with Mike. Nothing big, nothing insurmountable, but they were freer with their disagreement. And Kate had the feeling that Pete was maneuvering behind her to tamp down on even more of it. She thanked her lucky stars for his quiet support, trusting that he had it all in hand as she figured out a way to get them out of their bind. Which shockingly worked, even impressing Commander Marshall.

It seemed Pete was right about that, too. She was ready.

***

Kate didn't expect to see Jim in hospital...which just proved again that they weren't going to work. She'd known that he was injured, Swain had told her he'd need a scan, but she hadn't thought of it at all after that. Jim apologized again for not calling and again, Kate hadn't even noticed. He was just...an afterthought.

The breakup was honestly a relief. It was almost too perfect that Kate barely noticed he was breaking up with her as he was breaking up with her. It was like a little microcosm of their relationship.

She didn't correct his assumption about her relationship with Mike. She reckoned it was kinder to let him think that she was interested in someone else rather than simply not interested in him. And she did care for Mike, even if it wasn't what Jim assumed. Or what Mike wanted, to be fair.

And then it was done and all Kate felt was relief.

***

She sat with Mike in hospital, clasping his hand, studying his unconscious face. The nurses assured her he would be fine, eventually. His body was just recuperating, see, no need to worry. Kate nodded at them, appreciative for their attempt at reassurance, even as some part of her mind was preoccupied with it. She wanted Mike to wake, of course, but his injury didn't send her world spinning. It didn't destabilize her.

She didn't want to be what the nurses assumed of her right now—the little woman, waiting for the man to wake and favor her with his attention. She wasn't that woman. She didn't need his attention anymore. She could do what he did. Maybe not as expertly, but well enough to impress.

Sitting there, Kate realized she was entirely ready to step out of Mike Flynn's shadow. And that was a heady feeling.

***

Commander Marshall called to tell her they'd be getting a temporary CO while Mike recovered in hospital. Kate supposed it was too much to ask that they'd let her stay on as acting-CO...but it still stung. They were docked in port until the CO arrived, so the crew had some unexpected leave, a nice thing after the trauma of Mike's injury.

Kate stayed on ship her last night as acting-CO. Maybe it was silly, but there was something about the knowledge of it. For now, the ship was hers. She'd been waiting her whole career for the chance. She didn't want to waste any of it.

She didn't know what possessed her to wander out to the galley at 0200—

And she pulled up short.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Pete, shocked at the sight of him in sleep shorts and singlet, his usual pyjamas. He should be on leave.

Beside him sat a single chocolate cupcake with an unlit candle in its center.

Pete smiled at her. "Well, we had to commemorate your last night as CO, didn't we?" he drawled, obviously pleased that he'd surprised her. He flicked open a lighter and lit the candle.

Kate shook her head at him even as she moved to sit by his side, picking up the cupcake. "Cake is for losing your temporary command?" she asked, affection sliding through her.

"Cake is for everything," he said, like this should be obvious. "Now make a wish and blow out the candle before the fire suppression system gets us."

Kate laughed, then looked to her cupcake. She took a breath—formulating her wish as she did—then promptly blew out the candle.

"I hope it comes true," he murmured as the wisp of smoke curled in the air.

She regarded him. "Do you want to know what I wished for?"

"Your own command," he said like it wasn't even a question.

"Cheating," she sniffed, peeling the paper from the cupcake.

"Knowing you is cheating?" he asked.

"Yes. Stop bloody knowing everything," she grumbled, breaking off a bite of cupcake with her fingers, getting frosting all over. It was ridiculously sweet...and yet somehow perfect. She held it out to him. "Have some."

"Ruining my girlish figure," he said, but he broke off his own bite, popping it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "Too sweet," he decided.

Kate laughed and leaned into him, a wash of good feeling sweeping through her. He'd thought of her. Of this, of how it would matter. It made something warm deep in her chest.

They stayed like that for a while, both taking bites of the cupcake, until it was gone. Kate wrapped the paper around the melty candle. "Thanks," she said, soft. She didn't think anyone else would have done that. Or known what it meant to her.

"Congratulations on your first command," he said quietly, almost dreamy. "Let's do it again soon."

She nudged him, appreciative.

Pete cleared his throat and sat back a little. "I heard the captain's doing better?"

"Up and about and wanting back on ship, of course. The doctors might have to tie him down."

"Sounds about right," Pete said, amused. "And how's Roth?" he asked with carefully polite interest.

Kate marveled at Pete. He'd thought to check on her boyfriend more than she had. Probably why he wasn't her boyfriend anymore. "Jim's scan came back clear, so he's fine." Then, because it felt like lying not to say anything, she added, "We broke up."

Pete sucked in a stunned breath. "What? But—he adores you. It's clear as day."

Kate shrugged. "He kept not calling and I kept not noticing. It's fine."

Pete studied her. "It is, isn't it?" he said, like he could see that in her, a surprise to find.

"I wasn't a very good girlfriend," she admitted.

He shrugged. "Or he wasn't the right person for you."

It made her think of Monica, how she clearly wasn't right for Pete. Not that it was her business. "I suppose."

Pete regarded her for a long moment...and then he took a breath. "I reckon we should get to bed. The new CO arrives at 0745."

Kate nodded once. "Looking forward to it."

***

My faith in you, X, was clearly misplaced.

Kate couldn't get Freeman's criticism out of her mind. He'd seemed so reasonable at first, so supportive. To have their new captain call her out, over and over again, in front of the entire crew was humiliating. Worse, to have him justify it...and for her to realize he wasn't entirely wrong. Kate was used to making her own calls when she was leading a boarding party. After years under Mike's command, she didn't check with him before she acted; she abided by the regs and Mike trusted her to do so appropriately. But Freeman wasn't Mike and that lack of trust burned.

Kate wasn't surprised when Pete stepped through the galley door in the early hours, shooting her a sympathetic look as he came to sit beside her. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Just great," she drawled, sarcastic.

He leaned in, nudging her shoulder with his. "Everyone knows the CO's going hard at you. We all see it. The boarding party didn't have authority to search that ship, no matter what he says."

Kate shrugged. "We've exceeded our authority before. Maybe if we had here, that man would still be alive."

"Don't do that. Don't let him make you doubt yourself. You know the regs. You know what's proper and what's not. Freeman doesn't change that."

Kate swallowed, nodding. She knew that. She did. But..."He implied I wasn't the right kind of person for leadership," she said, soft. That was the heart of what ate at her, really. A storied CO all but saying she wasn't up to it.

Pete made some derisive noise. "Anyone who says that has lost the plot. You're as solid as they come. The finest XO I've served under. And you're ready for more."

That landed on her, something squeezing in her chest. A hell of a thing. "Thanks, Pete."

He nodded easily, like it was nothing, obvious. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to stick closer to the bridge tomorrow. Tobler can handle the boys. I reckon it's better for me to be at hand, given all of it."

Kate's rush of relief was a surprise, but a welcome one. "You'll get no objection from me."

Pete nodded, his lips curving up, kind. "I got your back, Kate."

She swallowed, feeling that. "I know."

***

"Fish rots from the head," Freeman said to Kate, apparently serious about having her get down on the deck and do pushups with everyone else. The shot at her didn't even register—he'd been insulting her all day—but this? This kind of physical humiliation was beyond the pale. Even she hadn't expected that.

From the deck, mid-pushup, Pete's look to her was furious.

Before Kate had to decide what to do, Charge was confessing to stealing drugs—which, what?—and his status as Freeman's favorite earned him a private trip to the captain's cabin. Leaving Kate to watch them go.

Pete stepped up to her as they did, the others dispersing with grumbles and sore arms. Getting called cowards and thieves was going to take a toll soon. Morale was already starting to flag. And it was only day two.

"He's gone wrong," Pete said when they were alone, blunt and to-the-point. "He had us bin perfectly good eggs at breakfast. And then this? How he treats you?" He shook his head. "That's not Navy discipline."

He was right. Kate knew he was right. It still didn't matter. "The CO being tough on the crew is hardly cause for action."

Pete's expression went frustrated. He knew that, too. "He'll stuff it up. Mark my words."

She nodded. "Then I'll handle it."

***

Kate stood lookout, just off the bridge, Pete by her side. With Freeman ordering them through unsurveyed waters against their protests, they needed all eyes forward. And honestly, it was a relief to be out of the tension of the bridge.

"You notice the CO keeps rubbing his eyes?" Pete asked, low.

Kate risked a glance to Pete, who stared through his binos, intent on the water ahead. "Has he been?"

"Yeah," he said, certain.

"Roger," she said, filing it away.

***

And then Freeman illegally ordered them to fire on an Australian-flagged ship and Kate just broke, outright countermanding his orders.

"Buffer, take her from the bridge," Freeman ordered. A career-ender.

Kate shot Pete a look, turning her back on Freeman. And she knew, even before he said it—

"I can't do that, sir."

The magnitude of it chilled her—the leader of the ship's enlisted lining up behind her and refusing the captain, the stuff of legend. Or a cautionary tale.

Then Freeman called on Charge, who also refused his order to remove her. It was her crew backing her in defiance of the chain of command.

If they could do that, she would do what was necessary. "Captain. I'm relieving you of your command and I'm taking over the ship," she informed him, all prim and proper so that it sounded right when it was repeated at her court martial.

And then Freeman melted down, accusing them of mutiny, threatening all their careers. A threat he could make good on, too, if he was of sound mind. But as Kate watched, she could see that Pete was right. Freeman kept rubbing his eyes, his forehead, going erratic, something wrong.

She clocked Pete moving to take the helm as Freeman deteriorated. That was smart, she realized. Best to have their steady hands at the controls, given this upheaval.

"Let's remove him from the bridge, please," she ordered, sweeping by to take the conn. "I have the ship."

Beside her, Pete echoed it, defiant: "XO has the ship."

Gratitude rushed through her. If it had been anyone else, this could have gone entirely differently. It took incredible courage for an enlisted to outright refuse a CO's orders. Regardless of the legality of those orders, no one wanted to risk their career. And captains had the total confidence of the brass; if they didn't, they wouldn't be given a ship. In a power struggle between the CO and the XO, the smart money was not with her.

But. Pete always had her back.

At the realization that he'd lost the ship, Freeman pulled himself together enough to walk off the bridge under his own power.

"Prepare to board the trawler," Kate ordered, already thinking through the call she'd have to make to Commander Marshall. I'm very sorry to inform you I had no choice but to relieve the CO of his command.

A bloody nightmare.

But with Pete beside her, calmly ordering ET to assemble a boarding party, Kate still had the feeling that it would all be okay. It didn't make sense, but she let herself believe it.

She'd take any comfort she could get.

***

They apprehended the murderers from the trawler and steamed to home port. Commander Marshall took the news better than she expected, especially given Swain's belief that there was a medical issue at play. So, no court martial for her, it seemed.

Marshall actually came to collect Freeman personally. A sad end to a brilliant career.

As they drove away, Kate locked eyes with Pete, standing at attention, seeing them off. She tipped her head in respect. His lips quirked, as if it was nothing.

Steady as always.

***

Kate stayed aboard, overseeing the business of arriving home. It wasn't strictly necessary, but given that she'd relieved her CO of command, it seemed like a good idea to stay present, to not be seen as running away.

Pete did the same, she noticed, checking his boys' work, sending them off with backslaps and smiles, like nothing notable had happened.

Every sailor in the Navy would know about it by breakfast. Mutiny on the Hammersley. Just another thing to add to the list of her exploits, she supposed.

It was getting to be a long list.

After she ordered Williams and Ro to stay on watch, she headed to the captain's cabin, the residual adrenaline making her head buzz. She sat in the chair—Mike's chair, but hers for the moment—breathing slowly out.

Pete knocked at the open door, light. "Everyone's off, boss," he said, like it was any old day. Like he commonly called her boss. "Reporting back at 0700."

"Good," she said, standing and gesturing him in.

He complied, Kate closing the door after he moved by her. Then she turned and wrapped her arms around him.

Pete stilled against her for an instant, then softened, his arms coming around her and holding her close. Relief and comfort and safety slid through her, going right to her head.

"Thank you," she said into his chest, dizzy with all the feeling rushing through her. She couldn't believe she'd relieved the CO of command. She couldn't believe she wasn't in a brig right now. It all seemed so impossible. It made no sense.

Everything but him, solid and reliable against her.

She felt him nod, still holding her. "You were something else, you know?" he said, almost marveling. "You said you'd handle it, but you handled it."

When she pulled back to look at him, he was smiling in that way that meant what the f*ck. Kate couldn't help but smile back. "What's a little mutiny, hey."

Pete huffed a laugh, his arms loosening around her. "That Ice Queen nickname's not going anywhere, I'll tell you what."

She groaned and dropped her forehead to his chest. "Don't remind me," she said, muffled by his uniform.

Pete just laughed again, all light like this, between them.

Kate let herself revel in it. Everything seemed impossible, but this, here, was like a bubble of support and good feeling. And she would take that for as long as she could.

***

When Mike was well enough to leave hospital, Kate went to retrieve him. He filled her in on his suspicions about Ray Walsman's involvement with the mercenaries operating in the Samaru Islands. Hell, his involvement in the murder of the mercenary who'd shot at her. Who would have killed her, had she not played dead.

Mike paused in the shadow of the hospital, shaking his head. "One thing's for sure, there's no way I can take that job," he said, letting that news land. After he'd suggested that the job with Walsman might let the two of them pursue a relationship, he likely expected this to be disappointing. Instead Kate felt...nothing. "Guess I'm a Navy man after all," Mike added and what? Was that supposed to be some kind of consolation? They couldn't be together but hey, she was right about his fundamental nature, she could take comfort in that?

Her irritation at it was enough to make her realize that this was the time to be...clear. "Sir," she said, preempting him before he could move off.

Mike looked at her in question. "Yes, X?"

"Given that we're both Navy and serving on the same ship, I think it would be best to move past entertaining any...other possibilities between us," she said, echoing his own words back at him.

Mike blinked, surprise in his blue eyes. "Do you," he said, not committing either way.

"Yes, sir," she said, even more sure of it now in the face of his continued inability to take a damn stand. The last thing she wanted from a relationship was this maddening hedging. "That may have been an option, once, but we're beyond that now. We're in a good place, we work well together, it seems best to leave it at that."

Mike studied her for a long, silent moment. "If that's what you want."

"It is," she agreed, marveling at the buoyancy already growing within her. "Good that that's settled. Now, let's get you back." She headed for the carpark, expecting him to follow.

Kate walked out into the light...and smiled.

***

Out on patrol, Kate was not surprised to hear that there were troubles between Pete and Monica. She'd expected that sooner or later, given everything.

What did surprise her was that she heard it as gossip from crew and not Pete himself. Word was Monica was off with another man and Pete wasn't worried about it, despite his mates' warnings. So when she spotted him alone in the seniors mess, phone to his ear—which he never did—she paused to check on him.

He nodded her in and told her a bit of it, part of Kate marveling at the warmth of it. It felt like one of their late-night chats, only this was on duty, in uniform, essentially public given that anyone could walk by the open door. Kate didn't know why that struck her, but it did.

Oddly, Pete didn't seem jealous about the Monica situation. Kate could understand a bloke getting jealous that his girlfriend went on holiday with another man. But that wasn't Pete's reaction at all. He seemed more worried that he should be jealous, even as he professed that he just hoped Monica had a good time. And Kate genuinely believed that.

It was a little stunning, actually. Pete was probably the most loyal man she'd ever known. He would never think to cheat on his girlfriend. Apparently, he extended the same to said girlfriend. It clearly hadn't occurred to him that he should worry until the crew started gossiping about it. And then it got in his head.

Still, Monica going on holiday with a bloke Pete had never met without any sort of real discussion about it was wildly insensitive, which Kate had to softly convey. He shouldn't just accept being treated like that, even if their relationship was light or easy or whatever.

It made Kate wonder what other treatment he'd just been accepting. It made her worry.

"I hope this girl knows how lucky she is," Kate told him, sincere.

Pete slid his phone open, showing a picture of Monica. "I'm the lucky one."

Kate, already deeply unimpressed by this girl, just shrugged it off with a dismissive sniff, going for the joke of it. He smiled, amused, Kate smiling herself as she headed out.

"XO," he said, turning her around at the door. "Do you really believe men and women can be just friends?"

Something tightened in her gut, an odd kind of feeling rising at the question. It was about Monica and her mate, of course, but it was also bigger than that. Kate and Pete were friends, after all. So what was he really wondering here?

"Yes," she said softly, clocking his blink, the way it didn't seem to reassure him, "I think they can."

She left it at that, but the motive behind that question...it lingered.

***

Kate asked Swain to take Pete out with the boys and cheer him up...and instead they lost him. She kicked herself as she questioned them, the crew gathered at the aft railing. Swain was reliable, one of Pete's best mates, but Nikki had said he'd been one of the ones sowing doubt about Monica. Kate shouldn't have left it to them. She'd thought some time out with mates would help, but she'd forgotten how truly terrible men could be with sensitive things. If she'd wanted Pete to cheer up, she should have handled it herself.

And then Charge got a message from Pete, who was legitimately missing, and the whole thing suddenly turned.

***

Of course the bloody heroic fool would chase after a group of mercenaries on his own, with naught but his phone and shonky reception. Of course.

When they got Pete back, she was going to kill him.

***

Dread gathered in Kate's gut as they found the mercenary base camp, still and quiet. Too quiet. With the mess and the fires burning, the bad guys had obviously left in a hurry, worried about being caught. Given that, would they take a prisoner along? Or would Kate soon find Pete's body, left behind with the rest of the trash?

Please, she thought, doing a silent sweep of the camp, controlling the tiny coil of panic tightening in her gut. Please be okay.

"It appears to be all clear, X; they must have legged it," Swain said over comms, worry thick in his voice.

Kate felt the same, but she tried to keep it out of her voice as she relayed the news to Mike, who recalled them to the ship. As they trudged out of the jungle, she tried not to feel like they'd failed Pete, who'd called for help. She tried.

The gunshots spun them around, Kate racing off toward the sound of fighting. Fighting for your life.

Adrenaline pounded through her as she ran toward the desperate shouts, fear and worry making her sick—

And then she spotted Pete, half naked, covered in dirt and sweat, looming over the mercenary he'd clearly just overpowered, shovel poised to take his head off. Beyond him was a mound of dirt...and an open grave.

Relief at finding him warred with the horror of what must have happened to put Pete in this state, poised to kill an unconscious man.

"Put it down," Kate said as she holstered her pistol, moving toward him slowly. Pete looked at her, still in the rage of it. "Put it down," Kate begged, getting closer, trying to snap him out of it by sheer force of will. She watched him finally see her and understand—

And break. His expression collapsed, Pete taking a few halting steps toward her, finally dropping the shovel. Kate got to him, pulling him close as he fell to his knees, sobs wracking his body. She held him, one arm around his shoulders, her other hand cupping his jaw as Swain and Bomber moved around them to secure the mercenary and clear the scene.

Kate left them to it, holding Pete close as he sobbed, his entire body shaking. She hadn't seen him like this since that night at his mum's, overcome. It made Kate's eyes sting, but she swallowed against it. "You're okay now, Pete," she said to him, low, everything in her hurting for him. "I've got you." She leaned her forehead against his temple, relief mixing with anguish, and just held on.

***

Eventually, Pete's sobs quieted to heaving breaths, more controlled. Kate pulled back, running her fingers along his jaw, getting his attention. He met her eyes, his red from crying, but clearer, she thought. Present. "You with us, Buff?" she asked, soft.

