Eventually, reluctantly, needing air, Alice had gently pulled her lips away.  She rested her forehead against Tasha’s, the tips of their noses gently touching.  Slowly she dared to open her eyes again and looked into Tasha’s.  Alice was taken about by what she saw in them.  It was fear. 

On a cerebral level, Alice knew that Tasha must feel afraid sometimes.  But in all the times they’d spent together Alice had never seen it before.  Sure Tasha’s tough demeanour had cracked previously with her but on those occasions it was to reveal tenderness, joy, sadness and at moments she hoped maybe even love but never before had Alice seen fear in this strong woman’s eyes.

That vulnerability ignited something in Alice.   A strength that had been lying dormant, its power she thought drained away forever following Dana’s death.   She figured she’d used up her lifetime supply between the day Dana had sent Lara away and that awful moment in the hospital corridor when she felt every ounce of her strength rush out of her, as her knees buckled beneath her and she sank to the ground.  In that moment however, on the beach, wrapped in Tasha’s arms Alice’s strength returned.   Tasha saw it happen.  As Alice locked eyes with her she saw determination in the writer’s eyes as she set her jaw.  Alice closed her eyes momentarily and took in a deep breath.  As she opened them they were smiling out at Tasha, she didn’t even need to look at the rest of Alice’s face she could see the smile in her eyes but she chose to indulge herself as the image of this incredible, sweet, funny woman smiling was vying for top spot on the list of things Tasha was going to miss most while she was away.  So she leaned back slightly to take in the whole picture of Alice’s beaming smile and then she heard her speak.  

“Well Captain Williams, I believe we need a battle plan.”

Alice saw the look of confusion cross Tasha’s face and realised she would have to elaborate further.

“Well it’s like this.  You say you’re coming back to me….to us.  My previous experience of stressful emotional situations would suggest that once you leave, I’ll turn into a neurotic, pill-popping emotional cripple and by the time you do come home I will bear no resemblance to the person you thought you were returning for.  So we need a plan.  Private Pieszecki needs orders – how am I going to avoid that fate?”