The Top Gun's Return

'I know you always wanted to see Germany.' He heard a definite break in her voice. 'We talked about it, remember? We always said we'd go, someday, when Sammi June was grown up and gone…' Her eyes had that suspicious glow again, and there were splashes of color in her cheeks. He felt the warm place in his chest grow larger.

'I do remember,' he said, staring hard at her, his voice gruff and raspy. 'And I guess maybe I have a different take on 'someday' now than I used to. I asked to stay a few extra days in Germany so I could check out the places where my mom and dad grew up. And I wanted you to go with me. Because it was something we talked about. Doing together. If you want to.'

'I'd love to.' Her voice had a furry quality to it that made him feel as though the temperature in the room had risen ten degrees. 'Are the doctors okay with it? How soon can we go?'

'Oh, the doctors seem to think it's a great idea.' He grinned, but it was the new, painful one back again. 'They'd like for me to get adjusted to 'normal life'-whatever that means-as soon as possible, but I think they're a little leery of turning me loose on society until they're sure I'm not going to self-destruct at some point on down the road.'

He saw her throat tighten, but she nodded and her voice was matter-of-fact as she murmured, 'Post-traumatic stress…'

'This way,' he continued dryly, 'they can let me out on a leash, so to speak, then reel me back in so they can run tests to see how I'm coping.' He finished with a shrug and another half smile. 'Something like that, anyway. Hey, I don't mind, as long as they let me go. As long as you want to go.'

'Lord's sake, you know I do,' she said, and hearing that Southern accent of hers made something tickle inside him, like bubbles in champagne. It came as a surprise to him to realize it was pleasure. 'How far is it? When can we go? Tomorrow?'

'Not tomorrow.' All at once the heat in him cooled and the bubbles fizzled, swamped by a new wave of fatigue. He wondered if he was ever going to stop feeling tired all the time. He said with a smile of apology, 'It's probably gonna be a couple days before I'm up to it, darlin'. Tomorrow they've got me scheduled for some more tests…more debriefing. Which reminds me-' he clutched the edge of the table and clumsily pushed back his chair '-my shadow's supposed to be picking me up at twenty-uh, make that nine o'clock, and if that clock radio over there is right, it's near that now. I'd better be getting downstairs.'

'You have to go back?' She was on her feet, too, with her head held high. She kept her voice light, and because he knew she didn't want him to, he tried not to see the disappointment in her eyes. 'I just assumed you were staying here tonight.'

It was the moment he'd been dreading, and from the tense and defensive way she was holding herself, he wondered if she'd been dreading it, too.

'Jess,' he said gently, 'I can't. You wouldn't want me to.'

She nodded once, quickly-and yes, half-relieved. 'It's okay. I understand.'

She didn't, though, he knew that. Overwhelmed once more with tiredness and a sense of failure, he tried to explain. 'I don't…sleep well. I'm not used to sleeping in a bed-'

'Oh, hell, I knew it.' Her voice was suddenly bright and quivering with melodrama. 'My stars, it's this damn bed, isn't it?' She threw her arms wide to encompass the bed, which he'd already noticed took up a good bit of the room, and he knew she was trying to ease the awkwardness between them by making light of it. 'It'd scare anybody off. Not to mention, it's just downright tacky.'

'It is a lot to live up to,' Tris agreed, coming up behind her. 'I don't think my prison cell was as big as that bed.' He lifted his hands, but didn't allow himself to touch her. Her scent, one he was familiar with but couldn't place, drifted to his nostrils, and he closed his eyes and drank it in, swaying a little with exhaustion and longing. So sweet…so clean.

God, the irony of it was terrible. He'd dreamed of her for so long…how she'd look…how she'd smell. How she'd feel. In his mind he'd explored her body, every inch of it. He knew…he remembered…every detail: the sprinkles of freckles on her shoulders and even across the tops of her breasts where her bikini didn't reach; the way her nipples looked when she was aroused; the tiny red mole, no bigger than the head of a pin, just where the two halves of her rib cage came together; the scar low on her belly from the Caesarean she'd had when Sammi June was born. How he'd loved to kiss her there…then lower…oh yes, lower. Now here she was, inches away…a breath away. His wife. And he could hardly bear to touch her.

'I have nightmares,' he said, his voice ragged with his anguish. 'I'm afraid I might-I don't want to hurt you.' He knew how lame it must sound.

She turned back to him, moving in that abrupt, jerky way-and just like that, he was flashing back again to a Florida beach and the first time he'd ever set eyes on her, her body coltish, self-conscious and awkward, and at the same time so sexy. Sexy as hell.

'It's okay,' she said, breathless and rushed, laying her hand along his jaw. As before, he curled his fingers around hers and drew them away from his face, carefully as he knew how. He wasn't used to being gently touched. 'You're here. You're alive. That's all that matters.' She paused, and he nodded. A smile trembled on her lips. 'So. You'll be back tomorrow? After you're finished with the tests and the debriefing?'

He nodded, then started violently when the phone rang. She went to pick it up, and he waited for his heartbeat to slow down before he said, 'That's probably Al now.'

The big red-gold letters on the digital clock beside the bed said nine o'clock on the money, and he thought what a luxury it was to always know the exact time. He was accustomed to determining the passage of days by the waning of darkness and light, and weeks by counting scratches he'd made on the walls of his cell. One of the first things he'd do when he got back to the world, he decided, was buy himself a watch.

That reminded him of something he'd forgotten to ask Jess.

She put the phone down and turned to him, eyes too bright. 'That was your ride. He's waitin' for you downstairs.'

He nodded and reached for the cane he'd left propped against the bed. 'Jess, there's something-'

'He said to take your time.' She was hugging herself, and her smile looked strained. He wished he felt strong enough to put his arms around her and make her feel safe and protected, the way he used to. But he knew he wasn't.

'Come down with me,' he said. 'You can meet my shadow. Al's a good guy.'

She nodded, and waited while he shifted the cane to his left hand and opened the door and held it for her.

'There's one thing you can do for me,' he said, and she looked at him again in the eager way he remembered from when they were first dating. 'Tomorrow, if you want…while I'm busy at the hospital, you…uh, maybe you could go shopping for me? Pick me up some clothes?' His smile slipped sideways. 'Just occurred to me, I don't have any civvies.'

'Sure, I'll do that. I'd love to.' So eager to please him it made his throat ache. 'Where-I mean…'

'I don't know what there is around here. Al can probably tell you. Or-did they assign you somebody?'

'They did-Lieutenant Commander Rees, my casualty assistance officer. He'd probably even take me. Oh-' her eyes darkened as they swept across his body 'I don't know what size-'

'Just get me my old size,' he said softly as he closed the door behind them. 'I'll grow into 'em.'

'Promise?'

He took a deep breath. 'That's a promise,' he said fervently. Then he put his arm around her shoulders and brought her to his side. Suspense hummed in his muscles until he felt her body relax against him, and there was an aching familiarity about her softness as she slipped her arm around his waist.

* * *

Back in her room half an hour later, Jessie closed the door and leaned against it. She felt drained and lonely. It had taken all the emotional stamina she'd had left to make brave small talk for Major Sharpe, and then to smile and let her husband slip away from her side and walk away. Funny-as apprehensive as she'd been about this reunion, and as awkward and difficult as it had turned out to be, watching him leave again had been the worst. She'd wanted to cling to him and cry like a child. Instead she'd kept her smile plastered in place and returned his little farewell wave-it had seemed so uncharacteristically tentative, for Tris-and then turned and walked back inside and up the stairs on legs that were suddenly trembly. Now, with no one to see her, she clamped her hand over her