He swallowed, nodding. "I'm with you." The sheer emotion of it was breathtaking—gratitude and relief and heartbreak and despair—but Kate forced herself not to fall into it. She had to be strong now.

So she just nodded and pulled all the way back, pushing herself to standing. She offered Pete a hand up—

He took it, letting her help. She could tell from the way he did it that he was exhausted, his muscles shaky. If he'd dug that grave and then beat a Russian special forces bloke unconscious, Kate was slightly shocked he could stand at all.

Kate took in the others—ET and Spider on watch at a distance, Bomber standing over the secured mercenary, who had regained consciousness and was wisely saying nothing, Swain returning from giving a full update to Mike. That was technically Kate's job, but tending to Pete had taken precedence. A single look to Swain had conveyed it and he'd simply nodded and walked off, keying his radio. Not for the first time, Kate was glad for his quiet expertise.

She glanced all around and nodded them back the way they came. "Let's make for the RHIB."

***

Kate told Pete to get cleaned up before reporting to Mike on the bridge. He looked his old self when he did, except for the new hollowness to him, like his strings had been cut. Kate stood with him, silently sending him strength, for all the good it did, as he told them about Walsman's blood-soaked plans. He'd ordered Pete killed, this bright spirit snuffed out like it was nothing, and for what? Some bloody mining rights? It was infuriating.

When Mike dismissed Pete to go call Monica, his blank hesitation told her everything she needed to know. From the way he didn't look at her, she understood that she wouldn't see him tonight. She steeled herself against the disappointment of it. His needs were more important now. And he really should just sleep.

Everything would look better in the morning.

***

As they disembarked at home port, Kate caught sight of Pete sitting on the dock just beyond the ship, face turned up to the sun. Gladness swept her—that he was here, that he was whole, if a little worse for wear. She couldn't forget that moment in the jungle when she feared he might not be. It had kept her awake last night.

While the others moved off, debating where to eat, Kate told them she'd catch up and headed for Pete. "Hey, shore leave means you, too, you know?" she reminded him, smiling a little as she took the seat beside him. It reminded her of their nights in the galley, but now it was out in the open, where everyone could see. Something about that struck her. It felt right somehow.

Pete just watched her sit, welcoming, but not budging. Apparently he was very comfortable and disinclined to move. Which, fair enough.

"Sort things out with Monica?" she asked, kind.

Pete just looked at her, blank. "Who?" he asked pointedly, holding the look...and then his lips quirked.

Kate smiled and shook her head a little, looking off. How typically Pete. He'd probably never say her name again. Because when you betrayed his loyalty, that was it; you no longer existed to him. A whole relationship binned just like that.

"Can you feel it, X?" he asked, making her look over—

And her breath caught. He had tipped his face up to the sun again, eyes closed, something like reverence in his expression. She couldn't tear her eyes away, transfixed.

Then, realizing she was staring, she followed his lead, lifting her face to the sun. Letting the warmth seep into her.

"Worth being alive, isn't it?" he asked.

Kate kept her eyes closed. "Even on a boatswain's pay?" she asked, teasing a little.

She actually felt when he looked over at her, so Kate met his gaze, deeply grateful for his quirked lips, for his zest for life, for the fact that he was still with her. "Even on a boatswain's pay," he confirmed.

She took his hand, squeezing it in her own, feeling Pete grip back, even as he tipped his face up to the sun again. Kate didn't stop herself from staring this time, her arm pressed all along his as she leaned closer, reaching out to touch his jaw.

Then she realized what she was doing and pulled back, looking away again. But she stayed close, keeping hold of him. She'd missed him, she thought. His disappearance was still such an open wound, she wanted the time with him. This, here, it helped.

So she sat with him. And enjoyed being alive.

***

In retrospect, they should have anticipated that Walsman would try to have Pete killed. He was the only witness who could link Walsman to his many crimes, including ordering Pete's murder. Given that Walsman had already killed the hospitalized mercenary who could implicate him, taking out Pete was just a logical next step.

She should have thought of it. Instead they'd somehow allowed an assassin on board the Hammersley and only by good luck and Pete's reflexes had he survived the attempt on his life.

Things could calm down at any time.

Her head aching, Kate stepped into the wardroom, clocking Swain before the supply cabinet. He looked over at her entrance, smiling in welcome. "You okay, X?"

"I would love some painkillers," she said, rubbing the back of her neck.

Swain shot her a sympathetic look, then grabbed a box from the cabinet. "Been a bit of that going around."

"Yeah," she said, taking the pills he offered her and going for some water.

"You, uhh, you had a chance to sit with Buff recently?" he asked, careful.

Kate looked at him in surprise, swallowing the pills. Swain had never once mentioned catching them in the galley. It struck her that he brought it up now. "With everything going on, not recently. Why?"

Swain shrugged a little. "Might be good to have a check-in. He's been...stewing. And Charge says he isn't sleeping."

Kate frowned. That wasn't good. "I'll speak to him. Thanks, Swain."

***

Only Kate didn't get a chance to speak to him, not before they were tracking Walsman to his new command post in an ocean trawler, Pete tetchy and short-tempered. They boarded the trawler, right into a hail of gunfire. As the situation deteriorated, Pete saved her life, told her to take cover, and...disappeared.

Dammit.

***

"I'm very upset with you," Kate said evenly when the galley door opened.

Pete paused in it. "I know," he said, quiet. Then he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, moving to sit beside her. He slumped back against the counter, tense even with the relaxed posture.

She waited until he'd settled, then continued: "Barricading the engine room door was beyond the pale, Pete."

"I know," he said again, something stubborn in his voice.

"What if you'd needed help?" She glared at him, suddenly back in that moment, gunshots going, helpless to do anything. "We couldn't get to you."

Pete shook his head. "I was fine."

"You might not have been." Kate huffed out a frustrated breath. "I know Walsman made you feel powerless, and you wanted some of that back, but you can't do that, Pete. We don't bring our issues onto the job. We can't."

He swallowed, something careful in it. "You stopped me, with that Russian bloke. This time, I stopped me. I needed to know that."

Kate scoffed at that patently ridiculous notion. "I could have told you that. It's not in you, killing when you don't have to. You're not that man."

"I couldn't get it out of my head," he said, his voice breaking on it. "I kept seeing it. Killing Walsman with my bare hands. I needed to know."

Seeing the pain in him, Kate softened. "Do you now?"

He met her gaze, clearer than he'd been in a while. "Yeah."

Kate took his hand, squeezing hard. "Don't do that again."

"I won't." He squeezed her hand back, solid and steady. "I don't want to upset you," he added, softer.

Normally, Kate would shove it all down, cool and professional, saying it was fine, but she didn't think that would serve them here. And...she didn't want to. So she looked at him, letting her worry show. "Last week I was trudging through the jungle convinced I was about to find your discarded body. Then a bloody assassin almost gets you in the laundry. And now, you lock yourself in to have a shootout where god knows what happens. It's too much, Pete," she said, hearing her voice shake.

Pete flinched. He turned toward her and wrapped his free arm around her shoulder, his palm soothing on her back as he brought his forehead to hers. "Hey," he said, soft. "I'm here. I'm okay."

Wrapped up in him like this, so close, Kate felt that. Her worry receded, just a little. She blew out a slow breath, letting his presence sink into her. "I need you to stay that way, please."

He slid his hand from her back up to cup her head. "I will, Kate. Anything for you."

Kate sighed and nodded, tucking her chin so she could lean in and rest her forehead against his shoulder, sinking into his hold. She let herself breathe him in, feeling his heart beating against her, his warmth, how very alive he was. She grounded herself in the reality of him here, with her. It was enough.

It had to be.

***

Pete settled after that, back to his old self. Whether it was seeing Walsman get taken back to Australia to be tried for his crimes or that Pete had answered a question for himself, he seemed better. Kate was glad for it.

After they found a fisherman beaten and tied to his ship's wheel to die, Kate joined Pete in the galley, sighing. "Good call on the Bahasa today," she offered, about the only positive she could think of.

"Heard it a bit in East Timor," he said, shrugging. He sipped his tea, shaking his head. "No matter what ET says, he's not okay."

"Yeah," she agreed. "That's probably the human reaction," she reflected. "Think that means there's something wrong with us?" The fisherman's death was sad, for sure, and a tragedy, but Kate wasn't broken up about it like ET was. She wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"I reckon you have to get numb to some of it. If we felt all the tragedy all the time, we wouldn't last long out here."

Kate nodded; true enough. "Hopefully the leave time will help ET shake it off."

"Yeah. I might see if I can take him out, get his mind off it."

Kate nodded, smiling a little. "Just don't let him wander off chasing mercenaries, hey."

Pete shot her a look. "That was one time," he said, light.

Kate laughed, leaning into him—

Which was when the galley door opened and Nikki stepped through. At sight of them, she pulled up short. "...oh," she said, like that answered a question for her.

Discomfort slid down Kate's spine. She had a feeling that had been about her.

As ever, Pete just smiled in welcome, nothing to see here. Not that there was anything to see, of course. "Evening, Nav."

"Buffer. X," she greeted, closing the door behind her. She casually opened the fridge. "What's the word?"

"Leave tomorrow," Pete said with a smile. "Got any big plans?"

Nikki grabbed some carrots and closed the fridge, shaking her head. "Nothing to speak of. You?"

"Footy and beer, of course," he said. He rolled his head to look at Kate. "I reckon the X has thrilling plans to finish up paperwork."

Kate did, in fact, have plans to finish up some paperwork. "You mock me now, but who gets stroppy when promotions papers are late?"

"Not me," he drawled. "You can keep your wreath; I like petty officer just fine."

"Well, now I know who's first in the queue," she shot back.

"I suddenly feel like the boss. Getting threatened with promotion."

"Wait until you find out how many more reports there are. You may regret your lip."

Nikki audibly crunched into a carrot, Kate looking over at her, clocking Pete do the same. She was watching them intently, her eyes wide. At their attention, she startled. "Right. I'll just...be going, then. Back to bed." Like you should be was heavily implied, though Nikki didn't actually say it. After one more beat, she walked out, closing the door behind her.

Kate sighed. "Oh, I'll be hearing about that."

Pete saluted her with his mug. "Good luck."

***

As predicted, Nikki was waiting up when Kate returned. "So that's where you go at night?" she asked, not even bothering with subtlety or pretense or any of it.

Kate shrugged, heading for her rack. "Sometimes."

"At least once a week," Nikki corrected, leaning over her rack to keep eyes on Kate as she got in bed, apparently not letting her treat it as insignificant. "Charge said that Pete often flees their cabin; he feels bad about his snoring causing him to go. But that's not it at all, is it?" Nikki pressed. "Or at least not all of it."

Kate settled in her rack, casual. "I wouldn't know the particulars of Buff's movements."

At which Nikki actually got out of bed and climbed down to perch on Kate's. "Kate. Try as you like, your secret midnight assignations with Pete are not nothing."

Kate made an offended noise as she sat up. "They're not secret assignations. Sometimes when we can't sleep, we end up drinking tea in the galley. It's not a big deal."

Nikki stared at her, blue eyes wide. "I honestly can't tell if you're lying or in denial."

Kate tensed. "I'm not lying," she said, a little indignant. "Or in denial," she added, her heart rate ticking up.

"Uh-huh," Nikki said, not at all convinced. "If it's not a big deal, who have you told about it?"

A prickle of unease slid down Kate's spine. "Why would I?"

Nikki raised a challenging eyebrow. "Why wouldn't you?"

Kate shook her head. "What do you imagine is going on?" Nikki knew them both. She couldn't possibly think—

"Whatever it is, you looked mighty cozy when I walked in. How long have you been doing this?"

"Ever since his mum," Kate said, quiet. "When nobody knew about it, I told him he has to tell people stuff instead of keeping it all inside. So, now, he does."

Nikki softened, going slightly meditative. "I'd noticed you two getting closer. ET said—when you found Pete in the woods, digging his own grave, he said you brought Pete back to himself."

That landed deep in her chest. Kate hadn't considered what that had looked like to others, too focused on Pete. But the entire search party had seen it. The thought gave her pause.

"I'm being a good divisional officer," Kate insisted. That was all it was.

Nikki shot her a bullsh*t look. "Yeah, right, and next I'll catch you snuggling with Ro in the galley," she said, all sarcasm.

A sense of no careened through Kate, just proving Nikki's point. But still. "There's nothing inappropriate happening," she said, stiff. She wouldn't be inappropriate.

Nikki studied her, nodding slowly. "I believe that that's true," she said, a bit of a peace offering.

"Thank you."

"But—and don't feel like you need to say anything to this—but if it should become something...more, don't turn your back on that, hey. Pete's a good man. The best. And some things are more important than the regs." Before Kate could say anything, she climbed back up to her rack.

Kate lay back down, something aching in her chest, though she couldn't understand why. Of course Pete was the best, she knew that. But it wasn't like that between them. They were friends. It had taken a long time to get to that. Kate valued the friendship. It wasn't the tawdry thing Nikki seemed to envision.

So she closed her eyes and determinedly put it out of her mind.

***

ET didn't shake off his bad feeling on leave because ET didn't return from leave. They actually had to sail without him, a first. Nikki was sick with worry, even as she tried to cover it.

The orders to search for missing divers in the Red Reef area seemed to cause some deeper concern for her, though Kate couldn't see why. It was just a mission, like any other.

***

Kate didn't know if she'd ever forget the sound of Nikki's scream.

Finding ET's body on that beach, cold and still, sent shock waves through them all. None more than Nikki, gone inconsolable, clutching ET's body like she could will him back to life.

They'd all known that Nikki and ET had feelings for each other. This was far more than just feelings, though, Kate doing her best to support Nikki, consumed by a terrible grief. But even as she did, Kate thought of what Nikki said—that there were some things more important than the regs. Words spoken from experience, it seemed.

Kate shied from the thought.

***

Trying to find out what happened to ET gave them a focus, a place to hide from their grief. That it seemed like nothing more than a terrible accident made it worse. There was nowhere to lay blame, no one to target with their rage. It was just...wrong.

The whole thing was wrong.

***

"I'm sorry I disobeyed your orders," Pete said as soon as Kate stepped through the galley door.

They were steaming for home port, due to arrive in the morning. For ET's funeral. This was the first still moment they'd had since his death. She should be sleeping. They should both be sleeping. And yet, here they both were. That probably said something, but Kate was too tired to parse it.

Kate shut the door behind her with a sigh. "It's a good thing you did," she admitted, moving to him, collapsing beside him. If she leaned a little harder into him tonight, he didn't protest. "You were right. And it saved both Swain and Spider."

"I was angry," he said, head bowed, remorse in his voice. "I shouldn't have brought it onto the boarding like that. You warned me not to."

"We're all angry," she offered, soft.

"Yeah," he said, not looking up, his shoulders slumped. Something more than grief there, she thought.

Kate reached up and slid her fingers over his head, through his buzzcut, ending at the back of his neck, where she scratched lightly. "What's going on in there?" she asked, soft.

Pete leaned into her touch with some kind of weighty sigh. "I was too hard on him."

"ET?"

He nodded. "I should've gone easier."

Kate frowned. "I never saw that."

"You wouldn't have. It's a blokes thing."

Kate squeezed the back of his neck lightly. "Well, I know I'm a mere woman, but you could try explaining it to me," she drawled, light.

Pete snorted. He glanced over at her, lips quirking slightly, before he looked back down, studying his hands. "ET is—was—very good at his job, but he was a certain type of bloke. All charm. He walked through life charming any woman he pleased, toying with them, before tossing them aside. And they fell for it, every time," he said, bitter. Then he swallowed. "Blokes like that drive me mental. Leaving a path of destruction in their wake. Careless of what's so freely shared with them."

Kate ached for what she heard in that. Because what was so freely shared with guys like ET was not with Pete. ET seduced women as he pleased and dropped them just as easily while all Pete wanted was for a woman to stick around. And none ever did. Kate could see how it would create resentment. "Not every woman would fall for it," she offered.

Pete huffed something frustrated. "Enough." He turned his head to regard her, knowing. "You should be glad he set his sights on the Nav. Chefo was taking bets on which one of you he would go for."

Surprise startled her. "What—me?"

"You're a beautiful woman, Kate. ET saw that," he said, like he was just stating facts.

Kate froze, genuinely shocked now. What? Pete thought she was beautiful?

Some kind of feeling clenched in her chest, but Kate couldn't think about that, it was too much. And besides, he was talking about ET. Which was ridiculous. "I would never," she said, short.

One corner of Pete's mouth curved. "Probably why he went for the Nav."

"You knew about this?" she asked, faintly scandalized.

"I called him on it. Told him the problem with charmers is you never know when they're being straight or when they're doing a number on you."

Kate winced. It was true, of course, but harsh; she understood why he'd regret it now. "Mates fight," she offered. "It doesn't mean the friendship was less."

"I went too hard at him over women. First, the Nav. But we got into it during the Monica thing, too. I was sore about it. He kept acting like the rules that apply to pretty boys like him are the same for me, when we both know that's bunk. I should've just shut my gob. But I didn't." Pete looked down again, something like shame there.

Kate used the hand she had at the back of his neck to pull him to her. He went, ducking his head against her shoulder and slumping into her. "I'm sure he felt the care, too."

Pete's breath hitched against her. "I can't believe he's gone."

"Me, neither," she said, feeling so useless. So she just sat there, holding onto Pete, and hoped it would be enough.

***

The funeral was...hard. Kate knew her red eyes betrayed her, though she mostly kept it together. Pete was like stone, utterly blank, helping lead the proceedings with the steel of a true Navy man. It would be seriously impressive emotional control if Kate didn't suspect it was wildly unhealthy.

But then, that was the Navy for you.

***

"I'm going to kill him," Pete said by way of greeting. Kate stepped through the open galley door, closing it behind her, already knowing where this was going.

She sighed as she sat next to him. "Our new electronics technician is impressing you, I see."

"Don't be surprised if a mysterious rogue wave sweeps 2Dads overboard. The world would be better for it," Pete said, dark.

Kate looked at him askance. That was grim. "What happened?"

"I tried to tell him about ET, how he was special to the Nav. I reckoned no one had told him and maybe if he knew, he'd be less of a f*ckwit. I was wrong," he said, voice full of cold fury.

"What, he didn't care?"

"He mocked it. Went crass. I had to put him into the wall."

Kate's eyebrows rose. "I, of course, know nothing about that," she said in her officer voice.

"Ma'am," he confirmed, instantly slipping into the faithful subordinate.

Kate sighed and shed her XO persona, going softer. "I know he's frustrating, and he's not helping himself, but we have to give him a chance."

Pete put away the subordinate just as easily, shooting her a look of disbelief. "He lied to your bloody face. Repeatedly," he said, as if offended on her behalf.

"Believe me, I'm no fan. But this is who the Navy has given us, so we need to make it work."

It seemed to reach something in him, Pete studying her. "The Navy's lucky to have you," he finally said, soft.

"This is true," she drawled, straight-faced...and then she broke, smiling, nudging his shoulder with her own.

Pete leaned into her with a great heaving sigh. "Fine. I will try not to pitch him overboard."

"All I ask."

***

Boarding the FFV was a standard affair until the stream of cowering women appeared from below...and then rage took hold of Kate. But even worse than the obvious sex trafficking was the sheer indifference she got from Mike as he quoted the laws and procedures at her. She knew the f*cking law. She just...she expected better. He didn't even try to help the women, just washed his hands of it with a sense of resignation. As if Mike Flynn wasn't a man who went outside the rules anytime he pleased.

Apparently now he didn't please to. And Kate couldn't help her disappointment at that.

