The fluorescent lights of the ship’s medical bay hummed quietly.

I walked past the sterile white curtains, my dress uniform perfectly pressed, my face completely composed.

The ship’s chief medical officer met me in the hallway.

"How is he, Doc?" I asked quietly.

"He took a bullet graze to the upper left shoulder, Admiral," the doctor replied. "It missed the artery and chipped the collarbone. It’s a clean through-and-through. He will be sidelined for a few weeks, but he’ll make a full recovery."

"Thank you. I need five minutes with him."

I pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the small recovery bay.

Nathan was sitting on the edge of the examination bed, wearing standard-issue physical training shorts and a white bandage wrapped tightly over his heavily muscled shoulder.

He looked up when I entered, and despite the pain medication, he instinctively tried to stand up and salute.

"Sit down, Nathan. That is a direct order," I said softly, stepping closer.

He offered a tired, crooked smile and settled back onto the bed.

"I hear the press is calling you the Hero of the Pacific, Admiral," Nathan chuckled, though he winced slightly at the movement.

"I sat in an air-conditioned room," I corrected him, standing near the edge of the bed. "You and your men did the bleeding. I came down here to personally commend you on a flawless tactical execution."

"It wouldn't have been flawless without your diversion," Nathan said, his eyes locking onto mine with a sudden, intense seriousness.

"You took a massive risk with those helicopters, Evelyn. A lot of commanders would have played it safe, waited for hostage negotiators, and let the crew die."

"I don't play it safe when my people are in the line of fire," I replied.

The silence between us stretched, heavy with all the things we were not allowed to say while wearing the uniform.

He reached out slowly with his uninjured arm.

I hesitated for a second, fully aware of the fraternization regulations and the absolute boundaries of my rank.

But looking at the exhaustion in his eyes, and the blood seeping faintly through his bandage, the Admiral stepped back, and the woman took over.

I placed my hand in his. His grip was warm, strong, and incredibly grounding.

"When this deployment is over," Nathan whispered, his thumb gently brushing across my knuckles. "When I am no longer under your direct operational command in this fleet..."

"Yes?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I am going to take you to dinner," he stated, leaving no room for argument. "And we are not going to talk about tactics, or pirates, or toxic families. We are just going to be Nathan and Evelyn."

I looked down at our joined hands, a genuine, completely unburdened smile finally breaking across my face.

"I accept those terms, Commander."