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of nudges, destroys his resistance and with a tired sigh he lies back. His body is exhausted. Propping his arms up on a pillow, she covers him with a blanket. He’s asleep before she’s done. Satisfied with his vitals, she dims the lights.
    Looking at him, she can’t stop her fingers from gently brush ing back the hair that's fallen across his forehead. Two weeks, for two weeks she’s barely seen him, has told herself she didn’t love him. It was just a fantasy she’d built up in her mind. No one could really love her, not after what she’d done. After what she’d caused. That had been a lie too, for all it had taken was Lucas being hurt for her to realize she did love him, whether he loved her or not. Knowing it is going to be a long night, she turns away and waits for Wingate.
     
    “Open up, Major.” The look in Lucas' eyes is one she’s become very familiar with in the last day and a half. It means he’s going to fight her. “You need to eat.”
    “Then give me something to eat, not that damn soup!”
    Sighing she lowers the spoon.
    “We’ve been over this. Tomorrow you’ll be back on solids.” Sitting on the couch, she looks at him. She knows he’s frustrated at having to rely on her, but she knows no one else will stand up to him. She just has to put up with it for a little while longer.
    “Look, you have no concussion side effects and tomorrow , Magnes will remove your bandages. You’ll have some mobility then and can at least go to the flight deck as long as everything looks good, then you can start on the rehab machine.”
    “I’m not going to need rehab.”
    “You are if you want to fly again. Deal with it.” The ringing of his comm stops any response as she turns to answer it.
    “Chamberlain.”
    Lucas watches her become very still, frowning at how she addresses his father.
    “High Admiral . Yes, that about sums it up. Would you like to talk to him? Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking.” Pulling off the headset, she walks over to him.
    “I’m going to head to quarters while you talk to your father.” Adjusting the headset, she turns and leaves.
     
    “How are you doing son?” William asks.
    “Oh great ! Just peachy! I’m sitting here with my hands bandaged to my elbows being fed as if I’m a child. I’m just fucking great !”
    The High Admiral leans back in his chair . Victoria has her hands full.
    “N ice to know, thought you’d want to know that Selfridge is flying out to intercept the Phocion. She’s bringing her own arsenal. Victoria’s report on the extent of the damage has her wanting hands on as soon as possible.”
    “Victoria’s report? ” Lucas questions.
    “Lucas, she contacted Selfridge personally, giving her assessment of his condition.”
    “When did she do that?”
    “I assume when you were sleeping.”
    “Sleep! Who can get any sleep with her waking me up every fricking hour?”
    “She has to be awake to wake you. Cut her some slack Lucas, she sounded exhausted.”
    “No she didn’t ,” he argues.
    “Yes, she did . You just aren’t paying attention. You’ve always been a nasty patient.”
    “Look dad, they won’t take these bandages off, they’re feeding me soup , pretending its food, and are trying to tell me I need rehab.”
    “You will.”
    “Fuck that!”
    William has had enough . If this is what Victoria has been putting up with, along with everything else, she deserves a medal.
    “That’s enough , Major! You will do what you’re told. You don’t know how lucky you are, you and Hot Dog.”
    “I know the explosion could have been much worse, more people…”
    “I’m not talking about the explosion. I’m talking about having Victoria there. If she hadn’t, the chances of Hot Dog ever flying again would have been zero! Do you understand me! She found problems others missed, got him started on protocols that are so new, only a handful of people on the planet know about them, let alone know how to implement them. Why do you