A woman in labor gave Kate the excuse to save one of them from whatever horrible fate awaited, but as the RHIB sped away from the vessel—which would surely turn back around once the Hammersley was out of sight—she couldn't help the feeling that she'd failed.

The news that the woman died having her baby only compounded the feeling. What the hell were they even doing?

***

Holding the baby was a pale kind of solace. They couldn't save his mother—Yanlin—but from the way Bomber told it, if Swain hadn't been there, the baby would surely have died, too. None of it should be this way, but at least they had done some measure of good in an utterly sh*t situation.

She knew she was pushing things—keeping Yanlin's personal effects, having Ro try and track down her sister, Xiao-Xiao—but she refused to accept the impotence that everyone else seemed to. Nothing would get better unless they tried to make it better.

Kate was determined to try.

***

Bomber had to go fix dinner, so Kate sat with the baby for a while, just looking at him. She had zero experience with babies, so she was glad this one seemed calm enough, just sleeping in his little bundle. She would have no idea what to do about a screaming fit. Call for Swain, probably.

Holding him, feeling the weight of his tiny form, it sent an odd feeling through her. Kate hadn't considered children, really. She'd had hazy, far-off fantasies when she still thought she and Mike could work, but nothing specific. She should probably figure out what she wanted; she was 33, after all. She'd need to decide soon.

The wardroom door opened on Pete, who pulled up short at sight of them. "I heard a rumor you'd gone clucky on us, but I didn't really believe it."

"Oh, shush. Come see the baby," she said, standing to show him.

Pete went careful for some reason, closing the door behind him. "I dunno, X. I reckon I'm missing those maternal instincts."

"That's not what Spider says," she shot back with a smile, moving to him and offering the tiny bundle. "Come on. Hold out your arm."

Despite his obvious reticence, Pete did, Kate placing the baby gently there. Surprisingly, Pete cradled the baby easily, tucking him in just right, swaying a little. Kate stepped back, taking in the formidable, wall of a man so gently holding the baby, his expression inscrutable to her. Melancholy, maybe? A kind of soft feeling fluttered through her at the sight of him holding the baby, so unexpected. Pete didn't notice her regard, just pressed a finger to the baby's chubby cheek. "He's so small."

Kate smiled. "That's what I said."

At the touch, the baby stirred, opening his eyes to look up at Pete, making a soft baby noise. Pete blinked, seeming startled. "Hi," he said to the baby, like he was at a loss. "Welcome to the world, I guess."

The baby made another soft noise and his eyes drifted closed again as he settled. Kate looked to Pete, who seemed shaken. He cleared his throat and looked to her. "Right. I just came to tell you that I sent you my report on the boarding." He thrust his hands out, pushing the baby back at her. "You should probably take this one before I break him."

Kate carefully took the baby back, rocking him a little, even as she watched Pete, whose eyes had gone soft. "Roger. I may not get to the report for a while."

Pete swallowed and nodded. "Ma'am," he said in farewell, heading out, shoulders slightly slumped.

Kate watched him go...and wondered what all that had been about.

***

As they steamed to home port, Yanlin's body stored in the bloody garbage room, Kate still couldn't get over her frustration at the situation. Or, more accurately, at everyone's blasé attitude. She stared at her tea, barely looking up when Pete came to sit by her side. "I know it's hard," he offered.

"I resent feeling like I'm the only one who gives a damn."

"Kate. You're not."

She glared at him. "And what the hell was that out there? 'Don't take it personally?' Really, Pete?"

He scrubbed a hand over his head, sighing. "All I meant was the boss wasn't out to be a prick. And the rest of us aren't unfeeling monsters. We just can't do anything. You know better than anyone, there are strict procedures for this stuff."

"Yeah, well, we don't have to accept it as right," she muttered, her anger deflating. She knew Pete was right. It was just so unfair.

"I admire your compassion," he said eventually, something soft in it.

Kate rubbed at the back of her neck, tired all of the sudden. She studied him, seeing the same in the slump of his shoulders. Which reminded her.

"What was all that with the baby, anyway?"

Pete tensed, an odd reaction. "What do you mean?"

"You couldn't get away from him fast enough."

Pete's expression flickered, giving her the sense that he was trying to decide what to say...and then he kind of deflated. "It just—it reminded me what's not for me, you know? I didn't expect it."

Kate tried to follow that. "What do you mean, not for you?"

He made a helpless gesture. "You know, kids. That whole business."

She stared at him, still trying to understand. "Do you want kids?"

Pete looked trapped for a second before he smoothed his expression. "I reckon I'm missing an ingredient to even think in that direction."

And then illumination dawned. This was his insecurity surfacing, the notion that he'd never find a woman who'd love him back, so parenthood wasn't even worth considering. Sadness swept her at the ways his beliefs about himself colored so many other things. She took his hand, squeezing tight. "You can have what you want, Pete. I do believe that."

To that, he said nothing at all.

***

Kate's persistence at shaming Mike finally paid off, Mike ordering the Hammersley to Indigo Point in search of Xiao-Xiao. She felt like she was getting closer as she walked away from the ship for fake-R&R with Pete, Charge, 2Dads, and Bomber into the truly depressing town proper.

"Now, X, don't take this the wrong way," Pete said, dropping an arm around her shoulders and leaning close, "But this is not the kind of place that a woman should be walking around on her own."

Some kind of feeling stole through her at his easy playfulness, but Kate kept it off her face. "Normally, I would be offended, but I take your point," she shot back, getting one of his quirked smiles for it, even as he backed off. Making a point to all the men that she could feel watching them, it seemed.

Kate could feel Pete's protectiveness as they searched for clues to Xiao-Xiao—urging her to stay close, constantly glancing her way, ensuring she was okay—and oddly, it didn't feel stifling. She was relieved not to have to worry about her surroundings; Pete would take care of that and she could focus on finding the information they needed. It was...freeing, in an entirely unexpected way.

***

After they'd busted the floating brothel and found Xiao-Xiao, steaming for home port to reunite her with her newborn nephew, Kate collapsed against Pete in the galley, utterly emotionally exhausted. She'd spent so long railing against the situation, to have solved it was a heady kind of relief, even as she still felt drained.

Pete ran a soothing hand over her hair, Kate pressing into the touch. "You did good today, Kate," he said, low.

"I got too emotionally invested," she admitted, even if she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But sometimes that's justified."

Kate sighed, leaning against him. "You want to tell me what happened with Swain on the ship?" she asked, making sure it didn't seem demanding. Kate had seen Swain haul the trafficking captain outside, sweating, both of them bruised. She could guess what went down, but wondered at the particulars.

Pete's body tensed against her, so Kate reached out, running a hand down his arm, soothing. "Not to get him in trouble. I just want to know."

"I didn't see it," he said, like he wanted to be clear on that. "But he ran into that trafficker who stabbed him and I reckon he took that opportunity to exorcise some demons."

"Yeah," she said, grim. "Swain's got a bit of darkness to him, doesn't he?"

"We all do," Pete said in that way that meant he was never going to condemn anyone for what he himself had done.

"It's just unexpected with him because he comes off the responsible, respectable one. The medic, the copper, the dad. And then he goes and beats the tar out of someone he doesn't have to."

Pete shrugged, the movement shifting her where she leaned into him. "Swaino's a lot more conflicted than he lets on. And he's better at hiding it than anyone on ship."

"Except you," she added, looking up at him pointedly.

"Can't imagine what you mean. I'm an open book," he drawled, his lips quirking.

"Sure, you are," she deadpanned.

"Glad we're in agreement on that," he said easily. "But if we're after-actioning this mission, I did enjoy the part where you called me cute," he said with his teasing grin, nudging her, lightening things.

Kate's words came back to her—he's cute, isn't he?—a taunt thrown at her catcallers, poking at the inevitable hom*ophobia of men like that...but she hadn't expected Pete to call her on it. An odd sort of flush swept through her.

She covered it, regarding him evenly. "Well, you've no spiky hair, but I suppose you're all right."

Pete made an offended noise. "Foul play, Kate. Using my misguided youth against me."

"Better than getting told you look like a prostitute," she shot back.

Pete grinned. "Those f*cksticks think every woman is a working girl. They had no idea they'd stumbled on a bit of class—the very definition of a proper lady."

She poked him in the side, startling a laugh from him. "Now you're just mocking me."

He caught her hand with a smile, wrapping it in his own so she'd stop poking at him. "Never," he promised, like he truly meant it.

Kate let the warmth of it slip through her, leaning close. She'd take that.

***

And then they plucked the luckiest sailor in the world out of the water near the wreckage of his ship, when they hadn't even been looking for him. Geoff Kershaw, formerly a Navy lieutenant, was co*cky and arrogant, with the kind of gaze that never let her forget she was a woman.

Kate didn't trust him at all.

When he turned out to be trafficking stolen weapons, Kate allowed herself the satisfaction of a character well-judged.

***

Pete was avoiding her.

It was nothing obvious, but Kate knew the rhythm of the ship. There were always times when she'd expect to see him—meeting his eyes across the boat deck, passing in the galley corridor, afternoon rounds. They didn't even need to say anything, but it was a look, a nod, an acknowledgment of the other.

In the day since the Feds had picked up Geoff Kershaw and his mates, Pete was suspiciously absent from places he should be. The Hammersley was due in port the next morning, the crew off to leave thereafter, so Kate knew she needed to suss it out tonight. If Pete was avoiding her, there was a reason. She needed to know what it was.

So when he came to relieve her for his watch, she didn't just do the perfunctory nod and retreat that was their usual. She leveled him with a pointed look as she said, "Buffer has the ship."

The flicker in his expression said he got it. "Buffer has the ship," he echoed, quieter. Cowed.

Good.

***

Pete was waiting in the galley when she entered, still wearing his DPNU pants and gray shirt. She took her seat next to him, quiet. Curious. But Pete didn't say anything, just stared off at the deck, mind working over something.

Eventually, Kate broke the silence. "I know something happened. I'd like to know what."

He took a shaky breath. "When everyone was eating, after the boss asked where Kershaw was, I went looking for him." He shook his head once. "I found him." He swallowed, looking down at his hands. "The boss had, too. Kershaw was threatening him, in a roundabout sort of way. Saying he knew a secret. How when the boss ran the navigation course at Watsons Bay, he'd had an affair with his student. A pretty little blond thing."

Kate's gut dropped out. She tried not to react, frozen, as she watched Pete stare at his hands and refuse to look at her. Because he knew now.

"Kershaw threatened to tell the brass," Pete continued, this just getting worse and worse. "The boss didn't dignify it, but still. I know him. Or I thought I did," he added, something bitter in it.

Kate swallowed against the terrible tightness in her chest. She'd never wanted Pete to know this. She didn't like thinking of her affair with Mike and she didn't want people assuming things about her because of it. She had firmly closed the door with Mike. It was all best left in the past.

But she didn't have that option any longer, it seemed. She took a calming breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Pete did look at her then, going a little stiff. "You didn't have to. It's not my business."

Kate gestured to him. "I keep saying you have to tell people things. It's not right if I don't do the same." Because if they were friends, it needed to be reciprocal. She knew that, and she did, generally, just not with this one thing. She'd shied from Pete's judgment.

Dammit, Kershaw.

He looked away again, his face going guarded. "You two—I thought it was some ships passing thing. That you'd met at one of your wankjob officers' conferences or whatever and it was unfinished. And then you landed here and still couldn't finish it. I didn't think it was...this."

That struck Kate—not only had he clocked their relationship, he'd spent time theorizing about what their connection could have been and how it played forward to their current dynamic. But she still didn't understand the unhappiness she could read in him. It didn't seem to be directed at her, but then, she couldn't tell where it was directed. "Why are you upset?" she asked, keeping it soft and non-accusatory. There was something important here, she just couldn't see the shape of it.

Pete's look was frank. "Look, I'm not some wowser, kowtowing to the rules. Senior sailors know the life. If there's some bending of the frat regs among our lot, so long as it doesn't interfere with the ship, whatever. But with juniors? Cadets? Absolutely the f*ck not."

Kate stared at him, boggled, but also somehow still not understanding. "What?"

His expression said she should understand. "I get that I'm not an officer. I don't have all the pretty words that let blokes talk the wrong thing into the right one. But I know what it means to be senior crew. It's a position of trust. It's our job to take plebs and turn them into proper sailors. Not shove our co*cks in them," he said, uncharacteristically crass.

Kate raised her eyebrows as it all clicked into place. Pete wasn't judging her. He was judging Mike. He was taking offense that Mike had seemingly abused his position.

It sent her reeling. That perspective had never even occurred to her. Kate knew, from how these things went, that if the whole business were to come out, she would get the blame—for being a slag, a temptress, an undisciplined girl leading a promising leader astray. For Pete to go the other way with it was unfathomable.

"It...wasn't like that," she tried, not knowing how to approach this.

Pete looked at her askance. "The f*ck it wasn't. He was bending you over at night and marking you during the day. It would be like—like—if I was shagging Bomber when she first came aboard. It was my job to train her, to get her sorted, not to perv on her. I thought—I thought Mike was better than that," he said, the ire draining out of him. Into disappointment, she thought.

Kate stared at him, at this loss of faith. She didn't think she'd ever heard Pete use Mike's name.

Finally, she found her voice. "You're not wrong about the principle, but it's not what you're thinking," she said, realizing she would have to get into it. It wouldn't be right to let Pete come away with the wrong interpretation. "I pursued him."

Pete shot her a look that called bullsh*t. "I know you're irresistible, Kate, but it's literally his job to resist that sort of thing. He only had to for a few months, tops. Have an affair after the course, if you like. And he couldn't even do that? Come on." He shook his head, that sense of disappointment flaring again. A hero lost. "Mike Flynn is not who I thought. And that's...hard."

Kate placed a hand on his arm, squeezing in comfort. "People have weak moments."

He met her eyes. "There's weak moments and there's weak people. You made a mistake in the past? Fair enough. But I've seen what's been going on. The way he shot looks at you all while going after Dr. Morell. His short fuse with Roth. I'm sure there's more I didn't see. That I don't see," he added, putting it in the present tense.

"No," she said instantly, not stopping to think about it. "That's all in the past."

Pete stilled, eyes tracking her, unblinking. There was something very careful in him as he said, "Is it."

Kate's heart pounded at the way he watched her, but she just swallowed and nodded. "I put it in the past. After he was injured on Samaru."

Something flickered in his expression, but he looked away too fast for her to read it. "I know it's not my business, but I think that's wise."

"It's—we can talk about these things," she said because it seemed necessary to be clear about the bounds of their friendship, even if talking about it did make her screamingly uncomfortable. "I'm trying to do better," she added; she didn't want him thinking she would still behave so.

Pete looked back at her, his eyes so soft. "You deserve better," he said.

Kate had nothing to say to that.

***

It lingered at the back of her mind, Kate suddenly aware of Pete's opinion. She didn't want him to think less of her. She didn't want things to change between them, but these sorts of revelations often did just that. And she had no control over it, which was entirely frustrating.

So the next time they met in the galley, she couldn't help but be on the lookout for it. Pete had seemed fine during the days aboard since, but then, that was just normal ship operations. Nothing special there. As she sat next to him, a mug of tea in hand, she wondered if he would betray some diminished view of her.

The thought stung.

Not that she would let him see her concern, of course. "I got the paperwork about Tobler going for petty officer. You're okay with it?" she asked him.

He took a sip from his mug, nodding. "He's a good bloke. I can trust him with the boys, he doesn't muck about, keeps it professional."

"It'll probably mean more work for you. You know how people get distracted, even when they don't mean to."

"Yeah, we talked about it. It's fine. I can adjust the shifts to help. And I gave him some tips about studying. It won't impact ship operations."

Kate nodded. "Okay. I'll talk to the CO, get the process started."

"Thanks, Kate." It was all so collegial and respectful and normal that it sent a rush of relief through her. Pete wasn't treating her any differently. Despite how hard he'd taken her exploits with Mike, he didn't hold it against her. It shouldn't matter so much, but it unquestionably did, Kate beyond grateful for it. Things didn't have to change.

Pete made a thoughtful noise. "Just so you know, I'm putting in for a couple days' leave. Don't want you to be surprised."

Kate swallowed down her lingering emotion and tried to focus. It was unlike Pete to take leave outside their normal schedule.

"Everything okay?" she asked, curious.

He nodded. "Mum's estate is getting finalized. And there's a buyer for her flat. So it's a bunch more paperwork to sign and legal stuff to go over."

He didn't seem upset about it, so Kate let herself smile, small. "That sounds like good news. Has everything gone all right with it?"

He nodded again. "Sullivan says it's been smooth sailing. I haven't had to do much. And Mrs. Lucas showed the flat for me. She says the buyer's nice. A couple with a new bub buying their first place. Mum would like that," he added, softer.

Kate took his hand. "How are you feeling about it all?"

"It's weird, you know? Once it's all signed, she's really just gone, in every way. But it's—it's okay. I'm doing okay," he said, contemplative, like he'd really considered it. Back when she passed, he never would have offered all that. Some kind of satisfaction shivered through her that now he did.

Kate nodded, squeezing his hand. "Good. Well, we'll miss you."

Pete seemed to shake himself, getting back to the distance of logistics. "Right. It's not for long. I put in a suggestion for someone to take my place. A bloke trained by the Kingston buffer."

Kate shot him a mock-betrayed look. "Consorting with the enemy," she teased.

He quirked a smile. "How do I live with myself," he deadpanned. Then he went serious: "The bloke—Brickie—he's newer to the job, kind of stuck in limbo. He's capable of handling a patrol boat, but a frigate would be too much for him and those are the only openings right now. So he's been kicking around. I've already had an email from him; he's excited about the idea."

Kate nodded. "I'll keep him on the ship, have him handle things here without getting distracted by boardings. The others can cover that until you're back."

"Good idea. I'll talk to Swaino and the rest, let 'em know the standards I expect them to uphold in my absence. And I'll brief Brickie on our quirks."

"Quirks? The Hammersley?" she drawled, innocent.

"It'll be a long conversation," he said, dry.

Kate grinned.

***

It was weird, having Pete gone. He was right; Brickie was entirely capable—good with the boys, fully on top of the ship's operations, earnest and eager to help. He didn't even protest not going on boardings, just offered, "Buff said, 'trust that the X knows best.' No dramas here, ma'am."

But she—she missed Pete. It wasn't like leave, where they were all gone at the same time, so there was a different rhythm to things. Kate was used to having Pete with her on the Hammersley and kept getting distracted that he was not. In a professional sense, yes, but she also missed knowing there was someone she could bounce ideas off of. She could with Nikki, to an extent, but it wasn't the same, their training too similar, making them think along the same lines. But Kate also just...missed the jokes and the taunting of the boys and catching sight of card games as she passed in the corridors. Swain was a little quieter, 2Dads was amazingly louder, Nikki more overtly emotional, and even Ro was tetchier than normal. Which was saying something. Everywhere she looked, there was the sense that things were just slightly off.

So to see him stride up to the gangway in jeans and one of his ridiculous aqua t-shirts, sea bag slung over his shoulder, filled Kate with relief. She smiled and headed for him, watching as he saluted on his way aboard, then caught sight of her, his eyes warming in response.

"Ahoy there, sailor," she said as she approached, unable to help her smile.

His lips quirked. "Personally welcomed back by the X," he drawled, like it was an honor. "Didja miss me?"

"I wept in my cabin every night," she deadpanned, getting a flash of a smile. "How'd your leave go?"

"All good, X. Got everything tied up in a bow." His words were light, casual, but underneath that she got the sense of moving on. Like he had put it all in the past and now was looking forward.

"I'm glad," she said simply, feeling that.

