Hackett was washing herself, which was odd, since she never showered in the field. This mission was a whole batch of new oddities that she had never experienced. The young SEAL never cleaned herself on missions, it distracted her from smelling local. She never, or rarely, worked with locals but again, here she was. With the shower raining down on her, Hackett was presented with the ideal place to think. She avoided using anything scented, obviously, but she was curious. Turning to press her back into the wall and think, she squirmed a bit as the water cascaded down her face and down her naked body. It pained her to think about tomorrow, but then, today could only go on for so long. What might be different after the night passed and things proceeded forward, she didn't want to think about it. Now was neither the time nor the place to give in to that kind of thinking. After her shower, after everything else, Hackett might consider, briefly, their options. And the repercussions.<br/><br/>But for now, she only stared at the silhouette figured of Franka in the other shower, moving about, she smiled. Franka reminded her of someone she'd met a long, long time ago. A civlian who worked near Little Creek, where Hackett's headquarters was located. She seemed so energetic, full of life and unjaded by the times. Hackett had to admit she respected Franka, she expected any suvivors to be resentful of Hackett's type and what they had failed to do. Protecting the people who needed protecting, instead of abandoning them. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed, stepping away from the wall and turning back to finish her shower. If things went well, maybe Franka would make it back state side? Hackett figured that was unlikely, but considered the possibility. She had her orders, but one thing that delighted her about the Joint Chiefs was that they, more than the Armed Forces committees, listened to the commanders on the ground. In this instance, Hackett was certain Franka's experience would prove some sort of useful. If a counter virus wasn't found eventually, they'd try to use gas again, or maybe just bomb everything. But if they had a solid ground strategy...<br/><br/>Hackett chuckled at Franka's words and looked over shoulder at the figure of Franka through the frosted glass. She could relate to Franka's words, though obviously Hackett didn't go mountain climbing. Well, not JUST mountain climbing. Usually she'd end up killing someone and running a good 10 miles before the day ended. Of course, on long deployments, that was weeks or months. So much so, Hackett was more accustomed to sleeping her with sidearm in hand and being awake but still sleeping, alert, vigilant. She could never take chances. The truely hard things to get her mind around, were the simple things Franka just listed. Readily available showers, the small comforts of home, that Hackett considered more distant than the sounds of distant gunfire in the night. She actually<em>couldn't</em>sleep without at least some noise.<br/><br/>"<strong>Yeah, I wouldn't really know. I'm more used to getting shot at in my sleep than having readily available electricity on the flip of a switch. Isn't that amazing?</strong>" Hackett sounded almost happy. That was who she was and who she was made her happy. She was about to add more, but heard Derrick outside the door. She peeked over the top of the shower at the door, shrugging, knowing he couldn't see her through the frosted glass. Even though he wasn't in the room, Franka shouted and Hackett couldn't help but laugh out loud. Her hand again running through her hair as the water continued to fall on her, Hackett couldn't quite hear that well with the added interferance of water rushing past her ears, but none the less heard Franka's every word, and grinned.<br/><br/>"<strong>Yeah, what she said. Open that door and you'll get a fresh new hole where your frontal lobe used to be.</strong>" Hackett shouted in jest, chuckling quietly to himself. In a quieter tone, Hackett approached the divide between Franka and herself, but didn't get to close. Franka had her privacy. "<strong>Figures, I say talk and the second I get naked here he shows up. I'm pretty sure 'talking' is a single useage term, am I right?</strong>"