He seemed to read it in her, his casual manner deepening into appreciation. At the sound of boots behind her, he wiped it away, back to the serious professional as a couple of the juniors headed by them and off ship, saluting as they went. "How was Brickie?" he asked.

"Capable and helpful. It was a good choice."

His eyes sparkled. "Who woulda thought. It's almost like I know something."

She shook her head at him. "I'm sure the officer who signed off on the choice will take all the credit."

"Well, we can't upset the natural order of things, hey."

Kate laughed.

***

The snatch party to the FFV in their patrol of foreign waters was all routine until the master of the vessel lost it on her, shoving her back, shouts erupting—

Kate fell, right into Pete, the two of them sprawling back to the deck. Kate found herself on top of him, their faces close, his body hard under hers. Time slowed to a crawl, Kate conscious of the feel of him underneath her, his hand on her back, cradling her close, her hand pressed to his chest between them. Her heart pulsed as he stared up at her, expression open, his face right there—

"You all right there, Buff?" 2Dads' voice slammed her back into real time, Pete easing her off his body.

A hot flush rushed through her as she scrambled to her feet, Pete saying, "Excuse me, ma'am," as he righted himself.

"Sorry," she said quickly.

"It's all right," he said, just as quick.

But when she turned to the others, all she could see were their smirks—Spider and 2Dads trying not to laugh at what just happened. Beyond them, Swain kept his expression carefully blank. Its own kind of accusation.

"Search the boat," Kate ordered, putting the demand in her voice, 2Dads instantly hopping to.

But as Spider turned to do the same, his, "Yes, ma'am," held stifled laughter that sent embarrassment rushing through her anew.

What the hell was that?

Even as the others searched, Kate kept running through it, confused by her own reaction, the maelstrom of her thoughts, all overlaid with a sweaty kind of shakiness that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of a mission. She was familiar with that feeling. This one was entirely new.

She swallowed it all down to do her job, even as inside, she reeled.

***

Kate sank into the procedure of it, letting herself be soothed by the rhythms of prisoner transfer and all the paperwork that entailed, never giving her the chance to think.

And then it was over, Kate walking back to the ship with Mike, discussing their upcoming mission, as the crew streamed out, off to unexpected R&R, filled with the joy of it. After Mike warned them not to drink themselves blind, they all headed out—

Except Pete, who paused to look at her. "Coming, X?"

Kate suddenly felt caught, awkward. "Uh, I—I've got paperwork that I need to catch up on." Pete nodded, unconcerned, so Kate added, "Have a good night."

But as she walked away, she heard 2Dads' voice drifting back to her, mocking Pete: "'Are you coming, X?'" And then Swain: "Please, X." Followed by teasing laughter.

It sent another rush of heat through her, putting her right back in that moment aboard the FFV. Clearly the others hadn't forgotten, amused at her expense. And Pete's, it seemed.

Discomfort crawled up her spine, the sense of being caught that she didn't understand. Kate swallowed it all down, calling out to Mike about their mission.

She had work to do.

***

And then Ro went and got so drunk he got himself arrested, so Kate didn't have time to think about...anything. Which was better. Because there was nothing to think about.

***

The ship rhythm returned to normal after that, everyone buzzing about Ro's arrest and Pete and Spider's matching tattoos, so Kate just put the whole business behind her. Weird things happened on boardings. They were nothing to obsess over. Better to just lock it all down and move on.

***

Which was easy to say when she wasn't walking into the ship's office to find Pete sitting at one of the computers, idly tugging his gray shirt off like he commonly got half-naked on a whim. Which, to be fair, he kind of did. Kate couldn't help but notice the white tattoo bandage bright against his tan skin.

"Oh, sorry, Buff," Kate said, feeling that awkwardness flare again, even as she tried to force it down.

"No," he reassured, holding up a hand with a smile. "My apologies."

"I just want to check my emails," she said, halting, as she headed for the other computer.

"Yeah, yeah, go for it, go for it," he said, just sitting there shirtless like it was no big deal.

Which it wasn't, of course.

"'Kay," she muttered, taking the seat beside him.

"I just finished my watch and this thing is driving me nuts," Pete said, reaching back to rip off his bandage.

"Yeah, I heard you and Spider got matching tattoos," she said, even, trying not to look at all the skin on display.

Pete was totally comfortable, turning to her as he said, "Spider disgraced himself, wimped out."

Kate kept her eyes on his. "I don't blame him. Personally, I don't see the attraction in the tattoo."

"It's a form of self-expression, X."

"It is an infliction of pain," she corrected and suddenly it felt like their nights in the galley, the two of them going back and forth, easy and light.

Pete leaned forward, elbows on his knees, expression knowing. "It's a fine line between pleasure and pain, XO," he drawled, smiling at her. Kate couldn't help but smile back as he continued: "Especially for something special."

She just scoffed, looking to her email—

"So what do you reckon?"

Kate looked over—

To find that Pete was showing her his back...where a large red heart tattoo now lived, XO inscribed along the banner across it.

Kate's entire world froze. Pete just looked at her, guileless, like he expected an answer—

She had no idea what to say. Heat rushed through her, a dim ringing in her ears, time seeming to slow again as her heart pounded.

"What do you think?" Pete prompted again.

Kate quailed, finally forcing out: "Special," her voice shaking. "I um, I—uh—I can't get this email to work, I'll check it later," she said, rushing out of her chair and to the door. "I'll just, um—" And then she was out in the corridor, out of that horrible moment, but her heart was still pounding, sweat springing up all over.

What the hell?

***

Kate took refuge in her cabin, Nikki thankfully on the bridge, so she wasn't there to see Kate pacing, sucking in calming breaths because what the actual hell had just happened?

There was no way that Pete had gone and got himself a heart tattoo with XO on it. That was—that made no sense. They were—they were friends. Comrades. They were close, very close these days, but it wasn't—it wasn't like that.

Unbidden, Nikki's words from months ago came back to her: if it should become something more, don't turn your back on that.

But...it wasn't, she insisted to herself. He was Pete. Her rock, her comfort, her confidant. He was—

Dimly, Kate realized that she wouldn't be near shaking in her cabin if there wasn't something here. She sucked in a breath as everything else dropped away, a single question careening through her: did she feel something more?

Feeling something in her chest clench, Kate dropped into the chair, gaze gone sightless. She could tell herself whatever she wanted, her body was saying something else, everything hot and aware at the thought of this, Kate's body suddenly feeling too big for her skin.

Her mind drifted back to falling on top of him, to her complete distraction at the feel of his body underneath hers. To the warmth she always felt leaning against him in the galley, his frame soothing beside her. To the way she touched his jaw for all to see after they'd rescued him from digging his own grave. To the sense of rightness at his mum's place, Pete curled up behind her in bed, his arm slung over her waist. To the welcome she felt every time they were close, like that was exactly how it should be.

f*ck.

***

Kate couldn't hide in her cabin forever, no matter what...feelings she may be harboring. And she didn't even know what those feelings were, other than overwhelming. But still, she had a job to do, so she ventured out, filing reports, going about the business of the ship and trying to put it out of her mind—

Then she spotted Pete coming up the stairs. And she just...couldn't. She reversed direction—

But of course he'd spotted her, too, calling out, "X? Can I have a word?"

Kate obviously checked her watch—an affectation, as if she had a meeting—but relented, joining him. "Sure."

Pete looked at her directly, not shying away. "Um. The tattoo. It's an unfortunate misunderstanding with the artist," he said, shaking his head.

What? What the hell did that mean?

But Kate kept it off her face. "You really don't need to explain," she said, reassuring.

"No, look, I feel like I do need to explain," he said, waving his hands more than she'd ever seen from him. Which was when Williams turned the corner, his eyes widening at sight of them. Pete stopped talking, edging closer to her to let Williams pass, waiting until he'd gone.

Kate looked down, trying not to react to his closeness—

Then Pete was thankfully stepping back. "I don't want anything to affect our relationship. I think we work really well together. And we always have," he said, clearly choosing his words carefully, even as he was shaking his head again, like his own body was disagreeing with him trying to downplay this. "You watch my back, I watch your back, in a professional way," he said, still shaking his head, gesturing helplessly throughout.

Everything in his posture screamed discomfort, so Kate jumped in. "Yes, of course we do," she said, the two of them nodding at each other. Too much nodding now.

"Am I making myself clear or..." he trailed off, helpless.

"Yeah, absolutely," Kate said quickly, just wanting out of this moment, awkward like they never were with each other. She hated it. "Look, Buff, don't stress. It's really—it's a non-issue," she said, walking away, turning the corner and leaving him behind.

Only once she'd done so could she take a full breath.

And what the hell was that?

***

Kate took refuge in her cabin again...and it gave her the space to think.

She'd never seen Pete like that. He was defensive, uncomfortable, using careful professional words even as his body language disagreed with what he was saying. He was lying, she realized.

Just like she had been lying—saying it was a non-issue, when clearly that wasn't true. Since when did they both lie to each other like that?

There were feelings there, she realized. She knew it was true on her side, even if she hadn't parsed exactly what those feelings were. But after that conversation, she could see it in Pete, too.

They'd both gone and caught feelings for their shipmate. And Kate had no idea what to do with that.

***

Then Spider found a bomb planted among the stores they'd just brought aboard, so thankfully she didn't have time to obsess over any feelings, what with the threat of death hanging over everything.

An explosive device shouldn't be a relief...and yet it undeniably was. It probably said something that Kate would rather deal with a bomb than her feelings...but whatever, she had an evacuation to oversee.

***

They evacuated everyone to the RHIBs, Kate leading one and Pete the other. But the bad news just kept coming. A hostile vessel pierced their exclusion zone, which meant they had to take the RHIBs and board it, only for the vessel to open fire on them. Her people quickly subdued the hostiles on deck, but then she heard one had gone below, likely trying to remotely detonate the bomb on the Hammersley. And she didn't even think: "Buffer, with me."

It probably said something that even with all the weirdness, she still turned to Pete in an emergency. But as they headed below, she put that out of her mind.

They had bigger problems.

***

They found the final hostile, Ro and 2Dads thankfully ridding the ship of the bomb, and it all ended as well as could be expected. In the chaos of getting everyone back aboard, Spider found Kate, pulling her aside. "X, can I talk to you?"

"What is it, Spider?" she asked, wondering at his abashed energy.

"Yeah, so it's about Buff's tattoo." She startled, heat sweeping her, though thankfully Spider didn't seem to notice amidst his halting explanation: "It was—I was wasted, you see, and it was supposed to be a joke. I don't even really remember, but I guess I paid the tattoo guy to change it, so I just thought—I thought you should know."

Kate stared at him, feeling too many things at once. The whole thing was a mistake, a practical joke gone awry. It didn't need to be a huge thing.

But then, that ship had sailed, hadn't it? At least for Kate. Now she was aware of the feeling in her chest when she thought of Pete, even if she still couldn't put a name to it. And some part of Pete must be aware, too. No way he would get that defensive otherwise.

And yet. This was an excuse, she realized. They could ignore it and move on.

Yes. That was what they would do. They could go back to the way things were.

She swallowed down everything she was feeling and favored Spider with her officer's stare. "I'm very disappointed in you, Seaman Webb."

***

R&R gave Pete the chance to get the tattoo fixed, Kate spotting him returning from Paulie's shop. Spider intercepted him first, Pete hiking up his navy blue t-shirt to show the white bandage on his back. Spider peeled it up as Kate joined him, revealing the tattoo just for the two of them to see—now a heart with its banner filled in, a snake behind it. No hint of the incriminating XO that used to live there. It was kind of a silly tattoo, but better than the alternative, she supposed.

Kate shot Spider a firm look. Chagrined, he smoothed the bandage back down. Pete lowered his shirt, turning to meet her eyes. "Listen, X—"

"No, you don't need to say a word," Kate preempted, looking to Spider. "Spider has explained everything."

Pete promptly accepted the out, likely realizing what she had—nothing good could come of anything else; best to take the excuse and be glad. As one, they sat on the low couch, Spider standing awkwardly before them. "Uh, I guess it's my shout then," he said, halting. "What'll it be?"

Pete stared him down. "The most expensive drink in the house."

Kate lifted two fingers. "Two," she added with a sweet smile.

And as Charge arrived, making a big deal about his tray of guava mojos while the others fell all over themselves about them, Pete looked to her, a kind of vulnerability in his eyes. "We're all right, hey?" he asked, quiet, like he wanted to be sure.

Kate shot him a warm look. "Yeah," she said, soft. "We're good."

But as they sat back and watched the others take their ill-advised drinks, Kate realized she was hyper-aware of the arm Pete had slung along the couch behind her. His heat tingled along her back, even though they barely touched. And she just knew:

This would be a problem.

***

Thankfully, things didn't really change after that. They still ran the ship together, they still went on boardings together, and it was all smooth and easy, like clockwork. But Kate noticed herself noticing him now. When she spotted him overseeing the boys on the boat deck, she realized how her eyes lingered on his shoulders. She'd thought it was just respect, before. And it was. But it was also appreciation, something that sent warmth flowing through her, made her heart beat just that little bit faster.

It was possible she'd been ignoring some things.

***

When they had a search and rescue mission that took them to Victory Day Island, Kate respected it when Mike ordered her to stay behind and command the ship while he led the team into the island's radioactive interior. Though Mike had his faults, that was the move of a leader. For you could never ask your crew to do what you would not do yourself. The crew had to see that they were all in it together.

Which was why, when they realized there was still a young woman missing on the island, Kate knew she'd be leading this second mission into the interior, where the radiation levels were higher. Nikki's team could stay near the beach.

Of course she assigned Pete to come with her. There was no one she'd rather have at her back.

***

They found the young woman, Jessica, within their designated time limit, Kate letting herself feel the relief of it. She hated putting her people at risk; the sooner they could get everyone out, the better.

And then Bomber literally fell off a cliff.

***

Kate betrayed herself, she knew. When Bomber slipped and Pete grabbed for her, Spider yelled for Bomber. But Kate, she yelled for Pete.

She hoped, in the high emotion of it, no one noticed.

Bomber lay below them on a ridge just above the water—the water that had collected in the crater caused by a nuclear bomb—unmoving and unresponsive. Spider was beside himself, Kate having to hold him back as Pete carefully tested the edge of the cliff, seeing how far over they could go.

He completed his explorations, slowly drawing back from the edge and coming to join them. "Yeah, I don't like how unstable that is, X."

"We have to get to her!" Spider insisted.

Kate shot him a hard look. "We have equipment coming. It will do Bomber no good if we tumble down after her."

Pete nodded. "Until they get here, I can anchor Spider so he can move further down and get a better look, maybe see if Bomber's breathing."

"Yeah, let's go," Spider said instantly, just needing to do something.

Pete held up a hand, staying him as he looked to Kate for her orders. After a moment, she nodded. "Okay, but any instability and you pull back, you hear?"

"Yes, X," they chorused, both heading off to the edge, working out how to safely navigate it.

Kate checked on Jessica, who was doing okay, then turned to watch as Pete held onto Spider's legs as Spider inched his way over the edge, peering down at Bomber below.

He shouted for her, but got no response, his calls getting increasingly frantic as she stayed silent. They were too far up to see if she was even breathing, Kate's stomach pitching at the idea that she might not be.

But no, she couldn't think like that. Bomber would be fine.

Which was when Kate's watch timer beeped. Pete heard it, looking over at her with concerned eyes. Mike had told her, no matter what, when their time was up, they were to leave the island. Radiation exposure limits were a hard line. But it wasn't like Kate was about to abandon Bomber at the bottom of the cliff, so she shut off the alarm. It would be what it would be.

Thankfully, Swain and 2Dads arrived with the gear and lines. Kate moved to update Swain—

Spider came out of nowhere, shoving Swain to the ground. "This is your fault! You're the first medic, she shouldn't even be here!"

"Spider!" Kate yelled.

"No, it should be him lying down here, ma'am!" he yelled back.

"No, you are out of line!" she shouted, physically backing him up, away from Swain. "You're out of line!"

With it, Kate realized what this was—Spider had feelings for Bomber. Feelings that were making him not only useless here, but actively interfering with what needed to be done.

Which was the whole reason for the frat regs and the ban on relationships between shipmates. So that this didn't happen.

Kate ignored that thought and any implications for herself. As Swain picked himself up and got ready to rappel down the cliff, Pete helping with his harness, Kate ordered Spider and 2Dads to take Jessica to the beach. It was a testament to how far in his feelings Spider was that he actually tried disagreeing with her orders. Like they were optional.

Eventually, Spider relented, demanding that Kate radio him with Bomber's status. As if he were in any position to give her orders. But of course Kate would update him, as she would anyone, so she sent them off, glad to be rid of the high emotion.

Which left her with Pete and Swain, who was finishing securing his harness, almost ready. Kate was glad to see Pete already in his own harness, anchored so that he wouldn't go over. That eased one of her worries.

As Swain rappelled down to Bomber, Kate realized she'd have to deal with the Spider and Bomber situation when this was all done. She wondered if it was hypocritical to call Spider out for his feelings when Kate was harboring feelings for a shipmate herself. The difference was, she had never let it get in the way of the ship's operations, nor had Pete. But it still felt vaguely wrong.

She put it out of her mind, focusing on Swain as he reached Bomber below. Hearing that she was alive was a relief, Kate shooting Pete a grateful look. He returned it, a tension in him easing. He had been kicking himself for dropping Bomber, she realized, even though it had been a stroke of insane luck that he'd managed to grab hold of her at all. Kate made a mental note to tell him that later.

As Swain assessed Bomber, Kate and Pete set up the winch they'd use to hoist her. Once that was done, he turned to her. "If you're gonna be near the edge, I want you in a harness, ma'am."

Kate nodded, taking the one he offered and stepping into it. Pete helped her secure it, moving behind her, tugging the straps around her hips into place and tightening them. She suddenly found herself aware of him, in her personal space now. Of course he did that all the time, helping with her boarding kit, but now it felt different, some kind of energy curling under her skin, her heart rate ticking up.

Dammit.

"Okay, you're good," Pete said, hooking her into the line and releasing her, Kate letting out a soft breath at it.

If he noticed, he didn't react, stepping to her side. He looked at his watch. "I'd really like to get you out of here, X," he muttered, worry in his voice.

Kate took him in, realizing she could see his worry—

And then the obvious hit her. He'd lost his mum to cancer, less than a year ago. And here they were, exposing themselves to dangerous levels of radiation. It had to bring it to the front of his mind.

"How are you doing?" she asked him softly.

He met her gaze, not hiding from her when it was just the two of them. "I'll feel better when you're back on ship."

"I'll feel better when we all are," she said, gentle, grateful for the honesty. Grateful that everything with the tattoo hadn't stuffed up their dynamic.

"Yeah," Pete agreed, like she made a good point...but he still stood by his.

Kate tried not to let that warm her.

She tried.

***

Swain got Bomber stabilized and they set about using the winch to pull them both up—

And then the rope f*cking snapped, sending Swain and Bomber into the contaminated water below.

Maybe Spider was right. Maybe the island was cursed.

***

They hurried down the hill, going around the other side, and then they were all rushing through knee-high contaminated water, splashing about, sending god only knew what into the air to breathe in as they tried to reach Swain and Bomber.

Only to realize someone else had pulled them out. Because there was someone else on the island.

Kate could feel Pete's tension at finding the footprints of that unknown party, even though they had helped, not harmed them.

Back on the beach, when they spotted a figure in the jungle, Kate couldn't just leave them behind. So she ordered Pete to return to the ship with Swain and Bomber as she stayed to find their benefactor. She could tell Pete wanted to argue...but he didn't.

He just looked to 2Dads and called, "2Dads, watch your XO's back."

Kate carried his concern with her as she headed into the jungle. She wouldn't let it interfere with her duties, but it was—it was nice, knowing that he cared for her so. She'd constructed a persona for herself—strong and capable and in control—so people never worried for her. Instead they looked to her for reassurance.

It was nice to have someone just thinking about her wellbeing for once.

***

They found the mystery man and brought him back to the Hammersley, where Swain met them with a quick rundown of the decontamination procedure. Tepid showers on deck to wash off the radiation and ensure the contaminated water didn't get into the ship's system. No scrubbing because they didn't want to break the skin and allow any radiation into their systems. The women needed to wash their hair with shampoo, but no conditioner. All their clothes and boots would be bagged in plastic and sent off for proper decontamination when they returned to home port.

They'd been setting up the showers while Kate had collected the last man from the island, so they let the women get clean first. Kate and Nikki donned their bathers and helped Bomber with her shower, her wound covered so no more contaminated water could get in.

Kate noted that the only sailors out during their shower were the few women juniors. When she had finished, wrapped in a towel and headed inside, she stopped one of them. "Chelsea, why are there only women on deck?"

"Orders, ma'am. Buff put the fear of god into the blokes. Good luck to anyone who crosses him," Chelsea said, dry.

"Of course," Kate said because it was so very Pete to think ahead like that, to avoid a situation where the male crew would be in position to ogle them. Especially the officers. "Thanks."

***

Kate waited for Pete in the galley that night, glad for the calming tea after everything. When Pete joined her, he seemed tired.

"Not one of our better days," she offered, wry.

"You said it," he agreed, slumping back against the cabinet.

"Everyone all right?"

He shrugged. "Much as they can be. Swain's stewing. He and Sal are trying for another and now he's worried about it."

Understanding settled over Kate. No wonder he'd tried to stay off the island. "Ah."

"I don't reckon it's sunk in yet for Bomber. Maybe after some sleep."

Kate held his eyes. "That was really incredible, you know. The way you caught hold of her."

Pete's expression filled with disbelief. "I dropped her."

"You slowed her fall. It could have been so much worse if she'd fallen any other way. It helped, Pete."

He still didn't look like he believed her. "If you say so."

Kate supposed it was enough that he heard her, even if he didn't agree. "And what do you reckon about Spider and Bomber?" she asked, curious. "You were surprisingly soft with him today."

Having thought about it all, it was honestly shocking that Pete hadn't stepped in when Spider shouted at her. He was normally quick to shut people down at any hint of disrespect directed her way.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his head. "I didn't want it to seem like I had to step in and save you. If it had escalated I would have, but you handled it right." The sober assessment warmed her, Pete trusting her skills. "As for the two of them...I think Spider has a hopeless crush and Bomber thinks he's just another bloke."

"Nothing to worry about then?"

He tipped his head. "You never know with Bomber. She can be unpredictable and likes to sabotage herself. I'll wave Spider off."

"I'm more distant. I'll talk to him if you think that helps," she offered.

"Nah, not yet. I won't come down hard on him; I'll do it as a mates thing. If he keeps on, then you can step in."

Kate nodded. "Roger. Let me know if you need me."

"Always."

She smiled a little. "And thanks for clearing the deck during our shower. That was thoughtful."

Pete quirked his lips, eyes sparkling. "That was for me more than you. I do not need the juniors getting any more wank material, thank you."

Kate felt herself flush, especially at the implication there. That she was lust-worthy. "Pete," she said, chiding.

"You, the Nav, and Bomber, mostly naked and wet? I'd be tripping over juniors flogging their logs for this entire evolution. A man can only take so much, Kate."

"I'm so glad you spared yourself," she deadpanned, shooting him a fond look.

"Someone's gotta make the hard calls," he drawled, a hint of implication to it.

Kate made a long-suffering noise and hit him playfully. Pete just laughed.

***

After Kate and Pete boarded the Flamingo Bay for the steaming party, Bailey took two of their packs inside, leaving Kate and Pete to handle the rest. They each took one, but as she turned to follow after Bailey, a look from Pete stayed her. "What?" she asked, curious at the energy she was sensing from him. Something off. Uncomfortable, maybe.

Pete blanked himself. "Bailey's sweet on you."

Surprise startled her, Kate just reacting: "He is not." He'd only arrived for his temporary duty assignment a few days ago and he'd spent most of that working with Nikki on navigation. Kate had barely spoken to him.

But also, after everything with the tattoo and the revelation of the feelings between them, Pete mentioning this felt...weirdly intimate.

Pete shot her a knowing look. "And which of us would know better?"

His certainty rushed doubt through her. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged, like it was obvious. "I know the look. I reckoned you'd want to know." There was something careful to that, like he wasn't entirely sure and didn't want to overstep.

Kate swallowed against the odd feeling rising in her chest at Pete giving her a heads up about someone else's affections for her. Nothing could happen between her and Pete, and he'd seemed to ignore what happened just as determinedly as she did, but this was...weird. Not bad, exactly, just an odd kind of awareness that she didn't know what to do with.

But she pushed it aside and nodded once. "Yeah. Thanks, Pete."

***

Bailey just seemed friendly when they talked out on deck—though it was clear he remembered a lot about Kate from ADFA, where she had only the vaguest memory of him. But later, when he was training her on how to break a hold, he lingered close to her in a way that told her Pete was right. Bailey did like her.

Kate instantly stepped out of the moment, pulling away, but that feeling was back. Not about Bailey, but about Pete. He'd seen this. He'd warned her about it. That thought sent appreciation through her, but also that other thing she didn't have a name for.

Kate swallowed it down. No need to get distracted by that. They had a job to do here.

***

And then it became a horror show, Kate terrorized by an invisible madman chasing her through the ship, Pete and 2Dads disappearing, then Kate finding Bailey's dead body.

Even worse, the man—Talbot—managed to sneak himself onto the Hammersley, like he was personally out to ensure she'd never sleep again. Mike came to her rescue and subdued him, pulling her into a hug that she allowed, overcome with the shock. Only when she snapped out of it did she realize what was happening, Kate jerking out of Mike's hold and stumbling back. She didn't need that from him. She certainly didn't need any of the crew witnessing her shaky panic or seeing Mike treat her like she was some damsel in distress.

Kate needed to pull herself together. She had to. There was no other option, really.

***

She didn't bother sitting next to Pete in the galley. Instead she went to her knees beside him, cupping his cheeks in her hands, meeting his eyes, needing to feel that he was okay. His skin was warm again, beautifully alive, so far from his chilled body that she'd cradled just outside that freezer when they found him.

He covered her hands and squeezed. "I'm okay," he reassured her in a whisper. "How are you?"

Her throat went tight, so she just clenched her jaw and nodded. Pete's expression went soft and he got a hand around the back of her neck, tugging her into his body. His arm wrapping around her was a relief—a proof of life and reassurance in one. Kate ducked her head against his chest, curling up against him, listening to his heart beating under his singlet, a sense of safe slipping through her. "I was so worried for you," he confessed.

"You almost froze to death," she protested into his chest.

"And you were out there with no backup," he said, like that was the worse thing. "I should've kicked up more of a fuss and stayed with you."

"You warned me. I ordered you to find Bailey." Which, in retrospect, was probably a bad move. They should have all stayed together. The ship had autopilot. There was no need for her to isolate herself in the wheelhouse.

"That's not a bad instinct," Pete said, like he wanted her to go easier on herself.

She blew out a slow breath, still working through it all, aware that none of that had been her finest moment. "You were right the whole time. As soon as that radio was ripped out of the galley, you knew something was wrong and wouldn't let me forget it. I should have listened."

"Hindsight is a privilege," he offered, still with that reasonable tone.

"I let my guard down. When nothing else happened, I let Bailey take his solo watch. We should have stayed in pairs the whole time. If we'd done that, maybe—"

"Hey," he said as he cupped the back of her head, a soothing sort of touch. "You did the best you could with the information you had at the time. That's all you can do."

"I lost my head," she confessed in a whisper, voice shaking with it. "Pete, I was so scared."

"You had a literal psycho killer chasing you around with an axe. Of course you were scared. You should be worried if you didn't get scared."

"...yeah," she said, knowing that was true. "I keep seeing it," she said, small. "I keep expecting him to be standing around every corner."

"He's not. He can't hurt you anymore," he reassured her, running a soothing hand down her back, then up, then down again.

Safe in his arms, wrapped in his warmth, Kate finally started to believe that.

***

Adrenaline rushed through Kate as they raced after the pearl thieves in the RHIB, so close to hauling them off their jet skis. Pete balanced on the RHIB's inflatable edge, reaching, almost able to grab the thief on his side—

When the engine stalled. The RHIB dropped back, Kate looking to the helm in alarm. Only to learn that they were out of fuel.

As Pete questioned 2Dads, realization slammed down on Kate. 2Dads had forgotten to refuel the RHIB. Forgotten.

Kate had never seen Pete so furious as when he outright yelled at 2Dads: "Sit down! Face that way! I do not want to look at your face!"

Privately, she agreed.

***

Kate stared down 2Dads in the ship's office, sensing little of the remorse she'd expect. "You let us down out there today," she said, eyeing him.

The door opened, admitting Pete, his anger only simmering now.

"Those men had weapons," Kate continued to 2Dads, reasonably. "What if they'd fired on us?"

Pete picked up the thought: "If they'd turned on us, we'd have been screwed."

"Through your negligence," she added.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," 2Dads said, slightly more contrite.

Pete stared him down. "Now, you think you can do the bare bloody minimum and it's okay."

"It's certainly not okay," Kate finished, to make that clear. "I would expect you to be working a lot harder to impress. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," 2Dads murmured, faint.

Done here, Kate shot a look to Pete. He understood, opening the door, letting her walk out first. Ever the gentleman.

Curiously, he didn't follow, the door clicking shut behind her. Clocking the low murmur of voices, Kate reckoned he had more to say, so she headed off down the corridor—

Pete's yell echoed all the way down: "You need to show some respect!"

Kate looked back, satisfaction slipping through her. Served 2Dads right, anyway.

***

She didn't expect anything in particular boarding the motor launch...only to be faced with the most annoyingly zonked captain and first mate she'd ever encountered. They found the idea of the pearl robbery hilarious. They found everything hilarious, including the pronunciation of common words.

It quickly went from annoying to tiresome to actively pissing her off, so Kate decided a search was in order. There had to be drugs aboard, at the very least.

***

Wanting an update on the search, Kate opened the door to the far cabin—

Only to find Pete and Spider with a pretty young woman, clad only in a bikini top and filmy sleep pants, still lying abed. Spider was on his knees, elbows on the bed as he chatted her up, Pete "searching" the other side of the room.

Disbelief raced through her, quickly followed by irritation. This might be the most annoying boarding she had ever done and it just didn't end. Kate shot Spider a cold look, letting him know how little his excuses meant, and promptly ordered the woman out.

As the woman got up to leave, Kate stared her down. Surprisingly, the woman stared back, a kind of cold defiance there. Something tingled at the back of Kate's mind. That wasn't a normal reaction.

But then Pete was reaching out to slap hands with Spider, like congratulating him for a job well done, that grating smugness of blokes on the prowl. Kate's irritation flared again, so she stared Pete down. "What have you found? Anything?" she asked, making sure to convey how deeply unimpressed she was.

He didn't even seem ashamed at first—and great example that was—only to shape up when he realized she was serious.

Once Pete actually tried to search the place, rather than just dallying with scantily-clad women, he came up with a bag of white powder and a pipe. Finally. Things were looking up.

***

The most grating captain in the world said he was hot out in the sun, so Kate sent him up to the wheelhouse. As he ambled off, Pete moved to her side. "I'll go keep an eye on him, X."

She nodded, then walked with him into the interior. He raised an eyebrow at her, pausing in question.

Kate glared at him, still annoyed by that whole business with the girl. She tipped her head toward the back of the boat, where the woman sat with the first mate. "Really?" she asked, not even bothering to disguise her frustration.

Pete understood instantly. "If I'm gonna wave Spider off Bomber, might as well give him something else to focus on," he said, low.

"And I'm sure you spending time around a half-naked beauty was just a coincidence."

His lips quirked. "Well, I am a man," he drawled.

"I've noticed," she snapped.

Pete stilled, his amusem*nt dropping away. "Have you," he said slowly, not a question. The look in his eyes caught her, something rising in the air between them.

What the hell did that mean?

Thankfully, Spider stomped up the stairs from the cabins. "Nothing else down there, X," he said, oblivious to anything.

Not that there was anything to notice, of course. "Thanks, Spider. Go on, Buff," she said, nodding him after the captain.

"Ma'am."

***

When Mike ordered Pete and Spider to stay behind as guard crew, Kate clocked Pete's displeasure in the wheelhouse above. After Pete had gotten his timeline for the Feds' arrival—the morning; he'd have to put up with these idiots for a whole night—she met his eyes...and shot him a you deserve this sort of look.

He sighed. "Thanks, X," he called down to her.

"Have fun," she said cheerily, turning for the RHIB.

***

Everything was fine until Pete missed his radio check-in. Kate looked at her watch—they were definitely past time—and keyed her own radio, calling for him.

Pete didn't respond.

Concern tickled down Kate's spine.

She tried again. Maybe they were having radio issues. She waited a few moments...and tried again. And again.

The radio finally came to life, sending a streak of relief through her: "Hello?" Pete sounded amused.

What the hell? "Buffer?" Kate asked.

Manic laughter issued from the radio. "Hi, Kate," Pete said, casual, like it wasn't the first time he'd ever used her first name over the radio. And then he kept laughing.

Really concerned now, Kate kept her voice even. "What's going on there, Buff?"

Pete just laughed and laughed—

And then the radio cut out.

***

They turned the ship around, steaming back to find out what had happened, worry pulsing through Kate the whole way. Pete would never use her first name unless something was very wrong. He was entirely deliberate about such things, ever the professional. Kate tried not to get too deep into theorizing the worst-case scenarios. That helped no one.

Still, it was a relief to sight Pete and Spider on the EOD, adrift in a tinny, thankfully alive.

As she watched Spider puke over the side, and Pete stumble and fall over, that relief turned to a horrified kind of realization. They'd been drugged. By the idiot druggies.

This had to be some sort of cosmic joke.

***

She'd had to tear strips off sailors who knew better twice in two days now and Kate was not happy about it. At least Pete seemed properly ashamed of himself. He didn't even protest being confined below decks.

Everything about this mission was infuriating and Kate just wanted it to end.

***

Then Nikki grabbed her in the corridor and hustled her into their cabin, closing the door behind her with a sober look. "You might have a problem."

Kate shrugged. "With what?"

Nikki went careful then. "I don't want to get anybody in trouble."

This was the thing that would always separate them, Nikki never fully trusting her because Kate was still her boss. It made her impatient. "No, Nikki, just tell me," she urged.

"There is a rumor doing the rounds," Nikki said quickly.

Kate nodded. "Ah," she said, rolling her eyes and turning away. Rumor-mongering, the Navy's favorite pastime.

"It's about you and Buffer," Nikki added, something knowing in her voice.

Concern whispered through her, Kate turning back to regard Nikki. "About us? What?"

"Well, that—you're linked," Nikki said, diplomatic.

But Kate knew how to read between those lines. "Romantically linked? Is it a joke?" Kate asked, Nikki's silence saying it wasn't, people actually believed this. Which was...ridiculous.

Totally ridiculous.

Discomfort slid through her at the idea that someone outside the situation saw something between them. Kate knew there was feeling there, but they would never act on it, never bring it onto the ship, how dare someone say otherwise.

Kate breathed out. "Who in their right mind would actually believe that?"

Nikki went diplomatic again. "Well, I think some of the crew." Obviously some of the crew if they were gossiping about it, but clearly Nikki didn't want to say who.

Kate eyed her. "Well, who told you?"

"I think it might be coming from the junior sailors, but everybody knows," she said, like Kate should know that.

Which she did. This was ship life. Lurid gossip was how people passed the time. "Yeah, everybody knows; yeah, of course they do," she muttered, frustration sliding through her. Along with that discomfort at unexpectedly being seen. Her heart rate ticked up at the idea of everyone talking about this. Her feelings for Pete. Their feelings for each other.

She suddenly hated the thought. That was between them. It didn't belong with anyone else, to be tittered over like it was entertainment.

"Kate," Nikki said evenly, getting her attention with the intimacy of her first name. "Once, when I was in a similar situation, you were so supportive of me and I want you to know—"

Alarm streaked through her, Kate cutting her off. "No, Nikki, we are not in a similar situation because I have no feelings other than strictly professional for anybody on this boat," she insisted, voice rising on the total bullsh*t that was. And they both knew it, but it wasn't like Kate could say anything else. She moved past Nikki, wrenching open the door—

And then paused. She turned back to Nikki. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"No no no," Nikki said, understanding.

"Thank you for telling me." After all, this was a kindness; Nikki didn't have to tell Kate what the crew was going on about. That she had was helpful. She didn't deserve Kate's anger.

But Kate still didn't want to hang around to talk about it. So with that, she was out.

***

The problem was, she couldn't stop thinking about it. What had the crew possibly seen that would make someone say this? No one had run across them in the galley, aside from Swain and Nikki, both able to keep their own counsel. And nothing else had happened recently. She didn't get it.

Except now that she knew, she kept seeing people's little looks at her. The appraising glances. As if her rule-breaking would be written onto her skin. It was infuriating, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it.

To make things worse, Mike concocted a plan to entrap the pearl thieves and decided that she and Pete should carry it out. Alone overnight on another pearl lugger. Together.

Kate tried to suggest someone else, but Mike wasn't hearing it. Because she and Pete made "a great team." Which they did...but this would inevitably fuel the rumors, something that trickled even more discomfort down her spine.

And then Mike somehow heard the rumor.

***

Pete's shocked, "What?" made Kate think he genuinely hadn't heard. It was a little surprising that Nikki hadn't told him, actually.

But that was hardly the most important thing.

"Well, obviously this puts us all in a very difficult position," Mike said, the three of them in his cabin, the door closed. "Now, whether or not there's any truth to the rumors, I'm duty-bound to investigate the situation."

"There is no situation. There is absolutely no truth to the rumor whatsoever," Kate said quickly.

"Yeah, I second that, boss," Pete drawled.

Kate turned to him. "I mean, do you have any idea why anybody would think that?"

"No," Pete said, helpless.

"Well, somebody does," Mike said, firm. "You both know and understand the Navy's policy regarding on-board relationships?"

"Absolutely, sir," Kate said.

"Yes, sir," Pete agreed.

"You have to be one hundred percent above suspicion regarding this."

"We are, boss," Pete insisted, gesturing between him and Kate. "It's us." And they would never break the frat regs like that.

Mike had the decency to look a little shamed by that. "Of course I accept your word that these rumors are nonsense."

"Thank you," Kate said quickly.

"I want the whole business to go away," he said, firm. "So both of you, do your best to make sure that it does."

"Yes, sir," Kate said.

"You can count on that," Pete agreed.

Mike nodded. "All right. Buffer, you can go."

Pete shot her a look that said they'd be talking about this, then left. Mike closed the door behind him, taking a breath, then looking over at Kate. In his eyes, she could see...a question. Doubtless he was rethinking some things—how Kate had ended their potential relationship, probably abruptly, to his mind. How she and Pete did make such a good team. Mike knew her; some part of her wondered if he now recognized some feeling in her despite her best efforts.

The idea made something frozen slide down Kate's spine. "I feel guilty and I haven't done anything," she said, a little tentative and hating that. "I don't understand how this has happened."

"Yes, well, who knows?" he said, dismissive.

"You have to know that I would never, ever—"

Mike cut her off. "X, we've discussed it," he said, leaning back against the wall, not looking at her. Which was the very opposite of professing belief in her.

Dimly, Kate wondered if he now thought that she'd thrown him over for Pete. That would account for this reaction—jealousy for losing out to another man. She couldn't understand why he'd believe it otherwise. He knew very well that she wouldn't break the frat regs. She had refused to do so for him. But he now thought she would for Pete?

Some part of Kate wondered if this man knew her at all.

"Yes, sir," Kate said, taking his words for a dismissal. She moved by him for the door, but before she opened it: "I presume you won't be sending Buffer and me on the pearling lugger together."

"Absolutely I am," Mike disagreed. "If I change the plan now it's just gonna feed the rumor mill. You're both professionals," he said in a tone that cast some doubt on that professionalism.

"Yes, sir," Kate said, faint, spotting Pete waiting for her in the corridor outside.

Dammit.

"Let's hope we can get past this," Mike said, a parting shot.

Kate turned to regard him...and chose not to dignify that. Because if he believed her, there would be nothing to get past, would there? No, this was his way of conveying that he didn't believe her. And what was she to say to that?

So she said nothing, simply heading out and closing the door behind her.

Pete stepped up, worry in his eyes, but Kate just shook her head once. "Later."

He nodded, something in his expression conveying trust in her judgment, before he melted away.

Well. At least one person believed in her.

***

Kate got ready for the pearl lugger mission, stepping out onto the boat deck—

And into some conflict between Pete, Swain, and Charge. She didn't know what it was, but Pete turned away from her, his posture defensive, clearly having gotten into it with Swain, who was still watching him, his expression all too innocent.

Great. What a time for Swain to have some fun at Pete's expense. Bloody fantastic.

Kate ignored them and headed to the RHIB, Pete following along after her, still tense. This mission was going to be a delight, she could already tell.

***

The ride to the pearl lugger at least meant they didn't have to talk. Once there, logistics took up their concentration—Pete setting up a hiding area for them behind some strung-up tarps, a kind of half-tent that hid them from view.

Only once they settled into it amidst the inky darkness beyond did Kate realize how very intimate this was, the two of them snug up against each other, facing toward the other. It felt like they were in their own little world. Normally that comforted her.

Now she was tense, like she was waiting for a hit. She hated it.

"What'd the boss say to you?" Pete asked, his voice low, sympathy there, like he knew it wasn't good.

Some kind of feeling crawled through Kate; Pete knew her so well. "It wasn't so much what he said as what he implied. I don't think he believes us. I think—I think he suspects that I moved on from him to you," she said, just as low.

Pete just looked at her evenly. "Which you didn't."

"Which I didn't," she confirmed.

"But it still bothers you," he said, studying her, like that was curious.

Kate sighed, gesturing helplessly. "He knows me. He knows I wouldn't break the frat regs. For him to think that—does he know me at all?"

"There's one possibility you're forgetting," Pete drawled, his eyes sparkling. "The boss sees that I'm downright irresistible."

Kate stared blankly at him for a moment...and then huffed a laugh, fondness sweeping through her. She relaxed back against the mast, her tension melting away. It was a good reminder that there was a reason she felt so much for Pete, even if they couldn't be together. He made everything so easy.

"Too right," she agreed, shooting him an appreciative look.

Pete grinned, like he liked that. It slowly faded as he went more serious. "I know his doubts hurt, but it's coming from a hurt place. It's not some comment on your character. He lost you and now he's seeing the possibility of you with someone else and it stings. That's all."

She sighed. "Yeah. It's just—it's been almost a year. He shouldn't feel so much."

"Well, I imagine it'd take an age to get over Kate McGregor," he drawled.

"Oh, stop," she said, shooting him a look.

"Or are you really worried he's holding out hope," he guessed, eyeing her.

Kate swallowed. "It's occurred to me," she said quietly. Because he still made his little comments every once in a while, still looked at her a certain way sometimes. She never encouraged it, but deep down she suspected that he still thought they'd end up together.

She was under no such illusions.

Pete nodded. "For the record, you two really shouldn't be serving together. The whole thing is stuffed."

"That was always the guts of it. He wouldn't take a shore posting so we could be together...so we couldn't be together."

He looked at her like she was speaking a different language. "He chose a bloody ship over you?"

She tipped her head. She hated thinking of it in such terms...but it was basically true. "Commander Marshall is desperate to promote him, but it would mean a shore posting and he just refuses."

Pete kept staring at her. "Go sailing on the weekends, you absolute tosser." He brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing it. "This level of stupidity is just offensive."

She smiled in appreciation, though it quickly faded. "Yeah, but it's good to know. It shows what he cares about most. And that's just not me."

"Because he's a right idiot," Pete insisted. "Look, I love the boats. I love the sea. But they'll never love you back."

Kate shot him a soft look. "I think we can safely say that you're wiser than Mike Flynn."

Pete held her look for a moment...and looked down. "I reckon it's more that when you've never had something, you know not to take it for granted." He shook his head. "He had you and took that for granted, Kate. You're well rid of him."

Kate reached out, her hand landing on his shin, squeezing lightly in thanks.

His lips curved up in response...and then his expression changed. "Oh, my leg's gone to sleep," Pete muttered, shifting against her, rubbing it briskly.

"Shh. You're making a racket."

"I can't help it," he said, a shade defensive.

Kate sighed as he sorted himself, figuring they should probably get to the real issue now. "Do you have any idea how the rumor started?" she finally asked.

"2Dads," he said darkly, like he was sure. Clearly, he'd thought about this.

But Kate didn't understand. "How did he get an idea like that?"

"He made it up," Pete said, obvious.

"Why?"

"Well, he was embarrassed about his screw-up with the fuel and then he couldn't cope with you and I tearing shreds off him." It was entirely logical and obvious and idiotic.

"That's just part of being in the Navy," she objected. "It's standard Navy discipline."

"And he cannot handle it," Pete insisted.

Kate shook her head, so over 2Dads' bullsh*t. Every once in a while she saw a glimmer of promise in him and then he would immediately do something wildly irresponsible. It was maddening.

"If you wait for something it'll never happen," Pete said, something in his voice.

Kate blinked at the absolute non sequitur, something squeezing in her chest at his tone. This was something deep and true and she didn't follow it at all. She looked over, finding him watching her, eyes shadowed, but something in them. "What are you talking about?"

His expression flickered, going careful. "This. What we're doing," he mused and there was a false note in it. He was covering, Kate was sure of it. "You watch. We'll sit here, waiting, all night, they'll never show. And if we weren't waiting, then they'd just turn up."

A rattling came from nearby, catching Kate's attention. "What is that?"

Pete leaned forward, looking around the tarp. "It's just the anchor line."

"No no no, shh," she said, pressing her fingers to his mouth, quieting him so she could listen.

Then it became clear it was just the lines swaying in the wind, but when Kate looked back to Pete she realized she was still touching his chin, so very light, her fingertips tingling at the contact.

He watched her, dark eyes gleaming in the low light. "My feelings for you are purely professional," he insisted, out of nowhere, and somehow, deep down, Kate just knew: he was lying to her face.

But then, what could he say?

"Yeah, mine, too," she lied right back since apparently that was what they were doing. But she still didn't stop touching him, careful fingers stroking his chin. "I mean about you," she clarified, her heart pounding in her ears.

She swallowed it all down, pulling her hand back and looking away. Right. Maybe they should just...be quiet for a while.

After all, they were on mission. Best to focus on that.

***

The pearl thieves eventually showed up, but completely changed their MO, taking Kate hostage, forcing Pete to relinquish his weapon. They knocked him out with a nasty hit to his head, then tied both of them up, along with the crew.

All of it was wrong. The thieves knew it was a trap. And there was only one way they could know that.

***

Pete lay unconscious, Kate having exhausted herself failing to get out of her bonds, so she had a lot of time to think. She kept going back to Pete's words: If you wait for something it'll never happen.

It was so unprompted, so out of nowhere, that it had to mean something. He'd been looking at her, they'd been talking about the rumors about their relationship...so what was it? She knew he was lying about only having professional feelings—just as she was—so was he trying to tell her that he wasn't waiting for her? She'd never asked him to. And that just seemed...cruel.

Or maybe it was an explanation? They both knew they couldn't act on their feelings—this whole situation had made that abundantly clear—so he wanted her to know he wasn't waiting because he didn't want it to never happen? Or was it that he had no expectations? That would track from Pete, honestly, given how he didn't believe he could have a lasting relationship. The whole thing felt confused, her mind an exhausted muddle, and she just wished they could be straight with each other.

Beyond all that, Kate was very clear on one thing: there was deep feeling there. He wouldn't protest so hard otherwise. It made something in her chest ache to be here again, with such feeling for someone she couldn't be with. And worse because Pete seemed to appreciate her, to understand how precious love was, and yet he'd never tried to do anything about the feeling between them, never tried to make anything possible. He'd only ever pushed her away.

Granted, Kate knew that Pete thought love wasn't in the cards for him. He'd said it over and over. He'd wanted to get rid of his mother's wedding ring, for god's sake. He couldn't envision it for himself, so he wouldn't act to make it possible.

It made her head hurt and it felt so futile and impossible and she just didn't know what to do.

***

Eventually Pete woke, thankfully seeming no worse for wear. He freed them by sheer strength, which she shouldn't find impressive and yet absolutely did. They hunted the thieves to the nearest island, Kate thrilling in vindication when she realized...it was that annoying motor launch crew. She knew that young woman had looked at her with too much steel to just be some random partygirl.

It was a simple thing to capture them and wait for reinforcements from the Hammersley. Kate oversaw their transfer and confinement to austere, then rejoined Mike on the bridge, getting the good news about the Feds arresting the pearl lugger captain for his treachery.

Before she could retake her station, Mike spoke: "You and Buffer."

Caution slid through Kate. "Yes, sir?"

"The fact is, you are a good team. And I'd like to think that any interruption to that is well and truly behind us," he said, like she should be pleased at his magnanimity. Like she would forget his distrust, his implied questioning of her professionalism. Clearly, when she'd been off hunting pearl thieves, he'd realized that he'd behaved badly and this was his way of making up for it. Not by apologizing or talking to her about it, but by moving on and announcing it to all.

It was so f*cking Mike it was almost painful.

But then, Kate needed to not get caught up in his emotions or little games. So she just said, "Absolutely."

"Good," Mike said with a smile, like he was pleased to be absolved.

Then Kate had an idea.

***

She'd rarely had more fun on the Hammersley than conspiring with Pete about 2Dads' punishment. And there seemed no better punishment than making him dive through sh*t to get to the stolen pearls.

Given all the sh*t he'd been talking, Kate called that justice.

***

"So you and Buff are okay, then?" Nikki asked as she exited the head in her pyjamas, ready for bed. Kate was already in her rack, just finishing up reviewing a report.

"Why wouldn't we be?" she idly asked.

"Kate," Nikki said in a pointed tone, sinking into the chair across from her.

She looked up at her, lost. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Nikki looked at her obviously. "Well, you had the entire crew gossiping about your grand romance with Buffer—"

"That does not exist," Kate insisted.

"That everyone believed was entirely possible," Nikki corrected.

"Why would that matter?"

"Sometimes other people see us more clearly than we see ourselves," Nikki offered.

The thing was, Kate knew the truth of it all, which was much more complicated than the stickybeaks thought, so it was all irrelevant. "And sometimes people are just bored."

Nikki shrugged. "Sure. I tracked the source of the rumor, you know."

"2Dads," Kate said, obvious. They'd clearly established that.

"To Bomber," Nikki said, which Kate hadn't known. "He was mostly making things up, but do you know what 2Dads said? That when he made a crack about it, Buff completely overreacted. And why would you do that, hey?"

You need to show some respect! drifted through Kate's mind, Pete's fury so clear. Fury on her behalf, it seemed.

Kate swallowed down all the feeling associated with that. There was nothing to be done about any of it. "I would never break the frat regs," she said, even.

Nikki took her in for a moment...and then her blue eyes flickered. "...oh. I see." She smiled a little, like she'd answered a question for herself. "It's good you're not in denial. In that case, you should know: Buff will take a stand if he's pushed. But he has to be pushed by something."

With that, she climbed up to her rack and turned off her light.

Kate settled in for sleep, turning that over in her mind. That was Nikki unsubtly telling her to force Pete's hand. She'd been backing off, she realized, ever since she fell on top of him. She'd either run away or let him set the terms of their dynamic—agreeing to whatever he proposed first. And since he was protecting himself, that was always that they were just professionals. Nikki was saying Kate had to step up and tell him.

...but what if she did that, opening up the possibility of a relationship, and he still shied away? After all, that was what Mike had done. Kate didn't know if she could face that kind of disappointment again. And made so much worse because it was Pete.

It was a long time before she fell asleep.

***

When Kate woke, she had no answers. She couldn't get past the fear that Pete would do what Mike had done.

So she did nothing.

***

Getting knocked about by unknown hostiles exploding mines was bad enough. It was an entirely new level of terrifying to rush out to Spider's frantic cries that there was a mine just off the ship and Pete had jumped overboard to try and help.

Kate rushed to the port forecastle, her gut dropping clear away as she leaned over and spotted Pete in the drink, literally putting his body between the ship and a mine.

His plan was clever—use a bow line to encircle the mine so a RHIB could gently back it away from the ship—but it was also certifiable. It was the kind of heroic risk that got sailors killed. It was only because of Pete's skill that he pulled it off.

Mike was furious. He dressed Pete down in front of the whole bridge, humiliating given how noble Pete's actions were. Kate watched Pete go from confused to resigned, accepting Mike's criticism as his due. There was something a little heartbreaking about that.

She announced that the tow lines were ready, Mike ordering Pete to go handle those. As Pete moved to go, his eyes flicked to her—

Kate shot him an expectant look. They'd be talking about this.

***

Pete was already in the galley when Kate arrived—in his pyjamas, his tea untouched. She just took him in for a moment, glad that he was still with them. That he was still here with her, even after how fraught everything had become. But she couldn't shake the concern that swamped her.

He noticed her gaze, looking over in question as she approached. "What?"

She sat, nudging his shoulder with hers. "That was some kind of heroic today."

He studied her face, shrugging a little. "Wasn't trying to be a hero. Like I said, I didn't think."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Do you reckon you should have? Thought first, I mean."

"Come on, Kate, the boss already tore into me."

"I know, it's not about that. It's just..." she trailed off, trying to capture it. "You scared me out there," she finally admitted, quiet.

Pete's expression flickered, like that actually reached him. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

Kate nodded, appreciating that. "It's not like you to be rash. You always think things through. But not today. Why is that?"

His brown eyes widened, like he hadn't expected that question at all. He searched for what to say—

And looked away. "I don't know," he finally said.

But he was lying. Kate could tell he was lying. It was clear as day.

He never lied to her.

No, that wasn't true. He only lied about his feelings for her. So was that why he was lying now? His rash action had something to do with her? The thought made something in her gut pitch.

She had started this concerned. Now she was actively worried.

Finally she took a breath. "You don't have to tell me what's going on," she said, soft. "But you should know that you can."

He looked back at her, nodding a little. "I know." But he didn't say anything more.

Kate tried not to let that hurt her. She didn't get every part of him. She knew that well.

It still ached.

But she just nodded and nudged him again, hoping that her presence might help. If he wouldn't confide in her, she could be here for him.

It was all she could do.

***

Their subsequent sea training exercises were a series of little humiliations, Lieutenant Commander Luxton letting the crew know exactly how deficient they were. They proved themselves in the end, through a real emergency, but it was still a rough go, especially on Pete. As the leader of the enlisted, much of the abuse fell on him, Luxton seeming to delight in dressing him down.

Kate was glad it was all done with as they arrived to home port. She found herself walking off the gangway beside 2Dads, who went delighted at seeing Pete with Luxton ahead of them. He was way too pleased as he said, "I guess we showed his Nazi girlfriend that when a real emergency comes along, we take care of business."

Shock blanked her. "Girlfriend?" she muttered to herself, instantly thinking it was more of 2Dads' rumor-mongering. But as she walked toward them, Pete and Luxton facing off, she could see the tension in his frame. This was not a casual conversation. They knew each other.

Apparently quite well.

It sent her reeling, Kate swallowing it all to salute Luxton and wish her the best, ignoring Pete entirely.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, but she ignored it.

He had been acting off. Jumping in after that mine. Not thinking things through. And he had refused to talk to her about it, when he'd usually talk to her about anything.

He'd never said a word about a girlfriend.

Kate could feel emotion rising at all of this, but she was in public, in uniform, it was not the place. She'd let herself feel something later.

***

When she closed her apartment door behind her, she heard her breath actually shake. Pete and Luxton. Unbidden, his long-ago words came back to her:

Senior sailors know the life. If there's some bending of the frat regs among our lot, so long as it doesn't interfere with the ship, whatever.

Kate would never break the frat regs. But Pete had outright told her that he would. He would absolutely sleep with the lieutenant commander in charge of their sea training exercises because they were senior enough not to let it interfere with the work. Hell, if anything, Luxton had seemed to go harder at the crew, not softer as one would expect.

If Pete had been with Luxton during all the rumors about their illicit romance, he could have easily undercut those rumors by saying he was with someone, even if he didn't identify her. He hadn't. That told Kate that this was recent, since the pearl lugger mission a few weeks ago.

After everyone had believed they were together, after Pete lied to her about how very professional his feelings were, he'd gone out and picked up a blond-haired, green-eyed, frigid officer. Kate wasn't fool enough to think that was a coincidence.

He'd lied about his feelings for her and then he'd gone out to f*ck another version of her.

Dimly, Kate felt wetness on her cheek. She touched careful fingers there, realizing that was why her eyes stung and her throat hurt: tears were rolling down her cheeks.

It felt like Pete had cheated on her.

Which was absurd. For one, they weren't together. But most importantly, Pete would never cheat on his girlfriend. Not ever. Which was just more proof that they weren't together.

But Kate could tell herself that all she liked, it didn't feel like it. It felt like a betrayal. It felt like he had gone deliberately behind her back to bed an imitation of her. It felt like he would be with someone, just not her.

Kate sank to the floor just inside her door...and cried.

***

She pulled herself together by the time she had to report back to the Hammersley. Everything weirdly seemed duller, but Kate supposed that was just the emotional drain. Surely it would go away.

Swain frowned as they crossed paths on the boat deck. "Morning, X," he said, kind. "Everything all right?"

"Of course," she said, smiling tightly and moving on.

When she joined Nikki on the bridge, Nikki's wide eyes tracked her. "How are you, X?" she asked, soft.

"Ready for a new day," Kate said with a smile. Nikki didn't seem convinced.

When Mike joined them on the bridge, he just nodded in greeting.

And when she crossed paths with Pete in the corridor, his expression flickered at sight of her. Kate could see a hollowness to him—something had happened, clearly. She tilted her head in a way that meant she wanted to talk, Pete nodding once in acknowledgment.

Kate had decided not to be a coward about this. She would raise it with Pete and let him say whatever he said. At least then she would have the clarity she craved, unlike that horrible uncertainty that had lingered for years with Mike. Even if it made her gut feel sick and even if her head still vaguely hurt, at least she would know.

That would be something.

***

Pete was waiting when she entered the galley. She sat beside him, keeping more space between them than she normally would, lamenting the loss of that closeness. But it was probably best.

"Luxton?" Kate asked, unable to help the note of betrayal in her voice.

He winced and looked down. "I'm sorry," he said simply, like that was the guts of it. It was both necessary, but also wildly insufficient.

"She was—she was so cruel to you," Kate said, not understanding.

Pete nodded, still not looking at her. "I reckon I was looking for a little punishment." He shrugged. "I got it."

That thought distracted her. "You don't deserve to be hurt, Pete," she said, not for the first time.

At that he finally met her eyes, seeming distant. "Yeah, well, it's over. Doesn't matter now."

"But—I don't understand."

Pete sighed, scrubbing an uncomfortable hand over his buzzed hair as he looked away again. "I thought I could have this with you on ship and that with her off ship and it would be okay. It wasn't."

Kate leaned forward a little to catch his gaze. "You could've talked to me about it. We've talked about everything."

"You were kind to a stray," he said patiently, like he'd thought about this. "You didn't ask it to follow you home."

Kate bristled. "Please tell me you didn't just call more than a year of friendship some kind of charity."

He held out a calming hand. "I don't mean to lessen it. I don't. You offered friendship and that was—it's more than I ever expected." Some kind of emotion wavered in his voice at that, Pete looking down. "I'm the idiot who went and turned it into something else. I thought I could just ignore it and it wouldn't matter, but it keeps coming up, getting in the way. So I'm posting off the ship," he finished dully.

Cold panic gripped her chest, Kate suddenly in freefall. "I don't want you to go."

He turned heavy eyes on her. "Which is why I have to." He swallowed, his eyes so full. "I have entirely lost myself in you."

It was the kind of thing you'd dream of a man saying, except that Pete was her North Star. She needed him to find himself so she knew where to go.

"It wasn't just you turning it into something else," she said quickly, forcing it out. Because she would not be a coward about this; he deserved her honesty as much as she deserved his. "I've known there were feelings between us for a while."

Something in him went defeated. "'She's a uni type,'" he said, echoing Kate's words from years ago.

It stole her breath. She'd said that about the Fed he'd liked, long before they'd gotten close. She hadn't realized he'd taken it to heart so.

But then, it did confirm his priors, didn't it? That he wasn't good enough. Not for the first time, Kate kicked herself for being so unthinking in that moment. She'd wanted to spare him hurt and instead ended up causing it.

"I stuffed up, saying that. I'm sorry," she said, feeling she owed him that; she should've said it long ago. "But you and me—of course I felt that. It was just that nothing could come of it when we were posted to the ship. I thought we both understood that. If you're really leaving..." She trailed off, considering it now. She didn't want him to go, but if he did..."It doesn't have to be running away," she offered, her voice shaking. "It could be running to something." She reached for his hand, limp on the deck, and gripped it tight.

Anguish raced across Pete's expression. "Don't say things like that, Kate," he begged, something hopeless in it.

Which wasn't a no.

So she firmed her expression. "I mean it. When it's done, come talk to me."

Pete swallowed, like it hurt. "I don't want to be second-best."

She squeezed his hand again. "Neither do I. And you're not."

He didn't say anything, but she could tell he wasn't convinced. "Please, Pete," she said, hearing the desperation in her voice.

He took a breath she could hear. "Okay," he finally said, even though it was clear he didn't think anything would come of it. "We can—we can talk. Later."

And in that moment Kate knew, she would never see him here again. This time of theirs was over.

Unexpected grief welled in her, sudden stinging at her eyes. But she refused to cry in front of him. "I have loved every moment here with you."

Pete looked entirely miserable as he said, "Me, too."

And that was that.

***

The rest of Pete's time on the Hammersley was like a daze. Pete almost drowning in an oil tank. Kate almost getting strangled to death by Campbell Fulton. Finally getting justice for ET. All the kinds of things that would normally send Kate to the galley to sit with Pete, a shelter against the storm. But they didn't do that anymore.

The loss of it was crushing. She felt like she couldn't take a full breath. She felt like he was gone, even when he was standing right beside her.

And then he really was gone—Mike making a nice speech, the crew going out to toast him and Nikki and Spider, and then Kate was back aboard the next day...and Pete wasn't. He was headed to the Kingston to take over for their retiring buffer, one of life's little ironies.

Kate kept looking for him. Glancing over to where he should be, surprised anew at his absence, even though she shouldn't be. His replacement—Dutchy—was cold and dismissive and undermining. It was like adding insult to injury. No one could live up to Pete, of course. They'd had years of solid trust between them. Kate had expected his replacement to be capable, but unremarkable, a Brickie type. But an arse like Dutchy, who sometimes seemed like he was actively working against her? It was like a blow when you didn't expect it. Made all the worse by Mike, who didn't believe that Dutchy was a problem. Being undermined by her buffer and her boss at once was just...a lot.

Worse still, Kate didn't hear from Pete at all. No calls, emails, texts. He just...disappeared from her life. Like Pete Tomaszewski didn't even exist anymore. And only once he was gone did Kate realize how much of her life he'd inhabited. How even when he wasn't beside her, he was in her thoughts.

It was still true, only now it wasn't with joy or delight, it was emptiness. Like part of her was missing.

It felt like a breakup. It felt like the time Charlie Williams had broken her heart in year 11, her first love dropping her like she was nothing. It felt like that, only more, because Pete was so much bigger in her life than Charlie had ever been. But she also cursed herself the fool because what right did it have to feel like a breakup, anyway? She and Pete had never been together.

But that was how it felt. It felt like a breakup and losing a friend and losing her closest workmate all at once. The loss of any one would be a heartache, but all together it was devastating.

And there was another dimension to it. Only once Pete was gone did Kate realize how much she'd become used to touching him. Even just sitting next to him in the galley, they'd bump shoulders, the contact a warm kind of reassurance amidst the stress of their jobs. People didn't touch the X, as a rule. The exception had been Pete. And it wasn't like Kate had anyone in her life outside the Navy. With Pete gone, it was like she was thrust into this void, emotionally and physically. She was well and truly alone.

She used to be fine with the solitude. She remembered being fine with it, Kate wrapping herself in her position, distant and apart from everyone else. But after feeling how it could be, feeling so connected to Pete for so long, having that taken away was...heartbreaking.

Kate kept hoping to hear from him. Days turned to a week, then two. A month on, she had a horrible realization: she might never hear from Pete again. Serving together on ship, you didn't have a choice. You went where the Navy told you and your fellow sailors became a part of your life, whether you liked it or not. Once you left, though, keeping them in your life was something you had to choose. Kate had served with Nikki before and when she'd posted off, she never thought of Nikki again. She certainly didn't reach out. And they were both officers, closer than what should be true between an officer and enlisted.

Pete had said they'd talk, but it was entirely possible he'd changed his mind. As was his right, she knew. Kate didn't have any claim to him. He got to choose who was in his life. And who was not.

After almost two months, she finally broke. Her counterpart on the Kingston—Lieutenant Wallace—had been a couple years behind her at ADFA. She remembered him as sharp and capable, if not particularly inspiring. But she knew him enough to send an email, blandly asking how his new buffer was working out.

Wallace's response didn't take long:

He's the best buffer I've had, by a mile. The crew loves and fears him in equal measure. He's even keeping me on my toes. The boss is pleased. Your loss is our gain, golden girl.

Kate responded with a generic fair winds acknowledgement, unable to help the ache. The news that Pete was thriving should be a good thing, but all Kate could feel was loss. She realized she'd been looking for some kind of excuse—maybe the Kingston was so busy that Pete hadn't had time to reach out. But it wasn't that at all. He'd just chosen not to.

At the very least, with Nikki gone, Kate had the cabin to herself. So there was no one else to see her cry.

***

The knock at her cabin door startled her, Kate scrambling up from her rack and her tear-stained pillow. She wiped at her cheeks quickly, knowing that she couldn't hide her red, puffy eyes. She'd once joked to Pete that she'd wept at his absence...and here she was, doing exactly that. How far she'd fallen.

She opened the door to find Swain there, about to speak—and then he paused. "You all right, X?"

"Of course, Swain. What is it?" she asked, injecting something brisk into her voice, all business here.

He didn't seem convinced, but went with it nonetheless. "It's the fisherman, ma'am. I've stabilized him enough to get to port, I think. If it's all right with you, I thought I might grab a couple hours of sleep. Bomber can keep watch over him."

"Good job. And of course. Let me know if anything changes."

"Roger," he said...and then he softened. "Look, I don't mean to pry, but is it Dutchy again?"

Kate scoffed. Dutchy was an arse who made her work life fairly miserable, but she never thought of him when he wasn't in front of her. "Hardly."

Understanding flashed over Swain's face. "Pete, then," he decided, his voice going quieter. They'd never talked about anything directly, but Swain knew Pete better than anyone aboard. And he was perceptive.

But Kate wasn't one to share confidences with those who served under her. She only ever had with one person, after all. "Get some rest, Swain," she said, ending the conversation.

"Ma'am."

***

Leave was a relief, if only to be away from Dutchy's frosty silences. Kate had planned to stay at her flat and catch up on the paperwork that never ended. She didn't feel up to seeing friends and she didn't want to go anywhere. She just wanted to be quiet and alone. As she was destined to be forever, apparently.

So the knock at her door was entirely unwelcome.

But as she moved toward it, she recognized the figure on the other side of the glass, her gut dropping out.

Pete stood on her porch in the waning sunlight, wearing a maroon button-down and dark jeans—dressed up for him—like he hadn't been radio silent for almost two months.

Some part of Kate didn't believe it, even as she opened the door and stared at him.

He stared back, some kind of remorse flickering in his dark eyes. "Hi, Kate," he said, his voice filled with both hesitance and reverence. Like he'd missed her.

Grief and relief and longing swept through her, her throat closing up, eyes burning. Kate didn't think about it, she just rushed forward, into his arms, burying her face in his chest as the tears started to fall.

She thought she'd never see him again.

Pete stilled against her, but quickly wrapped her in his arms. "I'm sorry," he said, misery in his voice. He cupped the back of her head and held her close as she cried. "God, I'm sorry."

It made her shake harder, hands gripping his shirt. She could hear the remorse in his voice. He felt the same against her, he smelled the same, and it was everything she'd wanted and thought she'd never have again. So she let herself fall into the emotion of it, a kind of exorcism of all the uncertainty and stress and hurt.

Eventually Kate calmed, reality coming back to her—they were on her porch, where anyone could see. So she pulled back, out of his arms, quickly wiping at her tears.

Pete let her go, not trying to keep hold of her, his eyes dark and shiny.

"Come inside," she said, her voice rough with tears. She quickly retreated, hearing him follow and close the door behind him.

Kate just kept going, into her flat, conscious of appearances now. She wore a casual black sundress, no makeup, and there were piles of reports everywhere, an organized kind of chaos. Hardly fit for company.

She glanced at him. "I'll be right back," she said, not waiting for his response before she was off to the bathroom. She checked in the mirror—red, puffy eyes, blotchy skin, red nose, just great—then did what she could. She blew her nose, splashed water on her face, and composed herself as much as possible.

Then she headed back out to the kitchen, Pete leaning against the island, studying her place like he wanted to know everything, but didn't want to pry.

"I need some water. Want anything?" she asked, going to the fridge. "There's beer, wine."

"Water's fine," he said, quiet.

She grabbed two from the fridge, then handed one over. She focused on her own, drinking down half a bottle before really looking at Pete.

He looked the same as ever—buzzed hair, tan skin, figure strong and imposing. On the surface he was calm, but there was something underneath—both tentative and hollow, like he was as lost as she. Kate didn't see how that was possible, but then, she could hardly lay claim to understanding him.

Finally, she pinned him with a hard look. "Why are you here, Pete?"

He tensed. "Swaino texted me. Called me a bloody coward, said I made you cry."

"What, so he guilted you into it?"

Pete went stricken. "No," he said instantly, like that hurt him. "No, I just—didn't think it'd matter so much."

Kate stared at him. "You were the closest to me on ship, I told you I had feelings for you, and you didn't think it'd matter?"

"I'm sorry," he said instantly, dropping his gaze to the island. "I don't mean it like that. I just—I haven't been my best," he said, clearly struggling.

The fact that he would admit that softened Kate. "I missed you," she said, quiet.

He met her eyes, something helpless in his gaze. "I missed you, too."

"So why haven't I heard from you?" she asked, trying to keep it soft, not accusatory.

His jaw flexed, some kind of emotion there. Finally, he answered: "I needed to remember who I was outside of you."

"Did you?" she asked, kind of at a loss here. She didn't understand.

"Yeah. Someone sad and lonely and always searching for something that was right in front of him." He swallowed, thick. "I'm sorry I disappeared. I just—I realized how much better things were when we were together. And then I got worried it'd never be like that again, because I left, and that I'd stuffed it all up. So it was easier to just ignore it all. But I never wanted to hurt you."

Kate could see the truth of it, Pete's expression so open. The fact that he wasn't hiding anything landed with her. Yes, it was a mess and thoughtless, but it wasn't malicious. And he was trying.

"Do you remember what I told you when we started getting close? After your mum?" she prompted, gentle.

"That I have to tell people stuff," he said dutifully. "I know. I fell back into keeping things to myself. I'm sorry," he said, quiet.

She nodded, holding out a hand. "Come sit."

Looking like he couldn't quite believe it, he took her hand, letting her tug him into the living room, to her light gray couch. She sat on it, Pete following suit, and it was easy, automatic, to just lean into him. He breathed out, relaxing back into the cushions, his body loosening. Kate scooted closer, turning to curl against him, resting her cheek to his chest, her legs folded under her, warm against his thigh. He dropped an arm around her, a soothing sort of weight, and they just sat like that for a while, slowly relaxing against each other.

Her body tingled where it pressed against his, Kate sinking into the comfort of it, the sense of awareness. That hadn't faded, even across the months of separation. This still felt right.

She'd missed it so much.

Finally, Kate found her voice. "How's the Kingston?"

He took a breath, his chest rising under her cheek. "Different. The same. Wallace is fine, a bit slower on the uptake. He doesn't have your instincts. I like the boss, though. The crew's a little too loose for my liking, but I'm working on that."

Kate went a little woozy at the familiarity of it, shop talk they both just got, no need to explain. "I thought you liked the former buffer over there."

"Yeah, but he was close to retirement. You know how blokes get. They let things slide. I've been acquainting the crew with the standards I expect. They're enjoying it," he said, dry.

Kate huffed a laugh. She could imagine. "We've exchanged positions. It's like when I first posted aboard the Hammersley. By the book."

He made a pleased noise. "I like that." He ran a hand down her back, warm through the thin cotton of her dress. "How's it been on Hammersley?"

Kate blew out a frustrated breath. "The new buffer hates me. I miss you every day."

Pete tensed against her. "But—wait, I checked on him. Dutchy, yeah?"

She pulled back to look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked confused. "His reputation's fine. Good, even. Blokes say he's squared away."

Kate shrugged. "He's capable of running the ship. He just hasn't taken to me."

"In what way?"

"He avoids me on ship. Won't speak to me unless spoken to and then gives one-word answers. He pushed me out of the way on a boarding."

If possible, Pete tensed even more. "He put hands on you?" he asked, disbelief verging on anger.

"He thinks he protected me," she said, bitter. The condescension of it all had really been something else.

"And what's Mike got to say about all this?" Pete challenged, the what the f*ck in his voice.

"That I'm overreacting. He's a war hero. I must be misunderstanding the situation," she said, putting in her tone just what she thought of that.

Pete stared at her for a moment, offense written all over his face...and then he deflated, remorse rising. He pulled her close, wrapping her up tight. "They're bloody fools. You deserve better."

"Yeah," she said, sinking into his hold, buoyed by the support. It was all she'd wanted—someone to be on her side.

After a while, he took a breath. "I made it worse, didn't I?"

Kate swallowed. "Yeah," she said because she wasn't going to lie to make him feel better.

He pulled back to look at her, his energy so sad. "I didn't think. I wouldn't have done that if I'd known."

She pressed light fingers to his chin. "That's why I need you to talk to me. Not hide away."

Pete winced. "I was scared. I am scared. You're bloody terrifying, Kate," he confessed, his voice heavy.

"You think I don't get scared?" His look went disbelieving, so she continued on: "After the pearl lugger, Nikki all but said I should tell you how I felt, but I got so scared that it would be Mike all over again. That you wouldn't choose me. So I did nothing."

He stared at her, uncomprehending. "If you'd said I had a chance, I would've posted off on the spot. I've told you I'd do anything for you," he insisted.

"It's easy to say. I was afraid that you wouldn't follow through, so I kept on with the lie. I shouldn't have done that, either," she said, to make it clear she wasn't excusing herself here. "I think we both need to stop lying to each other, for good."

Pete cupped her cheeks, his expression fierce. "I think of you every day and dream of you every night and I can't imagine my life without you in it. Somewhere in there, you became my whole bloody world," he said, voice rough.

Kate made some noise and leaned up and kissed him. She hadn't let herself think of anything physical with him, it seeming like just a kind of torture. But now that it was happening, it sent heat spiraling through her.

Pete instantly kissed her back, tilting his head, mouth moving over hers slowly, then more assured. Kate's heart raced as they kissed, everything tingling, her body waking up to having him against her, wanting her. She opened her mouth against his, Pete lightly dipping his tongue in to brush against hers, sudden lust rushing through her.

Kate pulled back, panting, staring up at him. "I love you, too."

His expression cracked—

He crushed her mouth to his, his hand in her hair, tilting her head just so as he explored her mouth, their tongues tangling, the kiss hot and wet and overwhelming. Kate gripped his shoulders and tried to keep up, distracted by the yearning desire sweeping through her. Her body felt overheated, sweat breaking out all over, warmth pooling between her legs.

She pulled back from the kiss again, Pete nuzzling along her chin to her neck. "God, I love you," he murmured against her skin, kissing his way down.

Something gripped around her heart.

Kate got a hand on his chin, holding him still until he pulled back and met her eyes. "Upstairs," she ordered.

Pete grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

***

They traded kisses on their way up the stairs, hands wandering, so it was half a miracle they even made it to her bedroom. Kate had to shuffle them back to turn on the lights, the darkness outside already threatening, and she wanted to see this. Then they were back to it, tipping over onto the bed in a heated tangle.

"I've never done this," Kate said between kisses, breathless.

Pete paused to look at her. "Taken someone to bed?" he asked, dry.

"Oh, funny man," she mocked. But then she sobered. "No, fallen in love first."

He swallowed as it seemed to strike him. "I haven't, either."

She ran careful fingers along his jaw. "A bit old-fashioned of us, isn't it?"

"It'll never be said that we take the easy path to things," he drawled, something wry in it.

Kate leaned in to peck at his lips. "Worth it, though."

Pete's eyes warmed, devastating, and then he took her mouth, intent now. Just like that, it went hot and heavy, hands tugging at clothes as they moved against each other. Pete gripped her tight, then rolled them over so she was on top—

All so he could skim her dress up her body, tugging it off and tossing it aside. His gaze burned as he took her in, wearing only her knickers, and then he rolled her again, his mouth dropping to her skin, kissing over her everywhere, sending more of that heat through her.

Kate unbuttoned his shirt, shoving it off, squirming against him, turned on and impatient. "Pete," she said, demanding, biting at his collarbone.

He huffed a laugh, then pushed himself back, leaving her alone in the center of the bed, all needy and desperate. He stood, holding her gaze as he undid his jeans. Kate felt her body react to the easy grace of it, his unselfconsciousness and dancing eyes as arousing as the body he slowly revealed. She'd already seen plenty of him, given how he pranced around half-naked, but now she saw the rest—muscled thighs, paler than the rest of him, thick co*ck heavy and hard for her, dark hair at its base. He stripped off everything, then crawled his way back to her, Kate basically ready to combust on the spot, and that was before he got his mouth on her knee and proceeded to kiss his way back up her body.

His mouth left teasing trails of fire as his fingers played over her skin, finding any sensitive spot he could. As he kissed her bellybutton, he slipped his fingers under her knickers and urged her hips up, stripping them off with a careless flick of his wrist that shouldn't be hot and yet totally was.

"You are exquisite," he murmured, his hands flowing over her, eyes glowing as he leaned up for her mouth again. He kissed her lightly, over and over again, fingers exploring everywhere. He liked the dip of her hip, the softness of her inner forearm, the sensitive underside of her breast, sending shivers all through her. He pressed a hand between her legs, carding through the hair there before slipping lower. Pete moaned as he felt how wet she was, Kate making a high noise against his mouth, bucking against his fingers, wanting more.

Fingers teased at her cl*t, so light, Kate's breath catching at the burst of fire that raced through her. She tried to get more, but he made some negative noise, pulling out of the kiss to look at her, his brown eyes seeming black now. "Show me what you like," he said, even just the rough sound of his voice arousing.

She trembled against him, too turned on to follow. "What?"

Pete smiled a little, then physically took her hand and pressed it between her legs, his own over hers. "Kate," he drawled, breathy. "Show me how you touch yourself."

That she understood. Kate moaned at the hotness of it, even before she started moving her fingers the way she liked—light flicks around her cl*t, varying the pattern, everything blissful and shaky—then doing the same with his. His fingers were thicker, rougher than hers, the contrast making her groan—

Then he brushed her hand away and put his lesson to use, touching her perfectly. Kate moaned at the helpless pleasure of it, leaning up for his mouth, her body shuddering at his touch. He kissed her back for a while, only then he pulled away.

So that he could watch her, Kate's hips moving against him as her pleasure gathered deep inside, focusing. He dropped his other hand to hold her hip in place, dodging her mouth, as he touched her, apparently intent on watching her get off.

Her body reacted to that, her inner walls fluttering as he kept touching her, urging her higher and higher. Kate gripped one of his shoulders, the other hand going to his forearm, feeling it flex with his movements. His eyes held her in place and Kate couldn't remember anyone watching her like this, like he wanted to drink in her pleasure.

Then he tipped her over the edge and it washed through her—a rolling, white-hot wave that left her shuddering, sweaty and weak. Pete kept his fingers moving, drawing it out, Kate bucking against it, almost too much.

Eventually, he released her, easing his hand from between her legs, releasing her hip. He brought his fingers up and lapped at them, so unconsciously sexy her body actually clenched.

"f*ck, Pete." She pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him hungrily even though she just came. She got a hand around his co*ck, hard against his belly, and he made a sharp noise into the kiss, overcome with the surprise pleasure of it. Kate got the appeal of it now, stroking him quickly, liking the way he shivered against her. She could do this, watching him get off.

But then he pulled back, all the way away, off the bed to drop to the floor.

"Why...?" Kate asked, propping herself up on her elbows—

But then he was back, condom in hand. "Oh, right," she said, somewhat inane.

Pete snorted, but it was kind as he dropped back to her side, taking her mouth in a kiss. He rolled between her thighs, kissing her thoroughly, even as he got the condom on, a kind of impressive level of multitasking, actually. Then he pressed his fingers between her legs again, teasing her cl*t before slipping down to press lightly at her entrance.

She was so wet and open his fingers slid right in, Pete moaning at the feel of her. Kate clenched on his fingers and said, "Yeah," into his mouth, urging him on.

Pete didn't need more prompting. He pulled his fingers from her and lined himself up, pausing to break the kiss and check on her. Kate nodded, fingers gripping his back, so Pete nodded back and sank into her, making a low noise as he did.

She gasped, head snapping back as he thrust all the way inside and settled against her hips, the pleasure of it swamping her, her body feeling so full. It had been a long time since she'd had sex, Kate's whole body lit up with it. Her fingers dug in as he started moving, testing at first, shifting angles, seeing what she liked.

He hit some spot inside her and she gasped again, gripping him tight. "There," she panted, "Just like that." She wrapped her legs around his hips, Pete bracing himself—

And he nailed that spot every time, f*cking her in earnest, the pleasure of it rocketing through her.

"I love you," he murmured into her mouth, in between gasps and muttered curses, and Kate knew that you were never supposed to believe what a man said when he was inside you—everyone knew that—except for how deeply true this was. He did love her, she knew that, and somehow the knowledge made it better.

Sweat slicked them, Kate gripping the back of his neck to hold him in place as she said, "I love you, Pete." He trembled against her, his hand moving between her legs again, touching her perfectly as his thrusts sped up.

It was almost too good, Kate's body spiraling higher as another org*sm built. Pete was relentless, knowing just how to touch her, even as he shook against her, barely hanging onto his own control. Pleasure coiled in her belly, pulling all her muscles tight, and he kissed her, saying, "Yeah, Kate," and that was it, she was coming again. Bliss pulsed through her, body gripping him tight, and Pete let out a low, "f*ck," that Kate actually felt.

And then she was drifting on the high of really good sex, Pete stilling over her, both of them panting and slightly shaky. He made some apologetic noise and pulled out of her, Kate groaning at the feel of it.

Then he was gone, taking care of the condom, and Kate slumped, her heart beat slowing, the thrum of good feeling pulsing through her in time. The light lowered around her, Kate making a curious noise—

And then Pete nuzzled over her skin as he rejoined her, curling around her. He must have lowered the lights. But she instantly lost track of the thought as he touched her; it was all the comfort of being in bed with him at his mum's place, plus all the pleasure imaginable, and Kate never wanted it to end.

She settled against him...and was out.

***

It was full dark outside when she woke, her bedroom lights still low enough to let her see, but not to be intrusive. She shifted against Pete, nuzzling his chest, and his hand came up to stroke her hair, soothing. She leaned up for a kiss, Pete's mouth clinging, Kate trailing light fingers over his jaw. When he pulled back he kissed her nose, once, light. It made her smile.

Then he eased away from her, rolling out of bed to dig through his jeans. He rejoined her, curving around her body, as he handed her a blue velvet pouch.

Kate looked to him, confused. "Giving me prezzies already?"

"Something like that. Go on," he said, leaning down to kiss her shoulder.

Kate tugged the pouch open and shook it out—

His mum's ring landed in her hand...and her whole world froze. Because...what? Kate looked over at him, shocked.

"I saved that for you," he murmured, almost bashful. "I don't know if I knew it then—I was pretty out of it—but some part of me must've." He swallowed, reining in the emotion. "You don't have to wear it. I know it's soon. And that giving it to you now is absolutely mental. I am aware. But—" He seemed to search for what to say. "I can't imagine giving it to anyone else."

Kate's heart raced, shocked that he'd go there, but at the same time, something in her thrilled at it. This was commitment, this was permanence, this was Pete choosing her forever. She curled her hand around the ring, holding it close, as she leaned into kiss him. "I love it," she said, voice shaking. "You're right that it's—it's soon. But I'll let you know when I want to wear it?"

Relief flooded his expression. He nodded. "That'd be good. I'll need it back, see. So that I can give it to you properly. Down on one knee and all that."

Kate laughed, a little wild. Of course he wanted to be all proper about it. She nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. "I'll tell you," she said against his mouth.

"Any time you like," he offered, like he would officially propose tomorrow if she so fancied. Which, he probably would.

"I love you," she said, amazed she could say that now.

Pete rested his forehead against hers, like he was overcome with it. "More than words," he agreed.

***

Kate did not get to her paperwork as she'd planned to over leave. Instead she spent her leave in bed—or on her way to, or from, bed—Pete devoting himself to her pleasure. It was glorious, Kate insensate with it, and if she'd had to wait her entire life to find this kind of lover...well, she wished it hadn't been so long, but she'd take it.

She'd take it.

***

Returning to the Hammersley, it was like nothing had changed, while everything had. The sea sparkled, the ship bobbed happily, colors actually seemed brighter. Kate was suffused with a grand sense of wellbeing, like all was right with the world.

It was the honeymoon phase, she knew, the blush of new love and great sex. It would fade. But in the meantime, she was determined to revel in it for as long as possible.

***

Kate joined the bridge, still only half-full this long before shift. Swain had the conn, Ro at his station, a few others about. Swain nodded to her and stood, but Kate waved him off, stepping up beside him.

Feeling his eyes on her, she looked over—

To find Swain smiling, a tiny, knowing thing. "How was your leave, X?" he asked, deliberately echoing himself from long ago, she thought, but also putting some implication into it.

Kate flushed. Was she so easy to read?

Beside her, Swain's amusem*nt deepened. Which probably meant yes.

"My leave was good, Swain. Thank you," she added, softer, genuine. Because Swain texting Pete had set it all in motion. She owed him something for that.

He heard it, tipping his head. "I'm glad."

***

And then it was life as usual, but in between the paperwork and boardings, Kate traded emails with Pete. When Dutchy was an arse, she was frosty right back, and then she went to her computer and wrote about it to Pete. His commentary was hilarious—and part of her wished she could implement his suggested pranks—but best of all, she felt seen. Supported. Loved.

They texted when they could, called when they could. When she went home for leave, she went home to Pete. No matter what was happening, every single day, he made it clear he missed her, he was thinking of her, he loved her.

Kate floated along on the happiness, marveling at what a difference it made. Before, when Pete was gone, she had found her job entirely miserable, Kate just gritting her teeth and getting to the next day. Now, she remembered that she loved it, even when Dutchy and Mike were being insufferable.

It was like the love buoyed her along, made everything better, easier, more manageable.

She never wanted this feeling to end.

***

It was odd how time slipped by. Wrapped in her bubble of happiness, it seemed only a blink and it had been months. And yet she cherished every moment. Strange, that.

Kate's leave had overlapped with Pete's, so she was snuggled into him, Pete stroking light fingertips along her spine, the two of them lazy and sated.

"Did you get the email from Sally about the barbecue?" he asked, something in his voice.

Kate made an affirmative noise. "It'll be nice to see everyone."

"Do you want to go together?" he asked, purposeful.

At which point Kate realized that there was something important happening here. She turned over so she could look at him, taking in his hopeful expression. "Do you want to go together?"

He looked caught for a moment, like he didn't want to say—and then he relented. "Yeah. It's—I mean, we're not hiding, but it still kind of feels like a secret, doesn't it?"

They had agreed not to make a spectacle of themselves—not meeting up on the docks or elsewhere in uniform, not really talking about their relationship. Kate hated being the subject of gossip and, well, the two of them together would be noticed.

But also, she was just so happy.

So she smiled and pressed her body against his. "I'm okay to tell people."

His smile was everything.

***

When it came time for the barbecue, Kate wore a white sundress, simple and feminine, and tried not to be nervous. At least it would be efficient—ripping off the bandage and announcing it to everyone at once.

Pete drove them to Swain's, opening Kate's door for her, Kate kissing him on the cheek for it. Ever the gentleman.

A harassed Sally opened the door at their knock, her brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, her aqua sun dress billowing around her. She grinned at them, not surprised to see them together; undoubtedly Swain had already told her about them. "Welcome! Come in, come in. Better get back there before 2Dads finishes off the snags."

She stepped back, waving them in, so Kate followed after her, Pete just behind. "Why, Sal, you're positively glowing," he drawled, something pointed in it.

Sally leaned in for a hug. "Don't you start with me, Pete Tomaszewski," she said, mock-stern.

"Me? No," he drawled, dry.

Sally shot him a look, then turned to Kate, smiling in welcome. "Finally, you've brought someone worthy of you. Lovely to see you, Kate."

Kate accepted a hug, smiling as she returned it. "And you. He's right, though. You really are glowing."

"From you, I will accept that as not taking the piss—"

Pete grinned. "Oi, can't a bloke give a compliment anymore?"

Sally laughed—at him, it was clear—but whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a great cry—

"Uncle Peeeeete!" It was accompanied by a tiny blur—almost-three-year-old Chloe Blake wearing a voluminous pink tutu, red shirt, and purple leggings, running to Pete like her life depended on it.

He intercepted her with a kind of battle cry, flipping her upside-down and swinging her as he carried her forward. "I have captured the red menace," he called, dipping her in a circle.

Chloe's blond hair fanned out as she giggled hysterically. "It's me, Uncle Pete!"

Kate blinked at the exuberance, turning to Sally. "Well, that explains his ease at holding a baby."

Sally grinned and linked her arm through Kate's, guiding her after Pete, toward the backyard and the din of voices there. "Welcome to the family. We may not be entirely traditional, but by god we're never boring."

Kate smiled. "What fun would that be?"

Sally patted her arm. "I'm glad you're here. The news of you two will distract everyone from the fact I'm not drinking," she said, conspiratorial.

Kate laughed. "At your service."

***

Chloe promptly got distracted, so Pete released her into the wild, where she delighted in running through the crowd gathered in the backyard. Swain manned the barbie, wearing a very stained apron, Mike and Bomber by his side as they heatedly debated what smelled like a grand collection of grilled meats. Most of the Hammersley crew were present, some with dates, plus a few former crewmates. Chefo and his now-wife had joined, plus Nikki and Spider, who must be in port. Even Brickie was here, clearly getting teased by Charge and the boys, which was kind of lovely.

Pete returned to her side with a glass of white wine, bless him, clinking it with his beer before taking a sip. Kate made sure to take his free hand with hers because she didn't do things halfway. His eyes warmed—

And then Nikki was there, bright in a salmon sundress, hugging both of them at once. "I'm so happy for you," she said, holding them close, something low and trembling in her voice.

When she released them and moved back, Pete went soft. "I hear I owe you thanks for making it possible."

Nikki shook her head. "Just called it like I saw it. You two are the ones who made the choice." As Pete smiled, she looked to Kate. "I know we had our struggles, but you deserve this joy, hey."

Kate swallowed against the emotion threatening. "You're an incredible person, you know that?"

Nikki smiled, nodding once. "I do."

Which was when a voice interrupted—

"What's this then?" 2Dads asked, looking from Kate and Pete's linked hands to the rest of the crew, and back again. "Do I spy—hang on, was I right about you two? Did I get yelled at endlessly for being right?"

As Nikki stepped back, Kate could see everyone's attention turning to them. Bomber's mouth opened in surprise. Charge grinned in delight. Behind the barbie, Swain looked both happy and smug. Mike was utterly blank.

Pete glared at 2Dads, stern. "Pull your head in, 2Dads, you were talking sh*t."

"But I called it!" 2Dads shot back, gesturing to them again.

"Stuff that, I said so first," Spider called back, raising his beer in a toast. "So we're all clear, I was definitely first."

"You're all meddling stickybeaks who should mind your own," Pete groused. "But also, yeah, we're doing this," he said, raising their clasped hands a little.

A great cheer rang out, too many people stepping forward at once, all smiles and happiness.

Kate let herself get swept up into the joy of it. What a marvelous thing.

***

Later, after she'd talked to most of the enlisted, Kate sank into one of the patio loveseats next to Pete. "At some point, I would like to try some of this barbecue."

"I can make that happen," he said, like he relished that mission.

Chloe suddenly appeared by Pete's side, her mouth stained red, and promptly climbed into his lap, derailing things as it seemed children did. She settled herself, then looked at Kate with obvious curiosity. "You're pretty."

Kate huffed a laugh. "Why, thank you. So are you."

"I know," she said, completely serious.

"Chloe, do you remember Kate?" Pete asked, bouncing her a little. "You've met her a few times over the years."

Chloe kind of shrugged. "Is she your girlfriend?"

Pete smiled, so thrilled to say, "She is."

Chloe's eyes widened, like she hadn't expected that. "Are you gonna get married?" And then, immediately, to Kate: "Can I be your flower girl?"

Kate clasped her hands, mock-formal. "And what are your qualifications for the flower girl position?"

"Umm. I'm a girl. And I like flowers," she added, like this was an infallible argument.

"Sold," Kate said easily.

Chloe clapped her hands, delighted, just as Sally joined them, half-breezy, half-frazzled. "Everyone all right?"

Pete looked up at her, lips quirking. "Your inexplicably blond child is trying to secure her place in the wedding."

"Mama, I'm gonna be flower girl," Chloe crowed, clearly a grand victory.

Sally shot Pete some kind of look, but just smiled at Chloe. "Funny thing, it's time for future flower girls' naps."

Chloe visibly deflated, Kate stifling a laugh as Sally picked her up and carried her off. As Chloe looked back at them over Sally's shoulder, she waved.

Kate smiled to Pete. "She's adorable."

"She's a holy terror," Pete corrected. "But the adorable thing is what keeps her from the orphanage. Or so Swaino tells me."

"Dark," Kate said.

"You've said it before," he agreed. Then he nodded across the yard, to Dutchy just arriving, fashionably late. "Who's the blond bloke?"

"That's Dutchy," she said, not putting any inflection on it.

Pete's eyes gleamed. "I reckon I should introduce myself." He stood, his lips curving up. "I'll get you some food."

"Pete. I have to work with him every day."

"Even more reason," he drawled.

"Be good," she called after him.

As he ambled off, he shot her a grin. "When am I not?"

Kate just shook her head—

And then Mike appeared. Clearly, he'd been waiting for his moment. Kate stood to join him, nodding in greeting. "Sir."

"X," he said, even. He tipped his head toward Pete, currently doing the macho handshake thing with Dutchy. "That's a bit of a surprise."

Kate inclined her head. "To me, as well, but once he was off ship, things became...possible."

"You two always did make a great team," Mike said, something melancholy in his voice.

"We still do," she said, figuring there wasn't much more that needed to be said. They'd acknowledged it, now they could move forward. She turned to go—

Mike's voice stopped her: "Kate. If I had taken the promotion, would we be together now?" he asked, quiet.

She took him in, a tiny flare of sadness curling through her. She didn't yearn for Mike anymore, she was too disillusioned with him for that, but he had meant something to her once. So she just smiled kindly and offered the only thing she could: "We'll never know." Then she tipped her head in respect and walked off.

Back to Pete, who was headed her way with a plate of food. Spotting Mike behind her, he shot her an understanding look as he joined her. "And how'd that go?"

She shrugged, taking the plate from him and setting it on a nearby table. She'd eat in a moment. "Fine. We're professionals, after all."

"I remember saying that about us."

"The difference is you didn't take me for granted."

He stepped close and wrapped his arms around her, a loose kind of hold, his hands clasped at her lower back as she leaned against him. "And I want you to tell me if I ever do," he murmured, kissing her once. "I've had a very wise lesson impressed upon me: you've gotta tell people stuff."

Kate smiled. "Very wise. I reckon that's someone you should listen to."

"You can count on that."

"Speaking of telling people stuff and listening," she drawled, opening her purse. She pulled the blue velvet pouch from it, holding it out to him. "You said you'd need this back."

Pete's eyes widened as he realized she was giving his mum's ring back. So he could propose. "Really?" he asked, like he didn't quite believe it.

"Do not drop to one knee right now," she warned because there was such a thing as too much at once. "But yeah. When you want to ask me, you should."

One hand took the ring while the other came to her cheek, pulling her into a kiss. Kate tipped her face up, leaning into him, so solid against her. She got to have this now. For keeps.

Pete broke the kiss to look at her, his eyes so bright. "Chloe will insist on being the flower girl, you know. She weirdly remembers stuff now."

"All good with me. And I'll need your mum's dress, of course," she added. Kate didn't know what she'd do with it, but liked the idea of something.

Pete's eyes went shiny and he clenched his jaw. "I feel weirdly grateful to her. Like she gave me you, through everything."

Kate leaned into him. "Well, she actually did give me you. So I understand."

He nodded a little. "I reckon the only thing left to do is make her proud."

Kate smiled. "We will, Pete. We'll be brilliant."

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.